ON THE MARCH.
The first tap of the drum at early morn of the eleventh instant,
aroused us with that faint consciousness of something important
before us, with which the sleeper always wakens on the day of some
long-expected event. The last preparations were gone through, blankets
rolled, canteens filled and lost straps found, while hurry and
confusion reigned supreme in the various quarters.
At last, everything was in readiness, and as the impatient drums
sounded the assembly call, we marched out on the parade-ground as if
for a review. The line was formed, with the pioneers in advance, and
with band playing and colors flying, the 45th started on its first
expedition, their hearts beating high with hope and enthusiasm. On
every side of us trooped our contraband camp followers, laden down with
all manner of strange things, such as the ingenuity of an inexperienced
officer's mind could suggest as likely to contribute to his wants and
comfort, from a cooking-stove to a shoe-brush. The two miles of sandy
road which lay between the camp and the town, served in a measure to
dampen the ardor of some of the more demonstrative ones, and more than
one armor vest, which the kind but injudicious care of friends had
provided, was left to rest by the wayside before the end of those first
two miles.
On reaching the city we found the streets crowded with troops of every
description, infantry, cavalry and artillery, massed together in almost
endless confusion. But after two or three hours delay, the different
commanders began to find their proper positions in the line of march,
and about eleven o'clock of the eleventh of December, the long column
moved forward.
Past Fort Totten, out on the Trent road, the line for a short time
presented an orderly appearance. But soon there was a bridge to cross,
a great puddle to pick your way around or go splashing through, as
inclination directed; then a stream, whose bridge was a log on one
side, admitting only of single file, the water, yellow and dirty,
looking suspiciously deep for wading. The unfortunates in the rear had
to make up for these delays by frequent double-quick, until at length
all distinction, not merely of regiments but also of companies, had
disappeared. The march subsided into a mere race between individuals,
all making for some unknown object ahead, at the highest rate of speed.
On! On! Will the column never halt, or have the advance suddenly become
possessed of cork legs, which like those in the song, will never stop,
thought the poor fellows on this first morning of their march, when
those fell enemies of the soldier, sore feet, lame backs and aching
limbs, became clamorous for their victims.
At last, came the halt for dinner, and most of us experienced a full
realization of the blessedness of rest, while our hard-tack and coffee
was like the milk and honey to the Jews. But time and our leaders are
inexorable, and already the lengthening shadows reprove delay, so once
more the hurrying, tearing pace begins. But now our colonel has made a
wise rule, that on passing any obstacle tending to delay the rear, the
head of the regiment shall halt until the last company has passed. This
prevents the recurrence of intervals so disheartening for those in the
rear to see opening before them, and requiring an extra effort to make
up the lost space.
We had little leisure that first day to examine the country about
us, but every now and then a deserted house, the forlorn, desolate
appearance of those still occupied, and the looks of the miserable,
half-starved creatures, who, with undisguised hatred in their eyes,
stood gazing on the moving tide of Yankee soldiery, gave but too good
evidence that the iron hand of war had been laid very heavily upon this
people. Truly, they were suffering for the sins of their leaders, and
their hatred of the Northern troops was not to be wondered at, when
they slaughtered their cattle, seized their horses, plundered their
poultry yards, and even entered their houses and snatched the food from
their mouths, without so much as a "by your leave."
Our progress became slower as evening drew near, and several times the
column was obliged to halt to allow time for the rebuilding of bridges
which were destroyed by the enemy on our approach. Darkness soon
enveloped us, but the weary train still pressed on. At last, however,
our hearts were gladdened by the distant gleam of light flashing in the
horizon, for we soon learned that it was caused by the fires of our
advance guard.
Our burden grew lighter as we hurried forward, refreshed by the sight,
and when at last, descending a hill, we emerged from the woods which
skirted its brow, a scene burst upon our startled vision which, in its
picturesque beauty, almost repaid us for the long and weary way we had
traversed before reaching it.
A large field, stretching for nearly a mile to the left of the road,
was streaked with long rows of fires, made of dry pitch-pine rails,
and as the figures flitted about midst the fires, weird shadows were
thrown against the black woods and sky beyond. It seemed like a glimpse
into some other world, and when our regiment, and the many others in
the rear, reached the fairy spot, and added their fires to the grand
illumination, the heavens became red with flame.
