“Glorious, glorious,” exclaimed the heroic Hood, at whose side I was standing, and who was most anxiously watching the charge. “Who can it be?”
An aid-de-camp presently appeared riding at full speed in the direction of General Lee’s headquarters. Hood hailed him with, “Who made that splendid charge?”
“Bradley Johnson, in command of the Third Virginia brigade,” was the response.
How my heart thrilled with pride and pleasure as I heard the announcement; for it was my late Colonel, fighting like the members of Atkins’ brigade, without a commission.
But what means this demonstration in our immediate front? Cheer after cheer, huzza upon huzza, and presently a long line of skirmishers appear over the intervening hill. An attack beyond question. They are met unhesitatingly by our skirmishers, and a fierce fight ensues. But the dense, dark column that now comes in view compels our advance to fall back. But Hood, with his Texans, Virginians and Mississippians, are in waiting. Rapidly they approach, and musket balls are whistling in every direction.
“Let them come a little closer,” I heard him remark to a staff officer, “they shall have a reception.”
Just then a voice behind us was heard to command, “Charge, General, charge!”
Judge my feelings as I turned my head and saw our beloved Lee sitting calmly upon his iron-grey, with but a single aid, and exposed to this severe fire.
But we had little time for reflection, for the clarion voice of Hood was heard the next instant to “fix bayonets,” and then came the command “forward, double-quick,” and the long line of glittering steel rushed madly down the hill.
The collision was awful, and the enemy was unable to resist its force, though he stood to his work manfully. Gallant men fell by hundreds on both sides. The Federal troops gave way; and the field was covered with thousands of fugitives. The column in grey pressed on until it neared the village of Groveton. What is this dark mass seen in the twilight thundering down upon us, making the very earth tremble? The column halts. On come the gallant troopers. The sight is grand beyond description. Nearer and nearer they approach. They are almost upon us! “Fire,” is the command, and the heavens are lit up by the flash that leaps along the line; and when the smoke lifts, hundreds of riderless steeds are seen flying frantically across the plain, whilst the ground in front of us is covered with dead and wounded men and horses.