position. Second Lieutenant Charles W. Davis of Company A, was promoted to the rank of First Lieutenant, and put in command of the company.

During the time we remained on the island we drilled a little in addition to guarding the prisoners who were soon sent to Elizabeth City and paroled. March 4th we went on board the “Northerner” again. The sailors of the old ship had her gaily decorated for the occasion and we were welcomed on board again most cordially.

Not until the 11th did we move, then at night we dropped down the sound to near Hatteras Inlet. On the morning of the 12th we started down Pamlico Sound toward the mouth of the Neuse River. We were then told we were headed for Newbern, and up the river we sailed until we came to the mouth of Slocum’s Creek, a small stream emptying its waters into the right side of the Neuse about fifteen miles below Newbern. Here we anchored for the night.

The next day we were engaged most of the forenoon in landing, which was accomplished without interference, and about noon we started up the right bank of the river toward Newbern. We soon struck the railroad connecting Newbern and Beaufort and an extensive earthwork, and farther on toward Newbern still another, and a cavalry camp with a considerable quantity of provisions. Later on in the afternoon we reached the immediate front of the enemy’s last line of works filled with soldiers and a fort with cannon mounted. Here they evidently intended to make a stand. We halted for the night and our company was thrown out in front of us as a picket line. That was the first time I had been on picket duty right in front of the enemy, and if I remember rightly, I kept very much awake that night. Early in the morning we had coffee and directly started forward to the attack. The ground in our immediate front was uneven and as we passed over a little hill we came in sight of the Johnnies filing into their works in front of us. As we moved down the hill and across a narrow valley with a small stream winding through it, other troops appeared on the little hill we had just passed over. The Johnnies opened fire on them, we moved up to the brow of the next rise of ground and opened fire. Thus the battle in that part of the line began.

A thing happened as we were making our way across the little stream just mentioned that afforded the boys some amusement. The stream was too wide to ford but there were places where one could jump across. Picking their way across in that way, to be sure, broke the line up pretty badly. It was just at that time the Johnnies opened fire on the troops in our immediate rear on the little hill. The Johnnies’ opening fire was vigorous. There was a terrific roar of musketry and the way the balls tore through the treetops over our heads sounded peculiar enough, but we were protected, being so low down. One of the officers of our company had been a member of a country band at home, furnishing music for balls and dancing parties about the country. He had been the prompter, had called off the different dances. As we were getting across that stream in the midst of the roar from the Confederate musketry the officer referred to, became very much excited and danced around furiously ordering the company to keep in line, etc. None of the boys were particularly disturbed, but the officer referred to was very much excited. The boys noticed this, and directly some one piped up “All promenade.” Instantly another sang out, “Ladies, grand change.” That had the most remarkable effect on that officer. He saw at once that was banter aimed at him. He quieted down and behaved himself like a little man through the rest of the fight.

We lay there and fired away until about eleven o’clock, when General Reno saw a favorable opportunity to make an advance. With the right wing of the 21st a charge was made breaking the enemy’s lines and capturing a battery; our right wing was forced back somewhat but the Johnnies were not able to recover their line entirely, nor get the guns of the battery away. Our boys shot down the horses and we all advanced. Directly, the Confederates saw their line was broken and they began to retreat all along the line. During the fight I had visible evidence of three close calls. I was lying with Brig. Barnes behind a little log that partly protected us, firing away. First the bayonet of my gun was hit, then a ball passed through my roll of blankets, and last the stock of my gun was shot away. Those hits were each made an instant after I fired. I think a Johnnie saw the smoke puff out from where I lay and fired at it.

When my gun-stock was shot away I had to go back and get another. Pat Martin had been killed. I saw him lying on the ground with a bullet hole through his forehead. I was given his gun and went back to my place again. The bullet that went through my roll of blankets also made two holes through my blouse on my shoulder underneath the blankets.

Captain Frazier of Company H did a clever piece of work at this time. He was in the right wing, his company was one of those that made the charge breaking the enemy’s line and capturing the battery. When he was in the most advanced position, he was hit and fell to the ground; a few minutes later after the Johnnies had retaken the ground, he came to, the wound being a scalp wound, the bullet not penetrating the skull only stunned him for a moment. He was made prisoner and sent to the rear under guard. He was soon all right. He took in the situation and determined to play opossum. He feigned very sick, induced the guard to let him lie down in the shade of some bushes a little way from the road. He then kept a sharp watch out, saw the Confederates were retreating and at the proper moment pulled out his revolver, got the drop on his guard, made them lay down their guns and marched them back to the place where we were.

We moved on a quarter or a half a mile where we came to the Johnnies’ barracks. In front of the cook-house the tables were all set for breakfast but apparently not a thing had been eaten. The poor devils had been obliged to fall into line before they could eat their breakfasts and had fought the battle on empty stomachs. That must have been the reason why they lost.

As we got over the excitement and had a chance to look around we discovered we were as black as a lot of niggers. Our powder was bad, the air was thick and heavy, forcing the smoke down to the ground and as we perspired it stuck to us; my gun had kicked so my shoulder was dreadfully sore, and my head had been nearly snapped off every time I fired, toward the last, and it ached enough to split open.

We occupied the Johnnies’ camp for a few days and had no end of fun going through their things and reading the love letters they had received from the girls they had left behind them. The next day we buried our four boys who were killed. They were Pat Martin, James Fessenden, Joseph E. Stone and James Sullivan.

Of the four men killed in our company, I felt in only one a personal loss. Jimmy Sullivan of Westboro, was an exceptional boy, two years my junior. His was a light-hearted, joyous nature. He was the pet of the company and without an enemy in it. How he was killed I never knew; from the advanced position I occupied during the action it was impossible for me to know what was going on in the company.

We remained in the rebs barracks three days, then went into camp in tents on the south side of a large field stretching along the right bank of the Trent River about a mile and a half from Newbern. That was not a bad place and we enjoyed the time we stayed there very well. Up to that time we had used