After the usual delay in getting men and horses on board the cars, we moved slowly up the road, which, passing through the camps and entrenchments surrounding the town on this side, runs for miles in an almost straight line through the pine forest, broken here and there by a clearing, and an occasional picket or signal station. After a ride of some twelve miles we reached the outpost at Batchelder's Creek, then held by the 58th Penn., Colonel Jones. Their camp was surrounded by earthworks, and a strong blockhouse commanded the railroad and bridge across the creek, where a row of sharpened stakes presented an ugly front to any hostile visitor.
The centre of attraction was, however, a railroad monitor, which stood on a side-track. It was an iron-plated baggage-car, with a peaked roof, the skylight serving for an entrance, which was reached by a ladder on the outside, removable in time of need. It carried two rifled six-pounders, one at each end, for which there were port-holes in the sides and ends of the car, thus giving the gunners range both of the railroad and surrounding country. The sides of the car were covered with rifles, and pierced with loop-holes for their use, the whole affair being surmounted by the old flag. This formidable arm of the service accompanied us to our camping-ground, where it remained during our sojourn.
About six miles beyond Batchelder's Creek, we were dumped from the platform cars, much after the manner of dumping gravel, into an open field bordering on a small stream, boasting the name of Core Creek. The clearing extended on both sides of the railroad, the farmer's house and barn forming the prominent feature in the scene. These were immediately placed under guard to prevent any depredation by unlawful hands.
The family had not left the house, perhaps having been wholly overcome by the unexpectedness of our visit. The poor man had most unfortunately planted his corn and grain, and there is great reason to fear that a love for the Union did not prevail in his mind when he beheld his crop trampled under the feet of Union soldiers, and his nice rail fences vanish in the smoke of their fires. No unnecessary damage was inflicted, but when three or four regiments are encamped for several days on a planted field, you cannot expect very much of a harvest.
As the whole afternoon was before us, we at once set to work to make our bivouac more than ordinarily comfortable. Rails being the first requisite, we collected quite a pile, and then commenced on our shanty. Planting two rails firmly in the ground, inclined towards each other and crossing a little at the top in this manner X, we secured them in this position with blanket straps, and the length of a rail distant, planted two more in like manner. A rail laid in the notches formed the ridge-pole of our house, and rails slanted from this pole to the ground completed the frame-work. The covering for the roof consisted of our rubber blankets, making a waterproof hut, of which we were very thankful before our stay in that spot was over.
Our next care after completing the hut, was to procure a good bed, which we soon accomplished by felling two or three pines and lopping off the small branches, these making a delightfully soft and springy mattress. After a very comfortable night's rest, we amused ourselves in exploring the brook which ran through a pleasant little vale close by the camp, and idled about till noon. While wondering whether it was not time for dinner, the drums began to sound the "assembly," followed immediately by the summons to "Fall in."
Colonel Amory having been compelled by sickness to return to Newbern, the command devolved upon Colonel Codman. Accompanied by a portion of the 17th Mass., under Lieut.-Col. Fellows, we were soon on our way up the railroad, preceded by two companies of the 45th, under command of the major, as a scouting party. A short distance beyond the creek, we passed a small earth-work, where some months before a body of rebels had been surrounded and captured, and the debris of their camp still lay scattered about.
The track had been partially relaid for some distance, rendering the marching anything but pleasant, as there was no path on the side of the track, owing to the slippery, muddy condition of the steep banks. Moreover, the weather was extremely warm, adding much to the discomfort of the march, especially to such as had been foolish enough to wear their overcoats. Most of the men had eaten no dinner, and but one or two of the wise ones had thought to bring anything with them.
A mile or more from camp, we passed the bivouac of the two companies who had been on picket duty the previous night, and were now scouting in advance of us. As we pushed forward, all the roads which crossed the track were eagerly scanned for traces of the enemy or the column co-operating with us on the Neuse road. But nothing was to be seen until, after marching about six miles, we came upon the major, who was awaiting our approach with his little battalion at one of these cross-roads. He had discovered a body of troops on the river-road, which was quickly pronounced to be the other brigade.
The two companies which had been employed thus far in the fatiguing duty of skirmishing through the swampy country where the road ran, were left here under command of the major, as a reserve, and we hurried forward. The track had been wholly demolished from this point as far on as we went. In some places they had turned the whole body of the track, rails and sleepers, into the ditch, while in others they had burnt the sleepers, bending the rails in the fires. We found this destruction of the track rather a benefit than otherwise, for it gave us a smooth, level road, free from obstructions, and much less wearisome to march upon than where we were obliged to jump from sleeper to sleeper.