ers and two hundred and
seventy-five guns. Lee called Stonewall Jackson to join Longstreet at
Fredericksburg.

On the twenty-second the 1st Corps quitted, amid smiles and tears, many
a "God keep you!" and much cheering, Winchester the beloved. Out swung
the long column upon the Valley pike. Advance and main and rear, horse
and foot and guns, Stonewall Jackson and his twenty-five thousand took
the old road. The men were happy. "Old road, old road, old road, howdy
do! How's your health, old lady? Haven't you missed us? Haven't you
missed us? We've missed _you_!"

It was Indian summer, violet, dream-like. By now there had been burning
and harrowing in the Valley; war had laid his mailed hand upon the
region. It was not yet the straining clutch of later days, but it was
bad enough. The Indian summer wrapped with a soft touch of mourning
purple much of desolation, much of untilled earth, and charred
roof-tree, and broken walls. The air was soft and gentle, lying balmy
and warm on the road and ragged fields, and the haze so hid the
distances that the column thought not so much of how the land was
scarred as of the memories that thronged on either side of the Valley
pike. "Kernstown! The field of Kernstown. There's Fulkerson's wall.
About five hundred years ago!"

Stonewall Jackson, riding in the van, may be supposed to have had his
memories, too. He did not express them. He was using expedition, and he
sent back orders. "Press forward, men! Press forward." He rode quietly,
forage cap pulled low; or, standing with Little Sorrel on some wayside
knoll, he watched for a while his thousands passing. Stuart's gay
present had taken the air but once. Here was the old familiar,
weather-worn array, leaf brown from sun and wind and dust and rain,
patched here and patched there, dull of buttons, and with the lace worn
off. Here were the old boots, the sabre, the forage cap; here were the
blue glint of the eye and the short "Good! good!" as the men passed. The
marching men shouted for him. He nodded, and having noted whatever it
was he had paused to note, shook Little Sorrel's bridle and stiffly
galloped to the van again.

Past Newtown, past Middletown, on to Strasburg--the Massanuttons loomed
ahead, all softly coloured yet with reds and golds. "Massanutton!
Massanutton!" said the troops. "We've seen you before, and you've seen
us before! Front Royal's at your head and Port Republic's at your feet."

"In Virginia