Patrick's little gang had, of course, immediately slipped away when they saw what was coming.
This I think was about November 21. The entire army soon after arrived and took position behind the Rappahannock, a wide, undulating plain for the most part stretching between our lines and the river itself. Longstreet took the left and Jackson the right; the former's most important point being the stone wall and sunken road at the foot of Marye's Hill.
Looking back at the situation, it seems surprising that we did so little in the way of defensive field-works. The enemy in great masses were crowding the Falmouth Hills, and we knew intended to cross and strike us. But yet we contented ourselves with the little stone wall (which proved helpful), and two or three tiers of light trenchwork extended on the slope of the hill behind and on our left.
The like observation applies to Jackson, whose lines were above the same as ours in strength, except the stone wall.
Later in the war such a fault could not have been found. Experience had taught us that to win, we must fight; and that fighting under cover was the thing to keep up the army and beat the enemy. He knew it, too, and practised it, so later on veterans no sooner got to facing each other than they began to dig, if ever so little; a little trench, a tiny hillock is often a very helpful defense and protection.
The march to Fredericksburg in bad weather and over almost bottomless roads had caused great suffering to the men and some losses among the animals. It was then that Longstreet told his men of an expedient that as an old soldier he had often resorted to. "Rake," he sent word to the men, "the coals and ashes from your cooking fires and sleep on that ground; it will be dry and warm." And so it proved. Also, there being many barefooted men, "Take the rawhides of the beef cattle, killed for food; cut roughly for a moccasin-like covering for the feet, and there you are with something to walk in. "But this did not go. The foot-wear had nothing like soles of stiffening, and in the mud and icy slush of the Virginian roads the moist, fresh skins slipped about as if on ice. The wearers, constantly up or down, finally kicked them aside and took the road as best they could, barefooted or wrapped with rags or straw. Richmond did its best to supply, but there was always trouble for want of shoes. Great quantities were run in from England by blockade, but they were worthless, shoddy things that might be done for in a day's use. I once wore a pair of them, and in a single day of wet and mud the cheats came to pieces and developed bits of paper and odds of leather things, where should be good, strong, well tanned cow skin.
It is said that our friends, the enemy, across the lines fared badly as well in shoddy, and that too from their own neighbors and countrymen.
It was awfully nasty work getting down to that stone wall for giving orders or receiving information, the way swept by the enemy's volume of fire over every foot. Once at the wall it was fairly snug, but the coming back was still worse, and one drew a long breath on emerging safely from the deadly fusilade.
We could only manage it on foot by making short rushes from point to point, affording perhaps some little cover. It was on such a duty that my friend Lord King was killed. He was A. D. C. to McLaws, of the family of Kings of southern Georgia.
The ranking major-general of our corps was L. McLaws, his division made up of Georgians, Mississippians, and South Carolinians. He was an officer of much experience and most careful. Fond of detail, his command was in excellent condition, and his ground and position well examined and reconnoitered; not brilliant in the field or quick in movement there or elsewhere, he could always be counted on and had secured the entire confidence of his officers and men.