They moved forward to within long firing distance, the cavalry covering the north side, one battalion of infantry the south, and the other prepared to assail the front.

These latter began firing at once, their muskets easily covering the distance, although our lighter weapons were useless.
Yet, beyond keeping us down close to the floor and out of view, this preliminary firing was but a waste of ammunition, the heavy balls merely breaking what glass remained, and chugging harmlessly into the walls.

We were ready and waiting, extra loaded guns beside each man, our nerves throbbing with the excitement of battle, every trooper posted at some point of vantage for defence.

For a few moments the formation of our assailants was almost completely concealed behind the black musketry smoke.

All else was forgotten except our own part in the tragedy, even the thunder of artillery deadened by the continuous roll of small arms.
Under the powder cloud the charging line sprang forward, determined to close in upon us with one fierce dash, almost encircling the house.