Stuart’s melancholy had all vanished. He was in splendid spirits. He hastened back his artillery to the point from which it had been driven, and soon its defiant roar was heard rising above the woods. At the same moment a courier galloped up. “What news?” “A dispatch from Gordon, general.” Stuart took it and read it with high good humor. “Gordon has had a handsome little affair this morning,” he said; “he has whipped them.” And looking toward the northwest-- “I wish Gordon was here,”[1] he said. [Footnote 1: His words.] The guns continued to roar, and the enemy had not again advanced. It was nearly four o’clock. Night approached. But the great blow was coming. Stuart was sitting his horse near the guns, with Breathed beside him. Suddenly the edge of the woods on the Mountain road swarmed with blue horsemen. As they appeared, the long lines of sabres darted from the scabbards; then they rushed like a hurricane toward the guns. The attack was so sudden and overpowering, that nothing could stand before it. For a short time the men fought desperately, crossing sabres and using their pistols. But the enemy’s numbers were too great. The left was driven back. With triumphant cheers, the Federal troopers pressed upon them to drive them completely from the field. Suddenly, as the men fell back, Stuart appeared, with drawn sabre, among them, calling upon them to rally. His voice rose above the fire, and a wild cheer greeted him. The men rallied, the enemy were met again, sabre to sabre, and the field became a scene of the most desperate conflict. Stuart led every charge. I shall never forget the appearance which he presented at that moment; with one hand he controlled his restive horse, with the other he grasped his sabre; in his cheeks burned the hot blood of the soldier. “Breathed!” he exclaimed. “General!” “Take command of all the mounted men in the road, and hold it against whatever may come! If this road is lost, we are gone!”[1] [Footnote 1: His words.] Breathed darted to the head of the men and shouted:-- “Follow me!” His sword flashed lightning, and digging the spur into his horse, he darted ahead of the column, disappearing in the middle of a swarm of enemies. A superb sight followed. Breathed was seen in the midst of the Federal cavalry defending himself, with pistol and sabre, against the blows which were aimed at him on every side. He cut one officer out of the saddle; killed a lieutenant with a pistol ball; was shot slightly in the side, and a sabre stroke laid open his head. But five minutes afterward he was seen to clear a path with his sabre, and reappear, streaming with blood.[1] [Footnote: This incident, like all here related as attending this battle, is rigidly true.]