EXPEDITION TO GOLDSBORO--SKIRMISHING--SOUTHWEST CREEK--BATTLES
OF KINSTON, WHITEHALL, AND GOLDSBORO--INCIDENTS--RETURN
OF THE EXPEDITION TO NEWBERN--THE 17TH RELIEVED BY
THE 45TH IN NEWBERN--ACROSS THE TRENT--BUILDING
FORTS--SICKNESS--BEAUFORT--AN ACCOUNT OF THE FREEDMEN, ETC.,
ETC.
The indulgent reader, who has accompanied me thus far in my
peregrinations through Dixie, need not be alarmed, upon looking at
the caption of this page, at the prospect of being bored with so
many dry, solid pages as he has waded through in the first part of
this work. I have prepared this literary feast, if not of the best
materials (and I have no better, I assure you), at least after the
most approved style of French cookery, and, therefore, have kept back
the best dishes to the last. It is in this second part of my humble
work, that I hope to give the most stirring (I might say thrilling)
and interesting part of my narrative of
"Moving accidents by flood and field,"--
and, if I do not succeed to my own satisfaction, I hope, at least, to
give satisfaction to my patrons. This done, I can pocket the profits
with a clear conscience.
In November, 1862, when the nine-months troops had about all arrived,
the work of brigading them with the old regiments, and drilling them
in field movements, was undertaken and vigorously prosecuted.
Preparations on a scale of considerable magnitude for a large
expedition had been going on for some time; but to what point it was
destined was wisely kept a secret, though it was generally understood
to have some connection with the movement of Burnside in Virginia.
On the 8th of December, the war-worn veterans of General Wessells'
brigade (of Gen. Peck's division) arrived in Newbern, and
preparations for the expedition were hastily completed. The same
evening, at dress parade, an order was read from Gen. Foster to all
the regiments, to be ready to march in thirty-six hours in light
marching order, viz.: without knapsacks, carrying only blankets
and overcoats, with three days cooked rations to be carried in
haversacks, seven days' to be conveyed in wagons.
The following day was a busy one for the quartermasters of the
Subsistence Department, and the cooks. In the evening the guards were
withdrawn, and the 8th Mass. regiment, which had not yet been fully
provided with arms and equipments, took charge of the city, and sent
out details of men to patrol the streets.
This was a busy night for us all. Like sailors before a storm, we had
to make snug our tackle, and spread only as much sail as we thought
the ship could conveniently carry. Everything in the shape of spare
clothes and blankets were snugly packed in our knapsacks; and, when
the final order came for us to be in line at three o'clock in the
morning, we were ready at the moment to start. But we visited Billy
Patterson, and each man proceeded to stow away into his haversack
what he judged would be sufficient to subsist him for three days. We
then turned in, to gain a little repose and freshen our energies
against the morrow.
At three o'clock on the morning of Thursday, Dec. 11, 1862, we were
awakened by the bugle call, and after a hasty meal, formed in the
yard of our quarters, and proceeded to the place of rendezvous for
the regiment on ---- street. A gray, frosty mist enveloped the city,
which was alive with marching men, horse, foot, and artillery, and
forage and ambulance trains. As early as was the hour, however, the
whole population--especially the negro portion--seemed abroad in the
streets, and many a fervent prayer and good wish for our success were
showered upon us by the poor negro women as we passed along.
"Oh," exclaimed one, "I know de Lord am walkin' alongside ob you, and
you will beat de rebs, I knows--I knows!"
"Aunty," sang out a soldier from the ranks, "if I don't come back
you'll never get paid for them clothes you washed for me."
"Nebber mind de close, honey," exclaimed the generous old woman;
and then, changing her tone, she continued, as if to herself--"Oh,
Lord!--de Lord!--Oh good Lord!--Nebber come back!--Oh, de poor
sojer!--Lord, help de poor sojer! Amen for de poor sojer!--Amen!
Glory!"
We halted on the Trent road, just beyond Fort Totten, and awaited the
movement of the various bodies of troops that were to precede us.
