We Stay Awhile in Plymouth.
Nov. 20. All the troops, with the batteries, wagons, horses, mules and negroes, have been sent around to Newbern by boats, and we alone are left to garrison the town till further orders. In the meantime it would be agreeable to have a change of clothing. When we left Newbern, we left behind us our traveling satchels, with all our best clothes, taking nothing except what we had on, which is now in a very dirty and dilapidated condition with no chance to get any. The major seems to take a great pride in his regiment, but I really cannot see why he should take much in such a ragged, dirty, lousy set of vagabonds as we are, but anyway he does, and naturally likes to take us out for dress parade and show us up to the naval officers, of whom there are quite a number stationed here. In this he sometimes gets a little set back, when about half the boys appear out without any shirts on. At this he will mildly remonstrate, but will be told their shirts are out being washed, and they appear out with their blouses for shirts, with their pants and suspenders outside. This thing continued for a few nights, until the major became so disgusted he swore a big swear that he wouldn’t have another dress parade until we had some shirts. That of course made the boys feel proper bad, and they said if that was the case, they would vote never to have any. Plymouth is a small but rather pretty town, situated on the south bank of the Roanoke river, about five miles up from the sound. It is a half shire town of Washington county, and contains two churches, two hotels, U. S. custom house, court house and jail, but no school-house. It has been a place of considerable trade, doing a good coasting business and exporting, large quantities of cotton, corn, shingles, lumber, fish and naval stores. There are some Union people about here, who appear to be nice sort of folks, but nearly all of secesh proclivities are away.