"...up rode [John Darby] in red-hot haste, threw his bridle to one of the men who was holding the horses and came toward us, rapidly clanking his cavalry spurs with a despairing sound. 'Stop! It's all up. We are ordered back to the Rappahannock. The brigade is marching through Richmond now.'
... At the turnpike we stood in the sidewalk and saw ten thousand men march by. We had seen nothing like this before. Hitherto, it was only regiments marching, spic and span in their fresh smart clothes, just from home on their way to the army.
Such rags and tags—nothing alike—most garments and arms taken from the enemy—such shoes! 'Oh our brave boys!' moaned Buck. Such tin pans and pots tied to their waists—bread or bacon stuck on the ends of their bayonets. Anything that could be spiked was bayoneted and held aloft.
They did not seem to know their shabby condition. They laughed and shouted and cheered as they marched by. Not a disrespectful or light word. But they went for the men huddled behind us—who at last seemed trying to be as small as possible and to escape observation in our rear.
'Ladies, send those puny conscripts on to their regiments.'"
