Then he glanced again at the sun and saw that it was low, filling all the western heavens with bars of red and yellow and gold.
He looked once again at that formidable line of battle, stretching in either direction through the forest farther than he could see, the soldiers eager, excited and straining hard at the hand that held them there so firmly.

It seemed now that nothing was left to be done, and the time had grown to six o'clock in the evening.
Jackson turned to Rodes, who commanded the first line of battle, just in the rear of the skirmishers, and said: "Are you ready, General ?" "Aye, aye, sir." "Then charge," said Jackson.
Rodes nodded toward the leader of the skirmishers, who gave the word.
A powerful man put a glittering brazen bugle to his throat and blew a long, mellow note that was heard far through the forest.

It was followed by a shout poured from thirty thousand throats, the guns in the turnpike fired a terrible volley straight into the Union camp, and then the whole army of Jackson, line upon line, rushed from the thickets and hurled itself upon its foe.
The Northern army was paralyzed for a moment.

Never was surprise more sudden and terrific.

Brave as anybody, the Union men rushed to their arms, but there was no time to use them.