There was nothing on earth we could do to warn them of their danger. Oh! it was a sad, sickening sight, to see them thus unconsciously marching straight into the jaws of death. On, on they go, and nearer and nearer they approach the treacherous fence, behind which they expect to shelter themselves. They are but forty yards from it.
“Can nothing be done for them?” I heard from more than one around me.
No; too late; too late; and the next instant the long line of blue rise from their cover; there is an instant’s pause, and then comes a deafening volley of musketry, and the deadly minnie by hundreds are sent tearing and crashing through the Confederate columns. The slaughter was appalling, and the survivors fled to the rear in the utmost confusion.
But they were avenged; for just then the gallant Griffin, of the Baltimore Light Artillery, espied them, and training the guns of his splendid battery upon the fence, he raked it from one end to the other, sending the enemy flying to a safer position nearer the town.
On the left Jackson was now hotly engaged, whilst, with the exception of his artillery, Ewell is unaccountably idle. Why could he not swing the right of his division around in the rear of the town, thereby enveloping the enemy and cutting off his retreat, whilst he at the same time attacked those who appeared only in front of his left, for there was no enemy on our right, and Jackson was more than a match for those with whom he was contending? No, he is awaiting orders from Jackson, as he afterwards did from Lee at Gettysburg, and the opportunity is lost.
The fog had now entirely disappeared, and on the hill’s side to the left of us were the contending forces of Jackson and Banks engaged in a desperate struggle. For an hour the fight raged, of which we were silent but unwilling spectators. At length Jackson’s reserves reached him, a little late, but in time, taking into consideration their long march from Strasburg that night, and he immediately prepared for a charge. The enemy was also hurrying forward reinforcements to resist the onset he knew was coming.
Dick Taylor’s and three Virginia brigades were thrown into position to make the charge; and it was a grand sight as, with a yell, they moved forward at the double quick.
“I shall wait for orders no longer, but will join in that charge if I live!” exclaimed Colonel Johnson, quickly swinging himself into the saddle. “Forward, double quick,” was the command, and the next instant we were dashing across the country in the direction of the enemy.
Jackson’s right was not more than four hundred yards to the left of us, and therefore Johnson thought by moving diagonally and at a rapid pace we would join him almost at the instant he should strike the enemy.
Steadily, in the face of a deadly fire, the Confederate column advances, leaving in its wake scores of dead and wounded; but never halting, never hesitating, it hurls itself upon the enemy with irresistible fury, rending, tearing, and grinding them to pieces. Closely pursued the survivors fled towards Winchester, and pursued and pursuers entered the town simultaneously. The First Maryland passed down Loudoun street, and, pressing on, capturing prisoners at every step, did not halt until it reached the Taylor Hotel, opposite which we found two large storehouses on fire, filled with medical stores. Colonel Johnson quickly detached a portion of the regiment to suppress the flames, while he at the same time ordered a company to surround and search the hotel for the notorious Dave Strother, or “Porte Crayon,” who a citizen informed us was there. The flames were speedily extinguished, but fortunately for Strother he had been gone about five minutes, or I am inclined to think much of his “Personal Recollections” would have treated of Libby and Belle Isle.