The morning broke clear and cool, and beheld a fine array of
infantry, cavalry, and artillery taking up their line of march by the
Trent road from Newbern. The sight was magnificent as the long lines
of infantry with their polished arms, and the cavalry and artillery,
slowly but cheerfully took up their line of march, with an elasticity
of step and a merry hum of voices that unmistakeably showed how
high the spirits and expectations of all were aroused, and that it
required only an able general to lead such an army on from victory to
victory.
As we advanced into the country the evidences of former strife
everywhere met the eye, in the desolated plantations, houses burned
to the ground or partially destroyed, and an air of ruin and
desolation pervading all.
After a tedious, plodding and plunging march of about fourteen miles,
the army bivouacked for the night on a plantation which seemed more
fortunate than many others we passed. But its time had come; and as
regiment after regiment arrived and stacked arms, it was a curious
study to watch the rush they made for the nearest fence, the eager
scramble for rails, and the disappearance of the fences, as if by
magic. As night darkened over the scene, the countless bivouac fires
rose in all directions, casting a lurid glare up to the sky, and
forming about as picturesque a scene as could possibly be imagined.
And the sound of voices and laughter, and the neighing of horses and
unearthly braying of mules, all combined to render that (my first)
bivouac a something to be remembered forever.
Beyond where we encamped Thursday evening, the rebels having notice
of our approach, blockaded the road for two miles, by felling trees
across; but the pioneers set about removing them during the night,
and when the army resumed its march in the morning the way was
cleared, and we passed on 'into the bowels of the land.'
About 10 A.M., on Friday, a skirmish occurred near Trenton, between
our advanced guard of cavalry and some rebel cavalry and infantry, in
which the latter were routed with the loss of three or four killed
and several wounded and taken prisoners.
Our advance reached Southwest Creek about noon on Saturday, and
the enemy, about 2,000 strong, were posted beyond, with a battery
commanding the road.
The 9th New Jersey and Morrison's battery were sent forward to feel
their position, and a smart cannonade of some two hours' duration
took place, when the 9th New Jersey made a detour through the woods
and captured the battery, putting the rebels to flight. They made
another stand about four miles this side of Kinston, when the same
force pushed after them and engaged them for about half an hour, when
the rebels again fell back.
While the skirmish was going on, the troops, as they arrived, were
assigned their places in line of battle, almost parallel with the
road. Towards evening, the regiments bivouacked in the same position
they had taken when expecting the assault of the enemy. We were
pretty hungry by this time, you may depend, not having, some of us,
tasted food for nearly two days. When orders were given to stack
arms, there was a general rush for rails, but some of the boys, while
seeking out the latter, came across some luckless porkers, which bit
the dust, were skinned, and their still quivering flesh subjected to
a barely warming process, ere it was devoured by the half-famished
soldiers. I fell in for a stray piece, and computed that the flesh I
was then devouring, had fifteen minutes before formed a portion of
an animate pig, careless of sorrow, and only seeking some innocent
pieces of garbage or succulent root wherewith to tickle his palate
and satisfy the cravings of hunger. How rapid are transmutations,
sometimes! Little did that pig dream that on the morrow he would
stimulate the nerves of many a soldier in the defeat of rebels
and the capture of Kinston. But so it was; and this curious fact
might lead me, if I were given to abstract reasoning, to trace this
influence of forces by the abundance of pork. But no; for me are
plainer and perhaps more demonstrative revelations.
There was a house in our front about one fourth of a mile distant,
whither some of our lads found their way, and soon all the available
beds and bedding which the frightened inmates left behind were
confiscated and appropriated by the tired soldiers. The pig did
not satisfy me. I was too fond of vegetables to be satisfied with
flesh, and, accordingly, set out at the first opportunity in search
of sweet potatoes. Espying a house upon a rising ground, about a mile
to the right of our encampment, I made for it; but night came down
just as I was starting, and I was compelled, as it were, to grope my
way through a rice-field or swamp that intervened, where I met many
a ditch and slough, some of which I avoided, and some I fell into.
