smoke of hundreds of fires, extending as far as the eye could reach on the bed of the road, indicating how completely the work of demolition had been accomplished. I think it will take the mechanics of Jeff Davis as many months to repair the mischief done as it took the New-York and Massachusetts boys hours to perpetrate it. But in the mean time, and toward sunset, the rebels having crossed the county bridge, some two or three miles above the railroad, to the number of three thousand, came down and charged across the railroad upon battery B, Third NewYork artillery. They formed in three lines of battle, and came on with a terrible swoop, intending to crush all before them. The Captain of the battery ordered his pieces to be loaded with a double charge of grape and canister, and when they came within about sixty yards, sent a hail-storm into their midst, which mowed them down like grass, and before they could rally or fly, sent another discharge into them which threw them into such confusion that they incontinently fled and were seen no more. About forty prisoners were taken, and if the artillery supports had charged, no doubt many more would have been captured. The Seventeenth lost but two men killed and seventeen wounded in this affair. Of the losses to the other regiments I know not, but they must have been trifling. Of the rebel loss I am not capable of guessing, and can therefore give no estimate. The expedition was successful. The strategy of Gen. Foster completely bewildered the rebel leaders, and thus one of the most important lines of railway was cut and rendered useless, and the army of North-Carolina having marched one hundred and forty miles, fought three engagements, and returned to Newbern unmolested, in ten days from the time of setting out. If all our armies worked so well, so hard, and to such purpose, how long, think you, would it take to flatten out this rebellion? Why, about thirty days. There may be some inaccuracies, omissions, and mistakes in the foregoing, but so far as my limited observation can extend, the facts stated are mainly correct. BOSTON "TRANSCRIPT" ACCOUNT. P. CAMP AMORY, ON THE TRENT, A Letter from the Forty-fifth Regiment. place, participating in the recent expedition to Goldsboro. What I write must relate more particularly to the doings of the Forty-fifth, as one has but little chance to know what is happening elsewhere, if attending to duty in his own regiment. As I have before stated, five A.M. of the eleventh found us on the march for Newbern proper, about two miles from our camp. On arriving in the city, we found it full of horse, foot, artillery, and munitions of war of all kinds in motion, and all seeming in a hurry. Were soon marched to our position on the Trent road, where our brigade (the First Amory's) was forming. Here of course occurred the usual and inevitable delay attending military movements, not getting fairly started until after nine A.M. The line of advance thence was over the Trent road, bearing north-west from the city, which seemed to be the constant direction of our march. Our progress was slow, and often varied with halts. The reason for this was apparent-bad roads. The orders being for the men to avoid mud and wet as much as possible. With a considerateness which does somebody credit, they were permitted to pass around or get through bad places in the best way they could. Nothing of special interest occurred during our first day's march. We passed numerous picket stations of our own during the day; among the rest a camp of the Massachusetts Twenty-fifth, also very many ruins of houses along the road, fruits of secession-whether destroyed by our own men or by the rebels themselves, we were unable to ascertain. The close of the day and a quick turn in the road brought us in view of our camp-ground for the night, which a large portion of the advance had already reached and built their fires for the night, using for the purpose the very excellent hard pine rails with which the ground (an immense corn-field) was surrounded. It is supposed that we marched about eighteen miles this day, and being quite thoroughly tired, wrapped ourselves in our blankets, and without other shelter, lay down to sleep, which came without much wooing. The early morning of the twelfth finds us again on the march. There are rumors of skirmishing in the front by the cavalry, and we find that attempts have been made to obstruct the passage of our troops by felling enormous trees across the road, but the pioneers preceding us have cleared the way of all obstructions, and we are enabled to pass along without delay, except from the roads, which at this time seem to be particularly bad, the mud and water averaging anywhere from ankle to knee-deep. The privilege granted the men on the first day of picking the best way through the mud was found to cause so much delay that orders were given to push along straight through every thing, consequently there was some tall wading, and few but had wet and muddy feet and legs. About noon we reached a place where our cavalry had a skirmish with mounted pickets of the enemy, taking three of them prisoners, whom we saw lying alongside the road under guard. A