rebel cavalry scoured the
woods and shot dead every colored soldier and man that was able to
bear arms. The number murdered in this way must have been in the
neighborhood of one hundred.

We went to sleep that night feeling very gloomy, tired, and hungry,
most of us having had nothing to eat during the day. It was nothing
new to us to sleep on the ground without anything over us, for we
were quite used to that, but we could easily see what we were to
expect from the hands of the rebels, and many were thinking of home
and how anxious our friends would be to hear of our fate, whether
killed in the battle or captured; and if captured, _worse_ than
killed. The next day we had twenty-five hard crackers and on an
average about ten ounces of raw salt pork issued to us. This had to
last us till the morning of the 26th, making five days, thus making
five crackers and two ounces of pork per day. On this we had to live
and during the day make quite long marches.

Colonel Beach, Lieutenant Colonel Burnham, Major Pasco, Quartermaster
Robins, Surgeon Mayer, Assistant Surgeon Nickerson, and Captain Burke,
together with the wounded men, remained at Plymouth. About noon of the
21st we took up our line of march, halting about nine in the evening,
making a distance of thirteen miles. We marched more or less every day
until the noon of the 25th, when we arrived at Tarboro, having passed
through the villages of Foster's Mill, Jamesville, Williamston, and
Hamilton. Crowds of women and children lined the roadside eager to get
a glimpse of the "Yankees," some hissing and insulting us in various
ways. On the 23d, the 11th Virginia guarded us, and we learned that
the same regiment fought against us on the Edenton road at Suffolk a
year before. By the time we reached Tarboro, we were nearly starved,
having been out of rations from twelve to thirty-six hours. At noon,
some bacon and corn-bread were issued to the officers, and to the
enlisted men in addition some peas which were by long cooking
softened sufficiently to be eaten. At one o'clock, April 26th, all the
officers and the 85th New York went aboard the cars and were on their
way to the famous prison pens of the South, thus separating the
officers from the enlisted men--only a few of whom lived to meet again
at New Berne a year after. Traveling all night in crowded cars, we
arrived at Wilmington at daybreak, where we crossed the river by ferry
boats, and again taking cars we arrived at Fl