the British officer was distinctly heard: “Front rank,—bayonets—second rank,—fire!”—and as no discharge immediately followed, the cavalry officers felt extreme solicitude, lest its reservation was meant to make it the more fatal on their near approach, for on the narrow road, and in the close column in which they were rushing on, a well-directed fire would have emptied half of their saddles—but happily the soldiers, alarmed by the formidable appearance of the cavalry, threw down their arms and supplicated for quarter, which the cavalry were most happy to grant them. The prisoners being secured, the main body of the cavalry pushed on under Armstrong for the bridge, which was still about three miles in front, in the hope of cutting off the enemy before they should succeed in reaching it. As Armstrong came in sight, he found that Coates had passed the bridge, and that he was indolently reposing on the opposite side of the river, awaiting his rear guard and baggage. He had, by way of precaution, taken up the planks from the bridge, letting them lie loosely on the sleepers, intending as soon as the rear should have crossed, to destroy it. Seeing the enemy with the bridge thus interposed, which he knew was contrary to the commandant’s anticipations, Armstrong drew up, and sent back word to Lee, who was still with the prisoners, requesting orders, never communicating the fact that the bridge was interposed. Lee’s adjutant soon came galloping back with the laconic answer:—“The order of the day, sir, is to fall upon the enemy, without regard to consequences.”