“All right,” says McNeil, and in less time than it takes to tell it Mc’s mules were made the lead team and McNeil and Hawkins stood at their side and plied the whips, and they lifted the gun and saved it from falling into the hands of the enemy, for it would surely have been captured, but for Hawkins and McNeil. Between Bull Run and Centreville we met Gen. Taylor and his Jersey brigade that had been sent out by rail from Alexandria to try and regain the lost fight, but Jackson had pushed forward A. P. Hill’s and Bristol’s divisions and several batteries, and the Jersey troops were quickly routed, Gen. Taylor himself losing a leg in the encounter. The story of the battle, the skeedaddle, etc., is a matter of history. It was a contest of several days and both armies became involved. Thousands of brave men were killed and wounded and among the officers who gave up their lives on the Union side was the beloved and dashing Gen. Phil Kearney, who made such a record at the battle of Seven Pines. The story of his conduct that day has been told in verse by the poet, Stedman: “So that soldierly legend is still on its journey That story of Kearney who knew not to yield! ’Twas the day when with Jameson, fierce Berry and Birney, Against twenty thousand he rallied the field. Where the red volleys poured, where the clamor rose highest, Where the dead lay in clumps through the dwarf oak and pine, Where the aim from the thicket was surest and nighest, No charge like Phil Kearney’s along the whole line.” * * * * * “He snuffed like his charger the wind of the powder, His sword waved us on and we answered the sign; Loud our cheer as we rushed, but his laugh rang the louder; There’s the devil’s own fun, boys, along the whole line! How he strode his brown steed! How we saw his blade brighten In the one hand still left, and the reins in his teeth! He laughed like a boy when the holidays heighten, But a soldier’s glance shot from his visor beneath. Up came the reserves to the melee infernal, Asking where to go in--thro’ the clearing or pine? ‘O anywhere! Forward! ’Tis all the same, colonel; You’ll find lovely fighting along the whole line!’” * * * * * CHAPTER IV. INCIDENTAL TO BULL RUN. THE CAPTURE OF UNCLE HAWLEY. Henry Hawley was his name, but the boys of Company H always called him “Uncle,” and so he appears on our company record. Hawley was not cut out for a soldier--in fact he was several sizes too large. His corpulency made him appear rather ludicrous when he tried to line up with the slender youths of the company on dress parade. Tom Murphy, the orderly sergeant, was always yelling out “right dress there, Hawley.”