It was a weird fight.

Squads of Grenadiers, Highlanders, Creoles, and Tennessee backwoodsmen blindly fought each other in the fog with knives, fists, bayonets, and musket butts.

Jackson then fell back while the British brigade waited for more troops and artillery.
On Christmas Day Pakenham took command of the forces at the front now augmented to about six thousand, but hesitated to attack.

And well he might hesitate, in spite of his superior numbers, for Jackson had employed his time well and now lay entrenched behind a parapet, protected by a canal or ditch ten feet wide.

With infinite exertion more guns were dragged and floated to the front until eight heavy batteries were in position.