In other quarters of the battle-field the fighting had been unimportant.  The Confederate guns, although heavily outnumbered, held their ground gallantly for more than five hours; and when they eventually retired it was from want of ammunition rather than from loss of moral.  The waggons which carried their reserve had taken a wrong road, and at the critical moment there were no means of replenishing the supply.  But so timid were Fremont’s tactics that the blunder passed unpunished.  While the battle on the left was raging fiercely he had contented himself elsewhere with tapping feebly at the enemy’s lines.  In the centre of the field his skirmishers moved against Ewell’s batteries, but were routed by a bayonet charge; on the right, Milroy and Schenck, the two generals who had withstood Jackson so stubbornly at M’Dowell, advanced on their own initiative through the woods.  They had driven in the Confederate skirmishers, and had induced Ewell to strengthen this portion of his line from his reserve, when they were recalled by Fremont, alarmed by Trimble’s vigorous attack, to defend the main position.

The Southerners followed slowly.  The day was late, and Ewell, although his troops were eager to crown their victory, was too cool a soldier to yield to their impatience; and, as at Cedar Creek, where also he had driven back the “Dutch” division, so at Cross Keys he rendered the most loyal support to his commander.  Yet he was a dashing fighter, chafing under the restraint of command, and preferring the excitement of the foremost line.  “On two occasions in the Valley,” says General Taylor, “during the temporary absence of Jackson, he summoned me to his side, and immediately rushed forward amongst the skirmishers, where sharp work was going on.  Having refreshed himself, he returned with the hope that “Old Jack would not catch him at it.""* (Destruction and Reconstruction, page 39.)

How thoroughly Jackson trusted his subordinate may be inferred from the fact that, although present on the field, he left Ewell to fight his own battle.  The only instructions he gave showed that he had fathomed the temper of Fremont’s troops.  “Let the Federals,” he said, “get very close before your infantry fire; they won’t stand long.”  It was to Ewell’s dispositions, his wise use of his reserves, and to Trimble’s ready initiative, that Fremont’s defeat was due.  Beyond sending up a couple of brigades from Port Republic, Jackson gave no orders.  His ambition was of too lofty a kind to appropriate the honours which another might fairly claim; and, when once battle had been joined, interference with the plan on which it was being fought did not commend itself to him as sound generalship.  He was not one of those suspicious commanders who believe that no subordinate can act intelligently.  If he demanded the strictest compliance with his instructions, he was always content to leave their execution to the judgment of his generals; and with supreme confidence