there's a Valley,
Valley, Valley!
Where all day the war drums beat,
Beat, Beat!
And the soldiers love the Valley
Valley, Valley!
And the Valley loves the soldiers,
Soldiers, soldiers!"

Past Strasburg, past Tom's Brook, past Rude's Hill--through the still
November days, in the Indian summer weather, the old Army of the Valley,
the old Ewell's Division, the Light Division, D. H. Hill's Division,
moved up the Valley Pike. All were now the 2d Corps, Stonewall Jackson
riding at its head. The people--the people were mostly women and
children--flocked to the great highroad to bring the army things, to
wave it onward, to say "God bless you!"--"God keep you!"--"God make you
to conquer!"

The 2d Corps passed Woodstock, and Edenburg, and Mt. Jackson, and came
to New Market, and here it turned eastward. "Going to leave you,"
chanted the troops. "Going to leave you, old road, old road! Take care
of yourself till we come again!"

Up and up and over Massanutton wound the 2d Corps. The air was still,
not cold. The gold leaves drifted on the troops, and the red. From the
top of the pass the view was magnificent. Down and down wound the column
to the cold, swift Shenandoah. The men forded the stream. "Oh,
Shenandoah! Oh, Shenandoah! when will we ford you again?"

Up and up the steeps of the Blue Ridge to Fisher's Gap! All the air was
dreamy, the sun sloping to the west, the crows cawing in the mountain
clearings. The column was leaving the Valley, and a silence fell upon
it. Stonewall Jackson rode ahead, on the mountain path, in the last gold
light. At the summit of the pass there was a short halt. It went by in a
strange quietness. The men turned and gazed. "The Valley of Virginia!
The Valley of Virginia! _Which of us will not see you again?_"

The Alleghenies lay faint, faint, beneath the flooding light. The sun
sent out great rays of purple and rose. Between the mountain ranges the
vast landscape lay in shadow, though here and there a high hilltop, a
mountain spur had a coronet of gold. The 2d Corps, twenty-five thousand
men, high on the Blue Ridge, looked and looked. "Some of us will not see
you again. Some of us will not see you again, O loved Valley of
Virginia!" _Column Forward! Column Forward!_

CHAPTER XLV

THE LONE TREE HILL

The three beautiful Carys w