The Battle of New Bern

Via Ken, Pender Roundtable

THE NEWBERN BATTLE.
Kinston, N.C.,

Saturday night, March 15.}

Dear Father – I find that I have an opportunity to-night of giving you and Mother a short account of the terrible battle and retreat which took place eight miles below Newbern, on Friday night the 14th. Wednesday night Capt. Adams received orders that the Yankees being twelve miles below us in large force, he should command his men to prepare three days rations, and be ready to march at a moments notice. At about 11 o’clock I went to bed, and slept till three, when we were ordered up to fall in ranks. I ran to the kitchen, filled my knap-sack with bread and meat, strapped a blanket to my back, and fell in ranks just as my name was called. Our regiment, consisting of ten companies, then took up the line of march and for five long miles we plodded through the darkness and mud, while the rain was wetting us to the skin. At about day break, we reached Fort Thompson, and after a great deal of marching and countermarching, which occupied the whole forenoon, we were at last thrown behind a line of breastworks which extended from Fort Thompson on the left – the Fort was on the banks of the river – to the railroad on the right about two miles. All day Thursday the Yankees continued to shell the batteries below us, and towards dark the shell commenced falling along our lines. During the whole day the rain continued to fall, my clothes were wet through. The enemy now commenced landing, and continued to shell us until after dark. Night came on; our men were exhausted, cold and wet - We threw ourselves down on the wet ground, wrapped ourselves in our drenched blankets, and tried to rest. The rain fell all night long. We had no tents nor houses. I suppose I slept an hour that night. Towards daylight our pickets were driven in by the enemy, we were instantly aroused, and seizing our guns rushed to the breastworks. We were held in suspense for two hours. At length the firing commenced on the right. At the same time the steamers from the river commenced pouring the shells into our left. The “Guilford Greys” were stationed on the extreme left wing, and were within five hundred yards of the enemy’s steamers during the hottest of the fight.

The situation of our company was perfectly awful. The infantry of the enemy did not expose themselves to our fire, and while the shell were falling all around us, and in our midst as fast as hail, or the click of a clock, we (the “Grays”) could not do a thing. We lay in the ditch which was half filled with water and mud, hoping, praying – that the enemy would show themselves to us, so that we could return the havoc which was raging along the left of our line. During the whole of this time, a terrible fight was going on on our right. The enemy were trying to outflank us there. Two times they were repulsed, they fought like tigers. Again they came on, and now more awful than before, raged the battle. Captain Latham’s artillery lost every horse, two-thirds of his men lay dead and bleeding on the ground. The horses of Brem’s artillery were all shot dead, still he poured a continued fire of grape and shot into the advancing ranks of the enemy. Our infantry kept up a deadly fire – hundreds of the Yankees must have fallen – on, on they came. From our lines one vast sheet of flame vomited forth death. They waver, stop – again they repulsed – again they retire. The firing on the right now suddenly ceased. But faster than ever fell the bombs on our left where the Grays were stationed. Within a few feet of me a shell burst, killed a man not three feet from me. Another covered me with dirt; another came crashing, tearing, belching death just on my left, and tore up the breastworks so that a horse could have been stuffed in the gap. Still we could not return the fire. How we prayed in that dark and bloody hour that the men who were pouring death into our ranks would but show themselves. The steamers had now approached within three hundred yards of our company. In five more minutes they could have been in our rear, and without breastworks to protect us, one broadside from a single streamer would have sent every soul of us into eternity. The teeth of every man were ground together. Determination sat upon their brows. We, every man of us, had determined not to retire, but to stay and await a foe that we could contend with, or meet our doom there. Nearer, nearer come the steamers. In three minutes more they would be in our rear. Faster crash the bombs - the roar is deafening Hark! that shout on the right! The enemy have outflanked us – we are whipped. The stars and stripes are planted on our breastworks on the right – the enemy have a sweeping fire down our lines. And now commenced the retreat, the rout, for rout it was. Men throw away their guns, coats, everything that could encumber their disgraceful flight. The Grays were astounded, they had not thought of flight. Hurrying across the field fled our whole army; we could not stay there alone – none to support us. Capt. Adams shouted “right about,” and off we started in a full run, the last to leave the field, the very last. The enemy now came up from a ravine just behind our company and took possession of our wing of the line just as we left.

