At the end of July, about the same time that Hill joined Jackson, Pope, under instructions from Washington, moved forward.  His cavalry occupied the line of Robertson River, within twenty miles of the Confederate lines, and it became clear that he intended advancing on Gordonsville.  His infantry, however, had not yet crossed Hazel Run, and Jackson, carefully concealing his troops, remained on the watch for a few days longer.  His anxiety, however, to bring his enemy to battle was even greater than usual.  Pope had already gained an unenviable notoriety.  On taking over command he had issued an extraordinary address.  His bombast was only equalled by his want of tact.  Not content with extolling the prowess of the Western troops, with whom he had hitherto served, he was bitterly satirical at the expense of McClellan and of McClellan’s army.  “I have come to you,” he said to his soldiers, “from the West, where we have always seen the backs of our enemies—­from an army whose business it has been to seek the adversary, and beat him when found, whose policy has been attack and not defence...I presume that I have been called here to pursue the same system, and to lead you against the enemy.  It is my purpose to do so, and that speedily...Meantime, I desire you to dismiss from your minds certain phrases, which I am sorry to find much in vogue amongst you.  I hear constantly of taking strong positions and holding them—­of lines of retreat and of bases of supplies.  Let us discard such ideas...Let us study the probable line of retreat of our opponents, and leave our own to take care of themselves.  Let us look before and not behind.  Success and glory are in the advance.  Disaster and shame lurk in the rear."* (* O.R. volume 12 part 3 page 474.)

Even the Northern press made sport of Pope’s “’Ercles vein,” and the Confederates contrasted his noisy declamation with the modesty of Lee and Jackson.  To the South the new commander was peculiarly obnoxious.  He was the first of the Federal generals to order that the troops should subsist upon the country, and that the people should be held responsible for all damage done to roads, railways, and telegraphs by guerillas.  His orders, it is true, were warranted by the practice of war.  But “forced requisitions,” unless conducted on a well-understood system, must inevitably degenerate into plunder and oppression; and Pope, in punishing civilians, was not careful to distinguish between the acts of guerillas and those of the regular Confederate cavalry.  “These orders,” says a Northern historian, “were followed by the pillaging of private property, and by insults to females to a degree unknown heretofore during the war.”  But in comparison with a third edict they were mild and humane.  On July 23 Pope’s generals were instructed to arrest every Virginian within the limits of their commands, to administer the oath of allegiance to the Union, and to expel from their homes all those who refused to take it.  This order was preceded