eral upheaval and wreck at the
Stone Bridge, or on the field of battle; Quartermasters, with their
teamsters riding or leading their horses, their wagons abandoned or
over run by others in the mad rush to escape across the bridge before
it was blocked. Along the road loose horses roamed at will, while the
sides of the pike were strewn with discarded blankets, tent flies,
oilcloths and clothing, the men being forced to free themselves of all
surplus incumbrances in order to keep up with the moving mass. At one
place we passed General Early, sitting on his horse by the roadside,
viewing the motley crowd as it passed by. He looked sour and haggard.
You could see by the expression of his face the great weight upon his
mind, his deep disappointment, his unspoken disappointment. What was
yesterday a proud, well-disciplined army that had accomplished during
the first part of the day all, or more, that even the most sanguine
General could have expected--crossed rivers, pulled themselves over
the mountains, assaulted and surprised an enemy who lay in feeling
security behind almost impregnable fortifications, routed and driven
them from the field, capturing almost the whole camp equipage with
twenty field pieces--now before him poured, the same victorious army,
beaten, stampeded, without order or discipline, all the fruits of
victory and his own camp equipage gone, his wagon trains abandoned,
the men without arms, his cannoneers without cannonry and every color
trailing in the dust. And what caused it? The sudden change from
victory to defeat. It was not the want of Generalship, for General
Early had wisely planned. It was not for lack of courage of the
troops, for that morning they had displayed valor and over come
obstacles which would have baffled and dismayed less bold spirits. Was
it for the superior gallantry of the enemy's troops or the superior
Generalship of their adversary? The latter was awry, and the former
had been routed from their entrenchments by the bayonet of the
Confederates. Sheridan did not even hope to stop our victorious march,
only to check it sufficiently to enable him to save the remnant of
his army. A feeble advance, a panic strikes our army, and all is
lost, while no individual, officer, brigade, or regiment could be held
responsible. It shows that once a panic strikes an army all discipline
is lost and nothing but time will restore it. For nearly one hundred
years historians have been framing reasons a