March 16 — At twelve o’clock last night an alarm reached us that the pickets were fighting near Middletown, two miles from our camp. We were ordered to get ready to march at a moment’s notice. The alarm was false, and we remained at an old house till day, but did not unroll our blankets nor sleep the remainder of the night. Early this morning crossed Cedar Creek, which is the boundary between Frederick and Shenandoah, and moved about two miles up the pike from the creek bridge and camped. The enemy did not advance farther than Newtown yesterday.
Three Years in the Confederate Horse Artillery — George Michael Neese.
March 15 — This morning the enemy advanced with cavalry and artillery. We put our battery in position at our camp on a hill half a mile above Newtown. We fired some eight or ten rounds; then fell back to Cedar Creek. Quartered in an old house on the hillside near Cedar Creek bridge.
March 14 — Went on picket at same post as yesterday.
March 13 — Went on picket this morning two miles below Newtown. All quiet in front. Returned to camp this evening.
March 12 — We left Bartonsville at eight this morning and moved slowly up the pike to a hill half a mile south of Newtown, where we are still camped this evening. To-day we had a little panic in camp, which came very near bordering on a stampede among the wagoners. Cavalrymen and some of the artillery were mixed in it too, Company Q in general. It was caused by a hasty report from the front that the Yankees were rapidly advancing in force and that they were already near our camp. The alarm was partly false, however. A Yankee scouting party drove our pickets in and approached to within one mile of our camp, and would undoubtedly have come nearer but the ever watchful and gallant Ashby at the head of his troopers with drawn sabers charged them and drove them back to Kernstown.
Some of our cavalrymen captured a drummer boy and brought him to camp. It is something unusual to find a drummer so far away from the infantry. It looks a little as if he was operating with the cavalry, either trying to deceive somebody or else the Yanks think that Ashby’s men are as easily frightened as old women. If they think the latter, they will learn something beneficial to their well-being before they get two months older.
Colonel Ashby is a splendid horseman, and as I looked at him to-day when he started to charge at the head of his column, riding superbly, with drawn saber flashing in the sunlight, and his long jetty beard floating in the wind like wavy silk as he dashed by, he was a striking representation of a princely knight of the Middle Ages, and the sight made me feel a little fightish myself.
March 11—At ten o’clock this morning we heard that the Yankees were advancing in force. We received orders to move toward Winchester, to go within one mile of town and await further orders. Immediately after we arrived within a mile of town we were ordered to return down the pike, to check the enemy’s advance guard. We went about two miles below town and put one gun [the howitzer] in position, and awaited the approach of the Yanks. Our first position was nearly two miles in advance of Jackson’s army, which was then near Winchester.
We did not have to wait long before we saw the enemy, an immense force steadily advancing on the Martinsburg road, and a column of infantry with waving banners winding along the hillsides west of the pike, like some huge shiny snake in a coat of mail, reflecting the bright afternoon sunlight that flashed with shattered splendor from thousands of glittering muskets and burnished trappings. The magnificent splendor of the scene was truly fascinating, yet danger lurked in the approaching panoramic sheen.
The cavalry was in front in solid column, which once or twice threw out bodies of skirmishers that scoured the woods and fields on their left. The infantry marched in splendid order in columns of four, close in rear of the cavalry. Now and then I saw little bunches of white smoke rising from their line of sharpshooters as they sped their bullets at some daring Rebel cavalrymen that ventured too near the coming warish anaconda.
They advanced cautiously and slowly. As soon as their cavalry came within range of our gun we fired two shell at them, then fell back to the fair ground, taking a position which we held till after dark. It was nearly sunset when we arrived at the fair ground, and just as the sun was sinking behind the hills Jackson’s men began to move in various maneuvers, marching and counter-marching around the fair ground and through the fields at the north end of Winchester.
When the twilight began to grow into dusk I saw some of the infantry regiments march into the breastworks on the hill west of town. We remained at the fair ground with our guns in battery ready for action at a moment’s warning until some time after dark. Then, all being quiet in our front, we retired slowly through the silent streets that were soon to echo the martial tread of the invaders. We fell back to Milltown Mills on the Valley pike, and remained until midnight, then retired to Bartonsville. From all appearances Winchester is evacuated, and will be occupied by the enemy to-morrow morning.
Jackson’s forces are retreating up the Valley. Their camp-fires are blazing all along the pike south of Kernstown by Bartonsville and toward Newtown.
It is now nearly two hours after midnight, and the air is cold and chilly. A few moments ago I saw General Jackson bending over a dying camp-fire by the roadside warming his hands. After standing there a while apparently in deep meditation, and as silent as the glow that was playing over the embers, he drew his faded cap closer over his brow, mounted his horse, and rode slowly away toward Newtown.
Here at Bartonsville, which is six miles from Winchester, we, at two o’clock in the morning, wrapped our blankets around us, weary and fatigued, and dropped on the bosom of Mother Earth to snatch a few hours of balmy sleep.
March 8 — To-day we moved four miles below Winchester, on the Martinsburg pike. Quartered in a house.
March 7 — About three o’clock this afternoon we heard the boom of a cannon in the direction of Bunker’s Hill. Events of a startling character are crowding around the threshold of the near future. Little before sunset we got orders to march out on the Martinsburg road, as the Yankees were advancing on Winchester, and that their advance guard was within five miles of town; but before we proceeded far on the Martinsburg road we learned that Ashby’s Cavalry met and repulsed the enemy’s advance guard and drove it back to Bunker’s Hill. Jackson’s men were out under marching orders, standing in ranks, ready for fight at a moment’s notice. We returned to our camp on the Berryville road after dark. Our tents are folded and on the wagon, consequently we are camping to-night without shelter. The cannon we heard to-day were some of Pendleton’s battery firing at the enemy down on the Martinsburg road.
March 6 — We moved from our quarters south of the Berryville road to a woods north of the road. All is quiet, but from various indications, and from our short movements from pike to pike, first to the Berryville pike and then to the Martinsburg road, forebodes that all is not well.
A private in the rear rank has very little opportunity of knowing or learning anything concerning the movements or strength of an approaching enemy, but I have a sort of unexplainable intuition that the Yanks are advancing on Winchester with a heavy force, and that within the next few days we will see either a fight or a fall-back.
March 2 — To-day we moved back again to the same place on the Berryville road where we moved from yesterday evening. Snowed all day.
