girls they had left behind them. The next day we buried our four boys
who were killed. They were Pat Martin, James Fessenden, Joseph E. Stone
and James Sullivan.

Of the four men killed in our company, I felt in only one a personal loss.
Jimmy Sullivan of Westboro, was an exceptional boy, two years my junior.
His was a light-hearted, joyous nature. He was the pet of the company and
without an enemy in it. How he was killed I never knew; from the advanced
position I occupied during the action it was impossible for me to know
what was going on in the company.

We remained in the rebs barracks three days, then went into camp in tents
on the south side of a large field stretching along the right bank of the
Trent River about a mile and a half from Newbern. That was not a bad place
and we enjoyed the time we stayed there very well. Up to that time we had
used the Sibley tent quite a little, a tent of the same form as the Indian
tepee and doubtless designed from it, but they have evidently been given
up, for from this time on we saw no more of them. The tents we were
supplied with there were the wall tent used by the officers, hospitals and
for commissary stores, and the small shelter tents for the men. The snakes
were rather thick and too neighborly to suit some tastes. It was not at
all uncommon to find one comfortably asleep in one's pocket or shoe as he
dressed in the morning, or sunning himself under the edge of the tent in
the afternoon, but they were not dangerous. I never heard of any one being
bitten by one of them.

A party of us boys built a trapeze and a vaulting bar, and started quite a
little interest in athletics and had a lot of good fun there.

We had been at Newbern but a few days when Miss Carrie Cutter, the
daughter of the surgeon died of spotted fever. She went south with us from
Annapolis to assist her father in the care of the sick and wounded men of
the regiment. She was a delicate girl of eighteen years and could not
withstand the exposure incident to army life. Her body was taken to
Roanoke Island and buried beside that of her friend, Charles Plummer
Tidd.

There was a good deal of sickness in the regiment at this time. The water
we drank was surface water: many of the boys had chills and fever and a
great deal of quinine and whiskey was taken. Some of the boys used to turn
out quite regularly and go up to the surgeon's tent for the quinine and
whiskey. Others of the fellows were unkind enough to