Confederate wizards of the saddle /

The Battle of Chancellorsville was fought on the 3d of May, 1863. It stands in military history as one of the remarkable battles of the world. It was a great victory in one sense for the Confederate Army, but on that fatal field died Stonewall Jackson, one of the wonderful soldiers of the ages.

Amidst the gloom of an unsuccessful campaign, and when defeat was apparently impending about his hosts, a brave European general gathered around him his several commanders and asked of them a detailed enumeration of the forces that could be depended upon in the approaching conflict. Conscious of the inferiority of numbers, the reports were made, with countenances and words showing the profound fear of misfortune on the coming day. Distressed by this despondence, the unterrified leader rose and striking the table with his hands, vehemently cried out: “How many do you count me?” Instantly the scene changed. His courage restored the waning valor of his followers. In all battles the Confederate soldiers in Northern Virginia, who came in contact with General Jackson, counted him alone a mighty host.

In May and June, 1863, hope was still radiant in the hearts and minds of the defenders of Southern independence. The superb defense of Vicksburg, as well as Port Hudson, indicated that the possession of the Mississippi was yet a debatable proposition, and that the division of the Confederacy by the capture of that mighty stream would be long delayed. The crushing of Hooker at Chancellorsville demonstrated that none of the efficiency and power of the Army of Northern Virginia was gone. Beyond the Mississippi, the position of the army there made it certain that many months would come and go before the Union forces would be able to get very far south of the Arkansas River.

Soldiers as brave and self-reliant as the men of the Army of Northern Virginia had grounds of hope that ordinary soldiers could not feel. They were made of the best metal and fashioned in the finest mold, and thus could hope when others might despair.

The first sting of the death of Stonewall Jackson had abated. General Stuart had won honor when Jackson had fallen, and there were many, many great soldiers in this army of Northern Virginia who felt the uplift of faith in God, and these could but believe that in the end, some way, another leader would be developed to help General Lee in the future, and be to him what Jackson had been in the earlier campaigns of that loved commander.

The Battle of Fleetwood Hill, sometimes called “Brandy Station,” was almost entirely a cavalry contest. It was fought on the 9th of June, 1863. Some of the most important as well as desperate scenes of the battle were on what was known as “Fleetwood Hill.” This was the center of a once beautiful estate. War had despoiled some of its grandeur, but even in its ruin it was magnificent. The storm of conflict raged from dawn to late in the afternoon, with unabating fury. Men on both sides seemed immune to fatigue or fear, and for fourteen hours, as if endued with supernatural energy and power, struggled amidst dust, smoke, starvation and wounds and death with unflagging fury, in the maddening work of ruin and destruction. This hill was adorned by a colonial mansion. The ground about it rose with gradual ascent until it reached the top of the eminence, from which point there fell upon the gaze of the beholder one of the most beautiful views in Virginia. This country had hitherto been rendered famous by some of the greatest of military achievements known to men. Later it would add new titles to historic greatness with the names of Second Manassas, Spottsylvania and Cold Harbor, but on this day it was to crown the cavalry of both the Army of Northern Virginia and the Army of the Potomac with a glow that would never dim.

Culpepper Court House was the county seat of Culpepper County, and within the limits of this county was situated Fleetwood Hill. It was fifty miles from Washington, and Brandy Station was five miles south of the north fork of the Rappahannock River. From Kelley’s Ford on the Rappahannock River to Brandy Station was five and a half miles; from Kelley’s Ford to Stevensburg was seven miles; from Brandy Station to St. James Church was one mile and a half; and from Brandy Station to Beverly’s Ford on the Rappahannock River was four miles. From Fleetwood Hill to St. James Church was one mile, and from Kelley’s Ford to Beverly’s Ford, three miles.

GENERAL ALFRED PLEASANTON

The Federal forces were commanded by General Alfred Pleasanton, who was born in Washington City, June 7th, 1824. In 1844 he graduated from the United States Military Academy and became second lieutenant in the First Dragoons. He was at Palo Alto and at Resaca de La Palma. He was in the Seminole war and in operations in Washington Territory, Oregon and Kansas. In February, 1861, he became major of the Second United States Cavalry and marched with his regiment from Utah to Washington. He was in the Peninsula Campaign of 1862 and in July of that year was appointed brigadier general of volunteers. By September he was a division commander. He was at Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg and at Chancellorsville. His friends claimed that he stayed the advance of Stonewall Jackson on May 2d, 1863. He was at Gettysburg and subsequently transferred to Missouri. He was made a brigadier general in the regular army in 1865, for meritorious conduct, and mustered out in 1866. He was a vigorous and daring leader and won a splendid reputation by hard fighting. Later in the struggle he was transferred to the West and won some signal victories in Missouri, and was at one time offered the command of the Army of the Potomac.

JOHN BUFORD

General Pleasanton had with him as second in command John Buford, who was born in Kentucky in 1825. He was graduated from the Military Academy at West Point in 1848, and became second lieutenant in the First Dragoons. He was in the Sioux expedition in 1855, in Kansas in 1856 and ’57, and in the Utah expedition in 1857 and ’58. In 1861 he was promoted to be a major and was designated inspector general of a corps in November, 1861. He was on General Polk’s staff in 1862. On the 27th day of July he was made brigadier-general and given command of a cavalry brigade composed of some of the very best of Federal cavalry, the 1st Michigan, the 5th New York, 1st Vermont and 1st West Virginia. He was wounded at the Second Manassas. In the Maryland campaign he was acting chief of cavalry of the Army of the Potomac. He was also at Antietam. Upon the organization of the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac, General Stoneman became the ranking officer, and Buford commanded the reserve cavalry. He was at Fredericksburg, December 3d, 1862, in Stoneman’s raid on Richmond in May, 1863, at Beverly Ford, June, 1863. He was at Gettysburg and his associates felt that he did wonderful service there. At Fleetwood Hill, he did some of the best fighting. He was not afraid of any sort of clash with his enemies. He died in November, 1863, and a statue at Gettysburg commemorates his work there.

