"Thou art right, friend. I am no fighting man. I never fought in my life! I don't want to fight—I won't fight! Thy horsemen caught me on the road, and thee seest the result."
Observing an elderly gentleman in civilians' clothes, I remarked—
"You do not look like a soldier either, friend?"
"No, sir," he replied, "I'm not a soldier; nor would my conscience allow me to fight in the confederate cause. I've always been a Union man, and am so still."
I cautioned him about expressing sentiments that might compromise him when we left, as it was not certain how long he would receive protection from our arms; but he replied, that he cared not; his sentiments were already well known, and while he lived he would express them to friend or foe.
Observing he was lightly clad, I asked if he had any friends in the city who could supply him with clothes and something to eat. He said his son-in-law, named Patterson, lived just across the street, and would attend to his wants, if acquainted with his situation. I offered to carry a message to Mr. Patterson, who expressed surprise at his father-in-law's arrest, saying he was one of the few men in that neighborhood, who had all along remained true to the old flag.
He immediately repaired to the provost marshal's office, and, I had the satisfaction of knowing, was successful in obtaining the old gentleman's unconditional release.
We left our blankets and overcoats on the field, and the night being cold, after our blood had cooled somewhat, when the day's excitement was ended, we felt the need of some covering, and a party of our company was made up to go over and get them; but we could not procure a team, and the project was abandoned. I, however, had no notion of doing without my overcoat, and, with two or three others, who were of the same mind, started for the field. We passed over the place where the fighting had been thickest, and stumbled upon, and over, evidences of the deadly strife—inanimate bodies of friend and foe, maimed and disfigured. But I will not dwell upon the sickening scene revealed to us by the light of the camp fires; suffice it to say, that we were successful in obtaining our clothing and returned to our temporary quarters tired and hungry.
During our absence, a hotel had been set on fire, whether by design or through accident, could not be found out. It was burning fiercely when we returned; and, despite the efforts of our men to extinguish it, was destroyed, together with some small dwellings adjacent.
The gunboats had come up to a blockade about four miles below the city, which was commanded by an earthwork fort; and, after we had driven the rebels out of Kinston, we could hear the continuous boom of heavy artillery in that direction. A squad of the 3d New York Cavalry started for the scene, and surprised and captured the fort that was pounding away at the gunboats, and nearly all in it.