Troops were arriving at this camp from the South every day; and as fast as they were organized or suitably provided with arms and clothing, they were shipped on the cars, which ran right by the grounds, to the Rebel Army at Manassas or thereabouts. I was always glad to see the trains stop to load up some of the troops for the North, because I felt, every time I saw it, that our turn to go would soon come, and I should soon be at the front again, from whence I could easily skip over the line into Washington City.
The time, during these days, was usually occupied in a daily routine of military life. Officers and men occupied comfortable quarters at Camp Lee, in the barracks. There was a roll-call every morning, a very good breakfast, then a couple of hours' drill at the one old iron cannon, which was all that the entire camp possessed. Each of the sections took turns at this one piece. So it was, that, between us all, we managed to keep it hot pretty near all day. This drill was a regular circus. As the gunner, I did not have very much exercise. Lanyard, who stood by me, and I, had so much fun together over the two big Irishmen, who would so violently ram home the imaginary charges of powder and ball and swing the big swab around as wildly as if it was a little shilleleh. Fatty, the Virginia refugee, whose place was across from us, was full of fun himself, and kept us all amused by his antics during the drill—holding his fingers to his ears and winking and jumping as if a charge had actually been fired and the rebound was dangerous. The two big Irish brothers were always in a sweat and swearing at the disguised "juke," because he was so dignified in his bearing that he could not be made to see the necessity of rushing frantically from the limber, holding an imaginary cartridge in his hand. It, perhaps, seemed too absurd for a man of his dignity, age and clumsy bearing to be compelled to run around the gun holding out his empty hands, as if carrying a ten-pound shot in them, which he was supposed to deliver in like imaginary manner.
My duty was to sight the piece, and I learned to get that part of the drill down so fine that I was able, on short notice, to hit the same knot-hole in the fence, twenty feet distant, every time.
The number of Yankees that we killed with that gun—in imagination—far outnumbered all that were afterward slaughtered by all of General Alexander's Rebel Artillery. The Captain somehow got a notion that I was the only person in the company who could use pen and ink. This was not very complimentary to the rest of the company, because I've not, in all these years, learned how to write properly; but I was, in consequence, detailed as a company clerk, or as a private secretary to the Captain, and from this assignment, until we took the field, I had what is vulgarly called—a snap.
I was quartered thenceforth in the Captain's room, except when off duty, when I would quickly join the Colonel and Lanyard in their barracks. My duties were not at all onerous; on the other hand, I became relieved from all details for drill guard, police duty, and a hundred and one other little "turns" that catch everybody in the ranks, both in the Rebel and Union armies. It was my business to do all the company's clerical work: I filled out requisitions for commissary supplies, kept the roster, made a daily report for the Captain to somebody who was the General in command at the camp at that time.
One day the Captain notified the men, as we were at evening roll-call, that he had engaged a doctor for the exclusive benefit of the company, who would accompany us as our surgeon. Everybody was glad to hear this, as we had experienced a good bit of sickness already while in camp. The Captain wound up his speech with the incidental observation that a dollar or two would be retained from each man's pay to compensate this private surgeon. There was surprise, and the parade was dismissed and the men reassembled to growl. Big Mike then took a turn at making a speech, inciting rebellion against the Captain's arbitrary orders. It resulted in a regular Irish row upon the Captain ordering Mike's arrest and imprisonment in the guard-house. Before we got through with it, the whole of the bold refugees were under the guns of some of the other troops, that had been called upon to quell the disturbance.
It was lots of fun to Fatty and Lanyard, but for my part I'd rather get into a real battle than to become mixed up in an Irish fist fight.
There were some horses in camp belonging to the several officers who were quartered out there. Our Captain had his own, a finely-bred animal, which he rode to town and back every day. On account of the deformity of his limbs or hips, it was necessary that he should be almost lifted into the saddle, which was made of a particular shape suited to him. Because of this necessity for having someone always with him, I was selected by the Captain, with whom I had become a favorite, to accompany him nearly every day on a second horse. He almost always rode straight to the War Department, and I went along with him as far as I could. In this way I was able to keep up safely my silent watch on the Rebel War Office, rarely missing a day during our stay in Camp Lee on which I did not get to town with the Captain.
My gray uniform had been neatly fitted by the "juke," and my way of wearing my blouse coat-tails tucked inside my trousers had so pleased the Captain that he had ordered every man to wear his clothes as I did. This style of dress gave me a sort of Garibaldi appearance, and I fancy that, as I rode my horse fairly well, from an early training in Western Texas, I made a pretty creditable appearance on the streets of Richmond as a Rebel soldier boy.
It was in this disguise that, I may safely assert, I openly visited every single point of interest in and around Richmond.