The mere recollection of the nine days passed on the steamer "Mississippi" is painful, but it occupied too prominent a position in our experience to be omitted in this sketch.

After the usual delay on the wharf, attending the embarkation of a large body of men, we filed on to the steamer, and were ushered into our respective quarters. Our company, with five others, were consigned to the stern of the vessel; so, passing down the companion-way, deeper and deeper, darker and darker, until we could, at least, claim a nearer proximity to China than ever before, we arrived in the hold. As light was never known to penetrate that quarter, for two dim lanterns and three air-holes covered with gratings could hardly be said to afford light, it will be impossible to describe its appearance. As well as could be ascertained by touch and smell, the whole available space was fitted up with bunks, three tiers deep and of different capacities, holding from one to four occupants, those comfortably crowded with three being intended for four, and so on down to the single ones. All this we learned by the touch, and at least we will give them credit for making the most of their room; but our olfactory nerves had another story to tell; however, we will not particularize.

The other companies were stowed in the forward part of the vessel, between decks and in the hold, the band lying wherever they could find space enough. In addition, five companies of the 46th Regiment were entrusted to the tender mercies of the "Mississippi," and where they were packed is beyond the power of man to say—one company, at all events, was located on the quarter-deck.

Now all this would have been well enough had we sailed that night, as was intended, and made the four-day trip to Beaufort; but no such good luck was in store, and our initiation was not to be quite so easy. A heavy northeasterly storm set in, soon after we had hauled into the stream, and for five days, a tempest of rain, hail, sleet and snow raged with unceasing fury.

Colonel Codman declared the vessel should not sail in such a crowded, filthy condition, and the captain said he could not sail if he would, on account of the storm, and more than that, there must be a convoy to protect us from the "Alabama," at that time reported off the coast. So there we lay at anchor, tossing and pitching, in plain sight of the city, which only served to aggravate us in our wretchedness, while near by, lay our companions in misery, the 43d and the remainder of the 46th on our consort, the "Merrimac."

Our drinking-water was condensed from salt water by an apparatus connected with the engine, and was always in a lukewarm, yellowish state, enough to make one renounce water forever, and before which Gough himself would have stood dumb. A guard, also, was always stationed over the cask to prevent the men from drinking too much; whether because the process of condensation had rendered it more precious than common water, or from a fear of the men sickening from a too free use of the vile liquid, is still an unexplained mystery. May the inventor be condemned to have it for an eternal drink!

The food given us baffles all attempt at description. The filthy messes of soup, salt-junk and burnt rice were boiled in the same huge caldron, and the sight of the dirty cook added to one taste of the unknown compound, called by some familiar name calculated to deceive us, was enough to make one eager to die of starvation. It was so pleasant, just before dinner, to be ordered below to await our turn in the long line, and on the way down, catch a glimpse of the cabin table, covered with delicacies fresh from the Boston markets, and when our company was called, to ascend from the depths of the vessel, cup in hand, eager for the sumptuous repast doled out from the great boiler, which, like the magician's flask, furnished tea, coffee, soup, etc., as desired. Yet all this was on a first-class transport;—may heaven take pity on the poor wretches whose hard fate consigns them to vessels of an inferior class!

After strenuous exertions by our colonel and some good friends of the regiment in the city, another steamer, the "Saxon," was provided for the 46th, and our own vessel underwent a partial cleansing. We were also visited by some of the more enterprising of our friends, who ventured down the harbor in a tug during the lulls of the storm, and having received an invoice of lanterns, books and eatables, we were enabled to make ourselves rather more comfortable.

We embarked on Wednesday, and on the following Monday, accompanied by the "Merrimac," "Saxon," and the gun-boat "Huron," we steamed down the harbor just at sunset, overjoyed at the prospect of a quick voyage and a speedy release from our uncomfortable quarters. Two or three of us had, in the course of our wanderings, discovered a cosy little nook in the extreme stern of the vessel, in close proximity to the screw, and here, away from the forlorn, grumbling crowd, which thronged the decks and holds, with our lanterns, books and cards, we managed to while away the weary hours quite pleasantly.

The storm had completely exhausted itself, and the weather was all that could be desired; and though the slowness of our consort, the "Huron," delayed us somewhat, yet after we were once fairly started on our way, nothing occurred to mar the voyage, and on Friday morning, the 14th instant, the lights of Beaufort harbor were visible, and our trials on shipboard were at an end. Our decks were crowded with a happy company, and an exciting race ensued between the "Mississippi" and the "Merrimac," for the pilot-boat which lay off the entrance of the harbor, awaiting our approach; but, to the chagrin of our captain, and in fact of us all, the "Merrimac" came out ahead, and having been boarded by the pilot, proceeded slowly in advance, the "Mississippi" following closely in her wake, without delaying for a second pilot.

It was a perfect morning, and the soft, fresh breeze was very different from the cold wintery blasts we had left behind us in Boston harbor. Every object visible was scanned with curious eyes as we entered the bay and began to thread the channel, rendered very intricate by the low sand-bars which lay in every direction. These were covered with sea-fowl of every description, while the myriads of ducks which blackened the water, made us wish for gun and dog with unceasing and unsatisfied longing.

