But there was heavy work yet to be done, for General Lee with a portion of his army was confronting the overwhelming masses of McClellan at Sharpsburg, and no time was to be lost in reaching him. The surrender had therefore scarcely been effected when the troops were dispatched to his aid. By a forced night march Jackson’s artillery reached Sharpsburg on the 16th, and was immediately assigned a position on a range of hills rather northwest of the town. The morning of the 17th of September found the two armies in position, and ready to begin the work of destruction. For the Confederates the prospects of success seemed gloomy enough, for General Lee had barely forty thousand men with which to meet the mighty army of McClellan, numbering over one hundred and twenty thousand troops. But the vast odds were made almost proportionate by the superior genius of the Confederate Generals. With Lee, Jackson and Longstreet in command nothing seemed impossible to their troops, and therefore it was with no feelings of fear for the result that they surveyed the long and glittering lines before them. Soon after sunrise slight artillery skirmishing commenced along the lines, which increased in volume until the air seemed filled with exploding shells. Upon the position held by the batteries of Brockenborough, Carpenter, Poague, Moody, Rain and Caskie, was opened a terrific fire, which was promptly returned, and the enemy’s batteries several times compelled to change position. This continued for two hours, when it became evident that the infantry was massing for a charge. The position was of the most vital importance, for should the enemy succeed in gaining possession of this point, and turning Lee’s left flank, he would be irretrievably lost. His orders to General Jackson were therefore to “hold the range of hills to the last.” McClellan’s advance upon this point was gallantly met by Jackson’s veteran infantry, and for some time the fighting was of the most determined character; but at length the immense superiority of numbers prevailed, and Jackson’s troops gradually fell back across the turnpike, past the Dunkard Church and through the woods, and appeared upon the plain beyond. Most beautifully did the heavy columns emerge from the woods and move forward upon the batteries quietly awaiting their nearer approach. “Do not pull a lanyard,” said Brockenborough, who was temporarily in command of the whole, “until you get the command.” Nearer and nearer those solid columns approached, and amid loud huzzas rushed forward at the double-quick. It was a moment of dreadful suspense. On, on, they came. “Will Brockenborough never give the command?” Yes; he now has them at the muzzles of his guns, and the next instant the command “Fire!” was heard above the exultant cheers of the advancing columns, and twenty-four pieces of artillery, double shotted with canister, belched forth their deadly contents into the very faces of the assailants.