left the 2nd and 33rd.
Both flanks were in the woods, and Stuart, whom Jackson had called
upon to secure his left, was watching the ground beyond the road. To
the front, for a space of five hundred yards, stretched the level
crest of the hill; and the ground beyond the Henry House, dipping to
the valley of Young's Branch, where the Federals were now gathering,
was wholly unseen. But as the tactics of Wellington so often proved,
a position from which the view is limited, well in rear of a crest
line, may be exceedingly strong for defence, provided that troops who
hold it can use the bayonet. It would be difficult in the extreme for
the Federals to pave the way for their attack with artillery. From
the guns on the Matthews Hill the Virginia regiments were well
sheltered, and the range was long. To do effective work the hostile
batteries would have to cross Young's Branch, ascend the Henry Hill,
and come into action within five hundred yards of Jackson's line.
Even if they were able to hold their ground at so short a range, they
could make no accurate practice under the fire of the Confederate
marksmen.

12 noon.

In rear of Jackson's line, Bee, Bartow, and Evans were rallying their
men, when Johnston and Beauregard, compelled, by the unexpected
movement of the Federals, to abandon all idea of attack, appeared
upon the Henry Hill. They were accompanied by two batteries of
artillery, Pendleton's and Alburtis'. The colours of the broken
regiments were ordered to the front, and the men rallied, taking post
on Jackson's right. The moment was critical. The blue masses of the
Federals, the dust rolling high above them, were already descending
the opposite slopes. The guns flashed fiercely through the yellow
cloud; and the Confederate force was but a handful. Three brigades
had been summoned from the fords; but the nearest was four miles
distant, and many of the troops upon the plateau were already
half-demoralised by retreat. The generals set themselves to revive
the courage of their soldiers. Beauregard galloped along the line,
cheering the regiments in every portion of the field, and then, with
the colour-bearers accompanying him, rode forward to the crest.
Johnston was equally conspicuous. The enemy's shells were bursting on
every side, and the shouts of the Confederates, recognising their
leaders as they dashed across the front, redoubled the uproar.
Meanwhile, before the centre of his line, with an unconcern which had