GEORGE WESLEY MERRITT

General George Wesley Merritt was born in New York City, June 16th, 1836. He went to West Point in 1855, graduating in 1860, and was assigned at once to the cavalry service. By April 5th, 1862, he was captain of the 2d United States Cavalry. He served on the staff of General Phillips and St. George Cooke; later, under General Stoneman. By April 3d, 1863, he had attained to the command of the 2d United States Cavalry. He saw the fighting at Gettysburg. He was at Yellow Tavern, where Stuart received his fatal wound. By June 29th, 1863, he had become a brigadier general. He was with Sherman in the Shenandoah campaign and in 1864 was made major general. He was one of the three Federal commissioners to arrange the terms of surrender at Appomattox. In June, 1898, he was appointed military governor of the Philippine Islands, and with an army of eight thousand men arrived at Manila on June 25th. His active military career covered a period of nearly forty years, and he witnessed some of the most desperate and effective fighting of any soldier who served in the army to which his life was devoted.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN DAVIS

With General Pleasanton also on that day was Benjamin Franklin Davis, who was born in Alabama in 1832, graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1854, and served with great credit in both infantry and cavalry in Mexico. In 1861 he sided against the state of his nativity. In 1862 he became colonel of the 8th New York Cavalry and was in command of a brigade of Federals in this engagement. With Wesley Merritt, D. McM. Gregg and Colonel A. N. Duffie, this made a splendid aggregation of cavalry experience and military genius.

General Pleasanton had under him ten thousand nine hundred and eighty soldiers. The best the Federal Army had in cavalry at that time was at Fleetwood. The generals in command were brave, able and experienced. They had been prodded about what Stuart had been doing. Their pride and courage were involved and aroused, and they were longing for an opportunity, which had now come, to have a real test of the spirit and grit of the Confederate cavalry.

The horsemen of the Union armies had now been taught both how to ride and how to shoot. They were well mounted and well armed, and their training made them formidable foes. The war had now been in progress for two years and the Federal cavalry drill and training had been brought to a very high standard. The Federal troopers had become apt scholars. They were anxious to demonstrate their valor, their discipline and their power.

On the Confederate side were nine thousand five hundred and thirty-six men, and these constituted the best horsemen the Army of Northern Virginia could send into battle—in fact, about all it could offer. Stuart himself had long since established a reputation as one of the most enterprising and successful of cavalry leaders, and he had with him lieutenants who were as brave and as able as any who could be found. The generals and men under him were superb horsemen and accurate shots when the war began. To great pride they had added wide experience in campaigning. Well educated, highly bred, and intensely patriotic, they were foemen the most intrepid men might justly fear.

WILLIAM HENRY FITZHUGH LEE

Major General William Henry Fitzhugh Lee was a son of Robert E. Lee and was born on May 21st, 1837. Graduating at Harvard when he was twenty years of age, he was appointed second lieutenant in the 6th Infantry, and he served under Albert Sidney Johnson in Utah and California. In 1859 he resigned his commission to operate his farm, known as the “White House,” on the Pamunky River, which became not only important as a strategic position, but famous in the history of the war. At the beginning of 1861, he organized a company of cavalry and later became a major in the new-made Confederate Army. In West Virginia he was chief of cavalry for General Loring. In the winter of 1861 and ’62, he was commissioned lieutenant colonel of the 9th Virginia, and in less than two months became its colonel. His regiment constituted a part of the brigade of General J. E. B. Stuart. In the Chickahominy raid he was one of the three colonels with Stuart, and his troops defeated the Federal cavalry on June 13th in this expedition. He suffered rough treatment at Boonsboro. He was knocked from his horse and left unconscious by the roadside; but reached Sharpsburg in time for the fight. He rode with Stuart in the Chambersburg raid. His courage and intrepidity saved Stuart, by protecting the ford at which he must cross. In November Lee became brigadier general. He was prominent at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, and at Fleetwood he was captured after being severely wounded. He was carried to Fortress Monroe and subsequently to Fort LaFayette and was exchanged in March, 1864. At this time he was promoted to be a major general and commanded a division of Confederate cavalry in the Army of Northern Virginia. He was with General Lee, his father, to the end. After the war he returned to his plantation. He was a member of the Fiftieth, Fifty-first and Fifty-second Congresses from the Eighth Virginia District and died at Alexandria in 1901.

