bout to little purpose; and for the second time
McDowell's admirable plan was spoilt.

It was now past noon on that sweltering midsummer day; and there
was a welcome lull for the rallying Confederates while the Federals
were coming down the Matthews Hill, struggling across the swamps
and thickets of Young's Branch, and climbing the Henry Hill. Within
another hour the opposing forces were at close grips again, and
the Federals, flushed with success and steadied by the regulars,
seemed certain to succeed.

Imboden has vividly described his meeting Jackson at this time.
"The fight was just then hot enough to make him feel well. His
eyes fairly blazed. He had a way of throwing up his left hand with
the open palm towards the person he was addressing; and, as he told
me to go, he made this gesture. The air was full of flying missiles,
and as he spoke he jerked down his hand, and I saw that blood was
streaming from it. I exclaimed, 'General, you are wounded.' 'Only
a scratch--a mere scratch,' he replied; and, binding it hastily
with a handkerchief, he galloped away along his line."

Five hundred yards apart the opposing cannon thundered, while the
musketry of the long lines of infantry swelled the deafening roar.
Suddenly two Federal batteries of regulars dashed forward to even
shorter range, covered by two battalions on their flank. But the
gaudy Zouaves of the outer battalion lost formation in their advance;
whereupon "Jeb" Stuart, with only a hundred and fifty horsemen,
swooped down and smashed them to pieces by a daring charge. Then,
just as the scattered white turbans went wildly bobbing about,
into the midst of the inner battalion, out rushed the Thirty-third
Virginians, straight at the guns. The battery officers held their
fire, uncertain in the smoke whether the newcomers were friend or
foe, till a deadly volley struck home at less than eighty yards.
Down went the gunners to a man; down went the teams to a horse;
and off ran the Zouaves and the other supporting battalion,
helter-skelter for the rear.

But other Federals were still full of fight and in superior numbers.
They came on with great gallantry, considering they were raw troops
who were now without the comfort of the guns. Once more a Federal
victory seemed secure; and if the infantry had only pressed on
(not piecemeal, by disjoined battalions, but by brigades) without
letting the Confederates recover from one blow before another struck
them, the day woul