Our camp, which we left so unceremoniously to go to Gum Swamp, was situated on a large plantation, about a mile and a half south of Newbern, and an eighth of a mile from the Neuse. It was but a few rods from the railroad and just outside a long line of earthworks which we were to man in case of an attack from this quarter, they being the outer line of works in this direction.

We found that the pioneers had been at work during our absence, and the camp was already laid out in streets, and some of the tents pitched. They were A tents, eight feet square, and intended for four occupants, though owing to the liberal supply many had but three; however, no one was ever heard to complain of a superabundance of room. Sunday was anything but a day of rest, for, immediately after service, there was a general stampede for the deserted camps near by, to obtain flooring for the tents and materials for stockading them.

These stockades were walls about three feet in height, eight feet square, making a foundation for the tent, and largely increasing the room and convenience. They were built in every variety of style, some of logs, after the fashion of log-houses, others with rough clap-boards, pieces of boxes, in fact anything that would answer the purpose of a board, an extremely scarce article about camp. When the work was completed the streets presented a very motley appearance, no two being alike, the looks of each stockade varying according to the skill of the builder.

The hours of grief which this herculean task of stockading entailed upon the three unfortunates sheltered by our canvass, will not soon be forgotten. Our first sorrow was, finding on our return from up country, that our upright posts, the corner stones of our foundation, selected with the greatest care and discrimination, indeed, perfect gems in their way, and sawed off into proper lengths with much labor and a dull saw, were missing, actually gone. An undeniable judgment upon us for having found them on Sunday. This was, however, but the beginning of our sorrows. After many journeys back and forth between our tent and the old camps, sufficient materials were again collected on which to commence operations.

With careful measurement and seeming accuracy, the places for the uprights were marked and the holes dug. It is due to the soil of North Carolina to say that if there was one easy thing about stockading it was this same digging holes. It reminded us of our younger days, when the sand-heaps which lay before unfinished houses were the undisputed territory of the children of the neighborhood, and castles, caves, bridges and tunnels grew under the busy hands of the young builders. Our camp was located on a sandy plain, no doubt made expressly for digging holes, whether for posts or earthworks, it mattered not.

Having erected the posts, we next proceeded to make the walls of our house. First, the sutler had no nails, and we had to wait half a day for those. The company boasts two saws and three hatchets; you spend five minutes in going up and down the street in a vain attempt to borrow either the one or the other; they are all in use; you wait in idleness for ten minutes and try again. There is no need of wasting breath in making known your errand,—the unhappy owners of the coveted articles are visited on the average by some eight or ten applicants in as many minutes,—a look is sufficient.

At last you espy a saw lying idle, and immediately pounce on it and rush to your tent. Three sticks are sawed, and you are just getting your hand in when you are confronted by the injured man who indignantly demands his property, which you are constrained with a bad grace to deliver. The same scene is enacted with the hammer; and having spent as much time as a contractor would ask to build a house, the sides are at last completed and placed in position. The fact is undeniable,—they look very rough and unworkmanlike; however, we put the best foot forward, and the worst looking side at the back, where we flatter ourselves it will not be seen.

At length the frame is ready to receive the roof, and in an agony of doubts and fears, after some effort, we raise the tent to its place, and—find that our frame is too large for the tent, or, rather, the tent is too small for the frame; at all events, it is no go. However, by dint of pulling and twisting and sawing, we drag the refractory edges together, and with our tent-poles at an angle of forty-five degrees, and presenting a most unstable appearance, we enter our new abode in triumph. We have stockaded.

The old camp life of drill and guard was re-enacted here, with an additional task, by way of variety, entitled fatigue-duty, which was neither more nor less, than spending the day in the trenches, with a spade for a companion, an occupation on a hot summer's day the reverse of delightful. Battalion drills and company drills followed each other in quick succession, but as the one was early in the morning, and the other late in the afternoon, we had a good portion of the day to ourselves, and many were the shifts to fill up the long interval.

The customary occupation in the morning, when the weather permitted, was a swim in the Neuse. After morning drill, it was usually the way to go to guard-mounting and hear the band play. Then it was time to bathe, for we were obliged by orders to go in at ten, or thereabouts, and only once a day, but this increased the sport by bringing a good many into the water at the same time. Our road to the river lay directly past the regimental hospital, most beautifully situated in a grove of magnificent mulberry trees, as large as English elms, and so thick-leaved as to make a perfect shade tree. The hospital tent was pitched under one of them, the farm-house of the plantation being also occupied for a hospital; and near by was the quartermaster's building, while within a stone's throw stood Fort Spinola.

The fort was built directly on the river-bank, and commanded, with its black-mouthed cannon, both the river and the surrounding country for more than a mile in every direction. On our arrival at Camp Massachusetts, the fort was garrisoned by Co. G, of our regiment, who, having practiced heavy artillery drill at Fort Macon, were summoned to its defence in the early part of April, when an attack on the city was apprehended. Soon after our advent, Co. I returned from Fort Macon and took the place of Co. G at Fort Spinola, so that, after an interval of six months, the whole regiment was once more united under one command.

Just by the fort there was a long wharf, running into deep water, for the slope of the river-bed is very gradual, and this wharf was, so to speak, the headquarters of the bathers. Here were unlimited opportunities for swimming, diving, etc., while those who preferred shallower water had the whole river-bank to wade from. One of the men actually swam across the river one day, without making known his purpose. He not only reached the opposite side, but had started on his way back when he was picked up by a boat which was sent after him. As the river is fully two miles wide at this point, it was, to say the least, quite a swim.