WILLIAM CARTER WICKHAM

Another prominent leader on the Confederate side was William Carter Wickham, who was born in Richmond, Virginia, in 1820. He graduated at the University of Virginia in 1842. He was bitterly opposed to the war and voted against the Ordinance of Secession. He recruited, however, the Hanover Dragoons, was in the first battle of Manassas, and in September, 1861, was made lieutenant colonel of the 4th Virginia Cavalry, and in August, 1862, became colonel of that regiment. He rendered valiant service at the Second Manassas, at Boonsboro and at Sharpsburg. At Upperville he was wounded the second time, and took part in the Battle of Fredericksburg, December 12th, 1862. Elected to Congress in 1863, he remained with his regiment until the fall of 1864. He helped to stop Kilpatrick’s raid on Richmond and Custer’s attack on Charlottesville. He was in the Battle of the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania Court House, and was with Stuart on May 11th, at Yellow Tavern. The last brigade order issued by General Stuart was to General Wickham to dismount his brigade and attack. Wickham was with Early in the valley. After the reverse at Fisher’s Hill, he stayed the advance so as to allow the reorganization of Early’s forces. On the 5th of October, 1864, he resigned his commission in the army, transferring his command to General Rosser, and took a seat in Congress. He died in Richmond, Virginia, in 1888. The state of Virginia erected a statue to his memory on the capitol grounds in Richmond.

BEVERLY HOLCOMBE ROBERTSON

Brigadier General Beverly Holcombe Robertson was a graduate of the United States Military Academy in 1849, and became second lieutenant in the Second Dragoons. By hard service in the West he was promoted to first lieutenant in 1859, and was under Edgerton of the Second Dragoons in the Utah campaign. He severed his connection with the United States Army and became a colonel in the Virginia cavalry. He was sent to take command of Ashby’s cavalry. In September, 1863, he was assigned to the command of the Department of North Carolina, and took charge of the organization and training of cavalry troops. Immediately preceding the battle at Fleetwood, he was sent to reinforce Stuart. He was at Gettysburg and in the raid through Maryland. After returning from Gettysburg, the regiments comprising his brigade were so reduced that he sought service in another field, and was given command of the Second Division of South Carolina. His cavalry forces were particularly prominent in the Battle of Charles City Cross Roads, and in the battles with Sherman’s troops, on their march to the sea, he bore a valiant and distinguished part.

JOHN RANDOLPH CHAMBLISS

General John Randolph Chambliss was born in Greenville County, Virginia, in 1833, and graduated from the United States Military Academy in 1853. In July, 1861, he was commissioned colonel of the 13th Virginia Cavalry, and was under the orders of General D. H. Hill on the James River during the fall of that year. He was assigned to General W. H. F. Lee’s cavalry brigade, and was regarded as one of the most determined and intrepid fighters. After General W. H. F. Lee’s wound and the death of Colonel Sol Williams, Colonel Chambliss took command of the brigade. He was at Gettysburg and in the Bristoe skirmish. In December, 1864, he was commissioned brigadier general. In the cavalry battle at Charles City Cross Roads on the north side of the James River, he was killed on the 16th of August, 1864. His body was buried by his enemies, but was afterwards delivered to his friends. General Lee, in speaking of his death, said: “The loss sustained by the cavalry in the fall of General Chambliss will be felt throughout the army. By his courage, energy and skill, he had won for himself an honored name.”

WILLIAM E. JONES

General William E. Jones, another of the Confederate leaders, was born in Washington County, Virginia, in May, 1824. He graduated from West Point in 1848. He did splendid service in the West. At the time of the passage of the Ordinance of Secession by Virginia, he had organized a company of cavalry known as the Washington Mounted Rifles. His company was part of General Stuart’s command. He became colonel of the 1st Virginia Cavalry with Fitzhugh Lee as lieutenant colonel. In 1862 he was displaced by regimental election, and was assigned to the 7th Virginia regiment. He was at Sharpsburg and was promoted on November 8th to be brigadier general and was assigned to the command of the Laurel Brigade. In April and May, 1863, he conducted a daring and successful raid on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, west of Cumberland. From this expedition he joined Stuart, and at Brandy Station no leader acquitted himself more splendidly. At Boonsboro his command captured over six hundred Federal prisoners. In 1861 differences had begun between General Stuart and Colonel Jones. This became so intense that it was necessary to remove Colonel Jones, and he was sent to Southwestern Virginia. A man of splendid executive ability, he organized an excellent brigade and was with Longstreet in Tennessee. He prevented Averell from destroying the salt works in Southwestern Virginia. On May 23d, 1864, he was placed in command of the Department of Southwestern Virginia, while General Breckinridge was absent in the valley. In the fight at Piedmont, Virginia, he fell, leading his forces in the conflict, and his body was not recovered until after the battle.

THOMAS TAYLOR MUNFORD

Another officer of deserved distinction was General Thomas Taylor Munford, who was born in Richmond in 1831. He graduated from the Virginia Military Institute in 1852. At the outbreak of the war he was a planter. He became lieutenant colonel of the 30th Virginia Mounted Infantry, organized in 1861. This was the first mounted regiment organized in Virginia. It was subsequently designated as the 2d Regiment of Cavalry, General Stuart’s regiment being the 1st. In the re-organization under Stuart, Munford became colonel. He was in the first fighting and the last fighting of the Army of Northern Virginia. His career as a cavalry officer was brilliant and notable. The discharge of all duties committed to him were performed with absolute faithfulness. When General Ashby died, General Munford was recommended by General Robert E. Lee as his successor. He received two severe wounds at the Second Manassas. He was in the Maryland campaign, was at Sharpsburg and commanded a division of cavalry that confronted Hancock’s troops. Later he became commander of Fitzhugh Lee’s brigade. He was at Gettysburg and in the valley campaign with Early. In November, 1864, he was promoted to brigadier general. At Five Forks and at High Bridge he maintained the splendid reputation that he had won in the earlier days of the war. He was with Rosser at High Bridge, and, in the retreat from Richmond, bore both a prominent and valiant part. After Lee’s surrender, he endeavored to collect the scattered Confederate forces and form a junction with Johnson’s army. General Fitzhugh Lee commanded his excellent services as a division commander. With large agricultural interests in Virginia and Alabama, he still survives, full of honors and full of years, and occupies a most exalted place in the hearts of his Confederate comrades.

