Diary of David L. Day.

Sunday, July 5. Like most other Sabbaths in the army, so was this; all day busy cleaning up the camp ground, tearing down the board shanties which former occupants had erected and using the material for flooring in our tents. We had our Fourth of July dinner today; bean soup, hoe cake and lemonade. Hill’s Point is not a point in the river, as the stream here runs straight, but is a bluff some 25 feet higher than the river and about 20 rods wide. It is the terminus of the table-land beyond, and is formed by wide, deep ravines on either side which run back and soon ascend to the level of the table-land. Heretofore the enemy had a habit of running batteries down here and intercepting the boats coming up the river, forming a sort of blockade, causing our gunboats to waste right smart of ammunition, or necessitating the marching of troops across the country from Newbern to drive them out. During the siege last spring, they had a powerful battery here which caused Gen. Foster a heap of trouble. Since then he has occupied it himself. This is an intrenched camp, sporting three brass six-pounder field pieces. When or by whom these works were built is to me unknown, but they look like the work of the enemy. They contain a great number of angles; commencing on the edge of the bluff next the river, they run several rods along the edge of the ravines, then cross in front of the camp, and from any part of the line can be got direct, cross and enfilading fires. The three guns are in battery on the flanks and center. Major Atwood is in command, and in his absence, Capt. Foss of company F. Such is a description of our present, abiding place.