The quartermaster's boat lay at this wharf, for all the light stores were brought from Newbern by water, the heavier ones coming in the cars. The boat was manned by a detailed crew, exempt from all other duty, but as the officers made frequent use of the boat to go to the city at all hours of the day and night, the position was no sinecure. We poor soldiers who were blessed with occasional furloughs to visit the great centre of attraction, were sometimes honored by an humble seat in the bow, for which we were duly grateful, being thereby saved a long and dusty walk.

As the season advanced, and the summer sun grew hotter and hotter, the blackberry vines, which grew in great profusion around the camp, began to exhibit a pleasing appearance of redness, which indicated a not distant day of ripeness. Hearing certain stories about a discovery which had been made in some fields not a great way off, two or three of us started out one day, dippers in hand, and, after a diligent search, were amply rewarded for our pains by a dish of delicious wild strawberries. Not content with this luxury, the colored people near by must needs bring round, just at dinner time, some nice ice-cream, and, compelled by the force of circumstances, we had a dessert of strawberries and ice-cream. We often repeated this experiment while the little red beauties were to be found, and before they had fairly disappeared another fruit had ripened.

The blackberries had passed from the red era, and acres upon acres were covered with the long trailing vines, thickly laden with the luscious fruit. There was a continuous feast among the regiments encamped in that neighborhood while the season lasted, and during that time it was our regular amusement to spend an hour or two daily in blackberrying,—a pleasant task, for a sure reward awaited us at the termination of our labors.

A favorite place to visit was the Newbern battle-field, some three miles below our camp, and one bright May morning some four or five of us started off for the day in that direction. Instead of taking the direct road which ran close by the camp, we determined to go down the river bank. Passing through the camp of the 1st North Carolina, colored, which, some time after, did such good service at Olustee, we lingered a moment to watch them drill. After admiring their powers of imitation, and, at the same time, enjoying some most ludicrous blunders, we soon found ourselves on the borders of the river.

The nature of the country was very different from what we had been led to expect, consisting of a series of bluffs and deep valleys, similar in formation to those on the Mississippi. As we approached the main line of earthworks, we found indications of rebel fortifications on these heights; old gun-carriages, sandbags, and all the debris of a deserted camp lay about in hopeless ruin. They had evidently feared we would approach by the river, and we soon came upon the remains of the blockade, consisting of sunken vessels, some of which had been raised and towed up to Newbern, thus opening the channel.

We followed a pleasant little path through the woods for some distance, catching occasional glimpses of the river through the trees, as it sparkled in the bright sunlight, and at length came out at the rebel earthworks, the scene of the battle when Newbern was won. The works extend from the west side of the railroad directly to the river's edge, where they terminate in a small fort which commands the river, and which we found filled with the ruins of camp equipage of every description abandoned by the rebels in their hurried flight.

The 8th Mass. were doing picket duty at this point, and apparently having a very easy time of it. As we had all explored the ground two or three times before, we hurried along the line of works till we struck the Newbern road, where, instead of turning back to camp, we set our faces southward, hoping to obtain a dinner at one of the houses which stand some way below the battle-field. Crossing the broad cleared space over which our troops had made their gallant charge, stopping a moment to examine the traces of rebel bullets in the trees and to marvel at the terrible havoc made by the shells among the pines, we soon reached a lane which led up to a house half hidden by the trees, where we determined to try our fortune.

The usual group of negro shanties stood on the lane, running over with little picaninnies, who gazed at us with wondering eyes. The owner of the house had gone to town to lay in a stock of provisions, but his wife gave us a cordial welcome and promised to do her best for us. We were soon summoned to what was to us a most luxurious repast; the mere fact of sitting down at a table was a pleasure, and the strangeness of our surroundings enhanced the enjoyment. Having taken our dessert in a mulberry tree, the thought of the battalion drill awaiting us at the end of our walk, hastened our departure from this quiet spot, which was a delightful contrast to the stir of camp-life, and seemingly far removed from every thought of war. The lameness of the master of the house had alone prevented him from joining the army, as most of his neighbors had done. We obtained an insight into southern life in this way, which was new and interesting, and returned to camp well pleased with our excursion.

On the 16th of May the regiment was reviewed by the division commander, General Palmer, who expressed much pleasure at the appearance of the men, and particularly admired the looks of the guns. It was the custom during the mild May evenings, for the singers to collect and give impromptu concerts, and very often the band played for an hour in the square in front of the colonel's tent, while on moonlight nights, as we lay awake in our tents, we could hear the mocking-birds in the grove by the hospital, making night melodious with their songs.

There were two picket-stations connected with the camp, one about a mile and a half down the river road, prolific with mosquitos and wood-ticks; the other, and by far the pleasanter, was at the railroad bridge which spanned a broad creek not far from camp. The duty at this spot was very light, and as the bridge was a covered one, it was in fact the coolest spot anywhere about camp, no small matter in that hot climate. Moreover, the band came there to practice morning and afternoon, having with commendable wisdom selected this cool, shady place for that purpose. The days grew hotter and hotter, and the drills proportionately shorter, and we all began to look forward with wistful longing to the day which should see us safely embarked for home.