Our skirmish line, under the command of Captain Huguenin, First South Carolina infantry, received their
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the arsenal and machinery.
He then began to fear serious trouble from the concentration of the Confederate forces in his front under General Johnston, and began a movement toward Goldsboro, where he ordered Schofield to join him. His march began March 15th, his advance being steadily resisted by Hampton, and on the 16th he encountered General Hardee near Averasboro, in the narrow, swampy neck between Cape Fear and South rivers, determined to check the Federal advance to gain time for the concentration of Johnston's army.
At 7 a. m. on the 16th, Hardee's line was attacked, 5 miles south of Averasboro, and Colonel Rhett's brigade forced back, rallying on Elliott's. Forming a second line, supported by McLaws' division and later by Wheeler's cavalry, the fighting was continued, although the enemy's great superiority in numbers enabled him to flank the second line and compel Hardee to occupy a third.
He maintained his position during the day and retreated upon Smithfield, where Johnston's headquarters was then located.
He reported his loss as 400 or 500. Colonel Rhett was captured, in a skirmish preceding the battle, and Colonel Butler commanded his brigade.
Casualties were reported in fourteen brigades of the Federal army, aggregating 95 killed, 533 wounded and 54 missing.1
General Taliaferro, in his report of the battle of Averasboro, says:
1 A Federal line officer, writing of this fight years afterward, said: ‘It was a wretched place for a fight. At some points we had to support our wounded until they could be carried off, to prevent their falling into the swamp water, in which we stood ankle deep. No ordinary troops were in our front. They would not give way until a division of Davis' corps was thrown upon their right while we pressed them closely. As we passed over their dead and wounded, I came upon the body of a very young officer, whose handsome, refined face attracted my attention. While the line of battle swept past me I knelt at his side for a moment. His buttons bore the arms of South Carolina. Evidently we were fighting the Charleston chivalry.’
Atlanta, Ga. 1899.
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