Shields himself, wounded in the skirmish of the preceding day, was not present at the action, although responsible for these dispositions, and the command had devolved on Kimball.  That officer, when Jackson’s design became apparent, ordered Tyler to occupy the wooded ridge; and it was his five regiments, over 3000 strong, which had struck so strongly at the Confederate advance.  But although superior in numbers by a third, they were unable to make headway.  Kimball, however, rose to the situation before it was too late.  Recognising that Ashby’s weak attack was nothing more than a demonstration, he hurried nearly the whole of his own brigade, followed by three battalions of Sullivan’s, to Tyler’s aid, leaving a couple of battalions and the artillery to hold the pike.

“The struggle,” says Shields, “had been for a short time doubtful,"* (* O.R. volume 12 part 1 page 341.) but this reinforcement of 3000 bayonets turned the scale.  Jackson had ordered the 5th and 42nd Virginia to the ridge, and a messenger was sent back to hurry forward the 48th.  But it was too late.  Before the 5th could reach the heights the centre of the Confederate line was broken.  Garnett, the commander of the Stonewall Brigade, without referring to the general, who was in another part of the field, had given the order to fall back.  Fulkerson, whose right was now uncovered, was obliged to conform to the rearward movement, and moving across from Pritchard’s Hill, two Federal regiments, despite the fire of the Southern guns, made a vigorous attack on Jackson’s right.  The whole Confederate line, long since dissolved into a crowd of skirmishers, and with the various regiments much mixed up, fell back, still fighting, through the woods.  Across the clearing, through the clouds of smoke, came the Northern masses in pursuit.  On the extreme right a hot fire of canister, at a range of two hundred and fifty yards, drove back the troops that had come from Pritchard’s Hill; but on the wooded ridge above the artillery was unable to hold its own.  The enemy’s riflemen swarmed in the thickets, and the batteries fell back.  As they limbered up one of the six-pounders was overturned.  Under a hot fire, delivered at not more than fifty paces distant, the sergeant in charge cut loose the three remaining horses, but the gun was abandoned to the enemy.

Jackson, before the Federal reinforcements had made their presence felt, was watching the progress of the action on the left.  Suddenly, to his astonishment and wrath, he saw the lines of his old brigade falter and fall back.  Galloping to the spot he imperatively ordered Garnett to hold his ground, and then turned to restore the fight.  Seizing a drummer by the shoulder, he dragged him to a rise of ground, in full view of the troops, and bade him in curt, quick tones, to “Beat the rally!” The drum rolled at his order, and with his hand on the frightened boy’s shoulder, amidst a storm of balls, he tried to check the flight of his defeated troops.  His efforts