Most of us were through with work for that night, and had no harder
task to perform than to collect a few rails, boil some coffee, and
after supper make ourselves comfortable for the night. But all were not
so fortunate, for some were detailed for picket duty, and as for the
poor pioneers, the enemy, in their retreat, had laid out several hours'
work for them, by felling trees across the road for nearly half a mile,
rendering it impassable for the artillery. The choppers had almost
completed their job, and had left one huge old pine, beyond which,
preparatory to commencing the attack, they had built a roaring fire in
the middle of the road. Suddenly, up rode one of the 3d N. Y. Cavalry,
leading a second horse, laden with a foraged bag of grain. He was very
impatient to rejoin his comrades, encamped some distance in advance of
the main body, and all advice to wait for the removal of the obstacle
proved of no avail. Wheeling about, and riding back a few rods, he
started the two horses on the full gallop, leaped the tree, directly
into the fire, dashed on, and was quickly lost in the thick darkness
beyond.
Refreshed by our night's rest, we were roused at early dawn by the
reveille-call of the bugle, and soon the whole camp was astir.
Breakfast, which, like both the other meals, consisted of hard-tack
and coffee, except when a successful foraging tour increased our
commissariat, was soon disposed of, and we started on the second day's
march. Wading a broad stream, at the very outset, relieved us from all
fear of wetting our feet, and enabled us to travel regardless of mud
and water. We were all becoming more accustomed to the work before us,
though whether that proved of any practical benefit in rendering the
labor easier, is still an open question.
As we had loaded our guns before starting that morning, we confidently
expected to meet the enemy before the close of the day; but, though
occasional firing was to be heard at the front, the skirmishing of our
advance with the rear of the enemy, nothing of the foe was to be seen,
except some prisoners captured by the cavalry, several of them wounded.
It was a sad spectacle, the sight of the poor rebels in their forlorn
condition, so gaunt and filthy, most miserably clad, and above all,
wounded and captive. The horrors of war were indeed becoming a dread
reality and no longer mere printed words. Another sad sight was to see
the men straggling. Poor fellows, who, reduced by fever in the summer,
and but scarcely dismissed from the hospital, lined the road, utterly
exhausted and unable to drag one limb after the other. Others, from
our own ranks, unaccustomed to such hard work, and used up by the march
of the day previous, were compelled to fall out and rest, after an hour
or two of vain attempts to keep up with the hurrying crowd.
The country grew pleasanter as we advanced, and food seemed much more
plentiful; the woods swarmed with wild pigs; cattle and poultry were
quite abundant, and occasionally a hive of honey was discovered, and
quickly dismounted and robbed, regardless of its fiery occupants. Halts
were more frequent that day, and as the camping-ground was earlier
reached, the bivouac was so much the more comfortable. The night was
quite cold, and the ground stiff and frozen in the morning, but we
soon thawed ourselves out before the rekindled fires. Some of the
improvident ones awoke to a sense of their folly, in having emptied
their haversacks at the end of the second day, not having considered
the simple problem that if three days rations are eaten in two days,
the third day they must either beg or starve.
We had a very easy day's work on the thirteenth, for after marching a
few hours, firing commenced in the front, and orders came for us to
hurry forward, as the enemy had made a stand. As we pressed eagerly
onward, the cry was passed along from the rear, of "Give way, right and
left, for artillery!" We were marching through a long, level stretch
of pine forest, and as the men fell back on each side of the road,
we could see the batteries approaching in the distance. As they drew
near, the leader shouted, "Gallop!" and on they came, the horses on
the full run, the guns rattling and jumping, the men clinging to their
seats for dear life, to prevent being dismounted by some extra jounce,
but smiling as if going to parade. Cheer after cheer greeted each
successive piece as it rushed through our ranks on to the front, and we
all felt sure that with such support we could brave any foe.
Leaving the main road, the regiment filed into a cleared space, where
the advance had halted and was drawn up in line of battle with the rest
of the brigade. The skirmishers advanced and disappeared in the woods,
and we awaited anxiously our orders to move; but after a few shots from
cavalry and skirmishers, the enemy fell back, leaving in our possession
two small pieces of artillery. It was decided to halt for the night, to
give the men a good rest, as our proximity to Kinston made a fight the
next day almost inevitable.
[Illustration: KINSTON SWAMP]
[Illustration: The 45^{th} At Kinston N. C. Dec 14, 1962.]