had left that morning, on a special train and with a volunteer staff,
for Manassas. This set the whole tribe agog, and wonderful were the
speculations and rumors that flew about. By night, certain news came
that the battle had raged fiercely all day, and the sun had gone down
on a complete, but bloody, victory. One universal thrill of joy went
through the city, quickly stilled and followed by the gasp of agonized
suspense. The dense crowds, collected about all probable points of
information, were silent after the great roar of triumph went up at the
first announcement. The mixed pressure of grave, voiceless thankfulness
and strained anxiety, was too deep for words; and they stood
still--expectant.

By midnight the main result of the day's fight was known beyond a doubt;
how the enemy, in heavy masses, had attacked the Confederate left, and
hurled it back and around, entirely flanking it; how the raw troops had
contested every inch of ground with stubborn valor, but still gave way
until the change of front _had made itself;_ how the supports brought
up from the right and center--where a force had to be maintained to
face the masses threatening them--came only to meet fresh masses that
they could only check, not break; how the battle was at one time really
lost!

When science had done all it could to retrieve the day, but the most
obstinate even of the southern troops--after doing more than desperate
courage and determined pluck could warrant--were breaking and giving
way, then the wild yell of Elzey's brigade broke through the pines like
a clarion! On came that devoted band, breathless and worn with their
run from the railroad; eight hundred Marylanders--and only two
companies of these with bayonets--leading the charge! On they came,
their yells piercing the woods before they are yet visible; and, as if
by magic, the tide of battle turned! The tired, worn ranks, all day
battered by the ceaseless hail of death, catch that shout, and
answering it, breast the storm again; regiment after regiment hears the
yell, and echoes it with a wild swelling chorus! And ever on rush the
fresh troops--past their weary brothers, into the hottest of the deadly
rain of fire--wherever the blue coats are thickest! Their front lines
waver--General Smith falls, but Elzey gains the crest of the
plateau--like a fire in the prairie spreads the contagion of fear--line
after line melts before the hot blast of that charge--a moment more and
the "G