opposition or loss, and by five o'clock had reached a point one and
a half miles nearer Corinth than the point of attack Sabbath
morning.

Up to this time the pursuit seemed feeble, and the Confederates were
surprised that the victorious Federals made no more of their
advantage. Nor is it yet understood why the pursuit was not pressed.
A rapid and persistent pursuit would have created a complete rout of
the now broken, weary, and dispirited Rebels. Two hours more of
such fighting as Buell's fresh men could have made, would have
demoralized and destroyed Beauregard's army. For some reason this
was not done, and night closed the battle.

About five o'clock I requested permission to ride on toward Corinth,
as I was faint and weary, and, from the pain in my side and knee,
would not be able to keep the saddle much longer. This was granted,
and I made a _détour_ from the road on which the army was
retreating, that I might travel faster and get ahead of the main
body. In this ride of twelve miles alongside of the routed army, I
saw more of human agony and woe than I trust I will ever again be
called on to witness. The retreating host wound along a narrow and
almost impassable road, extending some seven or eight miles in
length. Here was a long line of wagons loaded with wounded, piled in
like bags of grain, groaning and cursing, while the mules plunged on
in mud and water belly-deep, the water sometimes coming into the
wagons. Next came a straggling regiment of infantry pressing on past
the train of wagons, then a stretcher borne upon the shoulders of
four men, carrying a wounded officer, then soldiers staggering
along, with an arm broken and hanging down, or other fearful wounds
which were enough to destroy life. And to add to the horrors of the