But, nothing daunted, I held on, and drew near the house, when I
beheld in the darkness the dim outlines of a man in my path, of what
description--union soldier or guerilla, friend or foe--I could not
make out. Not being in the mood to stand upon ceremony, I accosted
him as I approached (he proved to be a friend), inquiring if he knew
of any deposit of sweet potatoes in that region. Returning a cavalry
pistol to his belt with which he had covered me on my approach, he
directed me to where I could find what I desired: and it may be
inferred that I was not slow in availing myself of the opportunity
afforded, and soon set out on my return loaded with sweet potatoes. I
had almost cleared the swamp, and was approaching the camp-guard of
one of our batteries--in fact I was almost upon the guard--without
being perceived, when plump! down I went into an undiscovered ditch
or drain, frightening myself as well as the guard, who brought his
piece down to the 'charge,' expecting he had some atrocious guerilla
on hand. I soon explained matters to his satisfaction, however, and
went on my way rejoicing. My success awakened the hungry ones of Co.
K, and the officer in command, appreciating the necessity of the men
having a good supper, sent half-a-dozen along with me to the scene of
my discoveries. I was a willing guide, and we soon returned with an
abundance of provisions, and made a hearty supper upon the plunder.
We slept well, and awoke next (Sunday) morning refreshed, and ready
for the road and the fight.
On Sunday morning the 14th, we resumed our march on Kinston. From
the place where we encamped, a steep hill descended, and the road
wound through a low, swampy ground for about two miles, when we
came out upon higher land, where our advanced guard (the 9th New
Jersey and Wessells' brigade) had bivouacked for the night. The
advance was already in motion, and our regiment followed. In the
low grounds of Southwest Creek, we saw the evidences of yesterday's
strife--two cannon captured, and a few dead rebels. When we passed
the low lands, we saw abundant evidences of hasty preparation for
resisting our advance; but, I suppose, as a very considerable body
of the enemy--who expected us on the other road where they were very
strongly fortified--could not be got up in time, Evans thought it
prudent to abandon them. We had not proceeded far, however, when the
crack of musketry told us that our advance was driving in the enemy's
pickets; and soon, as we shortened the distance between us and the
scene of the coming battle, the more regular and deliberate volleys
of small arms announced that the ball had opened in earnest. Soon the
artillery came galloping up, and took position, just as we reached
the wood skirting the battle field. We were halted, and ordered on to
the right of the road to support a battery.
The enemy were advantageously posted in a swamp, and on a rising
ground beyond, about a mile from the bridge leading across the river
to Kinston.
The action, which was commenced by our advance in the morning, was
sustained with vigor, until the main body of our forces came up, when
the battle became more earnest and terrible, and, as battery after
battery arrived in position, and opened its fire on the enemy, the
ground fairly shook with their repeated reverberations, while the
sharp roll of musketry--whole battalions delivering their fire at
once--filled up the intervals. The rebel position was well chosen,
under cover of a dense undergrowth of wood, their foreground
protected by groves of pines, which, however, offered no impediment
to our artillery, which mowed them down like grass.
I stated that the 17th were ordered to the right to support a
battery. As we marched in to take our position, the officer in
command of the battery, asked--
"What regiment is that?"
"The 17th Massachusetts," was the reply.
"All right, boys," said the officer, and turning to his men, he
remarked, "I'm glad they didn't send me one of those d--d nine months
regiments."
We stood a few minutes in the position we had first taken, the cannon
booming away like thunder, and the bullets began to p-e-e-w athwart
our line, quite lively--hurting nobody however--when the artillery
officer, who was on horseback, said--
"Here they come--the devils are on us!"
We could see the flash of bayonets at the edge of the wood, and fully
expected a charge. Our Colonel ordered the men to fall back a few
yards to a fence, unsling their blankets, and fix bayonets. This was
done in less time than it takes me to record it, and we waited with
anxiety the onset of the rebels.
