The Maryland Line in the Confederate States Army - W. W. Goldsborough

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ascertain our destination; but, to our utter amazement, when we turned our faces to where we had passed his army the evening previous, nothing met our gaze but the smouldering embers of his deserted camp-fires. We rubbed our eyes and looked again and again, loth to believe our sense of vision. But gone he was, and whither and for what no one could tell. Quietly, in the dead of night, he had arisen from his blanket, and calling his troops around him, with them had disappeared.

      For more than two weeks his whereabouts remained a mystery, and various were the conjectures as to what had become of him, when one day there came the news of Milroy’s defeat at McDowell, more than one hundred miles away. Swiftly he had traversed the steep ranges of mountains that separated him from his prey, and with irresistible fury had hurled his legions upon the astonished foe in his mountain fastness and routed him with heavy loss, and was even now on his return, and within two days’ march of us. General Ewell was ordered to join him at once near Luray, and on the 16th of May we encamped at Columbia Bridge on our way thither.

      It was the next day that the term of enlistment of Company C, First Maryland, expired, and the men clamored for an immediate discharge, which, under the circumstances, was reluctantly given by Colonel Bradley T. Johnson, who had succeeded to the command by the promotion of Colonel Steuart to the rank of brigadier general, and ordered to organize the Maryland Line. And here again the discontent that had prevailed at Manassas among the men enlisted for the war broke out afresh. They declared they had enlisted for twelve months only, and that if the muster rolls had it otherwise they had been grossly deceived by their officers. The dissatisfaction grew more apparent every hour, and when, on the 18th day of May, we marched to join General Jackson, the men were almost in a state of mutiny.

      It was on the banks of the Shenandoah, the 21st of May, that we first caught sight of the glorious soldier as he dashed along the lines with hat off, and bowing right and left in acknowledgment of the vociferous cheers that went up from his enthusiastic army.

      Our camp that night was within a mile of Luray, and here we were destined to part with the gallant Elzey, who had so long commanded us, and who had led us to our first victory. As I have said, Colonel Steuart had been promoted and ordered to organize and command the Maryland Line, of which the First Maryland and Baltimore Light Artillery were to form the nucleus. For the present, however, Colonel Johnson was in command, as General Steuart had been temporarily assigned to a brigade of cavalry. Never shall I forget General Elzey’s emotion as he drew the regiment up in line for the last time, and with tears rolling down his war-worn cheeks, thanked them for the honor they had helped to confer upon him at Manassas.

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      On the evening of the 22d, the army, about twelve thousand strong, went into camp within an easy day’s march of Front Royal, where, rumor had it, was stationed a considerable force of the enemy. Here the dissatisfaction that had so long existed in the First Maryland broke out into open mutiny, and the majority of the men in the war companies threw down their arms and demanded an immediate discharge. It was in vain that General Steuart and Colonel Johnson expostulated with them upon their disgraceful conduct, but they declared they had served out their term of enlistment, and would serve no longer, and when next morning we resumed our march, nearly one-half the regiment was disarmed and under guard. The affair was kept concealed from General Jackson, as it was still hoped the men would return to reason, for it was not calculated to impress him very favorably with the troops from whom he expected so much.

      Brig. Gen. GEO. H. STEUART.

      A halt was made about five miles from Front Royal, and whilst resting ourselves by the wayside, an aid-de-camp was observed to dash up to Colonel Johnson and hand him a dispatch. It took him but an instant to acquaint himself with its contents, when, turning to his command, in a voice tremulous with suppressed anger and with a face flushed with mortification and shame, called it to “attention.”

      “I have just received an order from General Jackson that very nearly concerns yourselves,” he said, “and I will read it to you:”

      “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

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