During two of the coldest, most disagreeable days and nights of that memorable winter, I bivouacked with our cavalry outposts, located on the river bank some distance below the town.
I was there for the purpose of watching a favorable opportunity to desert to the other side.
That I did not go, was not to be charged to a lack of facilities. I was not in a hurry; in fact, I was hoping against hope that the whole army would move. I, at last, concluded that I should have to make a demonstration to satisfy my friends, with whom I had talked it over.
The weather was so terribly cold and rough along that river bottom that, after a few days' experience, I felt it would be a relief to get over the river, alongside of the snug camp-fires of the Rebels, which seemed to beckon me over, as an ignis fatuus. The Confederates were allowed camp-fires all along their picket-lines. We were not even permitted to light a match.
The Rappahannock, at the point patrolled by our cavalry, was narrow and deep, the banks on either side being abrupt and covered in most places by a close undergrowth of willow. Directly opposite, and within speaking distance, were the Rebel pickets. Their outpost camp-fires were in a little grove of saplings, so close to the bank that, from our side, we could see their every movement at night by the light of their fires, and could count the number of men laying about on the ground. We imagined that we could hear their snores, so close were they. It seemed as if we were on guard over them.
When their fires would burn low, one of the number would crawl from under his blanket, stir up the embers, put on some more wood, and again lie down to sleep in perfect security. There was no firing on picket-lines at that time.
During the daytime there would frequently be a general exchange of agreeable, but sometimes sharp, words between the pickets.
On our side there was a general order prohibiting this communication, but, when the officers were not around, we talked more freely with the Rebels than we would have dared with the sentry on the beat adjoining our own.
It was only necessary to call "Johnny!" to get a quick "Hello," or if Johnny called first it was "Hello, Yank."
But little, if any, reliable information passes through the lines in this way. The pickets out on the line, as a rule, know less about their own army than anyone else. Of course a stranger, or even a soldier unknown to the officers, is not permitted on the line.