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.
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.