of ammunition waggons, were captured on the field, prisoners surrendered at every step, and the fight surged onward towards the bridges.  But between the bridges and the battlefield, on the slopes falling to the Chickahominy, the dark forest covered the retreat of the routed army.  Night had already fallen.  The confusion in the ranks of the Confederates was extreme, and it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe.  All direction had been lost.  None knew the bearings of the bridges, or whether the Federals were retreating east or south.  Regiments had already been exposed to the fire of their comrades, and in front of the forest a perceptible hesitation seized on both officers and men.  At this moment, in front of D.H.  Hill’s division, which was advancing by the road leading directly to the bridges, loud cheers were heard.  It was clear that Federal reinforcements had arrived; the general ordered his troops to halt, and along the whole line the forward movement came quickly to a standstill.  Two brigades, French’s and Meagher’s, tardily sent over by McClellan, had arrived in time to stave off a terrible disaster.  Pushing through the mass of fugitives with the bayonet, these fine troops had crossed the bridge, passed through the woods, and formed line on the southern crest of the plateau.  Joining the regulars, who still presented a stubborn front, they opened a heavy fire, and under cover of their steadfast lines Porter’s troops withdrew across the river.

Notwithstanding this strong reinforcement of 5000 or 6000 fresh troops, it is by no means impossible, had the Confederates pushed resolutely forward, that the victory would have been far more complete.  “Winder,” says General D.H.  Hill, “thought that we ought to pursue into the woods, on the right of the Grapevine Bridge road; but not knowing the position of our friends, nor what Federal reserves might be awaiting us in the woods, I thought it advisable not to move on.  General Lawton concurred with me.  I had no artillery to shell the woods in front, as mine had not got through the swamp.  Winder,” he adds, “was right; even a show of pressure must have been attended with great result."* (* Battles and Leaders volume 2 page 357.) Had Jackson been at hand the pressure would in all probability have been applied.  The contagion of defeat soon spreads; and whatever reserves a flying enemy may possess, if they are vigorously attacked whilst the fugitives are still passing through their ranks, history tells us, however bold their front, that, unless they are intrenched, their resistance is seldom long protracted.  More than all, when night has fallen on the field, and prevents all estimate of the strength of the attack, a resolute advance has peculiar chances of success.  But when his advanced line halted Jackson was not yet up; and before he arrived the impetus of victory had died away; the Federal reserves were deployed in a strong position, and the opportunity had already passed.