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General Burnside continued the bombardment for some hours, the Mississippians still holding the river-bank and preventing the laying of the pontoons, which was again begun and again discontinued.
The Southerners could not see just where the bridge head was and their cannon must fire at random through the heavy darkness. Sixteen hundred Mississippians were stationed in Fredericksburg below, well concealed in cellars and rifle pits, but they could not see either, and for the present their rifles were silent. But Harry's imagination immediately became intensely vivid again.
General Jackson did not move, save to lift his glasses now and then, as if with their magnifying powers he could pierce the dark. But the night and the swollen fog still hid everything going on beyond the river from those on the heights. Down by the shore the Mississippians in their rifle pits might see a little, and the scouts undoubtedly had seen much, else the signal guns would not be firing.
Harry saw houses crumbling in Fredericksburg, with flames leaping up from others. The artillery of Longstreet immediately facing the Union batteries was too light and weak to reply, and the gunners remained quiet in their trenches while the storm rained its showers of steel upon the town. Yet the Mississippians in the rifle pits held fast, their earthen shelters protecting them.
By the time every shot in the cartridge-boxes had been fired at them they had forced their way half-up the slope. "Attention, 200th Indiana," shouted Capt. McGillicuddy. "Dress on the colors. Fix bayonets." "They'uns 's Injiannians," shouted the rebel Color-Sergeant, waving his flag defiantly. "Come on, you Hoosiers. We'uns 's Mississippians. Remember Buny Visty. Injiannians 's cowards."
The judge would claim the right to decide whether the testimony was credible, and among the neighbors that would surround him, in many places, he would be bold, indeed, if he believed the sworn evidence of a negro when confronted by the simple assertion or opposed even to the interest of a white man. I recently heard a circle of Mississippians conversing on this subject.
"Evacuate!" said the Mississippians. "We're going to evacuate. What's that in English? 'Quit? What in hell should we quit for?" Orders being orders, the disgust of the bear-hunters did not count. "Old Barksdale" was fairly deprecating. "Men, I can't help it!
Elzey's Brigade's over beside the woods Virginian to the backbone. Trimble's got a fine lot Georgians and Alabamians and Mississippians. Here come some of the 2d Virginia Cavalry! Ain't they pretty?" They were. But Harris stood up for the absent Valley. "Huh! Ashby's good enough for me! Ashby's got three stallions the white he's fondest of, and a black like a piece of coal, and a red roan "
"In my opinion there are two Jacksons. The one that came down here left the other one in the Valley." A great shell came with a shriek and exploded, a fragment mortally wounding General Griffith at the head of the Mississippi brigade. The Mississippians uttered a loud cry of anger. Carleton's battery thundered defiantly. Magruder drew a long breath. "Well, gentlemen; philothophy to the rethcue!
The Mississippians have driven them back once, but they are pushing on the work and will soon get it finished; but General Barksdale bids me report that with the force at his command he can repulse any attempt to cross." The light was now breaking in the east, but the roar of musketry continued under the canopy of fog.
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