In obedience to the orders of Banks the town had been set on fire in several places, and men and women were rushing frantically through the streets appealing to the troops to save them from the dreadful calamity that seemed so imminent. Their appeals were not in vain; and in a short time the flames were everywhere extinguished, except near the depot, where several large warehouses had been fired, and which were totally consumed with their contents. Had the troops of Jackson been one half hour later this ancient and once thriving town would have been only a mass of smouldering ruins.
The defeat of the enemy was complete; but owing to the apathy of Ewell and the wretched disposition of our cavalry very many of them effected their escape, carrying with them most of their artillery and a large wagon train. As it was, however, we captured an immense amount of stores of every description, and about four thousand prisoners.
The joy of the citizens of Winchester at once more having the protection of the Confederate troops, knew no bounds, and as we filed through the streets in pursuit of the enemy, provisions and delicacies in abundance were lavished upon us, while more than one of our young fellows came in for an earnest embrace from the matron of some well-grown household. Indeed, Colonel Johnson himself received one of these favors. Now, the Colonel was regarded one of the handsomest men in the First Maryland, and having dismounted from his horse in an unguarded moment, was espied and singled out by an old lady of Amazonian proportions, just from the wash tub, who, wiping her hands and mouth on her apron as she approached, seized him around the neck with the hug of a bruin, and bestowed upon him half a dozen kisses that were heard by nearly every man in the command; and when at length she relaxed her hold the Colonel looked as though he had just come out of a vapor bath.
“How do you like that, Colonel?” I heard Captain Willie Nicholas ask, who, convulsed with laughter, had been watching the performance.
Drawing forth his handkerchief and wiping from his face the profuse perspiration that covered it, the Colonel replied:
“I shouldn’t have cared; but, d—— it, she smells so strong of rosin soap, and I never could bear the stuff.”
That night the First Maryland went into camp close by the Winchester and Martinsburg turnpike, and about four miles from the former town. Upon the call of the roll but one man was found missing, Lieutenant Colonel Dorsey, who had been severely wounded through the right shoulder after entering the town.
On the morning of the 26th orders were received to move to Martinsburg, and there collect the large amount of stores abandoned by the enemy. Two or three days were consumed in this duty, after which we rejoined the main body of the army, encamped near Charlestown.
General Jackson’s movements since the battle of Winchester had much puzzled his troops, and entirely confounded the enemy.
“Surely,” we reasoned, “he is not going to cross over into Maryland with the handful of men under his command, for McDowell would quickly compel him to return, and then it would be too late to escape Fremont, who will certainly come down from West Virginia with his army of twenty-five thousand men.”