The steamers continued to shell us as fast as ever. Every moment, until I reached Newbern, a distance of eight miles, the bombs were bursting over my head and around me. The others all soon out-distanced me and I was left alone. Still I pressed on and though exhausted, held on to my gun, determined never to leave that. I passed by my tent, five miles from the field of battle; it was on the banks of the river. The steamers were right off against it, and the shell were raining as fast as ever. I dared not stop to save a thing, and indeed, could not have carried a pin’s weight more anyway. I was now out of breath, nearly dead from exhaustion. Still I had to go three miles further to reach Newbern bridge. The enemy were putting on all their steam to reach the bridge first and cut us off. It was a race of life and death. I gathered my energies and managed to walk slowly on, on, on I plodded through mud and water up to my knees. – I came in sight of the bridge – I thought I was about to fall; I tasted blood, I feared a blood vessel would burst. For a moment I rested. Then up and on. I reached the bridge. I was so nearly dead that I could not carry my cartridge box any longer. I had to throw it away or yield myself up to – Heaven knows what – I threw it away, but clung to my gun, that I was determined never to part with. I managed to crawl over the bridge. As I reached the last plank it was in flames. Had I been five minutes later, I should have been cut off! I threw myself down on a box in the street to rest. Even the passers by, hurrying to save themselves, stopped a moment to look at me – one kind lady stopped and offered to bring me some water. I could only say rest, rest. In half an hour I was able to rise and walk on. Well for me that I did, for the Yankees now had possession of the town, and it was in flames. I now pushed on and learned my company were just ahead. I, however, could not overtake my company. But I had plenty of companions. Nearly all the citizens of Newbern were flying too, men, women, and children. I marched 11 miles that afternoon, making in all a march of 19 miles after being two nights without rest, one of which was spent out in the rain; and after being in a battle all the forenoon. - How I ever did it, God only knows. Eleven miles from Newbern I got aboard the train and came to Kinston, where I got a good bed – feathers! something new for a soldier. Today I can scarcely walk, I am so stiff and sore. For the present, we make a stand here, 35 miles from Newbern. I think, however, we will soon fall back upon Goldsboro. H.K.


Source:

Carolina Watchman. Weekly. Salisbury, N.C. March 31, 1862. Vol. XIX, No. 68.

Transcribed by Gilbert “Skip” Riddle

Amplification note:

Henry Kellogg is H.K. only one with those initials in the Guilford Grays

Provided by Ed Harding:

North Carolina Troops 1861-1865: A Roster

Volume VIII, Page 25-26, Infantry

Co. B. 27th Regiment N.C. Troops (Guilford Grays)

KELLOGG, HENRY G., Private

Resided in Guildford County and enlisted at Fort Macon at age 21, August 1, 1861. Present or accounted for until January, 1863, when he was detailed for duty with the brigade commissary department. Reported on detail with the commissary department at Salisbury from January 1864 through February 1865.

The Captain of the company was their 2nd Captain. Their first Captain, John Sloan was elected Lieutenant Colonel of the Regiment on September 28, 1861.

ADAMS, WILLIAM, Captain

Born in Guilford County where he resided as an attorney prior to enlisting at Fort Macon at age 25. Elected 1st Lieutenant on or about April 20, 1861, and was elected Captain on or about October 4, 1861. Present or accounted for until shot through the abdomen and killed on September 17, 1862, while "fighting nobly on the bloody field of Sharpsburg," Maryland.
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The Battle of New Bern