short distance further on, a poor misguided "reb" was lying in front of a small house, wounded, it was said unto death, and soon another in the same condition. Matters now looked as if coming to a crisis. Company E was sent to the rear as skirmishers, and videttes were thrown out from each company, but none of the enemy were seen. The march this P.M. was almost constantly over swamp roads with mud ankle-deep. Nothing further of interest occurred during the day. At nine o'clock a halt was ordered and we bivouacked as before, in a corn-field. At about seven o'clock on the morning of the thirteenth, we were off again on our travels. Nothing of importance occurred until ten o'clock, when we heard the booming of heavy guns from the artillery in advance; at first faint and occasional, but soon louder and more continuous. Somehow, it seemed as if a load of fatigue was lifted off the shoulders of the regiment. Each individual appeared to press forward with renewed vigor, as though anxious to be in the van, if there was work to be done. Now came the order to halt, and give way to the right and left, when several batteries of artillery dashed through our centre to the front. The gap was quickly closed up, and the word was forward. At twelve o'clock we reached a position of cross-roads where, near by, in a field, the line of battle formed. The regiment was soon placed in position to support the field-battery, and every preparation made for fighting. In this state matters remained until about four, when orders came to stack arms, and bivouac in position for the night. The noise of the big guns had ceased, and there appeared no prospect of an engagement at this point. A cavalry man who was in the advance told the following story in regard to the firing we had heard coming from our front in the forenoon. He said that there had been considerable skirmishing with cavalry and infantry of the enemy since yesterday. To-day the advance had reached a place, just beyond our camp, on the banks of a creek, where a rebel battery of two twelvepounders was posted. The bridge across the creek had been destroyed to prevent the passage of our troops, but the valiant Ninth New-Jersey charged across through the water and took both pieces. "I tell the tale as 'twas told to me." At eight o'clock on Sunday, the fourteenth, (an eventful day with us, for it marks the first blood shed by the regiment,) we were on the move, soon crossing the creek where the Ninth New-Jersey were said to have charged across. The bridge had been re-built by our sappers and miners, and the troops passed without hindrance. One of the captured pieces lay near, by the side of the road, and not far from it two dead forms with the uniform of secession upon them. For a long distance the woods had been felled to form an abattis, and everything indicated preparations had been made at this point for a stubborn resistance to our advance. It is said that prisoners taken here stated that the rebels were unaware of our numbers, supposing it to be a mere cavalry raid from Newbern, but when they found the extent of our forces, they chose discretion as the better part of valor, and retired, abandoning their position. Here again, as before when we expected fighting, the road lay through a swamp, with mud and water half-way up to our knees. At half past ten in the forenoon the sound of artillery firing, interspersed with occasional discharges of musketry, came from the front, and indicated the commencement of the fight at Kinston, concerning which action it is my purpose to relate so much as pertains to the participation of the Forty-fifth therein. In the first place we came to a halt for the purpose of allowing the passage of the artillery through our centre. Then rapidly closing up, the line of march was taken up over a road running nearly north toward the scene of action; soon diverging a little to the east, passing into a field where a battery was posted, with a regiment of infantry in support, and then under fire. It was understood at this time that the rebels were endeavoring to execute a flank movement on our forces. To aid in defeating this, the Forty-fifth were sent first by the left and then by the right into the woods skirting the road I have before mentioned, by the latter movement crossing it and passing into the woods in the new direction. The road had not been left hardly a moment before three of our number were killed and several wounded. Pressing steadily forward without firing, the regi ment passed into a swamp, knee-deep in mud, where we found the Tenth Connecticut and One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania. Immediately under a heavy fire the line of battle was formed, and the advance commenced upon the enemy, whe were posted in the road and on high ground to the right, with a church thereon, the whole position forming an arc of a circle, completely commanding the swamp, and apparently an excellently selected position to defend, and from whence a stout resistance came against the advance of our troops. The bullets, shot and shell flew like hail. veterans of the Tenth Connecticut and the One Ilundred and Third Pennsylvania and other regiments of Wessell's