m like a hurricane.
Separated from his command, but bursting with an ardour which defied control, he charged, by himself, about five hundred Federal horsemen retreating in disorder, snatched a guidon from the hands of its bearer, and firing right and left into the column, summoned the men to surrender.
Many did so, and the rest galloped on, followed by Ashby, to Winchester, where he threw the guidon, with a laugh, to a friend, who afterwards had it hung up in the Library of the Capitol at Richmond.
The work of Ashby then began in earnest.
The affair with General Banks was only a skirmish — the wars of the giants followed.
Jackson, nearly hemmed in by bitter and determined foes, fell back to escape destruction, and on his track rushed the heavy columns of Shields and Fremont, which, closing in at Strasburg and Front Royal, were now hunting down the lion.
It was then and there that Ashby won his fame as a cavalry officer, and attached to every foot of ground over which