Gordon had formed his line of battle across the road just beyond the
court-house--and supported by Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, and Carter's
artillery on his right, was advancing with measured steps to break
through the enemy.
It was a spectacle to make the pulse throb. The little handful was
going to death unmoved. The red light of morning darted from the
burnished gun-barrels of the infantry, the sabres of the cavalry, and
the grim cannon following, in sombre lightnings.
Gordon, the "Bayard of the army," was riding in front of his line. The
hour and the men had both come. Steadily the old guard of the army of
Northern Virginia advanced to its last field of battle.
[Illustration: THE LAST CHARGE]
Suddenly, in front of them, the woods swarmed with the enemy's
infantry, cavalry, and artillery. The great multitude had evidently
employed the hours of night well. Grant's entire army seemed to have
massed itself in Gordon's front.
But the force was not the question. Gordon's one thousand six hundred
men were in motion. And when Gordon moved forward he always fought, if
he found an enemy.
In five minutes the opponents had closed in, in stubborn fight, and the
woods roared with musketry, cannon, and carbines.
Then a resounding cheer rose. The enemy had recoiled before Gordon, and
he pressed forward, sweeping every thing in his path for nearly a mile
beyond the court-house.
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