At no other place in the war were such a large number of cavalry engaged in a single conflict. It was practically forty per cent more men than were engaged in any one cavalry battle during hostilities, and in few battles were such a large proportion of the leaders West Point graduates.

On the 22d of May General Stuart reviewed the brigades of Fitzhugh Lee, W. H. F. Lee and Wade Hampton. He counted four thousand troopers. This review occurred between Brandy Station and Culpepper Court House, and a sense of pride and exaltation filled Stuart’s heart as he looked over the chivalrous and intrepid legions. A few days later there came over from the valleys of Virginia General William E. Jones, who brought with him a brigade of fairly well mounted and armed men. They were of splendid material. There also came from North Carolina another brigade under General Beverly H. Robertson. Stuart’s forces now numbered five brigades, constituting a magnificent array of cavalrymen. Always proud, he announced a great review for June 5th. He wanted himself and he wanted others to see in array this grand body of horsemen, in every respect the equal of any nine thousand men who ever aligned as cavalry. He asked General Robert E. Lee to be present and to impress these troops with a sight of his magnificent personality. These horsemen rode, and walked, trotted and galloped, and salvos of artillery magnified the splendor of the movements and thrilled the hearts of the riders. General Lee could not come, but General Stuart had all that the pomp and pageantry of war at that date in Virginia could present.

General Stuart, still anxious that General Lee should see his men and that the men should see him, announced another review and parade for the 8th day of June. Many of the horses were the worse for wear, the men’s uniforms were worn, faded and many threadbare, but the sabres, guns and pistols were bright, and if their equipment showed the marks of heavy service, their hearts were true and loyal to their beloved country and they were ready to respond to its every call.

The mind of the Confederate commander was revolving the scheme of the invasion of Pennsylvania, which was to culminate three weeks later at Gettysburg. He was prone to look at things more quietly than General Stuart, and so he reviewed this important part of the army of Northern Virginia, but he forbade the discharge of artillery, and he only allowed them to pass by him at a walk and trot. He knew who and what they were and he knew that when the testing moment came they would be worthy of the Confederacy. Neither General Lee nor General Stuart had any foreshadowing of what the next day would bring forth, and General Lee returned to his headquarters in the midst of his infantry. Stuart’s headquarters were at Fleetwood Hill. General Pleasanton’s headquarters were across the Rappahannock River, eight miles away. Neither seemed to know just what the other was doing. Pleasanton had marched his men down the Rappahannock. He allowed no fires. He had been sent by General Hooker to find out just what General Lee was doing and where his army was encamped. Two fords were accessible, Beverly’s Ford and Kelley’s Ford. General Pleasanton had resolved to use both to force the fighting and to back up the cavalry with infantry, to drive anything out of his way that might cross his path. Stuart, unconscious of the large force of cavalry and infantry that was ready to cross the Rappahannock, had his men at and about St. James Church, over at Fleetwood Hill, and down at Beverly’s Ford.

Pleasanton had with him some splendid artillery, especially the 6th New York Battery. At Chancellorsville, thirty-seven days before, it had written history, and on the morrow it was to write history again at Fleetwood. With thirty men beginning the day, it would bring out unscathed only six; four-fifths were to go down in the storm.

New Jersey, New York, Maine, Pennsylvania and Rhode Island were getting ready with their troops to try out the question of the courage and endurance of the horsemen from Virginia, North Carolina, Mississippi, South Carolina and Georgia.

There was to be an all-day fight, and it was to be a hand-to-hand fight. It was to be a fight in which the sabre would be used. The ever-handy revolver was to be an incident. The highest type of courage was to play an important part. In this hard-fought contest cowards would have no place. If there was cowardice hovering around on that day it did not come to the surface. Valor oozed out from the pores of the actors. The very atmosphere was full of courageous inspiration. Death would lose its terrors on Fleetwood Hill, and fear would be relegated to the rear. Smoke and dust would obscure the sight but could not and would not affect the courage of those who participated. It might hide the vision and obstruct the breathing, but the men who were to fight at Fleetwood were to take no heed of weather or atmospheres. It was to be a complete triumph over all that nature could offer to impede, and a fight with an almost supernatural fierceness that was apparently to be something more than human.

With the dawn General Gregg, with Duffie, crossed at Kelley’s Ford. Gregg traveled with Duffie to Stevensburg and then turned north toward Brandy Station. Duffie went on farther and passed by Stevensburg, and then turned north to Brandy Station; and Pleasanton crossed at Beverly’s Ford, and he headed his columns toward Fleetwood Hill, around which were to be woven wreaths of glory for the men on both sides who here went to battle.

Stuart himself on the night of the 8th camped at Fleetwood Hill. This position commanded a view of the entire country with the exception of immediately westward, which was known as the Barbour place, which was a little higher than Fleetwood Hill.

Telepathy, which frequently pervades the movements of armies, spoke to the Confederates. Their slumbers were disquieted and they breathed in the air that something important was close at hand. Stuart and none of his men knew, for his scouts had not found it out, that less than four miles away, indeed, in some places less than one mile away, there were thousands of Federal cavalry ready to dispute the question of supremacy. General Stuart was himself a mile in the rear of his forces, which were at St. James Church, a third of the way between Fleetwood Hill and Beverly’s Ford, on the road which ran from Beverly’s Ford, and which led along the north bank to Duffin’s Run.