brigade say that they were never in a position where the fire was more concentrated or rapid. Our troops lay close for a while, loading and firing with all the rapidity possible. Here many were killed and wounded. Some of the latter are mentioned as being struck in the back; it was in this way, lying with face toward the foe; but never a one in retreat. Soon an opportune moment came for a charge from a portion of the line, and the brave Tenth Connecticut swept forward to the front in advance of the Forty-fifth, who rapidly closed up. The rebels gave way gra dually from the woods skirting the swamp, occupying, in the retreat, the church I have before mentioned, and holding it until there was scarcely a square foot but that had a bullet-hole in it. Then with the advantages gained in position by the ar tillery and our infantry to the left, in advance, the position became too warm to hold, and the enemy commenced retreating across the river, under cover of the fire of a five-gun battery of theirs, which had been in service all the time during the The DOCUMENTS. This fight, as at Kinston, was along the banks fight. Getting most of their force over, the bridge The Forty-fifth did not cross the river at this At about dusk the Forty-fifth filed off in line Made an early start on the morning of the six- The rebels were posted in log fortifications on ground, and had, it is said, two gunboats, recently built, to aid them. These gunboats were troops did not seek to cross the river at all, the destroyed by our artillery, so it is reported. Our object appearing to be simply to silence the batteries and destroy the gunboats. At about half-past two the firing ceased, and we again took up our line of march forward. Nothing further occurred during the day. At night we encamped on a field near a run of water called Sleepy Creek. On the morning of the seventeenth the word was, forward again. We began to think, as had through to Richmond. At ten o'clock, after a been jokingly said, that we were to go straight long halt, the position of the Forty-fifth was changed from well in the advance, where we had been from the start, to the rear, as baggageguard. In this position the march was continued till about half-past three, and to within two or At this time, halfthree miles of Goldsboro, where heavy firing had been going on since forenoon. past three, an orderly came riding from the front, giving directions that the baggage-train should be immediately reversed, that all had been accomplished that was desired, and the expedition was to return to Newbern. Of the fight at Goldsboro, I know nothingthe Forty-fifth were in no way engaged, and not After turning face toward Newbern, the reginear enough to see any thing of the action. ment stood in line some time while portions of the advance marched by them—the band of the Forty-fifth, which had accompanied the regiment with their instruments, playing the while. The band also gave an evening concert for the gratification of the troops while at Kinston. The march was kept up, this day, until halfpast nine in the evening, when we went into camp. On the morning of the eighteenth started at five, still in charge of the baggage; the left flank, These prisoners were all company I, in charge of a batch of prisoners, which had been captured along the way, principally by the cavalry. paroled alongside the road on the way down. Passed the Whitehall (at Jericho) battle-ground at ten. Nothing of interest during the rest of the day. Got into camp about eight. Said to have marched about twenty-two miles-our longest day's work. On the nineteenth we were away at sunrise. Passed during the forenoon the battle-ground at Kinston, and the houses near by which were used for hospitals on the occasion of the fight, whence the wounded were taken on ambulances, to be placed on board gunboats lying about three miles below the town, and by them carried to Newbern. The same course was pursued with the wounded at Whitehall, an item which I neglected to mention in its proper place. The bridge across the Neuse, which the rebels tried to burn, on the day of the fight, and did not succeed in the attempt, we find has been entirely destroyed by our own troops, and Kinston evacuated. Indeed, this we expected, and had heard of before from two companies of our regiment (E and K) who were left behind to patrol the town, and were the last to leave, burning the bridge on their departure, and rejoining the regiment in camp, late on the night of the fifteenth, the day after the battle. Homeward bound from Kinston, we take the Neuse road, said to be some thirteen miles nearer than the Trent road by which we came. The rebels appear to have expected us this way from Newbern, as we find breastworks thrown up commanding the road, trees felled, and many deserted camps. An old miller, whom we met on the way, told us that up to Friday before the Sunday of the fight these camps were all occupied. At that time they all moved into town. He estimated that there were from six to seven thousand rebel troops in Kinston on the day of the fight. We passed during the day two or three dead rebels lying by the side of the road, supposed to have been pickets