Soon after arriving at Port Royal, I paid a visit to Colonel Higginson's regiment, then encamped about four miles from Beaufort. Setting out on horseback in company with one of the superintendents, our ride took us along the banks of the Beaufort river, past cotton plantations, and through pleasant woods bright with the golden blossoms of the pines. Although it was early in February, we saw the negroes at work in the fields, 'listing' the ground--a process of breaking up the soil with hoes--while here and there a solitary palmetto stood, like a scarecrow, as if to warn away all invaders. We soon reached 'Camp Saxton,' which we found pleasantly situated near a large and magnificent grove of live oaks, just at the bend of the river, where a fine view is given of the winding stream, the harbor of Port Royal, and the low-lying islands in the distance. The grove, which is the handsomest on the islands, was formerly part of a plantation belonging to a master well known by his cruelty toward his slaves, and the tree which served as the whipping post is still pointed out. A short distance from the camp, by the river side, may be seen the remains of an old Spanish fort, built of oyster shells, and said to have been erected in the year 1637. To one accustomed to notice the sanitary appearance of camps, the neatness observable both in the streets and tents of 'Camp Saxton' was an agreeable surprise. Few camps in any department of the army are better policed, or present to the visitor such a general air of order and cleanliness as this first encampment of Colonel Higginson's regiment. As we enter one of the streets a company inspection of arms is going on, which displays to good advantage the proficiency of the colored soldier in the minutiae of his work. Soon after, we are summoned to witness a battalion drill, and my companion, who has been both an army officer and a 'Democrat,' is extravagant in his praise of the movements and evolutions of the troops. Before leaving the camp we visit the snug and comfortable hospital into which Yankee ingenuity has metamorphosed the upper story of an old ginhouse. The surgeon informs us that the most common disease in the regiment is _pneumonia_, and that, in order to guard as far as possible against this, he has the middle board of the tent floor taken up just at night, and a fire built on the ground, to remove the dampness. We are careful to make our exit at the proper place, as negro soldiers on guard observe unwonted strictness, and we hear of their having threatened to shoot the commanding general himself for attempting to pass out at some other than the regular passage way.