urge hung poised, the tide one moment between ebb and flow.
The noise was hellish; sounds of triumph, sounds of panic, of anger,
encouragement, appeal, despair, woe and pain, with the callous roar of
musketry and the loud indifference of the guns. Above it all the man on
the quaint war horse made himself heard. From the blue line of steel
above his head, from the eyes below the forage cap, from the bearded
lips, from the whole man there poured a magic control. He shouted and
his voice mastered the storm. "Rally, brave men! Rally and follow me! I
will lead you. Jackson will lead you. Rally! Rally!"

Billy saw the 21st Virginia, what was left of it, swing suddenly around,
give the Confederate yell, and dash itself against the blue. Taliaferro
rallied, Campbell rallied, the Stonewall itself under Ronald rallied.
The first of the Light Division, Branch's North Carolinians came on with
a shout, and Thomas's Georgians and Lane and Archer and Pender. Early
was up, Ewell sweeping down from the mountain. Jackson came along the
restored front. The soldiers greeted him with a shout that tore the
welkin. He touched the forage cap. "Give them the bayonet! Give them the
bayonet! _Forward, and drive them!_"

The cavalry with Banks was fine and staunch. At this moment it undertook
a charge useless but magnificent. With clarion sound, with tossing
colours, with huzzas and waving sabres, a glorious and fearful sight,
the cavalry rushed diagonally across the trampled field, its flank
exposed to the North Carolinians. These opened a blasting fire while
Taliaferro's brigade met it full, and the 13th Virginia, couched behind
a grey zigzag of fence, gave volley after volley. Little more than half
of those horsemen returned.

Dusk fell and the blue were in full retreat. After them swept the
grey--the Light Division, Jubal Early, Ewell, Jackson's own. In the corn
fields, in the wheat fields, in the forest thick, thick! lay the dead
and wounded, three thousand men, grey and blue, fallen in that fight of
an hour and a half. The blue crossed Cedar Run, the grey crossed it
after them. The moon, just past the full, rose above the hilltops. On
the whole the summer night was light enough. Stonewall Jackson brought
up two fresh brigades and with Pegram's battery pressed on by moonlight.
That dauntless artillerist, a boy in years, an old wise man in command,
found the general on Little Sorrel pounding beside him for some time
through the moonlit night