Pleasanton had crossed the Rappahannock in the early morning and was starting on an expedition to break up Confederate communications and find out where all the Confederates were. With twenty thousand horsemen equally matched and in such close proximity, all on the alert, battle could not be long postponed. General Hooker had suspected a forward movement of General Lee’s army. General Pleasanton had behind him Russell’s and Ames’ brigades of infantrymen, and with real military skill had managed to conceal his presence from his enemies, and the Confederates were surprised when, at the dawn of day, Colonel Davis of the 8th New York Cavalry passed the Rappahannock at Beverly’s Ford. The Federals had begun operations very early, even before light. A company of the 6th Virginia Cavalry was ready to dispute the passage of the river and these Virginians, under command of Captain Gibson, persistently and skillfully delayed the advance of the Federal forces. The pickets contested every inch of ground, and for half a mile Davis’ brigade was fighting its way—still pressing forward—and its men realized before the sun had gotten up that the day’s work would be serious. After Davis and his New York regiment had traveled half a mile, Major Flournoy, who commanded the 6th Virginia Cavalry, collected one hundred men. It was barely light, but he went after the 8th New York with vigor. A third of the Confederates were either killed or wounded, but they were not without recompense. Colonel Davis was killed in the fight. Amongst those in the Confederate charge was Lieutenant R. O. Allen, of Company D, 6th Virginia Cavalry. In the movement under Flournoy, his horse was wounded and this induced him to remain in the woods. Observing a Federal officer in the road, about two hundred feet in front of his column, Lieutenant Allen advanced upon him. The Federal commander’s attention was given to his men, and with his sword he was waving them forward. Allen was upon him before he realized the situation, and when Colonel Davis turned his head, he assaulted Allen with his sabre. The fearless Virginian had only one shot in his pistol; he was taking large risks. He reserved his single shot for the crucial moment, and swinging himself upon the side of his horse, he avoided the sword stroke of the Federal; and arising in his saddle, he fired the one shot which he had reserved for the emergency, and the Federal colonel fell dead.

Both Federals and Confederates advanced to the scene of this tragic conflict. Losses were suffered on both sides. The Confederate lieutenant hastily returned to his lines. The firing attracted the attention of General Jones, who promptly ordered up the 7th Virginia Cavalry. The men had been gathered in such haste that a number of them were coatless, and some of them had pressed forward with such impatience that they had not taken time to saddle their beasts. The 7th Virginia charged fiercely, but the Federals met the charge with such courage that the Virginians were forced back and they passed two guns, of Hart’s Battery, stationed in the road.

Early in the morning the artillery on both sides had given a wonderful account of themselves. The 7th Virginia Cavalry, many without their saddles, had rushed to stay the tide of Federal advance from Beverly’s Ford. These, by sheer force of numbers, were swept away, leaving the two guns of Hart’s Confederate Battery unprotected. The Federals, animated by their success in scattering the cavalry, believed they would find these guns an easy prey, but the gunners were in no mood to yield their pieces or to run away from their speechless companions, who, with them, had so firmly stood in battle array for many months. They had learned to love the iron and steel, cold and emotionless though it was, and the thought of these long-time friends passing into the possession and use of their enemies gave them keenest pangs of regret. Supports or no supports, they resolved to fight out the right of ownership, and come what might, to stand or fall by their beloved guns. They saw the advancing foe. The vibration caused by the tramp of the rushing squadrons could be felt, and to escape from capture or death seemed hopeless. Once determined at all hazards to protect their cannon, all questions of escape were dismissed and all fears banished. With haste quickened by danger, they fired shot after shot into the advancing columns of the assailants. Shells were discarded and the deadlier canister pushed into the pieces, now warm by rapid firing, was sent crashing into the front ranks of the foe. These dauntless files went down before the withering currents of death that were starting every moment from the two guns, and when at last they reached the pieces, their ranks were shattered and their columns broken. Slowly the brave men by hand moved their guns to places of safety, and at length they found shelter behind the ranks of the forces disposed around the little country church, and about which for five hours the storm of battle had been raging with intense fierceness. The men who had stood for these guns had risked much and dared everything without counting cost, and as they rolled their guns and caissons into the Confederate ranks, so gladly opened to receive them, their comrades greeted them with shouts of admiration and approval. They had accomplished more than they had even hoped. They had caught the contagion of intrepidity that was in the air on that day. The conduct of the men on both sides was such as to stir the hearts of brave people everywhere in the world and to win for the American volunteer soldier immortal acclaim.

At ten o’clock the din and turmoil had become appalling. Both sides had changed positions, but fought with a courage like to that born of despair. Wherever the men in gray found mounted or unmounted bluecoats they rode at them with furious savagery, and likewise the men in blue seemed to rise out of the earth fully armed and pressed on to unrelenting conflict.

