Leaving the field on foot with this piece, I found the remainder of the battery a short distance away on the road, moving toward Centreville. Procuring a horse from one of the sergeants, I returned to the field in search of the horse that I had lost, for which I had great affection. The scene was one of indescribable confusion, although there appeared to be no fright or terror in the minds of the men who were leaving the field. Officers seemed to have lost all identity with their commands, subalterns and even colonels moving along in the scattered crowd as if their work was over and they were wearily seeking the repose of their domiciles. The scene was such as to remind one of that which can be seen daily in any large manufacturing town or village, when the operatives, let loose by the expiration of their hours of labor, all set out for their respective homes. During working hours the system for work is maintained, but upon the ringing of the bell, all depart according to their respective bents and wills. So upon this field, the general impression seemed to be that the day's work was done and that the next thing in order was repose. There were a few notable exceptions. I remember well a large and powerful man, a field officer of what I took to be a Maine regiment--at any rate he and his men were uniformed in gray--using the most strenuous exertions to get his men together. He coaxed, threatened and applied to them every epithet that he seemed capable of, but all to no purpose. The idea of the men seemed to be that their work was over for the day, and that they were going home to rest, not realizing apparently, that whether on or off duty, they were subject to the orders that their officers deemed best to give.