se hosts of soldiers — not Northern mercenaries, as traitors have insolently called them, but Northern freemen--were marching forward in serried ranks, all animated by one sentiment and one purpose — the love of country, a broad national sentiment, with no mean sectional or State limits, and the firm resolve to conquer or die. Such an army, so inspired and so determined, could only impress friends with joy and pride, and foes with fear.
The head of the column moving on the turnpike was Col. Thomas's Brigade, a detachment of the Second United States Cavalry, a section of the Rhode Island Battery, and McMullin's Rangers, acting as skirmishers, forming the advance guard.
Between the village of Darksville and Bunker Hill the cavalry of the enemy, in command of Col. Stuart, made their appearance.
The Rangers opened upon them, but they were too far off for their fire to be effective, and the troopers scattered and scampered off. At this place the whole squadron, some six or seven hun