killed in skirmishes with our cavalry. Nothing of interest occurred on the twentieth, save that we marched some twenty miles, which brought us to within six or eight miles of our barracks at Newbern. On the twenty-first, started at six o'clock, and at half-past ten o'clock marched into our old camp to the dear old tune of "Home, Sweet Home" from the band. Glad enough were we, poor, weary, foot-sore soldiers, to get back, I can assure you. Not, however, but that we would have endured twice as much, had it been possible, and the cause demanded it. To sum up briefly the time of the expedition from leaving Newbern was ten and a half days. In that period but little less than two hundred miles were marched, over the worst of roads. Out of that time, about a day and a half was occupied in fighting. The Forty-fifth was probably eight hours altogether, in action and under fire. One word in regard to the officers of our regiment. I know how little flattering words cost, and how often they are used in the connection in which I am about to write, without a shadow of truth, but I feel certain that when I say that each and all of them have doubled the high estimate in which they were held by the regiment previous to the starting of the expedition, I do but make an assertion which will be met by a hearty amen in the Forty-fifth. If any fault were to be found, it would be of recklessness in some cases. Dr. Kneeland and the Rev. Dr. Stone were in the thickest of the fight, and often in great dan ger, attending to the wants of the wounded, in which duty they were ably seconded by the band of the regiment, acting as an ambulance corps. It may be supposed that one who was in the expedition would be likely to know something of the whys and wherefores of its origin and its effects; but those matters I leave for others. I simply know that I went with my regiment, which was one of probably some twenty or more others. There was fighting at Kinston, Whitehall and Goldsboro, and after that we came home. I heard of bridges and railroads being destroyed between Goldsboro and Wilmington by our troops. It is said that the movement was quite successful. I trust it was equal to the sacrifice of life and limb involved. If so, amen to the mud, fatigue, short rations, and every thing else endured to secure the result. There are many incidents and accidents remaining in my memory which I could not find room for in this letter, but will try to make the subject of another at some future time. W. REBEL OFFICIAL ACCOUNT. REPORT OF MAJOR-GENERAL G. W. SMITH. Gen. S. Cooper, Adjutant and Inspector-General, GENERAL: I have the honor to inclose copies of the reports of Brig.-Generals Evans, Robertson, and Clingman, giving an account of the various affairs with the enemy in this vicinity, in their recent bridge-burning and pillaging expedition from Newbern. Brig.-Gen. Evans, with two thousand men, held them in check at South-west Creek, beyond Kinston, on the thirteenth, and, on the fourteenth, delayed their advance for some time, and succeeded in withdrawing his force with small loss, to the left bank of the Neuse River, at Kinston. He held them at bay until the sixteenth, when they advanced on the opposite side of the river, and made an attack at Whitehall bridge about eighteen miles below Goldsboro, in which they were driven back by Gen Robertson with severe loss. Small reënforcements arrived from Petersburgh and Wilmington on the fifteenth, one regiment of which was placed in position to cover the railroad bridge over the Neuse, near this place. A battalion of artillery which had made a successful retreat from the works of the obstructions below Kinston, after the enemy occupied the latter point in force, was stationed on this side of the river, at the railroad bridge, and about a half a mile above, at the county bridge. On the sixteenth a regiment arrived from Wilmington, and one from Petersburgh, both of which were sent to the river, and under Gen. Clingman's command, to protect the two bridges. On the morning of the seventeenth, having no cavalry, and being unable to obtain information by other means, I directed Lieut.-Colonel Stevens, of the engineers, with two brigades and five pieces of artillery, to make a reconnoissance, for the purpose of ascertaining the position and numbers of the enemy. General Evans's brigade had then reached Goldsboro by rail, and remaining on board, only awaiting the clearing of the track and watering of the engines, to move by rail to the position already occupied by Gen. Clingman with his three regiments, about one mile and a half be yond the railroad bridge. The capacity of the water-tanks being inadequate for the amount of transportation accumulated here at that time, the cars were delayed until after twelve o'clock, for want of water; pending which, the enemy appeared in force before General Clingman's three regiments, and he withdrew across the county bridge to this side of the river. The artillery of the eneuy was playing upon the railroad bridge, and Evans's brigade had at last to move forward by the county road, and cross, if at all, the bridge a half-mile above the railroad. Doc. 74. GEN. BUTLER'S FAREWELL ADDRESS TO