John Rumby closed his eyes and offered his God a prayer, reopening them just a short moment later. He folded the letter in thirds, then sealed it with a stamp and pushed it to the end of the table. "Stop for no one," he'd say to the negro standing nearby.

"Yessir," replied the servant, "as you wish, sir." The coloured man nodded at his master and turned to exit the tent.

Brigadier General Rumby rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes. He was nearing thirty-four but he felt like he was closer to sixty. Maybe the war with the Mexicans threw him forward a few years. He hoped this war would end soon, but he wasn't optimistic. At times he considered sending his resignation to Confederate command, but digressed. He had a duty. South Carolina started this war, and as a proud resident of that fine state he was obligated to fight for it. If not the his state, then for the South - and if not the South then for his family. The Rumby's had lived in South Carolina ever since they ran the Cherokee out of the Upstate, just after the American Revolution. Cotton grew by their servants ensured a healthy income, but the Rumby's were West Point graduates and proud American soldiers.

Everything John did was to keep the Federals out of South Carolina. If not for him, he thought, then the Yankees might burn down his town, and worse - his home. It bothered him to imagine his mother and sisters without a home.

One of the tent flaps swung open and Wadee poked his head in. "Men are waitin'. You should come."

Wadee was a Cherokee native living on the western stretch of the Appalachian Mountains. Although he had a history of raiding plantations, he was an excellent candidate to lead Rumby's Cherokee riflemen - a mounted corp under John's command. Wadee wasn't his real name, of course, but it's what the men called him for whatever reason.

"Alright, alright," the Brigadier General said, heaving himself up. "Let's go."

John would follow the Cherokee man to the strategy tent just a short distance away. Some minor officers sat nearby, nodding at their superior as he passed by. When they finally arrived at their destination Wadee pulled a seat up for Rumby.

Charles, one of John's highest ranking officers, spoke first - as usual. "The Yankees set up camp north of here, on the other side of the forest."

Wadee nodded, "reports say they're entrenched behind Cull's Creek."

John nodded and examined the map laid out over the table. It would be fruitless to move an army through the forest. It was to thick and to dangerous for any common soldier to march through. If a battle erupted within it would be a chaotic mess that would only devolve into a massacre on both sides.

A road did run along the southeast edge of the woods, wrapping around towards the Union camp. Alternatively it cut off eastward, crossing a river and heading for Miller's farm and then Harrisburg. He ran the possibilities through his head. The Federals might make for the bridge too, if not to secure the passage to Harrisburg then to check the advance of the rebels. They could also make for the north train station, which might allow them to reach Harrisburg before the Confederates.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how to proceed at this moment.

"Wadee, take the Mounted Rifles northeast as the vanguard; waste no time and do not wait for us. Charles, you'll advance in column with the infantry and artillery. Put those Appalachian sharpshooters on the west flank, hugging the woods. The rest of the cavalry will remain under my command, split evenly on either flank. Our immediate task is to secure the bridge. Get to it."

All of the staff officers nodded in agreement and stood up, pacing off to prepare the troop movements.

General Alfred awoke as a dewdrop fell on his eye, and he instantly arose revolver in hand. After coming to terms with the temporarily peaceful surroundings he sighed peacefully and went on to do his morning duties. After shaving, breakfasting and reading a letter from his wife it was time to get to business. He surveyed the troops, and scratched his chin. "It'll do." he offered his aide, much to the relief of the men. Despite being kind in what he provided to the men, in giving rest and good treatment but he was a draconian disciplinarian.

Suddenly, a runner appeared. He was a coloured man, short and keeping a surprisingly well maintained mustache for his position. After stopping for breath and taking a drink from his waterskin, the man ran up to the general. "Sir, the rebels are right south of the forest." he announced, and after breathing some more continued. "More than half of we got, but they have some Marine turncoats. I saw they had Whitworths and horse artillery, but one of them almost spotted me before I had to run back." he said, finally squatting down in front of the general who dismissed his men.

Smith pondered this for a while, and then replied: "Have they moved out?" The reply came swiftly and clearly. "No. But! I saw a bearded feller giving out orders. They're probably moving back." That was all Alfred needed to know. "Thank you. Rest for five minutes and get with the rest of your division. The runner turned around and was about to go to his comrades until he saw the Kalapuyans run off. "Sir the natives are go-" "I know." the general stated, before waving the negro to go back to his division. The Kalapuyans couldn't be controlled, but maybe that was better. He saw them running across the bridge and going into the forest. They'd probably try to go through it to slit the rebel throats from behind, the poor bastards. With that last thought he didn't know who he meant, and that was probably for the better.

