Written By: Mrs. Olivia C. Pope
With an Excerpt From:
The Recollections Of Winnie Sutton Fields.

So many have written of the battles in and around Kinston, N.C., that I shall not attempt to add to their testimony but shall confine my remarks to those about which the Yankees made life so hard to the citizens of Kinston during the Civil War.

My father, William C. Fields, was Sheriff of Lenoir County for years before the war, but was removed by the Yankees and his place filled by an abolitionist. The first time we really realized fully what war was and what it meant to the citizens, was when Schofield's army invaded Kinston in '63. Some soldiers drove up to my father's gate and asked, "where is the sheriff?". They were told he was in the courthouse. No doubt thinking they would frighten the family, they said, "if he had been at home , we had intended to give him more protection, but we know he is one of the strogest secessionist here, so we are going to burn and destroy everything he has", and gradually they came very near fulfilling their promise. They fought the first battle here at this time. My mother was so sick of the fever she could not be moved and I watched the battle from my home. The Yankees won and moved on to Goldsboro, raiding and destroying as they went. They were in such overwhelming numbers, our soldiers were compelled to retreat and the Yankees returned to New Bern.

While they were camped in Kinston, Schofield's army had their tents in what is now the cemetery and around it, they took the gate from my father's lot away with them. Probably you readers can imagine better than I can describe my feelings when we knew that they had taken the tomb or marble slab from my little brother, DeWitt Fields' grave, and were using it for making their bread. Before leaving Kinston, their army mixed lard, soap, molasses and everything they could not carry with them so as to make it useless to us. Our family had not had food or rest in twenty-four hours. We found a small sack of flour that for some reason they ahd overlooked in a closet, and for the first time in my life I tried to make biscuits, they had not left us one piece of cooking utensils, but a kind neighbor had a small oven that was only cracked, we could cook three biscuits in this at a time but I never had but three. As fast as I could get them baked, they were stolen by the camp followers who were always there to get anything the main army chanced to overlook.

Expecting the army at any time and fearing we would not be able to get anything from the farm, we had an abundane of wood brought in, only a part of this was ready for use when the army came, this they burned in piles in the yard. I asked one of the officers not to allow this, he replied, "all your able-bodied men are in the army fighting us, we are going to have a fire while we stay here and we do not care what fuels it". I soon saw how true this was as they burned furniture and almost everything else before they left. I told him to keep up his fire while he was here as no doubt there would be one for him one day that he would not have to make.

My oldest brother, Alex Fields, volunteered in the 61st N.C. Regiment, but after one year of exposure was discharged on account of ill health. He was not strong enough to go with his company, but was not willing to be idle while his country needed him, so he was made one of Col. Rodman's staff and stationed in Raleigh where he remained until near the close of the war. There he was taken with fever which left him so weak that he was discharged from further duty. He came back to Kinston where, when he was able, he did any and everything in his power to help the Southern Cause.

My second oldest brother Elijah Fields, shouldered his gun in the first year of the war and never even for a day left his company until discharged at the surrender. No soldier ever lived more loyal to the Southern Flag than he, but his wife has told this story better than I can.

Excerpt From
The Recollections Of Winnie Sutton Fields

"My husband Elijah Fields fought through the Civil War, was a volunteer in the 61st N.C. Regiment, Company E, Clingman's Brigade, Captain Byrd.
From enlistment to surrender he never had a furlough, was in many of the hardest battles of the war, several times had holes shot in his clothing, but was never wounded.
He was with his regiment in the battles at Fort Sumpter, James Island, Kinston, Williamston, Plymouth and Tarboro in his own state, also at the front at Gettysburg, Sharpburg, Petersburg and for a long time was near Richmond, Va.
He was captured once in Virginia but was recaptured before he was imprisoned, he knew and shared all the hardships that fell to the lot of the Confederate soldiers. I have heard him tell how they once had to march barefoot in the snow, suffered from hunger, cold, slept on the ground, sick and weary but never thought of giving up the struggle, and in the four years of hardship never saw me or his baby daughter.

One of the most cruel things I ever saw was when the Yankee soldiers cut the hams from a hog and left it still alive. It belonged to Mr. Nick Hunter, a neighbor of ours at the time, they also cut open feather beds and let the feathers out, making the air look like snow.
It was said if they found anything hidden, they would take or burn everything they found, as they did this any way, I tried to help my father hide his own county papers and other valuables. We buried them in a little tin trunk under a fig bush in our garden. That night the Yankees were again camped in Kinston. Several of the officers used our house as headquarters, leaving only one room for the family. The moon was as bright that night as ever shone upon a peaceful scene. Father and I noticed that they had tied one horse just where we had buried our treasure, soon he became restless and we could hear that little tin trunk ring as the horse kicked at it. They had been on a hard march and all