Here, for the first time, was I brought into a position that required
courage and resolution; but though I felt determined to 'do or die,'
a strange feeling came over me, and if I was not really frightened,
the feeling was marvelously like fear. I suppose every man who first
goes into action is troubled with a sensation something akin to that
which I felt at this time; but, like every new sensation, it soon
wears off, and the experience of the actual dangers of conflict
serves to obliterate all such qualms, and leaves the individual in
the full enjoyment of a reckless indifference to what may betide, and
an implicit confidence in that fate which may be the preservation or
destruction of his dear life.
While we were in position awaiting the onset of the enemy, an
incident occurred, which showed how serene men will look upon others
going into the same danger they are in themselves.
A negro teamster, with his ammunition cart, was ordered further on,
to supply another battery on our right whose caissons were running
low of ammunition. The poor fellow thought he was going to his death,
and if ever mortal fear displayed itself upon the countenance of
any human being, it was upon that poor darky's face. I shall never
forget the wild rolling of his eyes, nor the frenzied and agonized
expression of his face, as he hesitatingly guided his team in front
of our regiment, urged on by our men with such encouraging remarks
as--
"Go it nig; don't be afraid!" "You're a goner, old darky,--good bye!"
"Won't the rebs chaw him up?" &c.
We waited some time for the rebels to appear, but they came not. In
the meantime, the battery we were supporting was ripping up the woods
in front in fine style--at every discharge cracking off the pine
trees as it they had been pipe stems.
At length an order came for us to proceed further down to the right,
where the 9th New Jersey and a battery had preceded us, and here we
crossed a swamp, and turned the enemy's right.
We were to push on; but our Lt. Colonel, not, perhaps, understanding
the order fully, halted us in a cleared field beyond the swamp, and
ordered us to lay down. The 9th New Jersey were off in the woods to
our right, and when I first beheld them I took them for rebels. From
the position occupied, we could see the long line of intrenchments
in our front; but we did not suppose a river intervened, which was
the case. During the movements just recorded, the firing had been
rapid and tremendous, and, from the cheers of our men, we could
clearly infer that the rebels were giving way. Then was the golden
opportunity for us--for, had we then advanced as we did afterwards,
instead of taking a few hundred prisoners, we should have captured
an entire brigade--but it was lost. Col. Amory coming up soon after,
said--
"Why do you stay here? Forward, as quick as you can!"
The regiment rose like one man, and, on the order being given to go
forward at the double quick, rushed down with a yell. As we neared
the bridge, we beheld a rout--an almost indescribable body of men
running for their lives. All discipline seemed lost, and casting
aside guns, equipments and clothing, and, in fact, whatever might
retard their flight, they fled like a herd of frightened deer, while
close upon their heels came on the charging columns of our men. It
was a magnificent, and yet it was a pitiable sight. As intimated
before, we succeeded in bagging a goodly number; but the bridge being
set on fire, we were forced to give over the pursuit until the flames
were extinguished.
While laying down in the field, I observed a substantial looking
two-story house in our front, and near the bridge, a large portion of
the rear of which had been shattered by a shell, evidently the work
of the enemy. I found this the case when we halted near the bridge,
from which position I could observe that the missile had entered
the roof of the piazza, went clean through the house, bursting as
it was penetrating the rear wall, and making the havoc described.
Standing upon the piazza, the picture of anguish and despair, were
two women, who seemed watching the rout of their army with a terrible
and heart-sick interest, perfectly heedless of the missiles of death
flying around thick and fast. Some of our officers, taking pity upon
the poor women, and solicitous lest the exposure should endanger
their lives, approached, and advised them to retire to a place of
safety. But they resolutely refused to stir from their dangerous
position. Doubtless, they had friends near and dear to them in the
fight, and anxiety for the fate of those loved ones made them forget
the natural timidity of their sex, and thus risk their lives.
It has been often stated that the women of the South did more to
drive the men to take up arms against the Government than the
politicians. If this be so--and my experience makes me think it
probable--then they have most surely reaped in the whirlwind of
desolation which has burst upon their hitherto peaceful homes the
most bitter fruits of the wind of treason they have sown. To them,
unlike the women of the North, the fields of strife are not afar
off, and they do not have to weep for their braves fallen in the
distant battle-field. The clouds of strife gather and burst about
their homes. They see their fields laid waste,--their towns and
villages made the abode of desolation and anguish. They behold
their sons, brothers, fathers, and friends stricken down by the
hand of war before their eyes. Danger lurks forever at their doors.
