going in greatest haste toward Cedar creek. Our men, with
wild enthusiasm, with shouts and cheers, regardless of order or
formation, joined in the hot pursuit. There was our mortal enemy, who
had but a few hours since driven us unceremoniously from our camps, now
beaten, routed, broken, bent on nothing but the most rapid flight. We
had not forgotten our humiliation of the morning, and the thought of it
gave fleetness to the feet of our pursuers.

From the point where we broke the rebel ranks to the crossing of Cedar
creek, was three miles, an open plain. Over this plain and down the pike
the panic-stricken army was flying, while our soldiers, without ever
stopping to load their pieces, were charging tardy batteries with empty
muskets, seizing prisoners by scores and hundreds, every Union soldier
his own commander, bent on nothing but the destruction of the flying
foe. As we reached Cedar creek, the pursuit was given over to the
cavalry. The gallant Custer, now in his wild joy, could be heard
shouting to his impetuous men, "Charge them! Charge them!" and then we
could hear words, hard to print, but which added startling emphasis to
the commands.

Crossing the river, he came upon the pike, crowded with men and cannon,
caissons and ambulances, wagons and pack animals. With one mighty sweep,
forty-five pieces of artillery, many wagons and ambulances, and hundreds
of prisoners, were taken. Merritt, too, captured seven guns, many
battle-flags, and prisoners without number. Indeed, the prisoners could
not be numbered, for there were not enough of the cavalry to guard them,
and as soon as they had thrown down their arms they were passed to the
rear, and in the darkness hundreds of them escaped to the mountains.
Through the darkness the cavalry kept up the pursuit until Mount Jackson
was passed.

The infantry returned to the camps, and as we took our old places,
cheers made the welkin ring; and then as we heard constantly of new
trophies, the wild huzzahs rang from one end of our army to the other.
Such wild joy has rarely been felt by an army. What cared the men of the
Nineteenth corps that they were forced to lie upon the ground without
tents or blankets? Our army was victorious and our honor saved.

The moon shining brightly over the battle-field revealed the camps of
the living side by side with the resting places of the dead. All the way
from Middletown to Cedar creek the debris of battle was scattered over
the fields.