Some Confederate guns near St. James Church were especially destructive and annoying to the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry and a regiment of United States regulars. Their officers concluded that the quickest and most effective way to get rid of this battery was to ride it down. The cavalry was twenty-four hundred feet from the annoying artillery, and the way led across an open space. The bugles were sounded, the guidons were lifted and the order to charge stirred the souls of these brave soldiers. Aligning themselves, they burst into the open space like a devastating cyclone. The earth trembled beneath the tread of the galloping steeds. They were riding, many of them, to death, but death in the excitement of the moment lost all its terrors, and madly they rode forward. There was no organized force in front of this magnificent column to oppose the ride. The guns were to the front and stood out boldly in the perspective. The men at the guns knew well their duty and understood the call. Not a man flinched. The horses were behind, but the cannoneers had no use for horses now. Something like five minutes was necessary to reach the battery. Every man, with quickened movements, prepared to fight to the death and to drive, with promptness and despatch, grape and canister into the ranks of the approaching Federals. The men in blue looked ahead; they saw the gunners with nimble movements loading and ramming the missiles. These they knew must soon send havoc into their ranks, but not a man swayed from his place in the line where duty bade him ride. Starting with victorious cries, they galloped to the muzzles of the thundering guns. They rode over the pieces, they sabred the gunners who did not dodge under the wheels and limber chests. They could not stop. The gait was too rapid to rein up at the guns; they dashed around and over them. If a man in gray showed himself, the swish of a sabre drove him to cover. Now, beyond the guns, they saw moving, charging men. The Federals had cut in between Hampton’s and Jones’ brigades, and the moment of reparation had arrived. Hampton and Jones ordered an assault upon these intrepid assailants. Orders rang out shrill and clear. The gunners who for a moment had disappeared under the wheels and chests sprang up and began to push more grape and canister into the throats of their cannon. They hurled their guns about, stood at their appointed stations ready to turn the storm loose once more against these brave men in blue, who, though balked in their work, had no mind to give up the contest.

With the Federal lines a little scattered, Hampton and Jones rushed down with impetuous fury and the Federals were glad to ride away and escape from the onslaught of these numerous, new-found foes. The guns were saved, but as if by fire; and the artillery at Fleetwood had won, if it were possible, greater fame for the horse artillery of the Army of Northern Virginia.

The morning was well advanced when a single horseman from one of Robertson’s North Carolina regiments, riding with the swiftness of the wind, advised General Stuart that the Federals were advancing from Kelley’s Ford, that they were now at Brandy Station, and were immediately in the rear of the Confederate line. This looked like a bad mix-up all round. The Federals were in the rear of the Confederates and the Confederates were in the rear of the Federals, and nobody seemed to know exactly where the other body was.

When this startling announcement was made, which appeared so unreasonable to General Stuart, because he did not know the man personally, he directed the scout to return and satisfy himself by closest inspection if it could be possible that the troops in the rear were Federal forces. In five minutes the man returned and with confidence pointed General Stuart to the Federal lines, then within less than half a mile of Fleetwood Hill; and there, sure enough, General Stuart saw a long column of the enemy passing. They were the men that had gone under Gregg and Duffie, down by Stevensburg, and had changed their front. They had sought and found their foes. These Federals were facing toward Brandy Station. It was apparent that in a few minutes this place would be captured, and half a mile away was Fleetwood Hill, and this was the key to the situation.

General Stuart, great commander though he was, now faced difficult and perplexing problems that might have embarrassed a man less experienced and less great.

A single gun of Chew’s Battery, because of its exhausted ammunition, had been abandoned on the side of the hill. Some imperfect shells and some shot had been left over in the limber chest and this one single gun was pulled up on the hill and was opened upon the advancing Federals. A courier in great haste was dispatched to General Stuart to tell him of the gravity of the situation. Only three Confederates were there, and they saw that if the Federals once gained Fleetwood Hill and were enabled to plant their artillery on its heights that it must be recovered or the day was lost. General Gregg and General Buford were advancing up the hill, and expected to take it without any fight. They were surprised to find artillery there. They had intended to attack General Stuart in the rear, where they believed there was no protection, and the stubborn defense with this gun amazed and puzzled the Federal commander. He did not know that on the hill there was only one gun and three men; one of these was Major McClellan, Stuart’s adjutant general. It would not have taken long for a charging squad to have gotten control of this important post.

General Gregg, deceived by this stout resistance, prepared to meet artillery with artillery, and he lost some time in unlimbering the three guns he had with him, and as soon as possible they opened vigorously upon the gun and three men who were defending Fleetwood.

To the first courier General Stuart had been incredulous; when the second came, the sound of the Federal cannonading announced unmistakably that the report was true. The Confederates, had nothing closer to Fleetwood Hill than the 12th Virginia under Colonel Harman, and a few men under Colonel White. Major McClellan had done all he could to get orders carried to General Stuart. To get the orders delivered and have reinforcements returned seemed many hours to him and his two companions, now maintaining a place, the retaking of which was necessary to win the battle, and if retaken would cost many lives. Riding in hot haste, with lines broken, Colonel Harman was the first to reach the scene of danger. As he rode up, Major McClellan urged upon Colonel Harman the emergency of the situation. He gave him no time to form his regiment, but ordered him to go in pell mell. Harman was brave and enterprising and he obeyed his orders and rode at full speed to the top of the hill, as the brave cannoneers were retiring, after firing their last cartridge from the lone gun that was standing off Gregg and his men.

One hundred and fifty feet away the 1st New Jersey Cavalry, under Colonel Windom, was advancing in columns of squadrons, with banners flying and sabres drawn. Colonel Harman’s followers of the 12th Virginia had reached the top of the hill at this critical moment, but in columns of fours it went north westwardly of the summit. The men behind their intrepid colonel rode hard to follow him and save the situation. Harman, realizing that instantaneous action was necessary, took the men he had and directed the artillery at the Federals. General Stuart, now alive to the exigencies of the situation, had ordered General Hampton and General Jones to leave the position at St. James Church and concentrate on Fleetwood Hill.

