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.

https://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}