y
and rushed for the cover of their rifle pits.

The grey lines charged, and for three hours the earth trembled beneath
the shock of their continued assaults.

Suddenly on the left flank of the Federal army a galling fire was poured
from a grey brigade. The movement had been quietly and skillfully
executed. At the same moment General Rodes' brigade rushed on their
front with resistless force. The officers tried to spike their guns and
save them, but were shot down in their tracks to a man. Their guns were
lost, and in a moment the men in grey had wheeled them and were pouring
a terrible fire on the retreating lines.

The Confederates now charged the Federal centre, and for an hour and a
half the fierce conflict raged--charge and countercharge by men of equal
courage led by dauntless officers. The Union right wing had already been
crumpled in hopeless confusion, the centre had yielded, the left wing
alone was holding its own. It looked as if the whole Union army on the
South side of the Chickahominy would be wiped out.

At Seven Pines Heintzelman had made a stubborn stand. General Keyes saw
a hill between the lines of battle which might save the day if he could
reach it in time. He must take men between two battle lines to do so.
The Confederate Commander, divining his intention, poured a galling fire
into his ranks and began a race with him for the heights. Keyes won the
race and formed his line in the nick of time. The tremendous fire poured
down from this new position was too much for the assaulting Southern
column and it halted.

The Confederate forces had forced the Federal lines back two miles as
the river fog and the darkness slowly rose and enveloped the field.
General Johnston ordered his men to sleep on the fields and camps they
had captured. A minute later he was hurled from his horse by an
exploding shell and was borne from the field dangerously wounded. The
first day's struggle had ended in reverses for the invading enemy. The
Confederates had captured ten guns, six thousand muskets, and five
hundred prisoners, besides driving McClellan's forces two miles from the
opening battle lines.

Between the two smoke-grimed, desperate armies locked thus in close
embrace there could be no truce for burying the fallen or rescuing the
wounded. Over the rain-soaked fields and woods for two miles behind the
Confederate front lay the dead, the dying, and the wounded, the blue
side by side with their foes in grey. Di