Confederate wizards of the saddle /

by Bennett H. Young

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.

MAP OF BATTLEFIELD OF FLEETWOOD HILL

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.