"Everyone! Get ready!" he shouted, and then waved for his aide again. When the young lad came once more he finally announced the orders and battle plan. "Get the negros to march down the road and go straight towards their camp along the roads, with them fancy English Knight want-to-be volunteer division going down behind them. With the forests it's tight, so even if their whole army marches down that path it's all very thin, so only maybe a fifteenth of them can fire at once, and firing by rank won't save them hicks. Tell them they're too retreat if the enemy proves to be too powerful, otherwise engage. If they see the indians coming out, engage even harder! If they do retreat, tell them to retreat to the artillery batteries, they'll be set up where the road forks off to the south and to the north railway."

Then there were the rest of his troops. The small expedition he sent would likely be torn to shreds if they didn't follow his order and probably dead if they did anyway. The Confederates were many but he needed someone to stall for time, and provide the first line of rebel deaths, so that his 1,400 infantry could get right into position.

"Tell infantrymen to do this. Split up into smaller groups of 350. I want them to go to the railway and board the train. I want one group to stay at the North Train station, I want one to take Critchley's farm, then when the other two reach Harris station I want one to go into Harrissburg and the other to go take Miller's farm... go!" he'd shout, before mounting his horse. It had begun.

imgur.com/a/qDpc9

{Blue is the 1,400 riflemen, black is the artillery including gatling guns, green is the natives, red is the coloured infantry and British cavalry}

It seemed the first battle would occur at the southernmost bridge of Cullen's River about midday. Wadee, commander of the rebel Cherokee Mounted Rifles, had spotted the advance of General Smith's Coloured Division, along with the British Cuirassiers. The Cherokee officer wasted no time reporting back to his superiors, and avoided any conflict whatsoever.

"They got the niggers comin' at us?" barked Charles, upon hearing Wadee's report. He spat on the ground in disgust. "Round'em up and send'em back in chains," he taunted. The man may have been a fine infantry commander, but he was also an absolute racist and a supporter of slavery. A man had many reasons for fighting, but Charles was practically fighting for his family's right to keep slaves.

"Easy, Charles," Wadee tried to calm his ally down, "we should exercise caution in this. Rumby, sir, what are our orders?"

Rumby rubbed his beard in thought. After a moment he'd begin to issue his commands.

"Charles, draw the infantry into line formation between the river and the forest, ahead of the bridge - but do not engage the negroes. Have the Marines behind in reserve. Pull up the howitzers in the rear. Set the Appalachian sharpshooters on the western flank. All cavalry and horse artillery fall under my command from this point on. Our howitzers ought to have the range, so bombard whoever's closest - but if you see artillery then target it first."

The Confederate army began its advance and deployed as ordered. They would form up in their defensive posture, with the howitzers pulled up in the rear ready to fire on whoever was in range.

i.imgur.com/q1UFE09.jpg

Quentin Buchanan was trying his best to drink his tea upon his horse but it was near impossible. It got worse when there was the shaking ground of Johnny rebel before him. Oh yes, there were indeed many. He waved to William who was an adjutant of sorts. "Tell the darkies we're retreating. Oh, and get the one of them who's a runner to go to the forest, see if he can get them native chaps to cover our retreat if he can find them. On the double my lad." he'd say, before turning his horse and going back North. The Gatling guns were set up there by now along with the mortars, although it would still be some time before the proper artillery was in place, especially the siege pieces.

The black runner took the message, and passed it along. The division stopped and even though even the Confederates with their superior ranged rifles were out of range, they nevertheless stood, and fired a volley before swiftly reloading. Only a few shots would land and at that distance they'd bounce off; most likely 0 injuries or casualties but it would hopefully stall the enemy and demoralize them. Then of course, they ran like hell back north to catch up with the British. The messager then told another fast man to run far back ahead to the 350 men who would have stayed back at the station and he'd tell them the rebs were coming. So they went and formed up to the north of the forest in a vertical column so that if the enemy decided to pursue the retreating negroes and British they'd all of a sudden come upon a considerable amount of firepower, all loaded, aiming and with perfectly organized lines to allow the maximum amount of men to fire. He himself meanwhile, ran to the forest and by sheer luck managed to find an Indian. "Cover us, please. We need to get back and the confederates are right on our tail!" he shouted to the Kalapuyan he saw, who was already running off. He could but hope he got the message before running to catch up with his comrades.

IF the confederates would go North to pursue the fleeing men, they'd come upon a sudden barrage of thrown axes and spears, arrows, and several shots ringing out, some in repetition from revolvers. Then, the natives would disappear into the forest. Although they were far better suited to fighting in it they wouldn't stand a chance. Besides, if they went in they knew general Alfred would fire upon the forest with his cannons hoping to get the rebels burnt alive inside.