Hampton himself was a good soldier, and he had the perception of a sagacious leader, and when he heard firing he realized the danger and he had already commenced withdrawing his forces to meet the new situation.

The 12th Virginia under Harman, always gallant, at this time seemed to have failed by reason of their inability to get into line in time to make the charge. Harman notified Colonel M. C. Butler, of the South Carolina Legion, that he must look out for enemies that were in the rear, and now the Confederates set about the task of holding Fleetwood Hill, the center of this great cavalry fight. All the regiments of Jones’ brigade and Hampton’s brigade participated in charges and counter charges, and both sides had now reached the top of the eminence. The 1st New Jersey Cavalry had temporary possession of the hill. Harman and White had failed in the first attempt to prevent the 1st New Jersey from this movement. Harman now re-formed his regiment and went on furiously to avenge his former failure. Half way up the hill the gallant Confederate colonel was wounded in an encounter with the Federal commander. Colonel White re-formed his squadrons. He charged along the west side of the hill and attacked the three guns which General Gregg unlimbered and with which he had opened a fierce fire. He drove the Federal cavalry away from the guns, but the gunners of the 6th New York Battery, though the cavalry left them, were not disposed to give up their pieces. Of the thirty-six men, thirty were killed or wounded. All were killed or wounded beside their guns. The Confederates took possession of the pieces, but this was only after a resistance and valor that made this Federal battery famous for all time to come. The possession of these pieces, however, was not to remain long with the Confederates. The captors were quickly surrounded with superior numbers, and the Confederate commander was compelled to cut his way out with heavy loss. He was glad to get away with even a remnant of his brave followers.

Hampton, Jones, Robertson were all now converging upon Fleetwood Hill. No sooner had Flournoy, who had already been seriously battered, arrived with the 6th Virginia Cavalry than he was ordered by General Stuart to charge the Federals on the right flank, which was to the east and south of Fleetwood Hill. The decimation of the day had reduced Flournoy’s regiment to two hundred men. Disparity of numbers had no terrors for these brave riders. They forced the lines of the enemy and attacked and captured their battery, but they were unable to hold it, as more than one thousand Federals attacked this regiment in the rear. But the scenes, like a kaleidoscope, were changing. Every turn of the wheel seemed to make new combinations. In the midst of this confusion and uncertainty General Wade Hampton appeared upon the scene. He entered upon their view at a gallop. As he approached Fleetwood Hill he saw the plateau covered with Federal cavalry. There was nothing to do but fight it out and so General Hampton ordered a charge of his columns.

This field was now to witness one of the most thrilling and stirring incidents of the entire war. By the commands on either side, two brigades of horsemen in column were to make an attempt to ride each other down. Such scenes with small numbers had occurred many times, but now it was to be tried out on a larger scale. Nearly evenly matched, the contest was to put to severest strain the valor and the grit of all who should enter the arena.

Neither dared await the shock that the charge of the other would bring. Motion, rapid motion alone would counteract the impact from either side. To stand still meant to be overwhelmed. To ride meant overturning, mayhap going down under a great crash, and possibly, if the sword and bullets should be escaped, then mangling or death beneath the bodies or hoofs of the maddened or injured horses.

The spirit of the hour was doing and daring. The leaders thought quickly and acted promptly. The day was well advanced when this event occurred.

Fifteen hundred horses would weigh one million, six hundred and fifty thousand pounds; fifteen hundred men would weigh two hundred and forty thousand pounds, an aggregate of one million, eight hundred and ninety thousand pounds.

One million, eight hundred and ninety thousand pounds of flesh and blood to rush at the rate of seven feet per second against a moving wall of like weight and material meant woe, ruin, desolation. It did not require long to cover the intervening space. Each side moved toward the other with grim determination, and two bodies thus in motion were to clash in a brief interval.

The men were enthused by the cries of “Charge! Charge! Charge!” and the excitement and exhilaration of battle and struggle made every heart fearless, defiant and reckless. They plunged their spurs into the sides of their steeds. Some drew their sabres, others their revolvers. The men spurring, shouting, yelling, by their enthusiasm, excited and aroused the dumb brutes, who seemed to feel the energy of combat. Racing at their highest speed, with mouths open and distended nostrils, madly and furiously they galloped to the onset.

Horses and men alike seemed to catch the animation of great deeds, and, as if in sympathy with each other, men and beasts together were willingly rushing onward to make destruction and wreck. Not a single man hesitated. Here and there a horse fell and his master went down to earth, but not one turned aside from the path of jeopardy and peril. The surging crowd, from both directions, was now, at highest speed, pushing relentlessly forward to overwhelm their foes. The beasts seemed almost human in the exhilaration and dash of the rapid charge, and appeared to apprehend the call that was being made upon their spirit and powers. Neither side took time to count the cost or figure the result. If either rode away or hesitated, they felt that the last state of that soldier would be worse than the first. There was nothing left but to fight out the issues that war at this moment had thus joined. Its terrors, if they reasoned, would overwhelm reason. Three minutes was all the time that was allowed to calculate before the awful shock would come. The crash would be bad enough, but on the eve of this, the deadly sabre loomed up before the eyes of the actors, the flash of the revolver and then the crush and down-going of stricken, maimed, dead brutes, and with them broken limbs and maimed bodies of the daring riders stood, if only for an instant, before the vision.

