George H. Gordon, From Brook Farm to Cedar Mountain

“ [296] were unheeded amid the vast uproar and shouts of the assailants. Colonel Campbell was slain, but the survivors of the second brigade fought on without rank or method, with bayonet-thrust and musket clubbed, until borne back, like angry foam on mighty waves, towards the high road.” ¹ Though the right of Early's brigade still stood unmoved, we were gaining the rear of the enemy's line in the open field, when Jackson called upon his reserves. He threw forward the old Stonewall brigade of Winder's division, with Branch's of Hill's division; and these, with the newly formed lines of those that had been broken, arrested our progress, and compelled our hitherto victorious troops to fly back through the bloody timber over the fatal wheat and corn fields. Jackson says1 the two brigades of his reserves “drove our troops back with terrible slaughter;” while Hill² says, “The pursuit was checked, and the enemy driven back.”

But to Dabney must we turn for Jackson's achievements in heroic measure. As contrasting the laconic despatch of Jackson himself, from the actual field of his prowess, with the gorgeous word-painting of his Boswellian Dabney, the quotation is pertinent:--

It was at this fearful moment that the genius of the storm reared his head amidst the tumultuous billows, and in an instant the threatening tide was turned. Jackson appeared in the mad torrent of the highway, his figure instinct with majesty, and his face flaming with the inspiration of battle. He ordered Winder's batteries to be instantly withdrawn, to protect them from capture, issued his summons for his reserves, drew his own sabre for the first time in the war, and shouted to his broken troops, with a voice which pealed higher than the roar of battle,