As the last bit of mist rolled away the fence became a twisted line of flame.

The fire of the Southern skirmishers crashed in the Union ranks, and the Northern skirmishers, pressing in on the right replied with a fire equally swift and deadly.

Then came the roar of the Southern cannon, well aimed and tearing gaps in the Union lines.
"Its time to charge!" exclaimed Pennington.

"It scares me, standing still under the enemy's fire, but I forget about it when I'm rushing forward." The Winchester regiment did not move for the present, although the battle thickened and deepened about it.

The fire of the Confederate cannon was heavy and terrible, yet the Union masses on either wing had begun to press forward.