Ship Island, Mississippi.
Prospects of Ship Island by tomorrow mor-
ning. Presents of champagne from Herbert. An
evening scribbling in the cabin. A. G. Hills ner-
vously miserable about his letter to the Boston
Journal: he well for the first day since the be-
ginning of the voyage. Hamilton reads his letter
aloud to us. An irruption of fellows; whiskey,
talk, singing. Subsequently wrote a private let-
ter to Gay, telling him what I had learnt from
Herbert; the plans to bring Texas back into the
Union which Gen. Hamilton and his party hoped
and believed that the Banks expedition was de-
signed to carry out. These I got in confidence,
nor were they to be published unless hereafter.
13. Saturday. Ship Island, Mississippi.
A long curvalinear island of fine white sand,
perhaps seven miles in extent, its eastern end
rendered picturesque with live oaks and cedars,
its surface intersected with sandy ravines and
ditches, a bayou almost dividing it, and on
the western extremity a few palms and a scanty
growth of coarse grass. A fort commanding
the only channel by which the harbor can be
approached, and, to the east, a lighthouse.
Half a dozen buildings of the sutler�s store
order, all extemporized during the war. Ves-
sels arriving, crowded with soldiers; I count-
ed sixteen of them. Gen. Banks and Gen.