The fearful onset speedily came. Some horses passed their heads by, but this meant the lifting of the riders from their saddles to take their chances in the crush below. Horses’ heads met horses’ heads, and these sprang high into the air, and then fell in a heap on the ground. Others by the tremendous shock were killed and lay gasping in agony. Some swept by only to be turned about and anew to dash at their opposers. Of the men, some already pale in death lay beneath the bodies of their gasping steeds. Others, with glistening sabres, were cutting and slashing those who fell or lay by their side, or stood in their front. Again, others with their revolvers or carbines were firing at their foes and with savage determination fought without mercy or pity.

A dense cloud of dust rose from the spot where the struggling men and beasts had met. The smoke of firearms shut out the light of day. Amid these scenes of horror, darkness and suffering, men fought to the death. In a little while, from the dust and smoke, with blackened and stained faces the fighters began to rise. Those who had escaped returned to help those who had fallen. The passions of war seemed for a brief while satiated. The men in blue singly and in squads, glad to be relieved from the horrible surroundings, some walking and some riding, turned their faces from the fearful scenes of ruin and disaster that loomed up in ghastly horror before their eyes. They realized that the men in gray had vanquished them, and without a stain on their valor and courage, they marched away to cross the river they had forded at the coming of the dawn, with highest hopes and grandest expectations of victory.

Over toward the west was a part of the 1st New Jersey Cavalry. They had fought much during the day and they had fought well, but they were not dispirited and they were ready to fight some more. Young’s charge had cut them off from their comrades. They examined the field and saw that they must either surrender or cut their way through the Confederate lines. The Confederate guns were on a narrow ridge. To gain their friends, these New Jersey men must pass through or over these batteries. These Federal horsemen were too brave to hesitate at any danger, however appalling. What was to be done must be done quickly. Delay only increased danger and risks. The coward dies a thousand deaths, the brave man dies but one, and animated by the loftiest impulses of courage, they resolved to take the one chance, and if need be to face the iron storm they well knew must burst upon them, if they made gallant attempt to ride down their foes. The bugle blast ended all questionings, and forward they galloped to meet whatever the moment should bring.

The artillerymen looked and saw a new danger looming up on the horizon. With the speed of the wind the men in blue were riding down upon them. The pieces were quickly changed to meet this advancing foe. At this critical moment there were no Confederate horsemen to help defend or support the guns. The brave artillerists, spurred to sublime valor by the exigencies of the supreme test, resolved to defend their holdings or die with their pieces.

The blue-clad assailants came dashing upon the flank of the batteries. In a moment the guns were turned and hurling defiance and destruction in the face of the foes. They unhorsed and destroyed some, but they could not destroy all, and a remnant rushed in upon the nervy gunners who awaited the crash. It was a hand-to-hand fight between the men on horseback and the men on the cannons and on the ground. The Federal colonel fell at the side of a caisson. Another gunner fired a pistol ball into the heart of the Federal major. These died gloriously, but they died in vain. The charge failed. The enemy retreated and glory crowned the brave artillerists with new laurels. They were alone, but their name was legion, and they fought with fury and with success. The Confederates held the coveted hill. Gregg had made a great fight. He and his men had lost, but they had won for Federal cavalry great honor and had shown a valor that was worthy of any cause, and which entitled them to the praise of their people and their country. From the south, toward Culpepper Court House, clouds of dust now rose on the horizon. Long lines of Confederate infantry were seen advancing. They had come to help their cavalry comrades, but their coming so long delayed was of no avail. The horsemen, without help, had driven back their foes and these were now recrossing the Rappahannock, over which at dawn they had passed with sure and expectant hopes of a speedy and great victory.

Two men, who fell on the Confederate side, proved a great loss. Colonel Sol Williams, of the 2d North Carolina Cavalry, active, brave and gallant, observing that his regiment was inactive for a brief while, volunteering to ride with the charging column, went down at the front. His death was a great loss to his country and to the cavalry service.

Colonel Frank Hampton, younger brother of General Wade Hampton, discerning an emergency, placed himself at the head of a small squad, and charged a Federal column to delay its advance until other troops could be brought to resist it. With hardly one to fifteen of the foe, he assaulted the Federal column with fiercest vigor. His small company responded to duty’s call, but it was a forlorn hope. They died as brave men are ever ready to die for the cause they love. Colonel Hampton fell, mortally wounded, but he fell where all the Hamptons were wont to fall—at the front.

The Federal cavalry lost the field. They left some guns in possession of their foes, many banners, hundreds of prisoners and numerous dead. They hesitated long about leaving these things behind them, and a real grief filled their hearts at the thought that, after a day of so much daring and such brilliant achievement, they must recede before their foes and desert their wounded—remit them to the care and mercy of their enemies, and their dead to sepulture by the hands of those they had so valiantly fought.

These memories were depressing, but notwithstanding these sad recollections, they carried some splendid assurances from the field of carnage and ruin. They had met in an open field the best troopers the army of General Lee could send to conflict. Against these brave and experienced riders of the Confederates they had held their own, and for fourteen hours they had fought with a courage and an intrepidity that not even the Confederate legions could surpass. They had demonstrated that the Federal cavalry, when the conditions were equal, was not inferior to the men who rode with Stuart, and who had rendered his name and theirs illustrious. This new-found realization of power and courage gave Federal cavalry a pervading consciousness of their strength as warriors, and created in their minds and hearts a quickened courage that would bear them up and make them more fearless and efficient in the service their country would expect from them, in the twenty-two months that yet remained before the end would come, and Lee and his legions be compelled by the decrees of a pitiless fate to ground their arms and acknowledge Federal supremacy.