Rumby, seeing the Yanks retreat, was relieved. A battle would not occur here at the bridge. With the knowledge that their advance would be unrestricted here, Rumby began to issue orders to his men to cross the bridge. A warning shot from the negroes was met with a few hateful insults, but overall no damage was done to either side. First the cannons crossed, then the cavalry, then the camp followers, the infantry, sharpshooters, howitzers, and the marines last. However, Rumby approached one of his cavalry commanders, Alexander Beaufort, at the end of the maneuver.

"Beaufort. Take the 1st Horse and half of the 1st Mounted Rifles with you and harass the enemy on this side. The rest of the army will make for Miller's Farm nearby for much-needed supplies. No doubt the Yanks are making for Harrisburg. Have faith, we'll get'em out."

Beaufort would take 100 of the Partisan Cavalry and 50 of the Mounted Rifles with him, and start moving back south a few paces. Rumby took the remaining forces and made for Miller's Farm, just to the east, where he would set up camp and allow his men rest.

Rumby's final act at this position was to use his guns to blow the bridge, negating the Yanks a chance to pursue his army here.

If the Union was sending anyone to Harrisburg by train, they would arrive there shortly. It was a moderately-sized town, having grown with the introduction of the railroad. There was a central courthouse on the main road, surrounded by other one to two or even three story buildings. There were no walls around the town. Large expansive fields expanded all around the town.

The commander of the British volunteers smiled as the men crossed, and left some cavalry behind. "Easy pickings!" he announced, and continued with "Johnny rebel will get many a bullet in him today!" to a cheer from both the negroes and the volunteers. "You, blackies, march down and call the natives again, try to get the cavalry and take as many prisoners as you can, but don't waste your bullets." He'd say, to be echoed with another man saying "Aye, 'cos they're worth more than ya!" to a laugh and even giggle from the Commander. Thus, he rode off and rounded up the 350 men who stayed at the station before getting all to board the next train. Finally, he went over to the cannon crews and told them to go over to the creek and deploy at it right beside the train tracks so they could cross if they desired to the other side while still staying defended. Finally, the gatling gunners along with the mortars would also board the train, and with all men on, the commander hopped on too.

Three hundred and fifty men had already reached Critchley's farm and after every man dropped a coin or two for his services, they completely looted his farm for bread, milk, jerky, a revolver with a few bullets, some powder and charge-paper, and then they ran south to catch up with the other men.

Elsewhere, 700 men got off at Harris station, but the Confederates were already seizing the other farm, and they could do nothing about it. So.... It appeared the men had to hole up at Harrisburg. There they started to build up barricades here and there, place men at key points, and loot the buildings for whatever supplies they could find be it food or munitions. Then, they waited.

Captain Beaufort in the West
Beaufort's cavalry, consisting of 100 Partisan Cavalry and 50 Mounted Rifles, would continue their southerly retreat in the face of the numerically superior British Cuirassiers and Negroes. They were currently unaware of the Native Americans. They offered no threat or desire to battle, but maintained surveillance to ensure they were well ahead of the enemy. Beaufort kept his 50 Mounted Rifles in the rear and his 100 Partisan Cavalry at the front. Perhaps if the British volunteers galloped ahead on their own steeds the rebels might offer battle, but for the moment they'd make way for the southern river crossing.

Brigadier General Rumby at Miller's Farm
The rebels set up camp around Miller's Farm, establishing lookouts and pickets all around. John Rumby began to devise a plan to seize Harrisburg, which the Yankees were certainly fortifying at the moment. His plan started to take form but he decided he would allow his soldiers time to rest. A few Grey-clad scouts would be spotted on the outskirts of the town as the rebels attempted to survey the goings-on of the Union force.

As the cavalry men went south to the river crossing, so would spring the natives out in front of them trying to them off from the path to the crossing. They knew that the men were mounted and as such much faster potentially able to get past them. However, in an effort to stop this they would all start to right away fire any and all firearms they had as well as sending a few burning arrows lit via match; the aim was not to kill but to simply get the horses to bolt in every which direction from fear; a few however would not form the line to stop the prevent of their escape and instead would line the side of the forest also shooting. Meanwhile, from behind the blacks would start running like hell towards the cavalry's flank to hopefully form up and open fire with their rapidly shooting bolt-action rifles. They simply had to get in range first. Hopefully this attempt at encirclement would be enough to completely annihilate their force with minimal casualties. If they failed to block them off then they had another plan. Since the horsemen would be crossing water and much slower, then they would try to form a firing line at a forty-five degree angle to the river so that they could get off free-shots at the horsemen who would be impeded by the waters, particularly if they didn't dismount.

