When Foley brought his troop to a halt, Captain Fairbanks, at the head of the first company of Scouts, was at the point where the first volley of musketry had been received.  The narrow lane was crowded by a dense mass of struggling horses, and filled with the tumult of battle.  Captain Fairbanks says, and he is corroborated by several of his men who were near, that at this moment an officer of the Guard rode up to him and said, “They are flying; take your men down that lane and cut off their retreat,”—­pointing to the lane at the left.  Captain Fairbanks was not able to identify the person who gave this order.  It certainly did not come from Zagonyi, who was several hundred yards farther on.  Captain Fairbanks executed the order, followed by the second company of Prairie Scouts, under Captain Kehoe.  When this movement was made, Captain Naughton, with the Third Irish Dragoons, had not reached the corner of the lane.  He came up at a gallop, and was about to follow Fairbanks, when he saw a Guardsman who pointed in the direction in which Zagonyi had gone.  He took this for an order, and obeyed it.  When he reached the gap in the fence, made by Foley, not seeing anything of the Guard, he supposed they had passed through at that place, and gallantly attempted to follow.  Thirteen men fell in a few minutes.  He was shot in the arm and dismounted.  Lieutenant Connolly spurred into the underbrush and received two balls through the lungs and one in the left shoulder.  The Dragoons, at the outset not more than fifty strong, were broken, and, dispirited by the loss of their officers, retired.  A sergeant rallied a few and brought them up to the gap again, and they were again driven back.  Five of the boldest passed down the hill, joined Zagonyi, and were conspicuous by their valor during the rest of the day.—­Fairbanks and Kehoe, having gained the rear and left of the enemy’s position, made two or three assaults upon detached parties of the foe, but did not join in the main attack.

I now return to the Guard.  It is forming under the shelter of the hill.  In front with a gentle inclination rises a grassy slope broken by occasional tree-stumps.  A line of fire upon the summit marks the position of the Rebel infantry, and nearer and on the top of a lower eminence to the right stand their horse.  Up to this time no Guardsman has struck a blow, but blue coats and bay horses lie thick along the bloody lane.  Their time has come.  Lieutenant Maythenyi with thirty men is ordered to attack the cavalry.  With sabres flashing over their heads, the little band of heroes spring towards their tremendous foe.  Right upon the centre they charge.  The dense mass opens, the blue coats force their way in, and the whole Rebel squadron scatter in disgraceful flight through the cornfields in the rear.  The bays follow them, sabring the fugitives.  Days after, the enemy’s horses lay thick among the uncut corn.