His sad smile had
disappeared; his cheeks were flushed; his eyes fiery;--leaping from his
horse, he seized the sponge-staff of a gun, from which all the
cannoneers had been driven, and ramming home a charge of canister,
directed the gun upon a column of the enemy.
Before he could fire, a Federal cavalryman rode at him, and cut
furiously at his bare head, with the full weight of his sabre.
Davenant did not try to draw his sword--the attempt would have been
useless. In his hand he had a weapon; and with a swing of the rammer he
swept the cavalryman from the saddle.[1] He fell headlong, covered with
blood; and Davenant aimed and fired the charge of canister--leaped upon
his horse--and drawing his sword, plunged into the melee, his head
bare, his eyes flaming, his voice rising loud and inspiring, above the
combat.
[Footnote 1: Fact.]
It was a stubborn, a superb struggle. Three times the enemy's guns were
charged and captured; three times the Confederates were furiously
charged in turn, and the pieces recaptured by the enemy.[1] A final
charge of the gray cavalry carried all before it. The Federal artillery
was seized upon, and their cavalry driven back--but at that moment a
heavier force still was seen advancing upon Stuart from the direction
of Kelly's ford.
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