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 bridgehead and the dike had opened with cannon balls which came ricocheting down the road and splashed the mud and water of the cornfields. But the men paid little attention to them. Hooray! Here was General Pillow, at last, with the General Calwalader brigade of Voltigeurs and Eleventh and Fourteenth Infantry—toiling in from the west and uniting with the First Division on the road. He had arrived too late for San Antonio, but was in time for Churubusco.

The men were growing impatient. Within a few minutes the gunfire from Churubusco had risen deafening. The church was being attacked; it fairly vomited smoke and shot and shell; every inch of it seemed alive. The fields to the west of it were answering. Infantry in thin lines could be seen stealing forward; a battery was hammering hard.

"Twiggs! Old Davy's there, with Taylor's battery!"

How the men knew, nobody could tell; but know they did. The word passed that General Persifor Smith's First Artillery and Third Infantry were attacking the church. They appeared to be suffering, for they were within point-blank range of the roof-*top and the cupola, and had no cover except the corn.

Another brigade—Colonel Riley's Second and Seventh Infantry—was hastening to the support of General Smith. The firing had spread to the north, as if an attack was being made all along the line of the road. The time was nearing noon but the smoke welled in such a cloud that it hid the sun. Amidst the terrific uproar of artillery and small-arms the orders