especial force
to Jackson. After the unfortunate episode in the pursuit from
Middletown, he had rated his cavalry leader in no measured terms for
the indiscipline of his command; and for some days their intercourse,
usually most cordial, had been simply official. Sensitive in the
extreme to any reflection upon himself or his troops, Ashby held
aloof; and Jackson, always stern when a breach of duty was concerned,
made no overtures for a renewal of friendly intercourse. Fortunately,
before the fatal fight near Harrisonburg, they had been fully
reconciled; and with no shadow of remorse Jackson was able to offer
his tribute to the dead. Entering the room in Port Republic, whither
the body had been brought, he remained for a time alone with his old
comrade; and in sending an order to his cavalry, added, "Poor Ashby
is dead. He fell gloriously--one of the noblest men and soldiers in
the Confederate army." A more public testimony was to come. In his
official report he wrote: "The close relation General Ashby bore to
my command for most of the previous twelve months will justify me in
saying that as a partisan officer I never knew his superior. His
daring was proverbial, his powers of endurance almost incredible, his
character heroic, and his sagacity almost intuitive in divining the
purposes and movements of the enemy."

On the 6th and 7th the Confederate infantry rested on the banks of
Mill Creek, near Cross Keys. The cavalry, on either flank of the
Massanuttons, watched both Fremont's camps at Harrisonburg and the
slow advance of Shields; and on the southern peak of the mountains a
party of signallers, under a staff officer, looked down upon the
roads which converged on the Confederate position.

June 7.

June 7 was passed in unwonted quiet. For the first time for fifteen
days since the storming of Front Royal the boom of the guns was
silent. The glory of the summer brooded undisturbed on hill and
forest; and as the escort which followed Ashby to his grave passed
down the quiet country roads, the Valley lay still and peaceful in
the sunshine. Not a single Federal scout observed the melancholy
cortege. Fremont's pursuit had been roughly checked. He was uncertain
in which direction the main body of the Confederates had retreated;
and it was not till evening that a strong force of infantry,
reconnoitring through the woods, struck Jackson's outposts near the
hamlet of Cross Keys. Only a few shots were exchanged.

Shields,