THE ARMY OF THE GULF. HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF THE GULF, GENERAL Orders, No. 103. SOLDIERS OF THE ARMY OF THE GULF: Relieved from further duties in this department by direction of the President, under date of November ninth, 1862, I take leave of you by this final order, it being impossible to visit your scattered outposts covering hundreds of miles of the frontier of a larger territory than some of the kingdoms of Europe. About three o'clock in the afternoon, one bold and daring incendiary succeeded in reaching the bridge, and, covered by the wing wall of the abutment, lighted a flame, which soon destroyed the superstructure, leaving the masonry abutments and pier intact. At that time, reënforcements which I had ordered from Richmond were hourly expected. It was very important for us now to save the county bridge, the only means remaining of cross-ity of privations, hardships, dangers, victories, ing the river in this vicinity. Evans's and Cling- successes, military and civil-is the only sorrowman's brigades were ordered to cross, supported ful thought I have. by Pettigrew's brigade, and the Mississippi brigade, just coming in, was ordered to move for ward at once. The enemy were driven back from their position on the line of the railroad; but on account of the lateness of the hour, the nature of the ground, and the fact that our artillery, cavalry, and a large portion of the reenforcements had not yet arrived, it was not advisable to attack their strong second position that evening. During the night the enemy made a hurried retreat to their fortifications and gunboats, moving with such celerity that it was useless to attempt pursuit with any other arm than cavalry, of which at that time, unfortunately, we had none. I passed over the railroad from the Neuse bridge to Wilmington on the twenty-fourth, and returned last night. The bridge is fast being repaired. At present we are subjected to the temporary inconvenience of transhipment across the county bridges, but in a few days this will be remedied, and every thing restored to the former condition. I regret that this grand army of invasion did not remain in the interior long enough for us to get at them. As it is, they burned the superstructure of two bridges, which cost originally less than ten thousand dollars, and can be replaced at once, and have utterly failed to attempt to take advantage of the temporary and partial interruption of our railroad line for the purpose of striking a decisive blow at any important point before we could thoroughly reestablish our communication with it. I beg leave to call your attention to the reports of Lieut.-Col. Stevens, confederate States engineers, and to Lieut.-Col. Poole, as well as to those of the three brigadier-generals previously named. Our loss is reported at seventy-one killed and two hundred and sixty-eight wounded, and about four hundred missing. Most of the latter were taken prisoners at Kinston bridge, and have since been returned paroled. I am, General, very respectfully, your obedient Servant, I greet you my brave comrades, and say farewell! This word-endeared as you are by a commun You have deserved well of your country. Without a murmur you sustained an encampment on a sand-bar so desolate that banishment to it with every care and comfort possible has been the most dreaded punishment inflicted upon your bitterest and most insulting enemies. You had so little transportation that but a handful could advance to compel submission by the queen city of the rebellion, whilst others waded breast-deep in the marshes which surround St. Philip, and forced the surrender of a fort deemed impregnable to land attack, by the most skilful engineers of your country and her enemy. At your occupation order, law, quiet, and peace sprang to this city, filled with the bravos of all nations, where, for a score of years, during the profoundest peace, human life was scarcely safe at noonday. By your discipline you illustrated the best traits of the American soldier, and enchained the admiration of those that came to scoff. Landing with a military chest containing but seventy-five dollars, from the hoards of a rebel government you have given to your country's treasury nearly a half-million of dollars, and so supplied yourselves with the needs of your service that your expedition has cost your Government less by four fifths than any other. You have fed the starving poor, the wives and children of your enemies, so converting enemies into friends that they have sent their representatives to your Congress by a vote greater than your entire numbers, from districts in which, when you entered, you were tauntingly told that there was "no one to raise your flag." By your practical philanthropy you have won the confidence of the "oppressed race" and the slave. Hailing you as deliverers, they are ready to aid you as willing servants, faithful laborers, or using the tactics taught them by your enemies, to fight with you in the field. By steady attention to the laws of health, you have staid the pestilence, and, humble instruments in the hand of God, you have demonstrated the necessity that his creatures should obey his |