...ght the night before, and there was no time to prepare rations. It was a scene dismal enough. There seemed to be no spirit left in our hearts. But suddenly a messenger dashed down the hill from Garrard 's camp two miles distant. The sound of Zollicoffer's morning gun had not been a dream. Our pickets are driven in. The enemy is attacking. The long roll was beaten. In three minutes the regimen...