The Confederate infantry, still hidden by the rolling ground, was forming for attack, when a Federal brigade, led by General Gibbon, rapidly deploying on the slopes, moved forward against the guns.  It was Stuart’s horse-artillery, so the Northerners believed, which had fired on the column, and a bold attack would soon drive back the cavalry.  But as Gibbon’s regiments came forward the Southern skirmishers, lying in front of the batteries, sprang to their feet and opened with rapid volleys; and then the grey line of battle, rising suddenly into view, bore down upon the astonished foe.  Taliaferro, on the right, seized a small farmhouse near Gainesville, and occupied the orchard; the Stonewall Brigade advanced upon his left, and Lawton and Trimble prolonged the front towards the Douglass House.  But the Western farmers of Gibbon’s brigade were made of stubborn stuff.  The Wisconsin regiments held their ground with unflinching courage.  Both flanks were protected by artillery, and strong reinforcements were coming up.  The advanced guard was gradually falling back from Groveton; the rear brigades were hurrying forward up the road.  The two Confederate batteries, overpowered by superior metal, had been compelled to shift position; only a section of Stuart’s horse-artillery under Captain Pelham had come to their assistance, and the battle was confined to a frontal attack at the closest range.  In many places the lines approached within a hundred yards, the men standing in the open and blazing fiercely in each other’s faces.  Here and there, as fresh regiments came up on either side, the grey or the blue gave way for a few short paces; but the gaps were quickly filled, and the wave once more surged forward over the piles of dead.  Men fell like leaves in autumn.  Ewell was struck down and Taliaferro, and many of their field officers, and still the Federals held their ground.  Night was settling on the field, and although the gallant Pelham, the boy soldier, brought a gun into action within seventy paces of Gibbon’s line, yet the front of fire, flashing redly through the gloom, neither receded nor advanced.  A flank attack on either side would have turned the scale, but the fight was destined to end as it had begun.  The Federal commander, ignorant of the enemy’s strength, and reaching the field when the fight was hottest, was reluctant to engage his last reserves.  Jackson had ordered Early and Forno, moving through the wood west of the Douglass House, to turn the enemy’s right; but within the thickets ran the deep cuttings and high embankments of the unfinished railroad; and the regiments, bewildered in the darkness, were unable to advance.  Meanwhile the fight to the front had gradually died away.  The Federals, outflanked upon the left, and far outnumbered, had slowly retreated to the road.  The Confederates had been too roughly handled to pursue.