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. 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.