The battle of Fredericksburg was at hand. I need not describe it,
except to say that from Howison’s Hill, afterwards known as Lee’s
Hill, where Generals Lee and Longstreet and their staffs remained
for a considerable part of the day, there was a magnificent view of
as grand a spectacle as one could desire to see in war. I was there
soon after daybreak, and as the mist of the morning cleared away
we could easily make out the enemy’s movements. Large bodies of
troops had already crossed the Rappahannock, and the fields near it
were blue with Yankees. On the opposite shore were the long trains
of wagons and ambulances, together with the reserve artillery. A
30-pound Parrot gun which we had was ordered to open on the enemy,
and very soon the artillery fire became brisk. Fredericksburg,
which had been so calm and peaceful in the early light, was set
on fire by the enemy’s shells. The enemy now made a fierce attack
on our right, which was repulsed with comparative ease. It was
thrilling to watch the long line advance, note the gaps in the
array, as the wounded fell or else staggered to the rear, and
see the gallant remnant melt away like snow before our withering
fire. At Marye’s Hill, which was the key to our position, the most
desperate fighting was done. Again and again the enemy charged,
only to be driven back with terrible slaughter. There it was that
Meagher’s Brigade made its historic charge. The field in front of
the hill, beyond the road, was well called the slaughter-pen. The
enemy lay there in their ranks, as they had fallen, and the fence
was riddled like a sieve by the rifle bullets. I had a very narrow
escape. Standing in a group with three other officers watching the
action, a shell exploded near us and bruised or wounded everyone of
my companions. I was not touched.
Late at night I returned to camp, and crept into a wagon to take a
quiet sleep, placing my coat, cap and trousers under my head, in
the front part of the wagon. In the morning my coat was missing,
and the natural conclusion was that it had been stolen. Such things
did happen. Looking about rather disconsolately, and wondering how
I was to replace the missing garment, I saw some buttons and shreds
of gold lace lying on the ground. The thieves were discovered. It
was the wretched mules, who had unceremoniously dragged my clothes
out of the wagon and chewed up my uniform coat, in place of the
long forage, the hay or fodder, which they craved. The mules, at
this time, were fed on corn almost exclusively; and their desire
for rough food, as it was called, led them frequently to gnaw the
poles of the wagons. These poles on this account were protected in
many cases by strips of iron, which rendered them impervious to
even the teeth of a mule. I was in a sad dilemma, of course, and
was laughed at for my pains. Fortunately, I succeeded in buying a
coat, which answered my purposes until I reached Petersburg, in the
spring.
The army was now into winter quarters, the men making themselves as
comfortable as they could. Snow-balling was a favorite amusement,
and was carried on in grand style, brigade challenging brigade
to a sham fight. These contests were very exciting, and were the
source of great amusement to the men. Practical jokes, too, were
frequently played upon the officers. Mrs. Longstreet was staying
at a house a mile or two from our head-quarters, and General
Longstreet rode over there every evening, returning to camp in
the morning. On his way he passed through the camp of the Texas
Brigade of Hood’s Division, and was frequently saluted with a
shower of snow-balls. For some time he took it with his usual
imperturbability, but he grew tired of the one-sided play at last,
and the next time that he was riding by the Texans, and found them
drawn up on the side of the road, snow-balls in hand, he reined up
his horse, and said to them very quietly, “Throw your snow-balls
men, if you want to, as much as you please; but, if one of them
touches me, not a man in this brigade shall have a furlough this
winter. Remember that!” There was no more snow-balling for General
Longstreet’s benefit.
The officers at our head-quarters had a less innocent amusement
than pitching snow-balls. The great American game of poker
was played nearly every night. One of the most successful of
the gamesters was Major Walton, who was a kinsman of General
Longstreet, through whose influence he had received an appointment
in the Commissary Department. He really did general staff duty.
At one sitting Walton won $2,000 or more from Dr. Maury, who was
one of the Surgeons of the corps; and he caused much unfavorable
comment by sending to Dr. Maury for his winnings before that
gentleman was out of bed in the morning. There was hard drinking
as well as high playing; and it was reported that at the close of
one debauch General Longstreet had played horse with one of the
stronger officers of his staff, who on all-fours carried Longstreet
around and around the tent until the pair of them rolled over on
the ground together.
The head-quarters of General Lee were in the woods, and far from
luxurious. He was advised by his physicians to stay in one of
the houses near by, as many of his officers were doing, but he
declined to fare any better than his men did. There was no pomp or
circumstance about his head-quarters, and no sign of the rank of
the occupant, other than the Confederate flag displayed in front of
the tent of Colonel Taylor, the Adjutant-General.
It may not be out of place to mention the scale of prices that
prevailed in the Confederacy towards the close of the year 1862,
as I gave them in a letter to my mother: Shoes $30 a pair; common
calico shirts $10 each; socks $1 a pair; butter $2 a pound; turkeys
$15 each; matches 50 to 75 cents a box; ink 25 cents a bottle;
blacking $1 a cake; writing paper $2 a quire.