Meanwhile, on the other front the Union men had some issues. They were only seven-hundred, and the town wasn't a fort, there weren't that many proper firing positions. While they were somewhat fortified, if the union men tried to storm the town they'd be annihilated. However, this state of affairs wouldn't be for long, they hoped (and so it was). The last of the infantry men in the North train station had boarded, and they were off while the men from Critchley's farm were crossing the waters to also head down south. Elsewhere, the British cavalry, the mortars and the two Gatling guns were waiting for the train to return so that they could board, and also reinforce the isolated troops. Finally, the artillery would still be heading over to the North side of the stream where they could set up, but a few of the artillery spotters complained. It appeared that this was not an ideal firing position and without a telegraph they could receive few communications. It would appear they'd have to cross south on the bridge when there weren't any trains going, and then head south. They just hoped they wouldn't arrive to late, since their progress was slow what with all the wagons and carts.

Captain Beaufort and his men were believed to see the river crossing up ahead. The few scouts who straggled behind rightfully abandoned their duties to catch up with the main body, having successfully spied the approaching Coloured Division. "There it is boys, let's get on over and meet back up with Rumby." The cavalry began to make their approach right when the Union's Native Americans sprang from the forest.

First Beaufort had spied flashes of firearms, but the smoke expelled from the barrels and cacophony of the weapons confirmed their presence. Also in this barrage were flaming arrows. The attack may have been quite deadly and catastrophic for Beaufort's party, but the mounted force had moved swiftly down the river's edge and they would have outpaced the infantry force considerably. Only the rear of the column would be affected, and of the 150 men 8 men were hit.

"Ride, ride hard," Beaufort commanded at the head of his column. "Mounted riflemen, dismount at the crossing in loose formation, Partisan Cavalry on me!" He pointed to a ranking officer, "make for Rumby's position and tell him what's happening!" One of the cavalrymen nodded and darted to the crossing and passed over unmolested. He would inform Rumby of the impending disaster.

The mounted force would outrun the Natives and Negroes. The 50 Mounted Rifles dismounted and formed a loose battle line, ready to fire on the Negroes and get the first shot as soon as they were within range. Meanwhile, Beaufort positioned his Partisan Cavalry, of which there were 142, formed behind this thin line.

The decision to stand and fight with the men would be quite surprising for the negroes. However, the natives were impervious to shock. As the men dismounted, they charged with screams and shots into the sky. Vicious axes, spears, knives, and lassos or for the more civilized of them swords and bayonets were waved. If their charge wouldn't be able to connect, then at least they'd still have a good path to kill their horses, and the enemy would be right there in front of them to use their close-ranged weapons like revolvers, bows, and throwing axes/knives/spears upon for devastating results. The negroes meanwhile would keep on their path, except they'd start to "charge" as well, although without the intention of entering melee combat. They'd take the fire upon knowing full well that the enemy was in the water and prone to malfunctions of their firearms, and the upwards angle of fire would make the impact not as strong. Still, about fifteen or so men would fall but retribution was on the horizon. They would form up near the river's side, with a rank kneeling and one standing. Then, they'd fire. However, their bolt actions rifles would be swiftly reloaded for another round, before the smoke even completely cleared.

Meanwhile, as it dawned the artillery men would sit down and make camp, as it was starting to get dark. However, things weren't over for tonight. They were hoping to, at midnight open fire on the Confederate encampment to horribly demoralize the enemy.

As soon as the Negro forces came to a stop and prepared to fire, the 50 Mounted Rifles, now dismounted, were ordered to fire into their ranks and make a hasty retreat across the river with their horses. Some would surely fall from the Negroes retaliatory volley, however. Beaufort, meanwhile, led his 142 Partisan Cavalry around the line, due northwest, before turning to push northward against the Natives. His Cavalry were well-trained, as Southern horsemen naturally were, and he hoped to inflict terrible casualties on the Natives before withdrawing, or perhaps even force them to retreat into the woods.

---

Rebel artillerists were preparing their own ambitions back at Miller's Farm opposite the Union forces. However, Brigadier General Rumby sent a messenger along - waving a white flag of truce so that the Union might not shoot at him. Assuming he made it to a Union soldier unharmed he would deliver a message:

To the Commanding Federal Officer,

Brigadier General John Rumby requests that you evacuate the town of Harrisburg of all non-combatants before morning, before the inevitable battle commences. Your only other option would be to withdraw, but the honor of a soldier would never permit such course.

During the downtime Confederate artillerists set up their four howitzers southwest of the town. These long-range cannons, while inaccurate, were meant to bombard the town, destroy fortifications, and demoralize the Union troops. Before Rumby gave any order to fire, however, he would await the Federal response to his message. Just north of their location were 4 horse artillery crews, out of range from the town but within sufficient range to bombard any Union force which may attempt to move against the howitzers. The Infantry, Marines, Cavalry, and others were encamped behind the artillery placements. Though currently resting, the rebel forces were ready to deploy at Rumby's notice.