Famine--gaunt, ghastly, insatiate--forever hovers in their future,
like a bird of ill omen. They are forced to many a weary struggle
to provide the necessaries of life for their helpless, and too
frequently, alas! fatherless children. Like the first of their sex,
they incited disobedience, and now they find their paradise changed
to an abode of wretchedness and misery, and are compelled, in tears
and wretchedness to eat the bitter fruit of their crime. I have seen
the widowed wife and orphan children standing pale, motionless and
horror-struck over the dead body of the husband and father, and, with
glassy eyes look upon the passing array of their foes, fierce and
triumphant in the 'pomp and circumstance of war;' and I have thought
what a pity that even so great an offence should have so terrible a
punishment. But 'those whom the gods wish to destroy they first make
mad.'
The attack on Kinston was planned and carried out by Gen. Wessells,
and, though the fight was more severe, and of much longer duration
than the battle of Newbern, a difficult position was carried with
comparatively small loss--(about 100 killed and 400 wounded).
The rebels had chosen their position, as before stated, upon a slight
elevation beyond a swamp, and on both sides of the Kinston road.
Their left was protected by a church and a growth of scrub oaks, and
their right by a grove of large trees, their front and both flanks
being pretty well protected by a swamp, difficult to cross, and
densely covered with a growth of small trees and pines.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF KINSTON]
The brigade of Gen. Wessells opened the ball in fine style, driving
in the rebel advance, and alone sustained the onset of the rebels,
until the brigades commanded by Cols. Amory, Heckman, and Stevenson
got into position, when they formed the left wing of our line of
battle--Stevenson and Heckman the centre, and Amory the right.
Gen. Evans commanded the rebel army, which consisted of over five
brigades of about 15,000 men, including a brigade of home-guards
from Raleigh. The other troops were mainly from South Carolina,
Georgia and Mississippi. Evans disposed his men in a skilful manner
upon and behind the rising ground he had chosen for the battle-field,
and had several batteries so disposed as to command the approaches by
the road in front, and his left flank, which, however, was his weak
spot. The fire of the rebels upon our attacking columns was rapid
and well-directed, and did great havoc among them; but our line kept
steadily though slowly, from the nature of the ground, advancing upon
them, and, after a severe contest of over five and a half hours, and
just as the 17th and 9th New Jersey had succeeded in turning their
left, an impetuous charge was made, and the day was ours.
We halted in a field, and were ordered to lay down, our left resting
on the river. The few remaining rebels on the other side kept up a
desultory but sharp fire upon our men and the 9th New Jersey in our
front.
Orders to fire had not been given, and we had to lay quietly and
forego many a good opportunity of picking off a stray rebel. But
human nature could not stand such inaction always, and many a sly
shot was planted upon the opposite bank, sometimes with excellent
effect. I had my eye upon a rebel who kept firing from behind a tree,
and seemed particularly active in picking off our men, and suddenly
formed the resolve to shoot him if I possibly could. Slipping quietly
to the rear, I made quick time for the left of our line on the river
bank. Just as I arrived, I found one of Co. K's men, named Kendrick,
in the act of firing, and on looking across to see the result of
his shot, saw a huge porker jump into the air as if struck. Sam
fixed that fellow's hash for him, and it afterwards became a common
saying--"Who killed that pig?--Sam Kendrick." But my man, who was
behind a tree, abandoned his shelter and made off just as I had got
my battery into position. I fired, and, throwing up his arms, he
fell forward on his face. Feeling like a prize-fighter, who had drawn
his 'first blood,' I leisurely returned to my place in the ranks,
reloading my piece as I went along, when I was accosted by Capt. Day,
who was acting Major--
"You have been firing without orders."
"Yes, sir."
"What name?"