Longstreet and Early with sudden rush of tigers sprang at the
throats of the Union lines in front.

The men had scarcely gripped their guns to receive the assault when from
the rear rose the unearthly yell of the new army swooping down on their
unprotected flank.

It was too much for the raw recruits of the North. They had marched and
fought with dogged courage since two o'clock before day--without pause
for food or drink. It was now four in the afternoon and the blazing sun
of July was pouring its merciless rays down on their dust-covered and
smoke-grimed faces without mercy.

McDowell's right wing was crumpled like an eggshell between the combined
charges front and rear. It broke and rushed back in confusion on his
center. The whole army floundered a moment in tangled mass. In vain
their officers shouted themselves hoarse proclaiming their victory and
ordering them to rally.

Wild, hopeless, senseless, unreasoning panic had seized the Union army.
They threw down their guns in thousands and started at breakneck speed
for Washington. With every jump they cursed their idiotic commanders
for leading them blindfolded into the jaws of hell. At least they had
common sense enough left to save what was left.

The fields were covered with black swarms of flying soldiers. They cut
the horses from the gun carriages, mounted them and dashed forward
trampling down the crazed mobs on foot.

As the shouting, screaming throng rushed at the Cub Run bridge, a well
directed shot from Kemper's battery smashed a team of horses that were
crossing. The wagon was upset and the bridge choked.

In mad efforts to force a passage mob piled on mob until the panic
enveloped every division of the army that thirty minutes before was
sweeping with swift, sure tread to its final victorious charge.

Across every bridge and ford of Bull Run the panic-stricken thousands
rushed pellmell, horse, foot, artillery, wagons, ambulances, excursion
carriages, red-jowled politicians mingling with screaming women whose
faces showed death white through the rouge on their lips and cheeks.

For three miles rolled the dark tide of ruin and confusion--with not one
Confederate soldier in sight.

It was three o'clock before the train bearing the anxious Confederate
President and his staff drew into Manassas Junction. He had heard no
news from the front and feared the worst. The long deep boom of the
great guns told him that the battle was raging.

From the ca