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.