What is it moves by the river,
Jaded and weary and weak,
Gray-backs—a cross on their banner—
Yonder the foe whom they seek.
Silence! They see not, they hear not,
Tarrying there by the marge:
Forward! Draw sabre! Trot! Gallop!
Charge! like a hurricane, charge!
Ah! 'twas a man-trap infernal—
Fire like the deep pit of hell!
Volley on volley to meet them,
Mixed with the gray rebel's yell.
Ninety had ridden to battle,
Tracing the enemy's track,—
Ninety had ridden to battle,
Nine of the ninety came back.
Honor the name of the ninety;
Honor the heroes who came
Scatheless from five hundred muskets,
Safe from the lead-bearing flame.
Eighty and one of the troopers
Lie on the field of the slain—
Lie on the red field of honor:
Honor the nine who remain!
Cold are the dead there, and gory,
There where their life-blood was spilt,
Back come the living, each sabre
Red from the point to the hilt.
Give them three cheers and a tiger!
Let the flags wave as they come!
Give them the blare of the trumpet!
Give them the roll of the drum!
Thomas Dunn English.
Skirmish after skirmish was fought, in one of which, at Harrisonburg, on June 6, 1862, Ashby was killed. But the Confederates succeeded in their object, for McDowell's junction with McClellan was indefinitely delayed.