"Sir, I was sickened at the sight," said the rebel sergeant, "I dreaded to see them moving up without the slightest chance of success. The ground in range of our guns was covered with slaughtered men."
It was just as well for Co. G that the needs of the nation did not call them to charge those deadly hights. They were after glory but preferred it not quite so hot, and even had they won a fair installment of glory it would have been denied them. Seldom is that battle mentioned now. Great stories are told of Pickett's charge at Gettysburg, however, almost as famous and as hopeless as that of the six hundred at Balaklava—all brave men but needlessly slaughtered. Why should not Burnside's men at Fredericksburg be remembered with equal pride?
Men may decorate themselves with all the glitter of rank and strut with dignity through street and camp, and yet fail to prove themselves worthy of a command in time of great need. But the subordinate and the private soldier has but one way of showing his importance—strict obedience to orders from those above him, no matter whether the officer be a man or a manikin.
Co. G enlisted to do, or to die trying. They read newspapers and knew that Gen. Patterson failed to support McDowell at Bull Run; and the sacrifice of Col. Baker at Ball's Bluff by the neglect of Gen. Stone; the neglect of Sumner to support Heintzelman at Williamsburg; and that Fitz John Porter failed to succor Pope at the second battle of Bull Run. Co. G understood a number of things, and they gazed upon big general officers with awe. They had narrowly escaped the slaughter, but shared in the humiliation of the hour; feeling more comfortable, however, than did Gen. Burnside, who knew that the blunders were not all his own. Co. G were ready to support Burnside, to a man.
On the 17th of December the 11th Corps turned back from the Rappahannock and camped near Stafford Court House, traveling in a brisk snow storm over very soft roads. On the 18th they moved to a fine piece of timber some distance from Stafford and proceeded to build a permanent camp. Other troops occupied the ground before Co. G came, and had begun the work of laying up log huts.
In a few days the camp was quite habitable—with shelter tents for roofs, stone for fire-places and chimneys, laid in mud, with an occasional topping off with barrels. Co. G terraced the sloping ground where they made their beds, and were careful to keep their heads level. They cut the boughs of red cedar and laid them deep above the damp earth. The fire-places smoked inside as well as out, by the use of green oak for fuel, and the little dwellings, in fact, were considerably tainted thereby with an odor akin to that of soap-boiling, an abiding fragrance; and the eyes of the heroes were moist with tears while the oak was frying. Very wrong indeed it was, to throw blank cartridges down a fellow's chimney; and such capers were cut up in some of the companies, but not in G, who were dignified. The honor of Lenox rested, the easterly portion upon the shoulders of Co. B, with Co. G at the other end, and they carried it from their homes to the depths of Florida, and brought it back untarnished; unless critics wish to bring up chickens and such—but chickens do not count in affairs of honor.
For the first time since leaving Hamilton Co. G were short of rations. Hardtack was scarce for a while at Stafford and the thought itself is hungrifying. Piteous reports reached their homes and the good people there filled boxes with food and other comforts. And one day, soon after the holidays, the regimental teams brought in a car-load or two of boxes, long delayed on the road, and the abundance of army rations for a time, were neglected for better fare. To those fellows who received no boxes, was freely given by the more fortunate. In many instances the boxes were found rifled of much of the original contents,—a common occurrence. There were gangs of plunderers hanging about all army depots and landing-places, who were ever waiting for opportunities, and they would steal the food from the sick, rifle knapsacks of the living and the pockets of the dead, whenever possible. Many of those depraved creatures were enlisted men, and those of them who lived long enough, no doubt, became pensioners; consequently, heroic veterans. Yet Co. G were glad if the boxes only came, seeing in them lumber for small tables or doors.
The holidays were passed in this camp, with Col. Arrowsmith in command. Brown had been furloughed. A few of the boys were lucky to obtain fowls and hoe-cake, from the residents living near. In some of the squads they parched corn obtained of the teamsters, or battery-men. Money was very scarce and there was a tobacco famine. The poker-players used bills of broken banks and bills advertising Morgan's rifled cannon, or some business college. They had been mustered, but not paid.
One day a stray sutler stopped at the camp. He was a pleasant man and the boys patronized him freely, until the merchant discovered he was exchanging his goods for worthless paper. Col. Arrowsmith was appealed to, with no satisfaction, and the sutler moved along, sadly.
After that, for a time, tobacco was plenty in the camp. Those who had been smoking coffee or chewing a stick, now were willing to prosecute the war in earnest. The ginger-bread eaters were lively as crickets, but the stock of bad money was low.