f his right and centre, and commanded his line
of retreat at effective range. Sending his reserves to retake the
battery, he directed his attacking line, already pressing heavily on
Winder, to fall back at once. But it was even then too late. The rest
of Ewell's division had reached the field. One of his brigades had
been ordered to sustain the Lousianians; and across the plain a long
column of infantry and artillery was hurrying northwards from Port
Republic.

The Stonewall Brigade, relieved of the pressure in front, had already
rallied; and when Tyler's reserves, with their backs to the river,
advanced to retake the battery, Jackson's artillery was once more
moving forward. The guns captured by Taylor were turned against the
Federals--Ewell, it is said, indulging to the full his passion for
hot work, serving as a gunner--and within a short space of time Tyler
was in full retreat, and the Confederate cavalry were thundering on
his traces.

It was half-past ten. For nearly five hours the Federals had held
their ground, and two of Jackson's best brigades had been severely
handled. Even if Trimble and Patton had been successful in holding
Fremont back, the Valley soldiers were in no condition for a rapid
march and a vigorous attack, and their commander had long since
recognised that he must rest content with a single victory.

(MAP of the Battle of Cross Keys and Port Republic, June 8th and 9th,
1862.)

Before nine o'clock, about the time of Winder's repulse, finding the
resistance of the enemy more formidable than be had anticipated, he
had recalled his brigades from the opposite bank of the Shenandoah,
and had ordered them to burn the bridge. Trimble and Patton abandoned
the battle-field of the previous day, and fell back to Port Republic.
Hardly a shot was fired during their retreat, and when they took up
their march only a single Federal battery had been seen. Fremont's
advance was cautious in the extreme. He was actually aware that
Shields had two brigades beyond the river, for a scout had reached
him, and from the ground about Mill Creek the sound of Tyler's battle
could be plainly heard. But he could get no direct information of
what was passing. The crest of the Massanuttons, although the sun
shone bright on the cliffs below, was shrouded in haze, completely
forbidding all observation; and it was not till near noon, after a
march of seven miles, which began at dawn and was practically
unopposed, that Fremont