As our skirmishers advanced, they drew the fire of the enemy's pickets, who were ensconced behind little breastworks made of sleepers. The rebels fell back quickly as we came near, firing an occasional shot to spread the alarm, which was replied to on our side, but the distance was too great either to inflict or receive damage. The latter part of the afternoon, after some ten miles marching, we arrived at a large clearing extending on both sides of the track. A house and barn stood on a cross-road on the left, and the Neuse road, separated by a single field from the railroad, was on the right, and, as we subsequently discovered, crossed the track a short distance beyond. Here a halt was ordered, as, not four hundred yards distant, an earth-work loomed up directly across the track. It extended also for some distance to the left into the woods, and was concealed by a sunken fence and underbrush; the works also ran along the track to guard against an attack from the Neuse road. A squad of men sent to the house to make investigation, soon returned with two prisoners, a man and a boy, whom they had discovered making their escape from the back of the house, and after a sharp chase had captured and brought to the colonel. The old man was so frightened at having fallen into the hands of the Yankees, that very little was to be got from him. He amused us by his answer when asked his age; he said he did not know, for his house took fire once, and his age was burnt up.
Unable to ascertain the strength of the enemy, except that there was a "right smart heap," and uncertain whether they had artillery or not, the colonel decided, nevertheless, to advance without awaiting the arrival of the other column. Accordingly, five companies of the 45th filed off to the left, and deploying as skirmishers, advanced through the field back of the house, leaving the sixth company, Co. A, to guard the colors, the 17th Mass. acting as reserve. The firing soon became very brisk along the line of the works, and the enemy's force was estimated at from three to five hundred.
They did not, however, show themselves, and their firing was so high that we concluded they must have held their guns above their heads and fired at random, in their fear of exposing themselves to northern bullets. The colonel was in doubt as to the best course to pursue, for we had no artillery and he feared the rebels might have a masked battery. But as we advanced nearer and nearer, without drawing anything but musketry fire, it was deemed best to carry the works by assault, without waiting for the artillery which was with the other brigade. The order was given to Lieut.-Col. Fellows, of the 17th, to advance with his men and charge the works; but the captain of Co. A did not like to have this honor taken out of his hands, for we were in the advance; so, after some talk, the task was delegated to him. Fixing bayonets, and firing by platoons, we started on the run directly up the track.
The works were two or three hundred yards distant, and had the enemy possessed any artillery, our little company would have suffered most disastrously. But fortunately for us they had none, and at our advance gave way and fled into the woods, greeting us with a final volley as we leaped the ditch and took possession of the entrenchments, where, in their haste, they had left three of their comrades killed by our bullets. The sight of those poor fellows, lying there so still and motionless, made an indelible impression on the mind. It gave us a new insight into the character of the men we were contending with. There they lay, dressed in miserable clothing, their haggard faces, long tangled hair, and neglected beards giving them a wild, hardly human appearance.
The head of the other column arrived just as our victory was assured, but it was not thought best to penetrate any farther on account of our nearness to Kinston, only six miles distant, and not even to hold what we had gained. So, with a loss of one killed and three or four wounded, we started on the return march for camp, ten miles away. Night soon fell, and, to increase the pleasure of the way, it began to rain, gently at first, but soon with a vigor which was, under the circumstances, anything but agreeable.
Our situation was not an enviable one. In the enemy's country, not knowing but they might return at any moment with overpowering numbers; between us and camp a ten-mile's march on a partially demolished track, through thick darkness and a pelting rain. Remembering, however, that "what can't be cured must be endured," we trudged bravely on through the black night, regardless of rank or file, stumbling over the remains of the track, and only anxious to end our trials as soon as possible by a vigorous use of our legs.
Most of us had eaten nothing since morning, and one or two fairly fainted from hunger and exhaustion. Having pretty good legs of our own, we arrived at camp about nine o'clock, among the first, drenched to the skin and too tired to eat or sleep. Other poor fellows were not so fortunate, but came straggling in, in groups of two and three all through the night, some not getting in till the next morning. The march told very severely on some of the field officers who had been unable to take their horses, and were unused to such exercise; and we always felt that the colonel was more lenient to the men after that practical experience of a march.
We remained quietly in camp the next day, though the pioneers were at work on the railroad, apparently engaged in its reconstruction. But only apparently, for the object of our expedition was to retain any force the enemy might have at Kinston in that vicinity, and prevent them from giving assistance to the troops then threatening General Dix at Suffolk. A portion of the 43d Mass. went up the railroad for some distance to keep up the deception, returning the same night.
We were most agreeably surprised here by the receipt of a mail from home, which was brought up to us, and by its help we managed to pass the day very comfortably. After two very rainy nights, we were once more packed on the platform cars and landed directly at Camp Massachusetts, which lay close to the railroad, where we quickly settled down to a life of drill and stockading.