Stuart placed three of his guns under the locust-trees, which shaded the road west of the old tavern. There were two more guns on a knoll, east of the tavern and south of it, hidden from sight, but so placed, that if Pleasanton charged down the turnpike, he would be cut to pieces by grape and canister. Stuart thought to get Pleasanton into a trap. He erected a barricade in the road behind a knoll, which Pleasanton could not see. He piled up wagons, rails, plows, harrows, boxes, and barrels. If Pleasanton charged, he would bring up against the barricade, where he would be destroyed by the cross-fire of the batteries. But Pleasanton was cautious as well as courageous. He came into position half a mile distant, and opened a fire which cut down the locust-trees, tore through the old tavern, and made it more than ever a ruin. He kept three hundred men in the road sheltered by a hill, and out of Stuart's sight, ready for a charge, and deployed a squadron of the Eighth Illinois, the Eighth New York, and a portion of the Sixth Regulars in the fields on the right-hand side of the road, keeping them mounted. They faced south. He dismounted the remainder of the Sixth Regulars, who left their horses in the woods, and moved round upon Stuart's left, east of the old tavern. They saw the barricade, and told Pleasanton what they had discovered. They commenced a sharp fire, to which Stuart replied. He weakened his force behind the locust-trees, and sent reinforcements to his right to hold in check the dismounted Regulars. Suddenly the bugles on Pleasanton's right sounded a charge. The men drew their sabers. The sharp, shrill music set their blood in motion. It thrilled them. "Forward!" Away they dashed. The three hundred men filing from the road into the field on the right, deploying into line, wheeling, then, with a hurrah, with a trampling of hoofs which shook the earth, increasing from a trot to a gallop, they fell upon Stuart's left. The Rebels fired their carbines. The Rebel artillerymen under the locust-trees wheeled their guns towards the northwest, but before they could fire, the three hundred were upon them. Instead of firing, the cannoneers leaped upon their horses, and made all haste to escape. They succeeded in carrying off their guns, but left twenty-two prisoners in the hands of Pleasanton. The affair did not last more than twenty minutes, but it was the most brilliant of all the operations of the cavalry connected with the army of the Potomac up to that date,--the 6th of November, 1862. The orders which General McClellan had issued to the army forbade the soldiers to forage. If supplies were wanted, the quartermasters and commissaries would supply them. Notwithstanding the order, however, the soldiers managed to have roast chickens and turkeys, and delicious mutton-chops, legs of veal, and pork-steaks. At night, there was stewing, frying, and roasting by the bivouac fires.