The cannon facing them fairly spouted fire, and thousands of expert riflemen in front of them lying behind ridges and among rocks and bushes sent shower after shower of leaden balls that swept away the front ranks of the charging Union lines.

The shell and the shrapnel and the grape and the round shot made a great noise, but the little bullets coming in swarms like bees were the true messengers of death.
Jackson and four thousand of his veterans formed the thin line between the Dunkard church and the Antietam.

They were ragged and worn by war, but they were the children of victory, led by a man of genius, and they felt equal to any task.

Near Jackson stood his favorite young aide, Harry Kenton, and on the other side was the thin regiment of the Invincibles, led by Colonel Leonidas Talbot, and Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St.Hilaire.
Around the church itself were the Texans under Hood, stalwart, sunburned men who could ride like Comanches, some of whom when lads had been present at San Jacinto, when the Texans struck with such terrible might and success for liberty.
"Are we winning?
Tell me, that we are winning!" shouted Dick in Warner's ear.
"We're not winning, but we will! Confound that fog! It's coming up again!" Warner shouted back.
The heavy fog from the Potomac and the Antietam which the early and burning sunrise had driven away was drifting back, thickened by the smoke from the cannon and rifles.

The gray lines in front disappeared and the church was hidden.