George H. Gordon, From Brook Farm to Cedar Mountain

[201] eleven o'clock in the morning.¹ The two brigades of infantry were in the order of march indicated: Colonel Donelly in front, myself in rear, and General Hatch with his cavalry as rear-guard,--instructed then, but too late, to do what Banks says in his report he had ordered to be done at three A. M. Our course was directly for Winchester; the distance was eighteen miles. Fortunately for us, the day was cool and misty. We had cleared the town and reached Cedar Creek, about two miles out, when signs of excitement and panic were apparent. Frightened teamsters came thundering back towards Strasburg, urging their mules at a gallop,--some as if to gain the town we had left for new loads of stores, others as if in a frenzy of fright to escape from the front. Here too I met, in woful plight, the theatrical company, so gay the night before, but now how crest-fallen! There were actors, male and female, with their canvas theatre, looking inquiringly yet despairingly into the face of every passing officer, as if, in this hopeless maze, there alone could hope be found. In the midst of all this confusion there came galloping rapidly back a staff-officer from Banks, crying, “The enemy is upon us!” and without stop bolted on to hurry up my battery, which went at double-quick, while we followed three or four miles further, until we came to where there was a halted wagon-train. Here two or three wagon-masters were striking the stampeded wagoners right and left with their heavy cowhide whips, using oaths more forcible than polite to drive them back to their duty. The cry then was that the Rebel cavalry had come down on the train, and there had been a regular stampede. General Banks was now on the alert, and well he might be. Before him was a confused mob of terror-stricken teamsters, intermingled with