Two or three gun-boats were riding at anchor in the harbor, and their sides were lined with a row of bronzed faces, whose owners cheered us heartily as we passed slowly by. Fort Macon, of Burnside fame, soon made its appearance on our left, its guns commanding both land and water in all directions, and its ramparts dotted with the garrison who welcomed us as we drew near. The fort is apparently on an island, but is really on the point of a long neck of land running back for some miles before uniting with the main. It has been greatly strengthened since it came into our hands, and, in conjunction with the gun-boats, bids defiance to any foe.

Beaufort lies on the opposite side of the harbor, and presents a very pretty appearance as seen at a distance from the water, but does not improve on a closer acquaintance. The attention is immediately attracted by a large white building standing on the very edge of the water, resting under the shadow of the Stars and Stripes. Formerly the hotel of the place and the summer resort of North Carolinians, it no longer echoes to the tread of the Élite of Newbern, but as a government hospital is filled with the poor fellows parched with the fevers which all summer infest the sand-plains on the Neuse, and who doubtless enjoy the cool breezes from the Atlantic, and the delicious sea-bath quite as much as those who formerly thronged the place.

Soon the depot came in sight, and there stood the long train of platform cars, waiting to convey some of us to our destination. The idea of spending another night on the water was almost unendurable, but suddenly we perceived quite a commotion on the decks of our leader, and to our great delight it was soon evident that she was aground. Feeling our way, as it were, step by step, we drew nearer, and a perfect yell of exultation went up from our vessel as we glided by our discomfited rival, and, rejoicing over our victory, steamed alongside the wharf of what was once the Atlantic and North Carolina Railroad, but now is known as the United States Military Railroad.

We were quickly disembarked, and soon closely packed on the open freight cars, rather a novel mode of conveyance to most of us, but one to be recommended as admirably adapted to sight-seeing, and in pleasant weather both airy and agreeable. Leaving the 43d and 46th to pass another night on shipboard, our train was soon on its way to Newbern, distant about forty miles. Our first stop was at Morehead City, though why called "city" it would be hard to say, as it contains but a few miserable houses and a forlorn-looking hotel, famous as the residence, for a time, of Company C of the 45th, who were quartered there as garrison. Every little while a picket-station would come in view, and now and then a camp whose occupants greeted us with shouts of welcome and inquiries as to our State, number of our regiment, latest news, etc. A blockhouse commanding the bridge over a small creek was a novelty, and, as long as daylight lasted, we found enough that was new and interesting to keep our eyes fully occupied. The country itself through which the road passes is wholly devoid of interest—in fact, a vast swamp covered with pine forests, which extend over a great part of the eastern section of the state; tar, pitch and turpentine being correctly given by the geography as among the principal productions.

It was quite dark when the train drew near the town of Newbern, and slowly crossing the long bridge which spans the river Trent, passed up what we afterwards discovered to be Hancock street, lighted, to our great astonishment, with gas. We finally came to a halt before a long freight-house, where a quantity of oats was stored in bags. This building was assigned to the right wing as their quarters for the night, and after our cramped bunks on shipboard, we found the oat-bags very acceptable. The left wing passed the night in some vacant tents near at hand.

As we were decidedly cold and hungry after our ride, the arrival of some of the 44th Mass., with pails of hot coffee, was very opportune, and we regaled them with the latest news from home in return for their kindness. Their description of the hardships endured on the Tarboro' expedition, from which they had just returned, did not tend to heighten our already very far from pleasant impressions of North Carolina as a place of abode.

As we were taught the productions of North Carolina in our youth, the negro stood first on the list, and certainly we had seen no reason to belie that statement. We had not ceased laughing from the time we landed, at the comical figures which met us on every hand. It was the first object to meet our eye at the wharf, and I doubt not the last thing visible as we left the shores of Beaufort on our return. We no longer wondered where the minstrels at the north procured their absurd costumes; here was material for an endless variety. It was better than any play simply to walk about and examine the different styles of dress, for this was before anything had been done at the north for the contrabands, and they appeared in the rags they had brought from their plantations. It was amusing to listen to the questions which greeted them from all sides, the bright answers often displaying more sense than did the questions. Some of our men seemed to have taken it for granted that all the tales they had read of the horrors of slavery were the general rule, and that the great aim and object of every master's life was to abuse and maltreat the slave in every possible way. The erroneous and absurd notions at first entertained by them of the state of southern society, could only be equalled by the opinions of our southern friends about the north. One question asked will serve as an illustration. We were grouped around a fire that first night, talking with some bright little contrabands, when one of our number asked one "If his master ever let him stand by such a nice fire as that," which in that land of pines certainly was rather ridiculous, and, for a Boston boy, rather an insult to his bringing up.

We employed the two or three hours of leisure the next morning in a tour of inspection through the town. With our eyes still dazzled with the bright effulgence of the New England metropolis, and unaccustomed to the darkness of that benighted land, we unhesitatingly pronounced it the meanest, dirtiest spot we had ever set foot in. But it did not take many weeks of camp life, where the only houses visible were the barracks and a few miserable negro hovels, to create a very decided change in our views upon this subject, as well as on many others of like nature.

The town is very prettily situated at the confluence of the Neuse and Trent, the former between one and two miles wide at this point, the latter something less than a mile. It is laid out quite regularly and abounds in elms and flower gardens, many of them very beautiful, and relieving the otherwise ugly streets. We became better, in fact most intimately, acquainted with the place when we were quartered there, and a more minute description will be found further on. Our first impressions received that morning were, however, certainly the reverse of pleasant.

Camp Amory on the Trent, Dec. 1862.
A Bunk in the Barracks.