victory from the enemy. He then led the column along
the crest of the slope, and forming line, turned to his men and explained
his purpose, well knowing what he could expect from the splendid fellows.

Then Washburn ordered "Forward!" The line trotted down the slope. In a
moment came his clear call "Gallop, march! Charge!" And to the music from
the brazen throats of their own trumpets chiming with their fierce battle
shout, those seventy-eight Massachusetts horsemen hurled themselves upon
the heavy masses of the foe.

For a few moments the air was bright with the flashing of sabres, and
shattered by the explosion of carbine and pistol, while screams of rage
mingled with the cries of the wounded and all the hideous sounds of a
savage hand-to-hand fight. As all this died away, it was seen that the
immediate body of troops which the Fourth Cavalry had struck was
practically annihilated. Their dead and wounded were scattered thickly
over the field, while the crowd of prisoners taken was embarrassing to the
captors. Driving these before them back toward the hill, to which they
must retire to reform for attack upon the enemy's horse (for Washburn's
mere handful of men forbade his leaving any to form the reserve without
which cavalry almost never can charge without great risk) they were
astounded at the sight which presented itself on the Burkesville road. As
far as the eye could reach, it was filled with Confederate cavalry, and
lines of battle were forming as rapidly as possible and advancing swiftly
to the aid of their defeated van.

All hope of victory or of escape from such a field was now utterly gone,
but the colonel and his men were mad with the fury of battle, and wild
with exultation over the bloody triumph already achieved. But one thought
possessed them. The little battalion swept down the slope once more,
pressing close behind their knightly leader and their blue standard. They
crashed through three lines of their advancing enemies, tearing their
formation asunder as the tornado cuts its way through the forest. But now,
order and coherence were lost, and the troopers mingled with the
Confederates in a bitter hand-to-hand struggle. A few scattered fighters
were rallied from out this fearful melee by the gallant Captain Hodges,
than whom a more chivalrous soldier never drew sabre. He led them in a
last furious charge, in which he fell, as he would have wished, "amid the
battle's wildest tide."

By this time, all