“Colonel Johnson will move the First Maryland to the front with all dispatch, and in conjunction with Wheat’s battalion attack the enemy at Front Royal. The army will halt until you pass.
Jackson.”
“You have heard the order, and I must confess are in a pretty condition to obey it. I will have to return it with the endorsement upon the back that ‘the First Maryland refuses to meet the enemy, though ordered by General Jackson.’ Before this day I was proud to call myself a Marylander, but now, God knows, I would rather be known as anything else. Shame on you to bring this stigma upon the fair fame of your native State—to cause the finger of scorn to be pointed at those who confided to your keeping their most sacred trust—their honor and that of the glorious old State. Marylanders you call yourselves. Profane not that hallowed name again, for it is not yours. What Marylander ever before threw down his arms and deserted his colors in the presence of the enemy, and those arms, and those colors, too, placed in your hands by a woman? Never before has one single blot defaced her honored history. Could it be possible to conceive a crime more atrocious, an outrage more damnable? Go home and publish to the world your infamy. Boast of it when you meet your fathers and mothers, brothers, sisters and sweethearts. Tell them it was you who, when brought face to face with the enemy, proved yourselves recreants, and acknowledged yourselves to be cowards. Tell them this, and see if you are not spurned from their presence like some loathsome leper, and despised, detested, nay, abhorred by those whose confidence you have so shamefully betrayed; you will wander over the face of the earth with the brand of ‘coward,’ ‘traitor,’ indelibly imprinted upon your foreheads, and in the end sink into a dishonored grave, unwept for, uncared for, leaving behind as a heritage to your posterity the scorn and contempt of every honest man and virtuous woman in the land.”
The Colonel’s address, of which I have given the reader but a faint idea, was delivered with much feeling and listened to with close attention, and scarcely had he concluded when a wild yell broke the painful stillness that had prevailed, and a simultaneous rush was made for the ordnance wagon by those to whom he had just administered so scathing a rebuke. Never before, perhaps, had they seized their arms with such avidity, or buckled on their equipments with greater rapidity.
“Now, sir,” they cried out, “lead us against the enemy, and we will prove to you that we are not cowards, and that neither have we forgotten these arms were placed in our hands by a woman.”
“Forward!” was the command, and at the double-quick the regiment passed along the whole army amid the most deafening cheers. “We are going to have some work cut out now, boys, for the Marylanders are going to the front,” could be heard on all sides as we moved along, and every man inwardly determined that work should be cut out if material could be found.
On the right of the army we joined Wheat with his battalion of Louisianians, and with them moved swiftly upon the doomed Federals holding Front Royal. We approached within a mile of the town, but saw no signs of the enemy. “Another disappointment,” ran down the line, but the next moment two or three frightened soldiers in blue broke cover from a picket post, and fled in the direction of the village. They were pursued by several mounted men, and speedily overtaken and brought back. Upon being questioned, they told us that they belonged to the First Maryland, and that the force in town consisted of that regiment, two companies of Pennsylvanians, two pieces of artillery, and a squadron of cavalry, the latter having joined them that very day, all under the command of Colonel John R. Kenly, who did not dream that Jackson was within fifty miles of him. So at last we had met the much boasted Yankee First Maryland, and although greatly outnumbered, we were ready to take up the gage of battle so defiantly thrown down to us some time before. First Maryland against First Maryland! It was, indeed, a singular coincidence.
We approached the town rapidly, and entered the main street before the enemy were aware of our approach. For a minute they resisted our advance, and a sharp exchange of musketry shots ensued. They were quickly driven out, however, with the loss of several in killed, wounded and prisoners.
The whole command had now taken the alarm, and assembled behind their artillery, which was posted on a hill that commanded the town and its approaches. Dashing through the streets, we were soon in the open country, when the companies commanded by Captains Nicholas, Herbert and Goldsborough were deployed as skirmishers, with Wheat on the left, the whole being under the command of Lieutenant Colonel E. R. Dorsey (who had reached that rank by reason of seniority upon the promotion of Elzey and Steuart), whilst Colonel Johnson commanded the reserves.
The enemy now opened his artillery with great precision, and his shell began to tell in our ranks. Nothing daunted, however, the gallant fellows moved steadily forward, and reached the very foot of the hill upon which he was posted. From there the fight was stubbornly waged for at least two hours, with no apparent advantage on either side. In the meantime the troops of Jackson were moving to the right and left to envelop the enemy and cut off his retreat. Kenly saw the movement, and determined to withdraw his forces and cross the river (immediately in his rear) if possible. On his right was the turnpike bridge, and on his left, in our front, was the long and high trestle-work of the Manassas Gap Railroad. Dorsey divined his purpose, and, as the enemy commenced to fall back, immediately ordered a charge along the whole line. With a yell the men responded to the command, and the long line of skirmishers pressed forward in pursuit. The fight would have terminated then and there had not the Louisiana battalion stumbled upon the enemy’s camp, and bent on plunder, the threats and entreaties of their officers were for some time in vain, and when they were at length prevailed upon to move forward, it was found the enemy in their front, with artillery and cavalry, had escaped over the bridge. Not so in front of the Maryland command. The enemy were closely pressed to the river’s bank, where, finding it impossible to escape across the trestle-work, they threw down their arms in a body. By this time a heavy force of cavalry had forded the river some distance below, and charging the remainder of Kenly’s command, which was rapidly retreating up the turnpike, captured it almost to a man, not, however, without meeting with a desperate resistance, in which many were killed and wounded on both sides.