From November 8th to the 12th, nothing of unusual interest occurred, our time being taken up in drill, and in other necessary duties connected with camp-life. November 13th, the entire regiment was ordered to be in readiness the following morning, for picket duty, with two days' rations. The appearance of the sky, the night of the 12th, was threatening, making us already feel, in imagination, the discomforts of this duty in a storm, with no other shelter but the broad canopy of the heavens, excepting, perhaps, a paltry one of bushes, affording indeed but little protection from the pitiless storm.
The morning of the 13th came; the roll of drums at six o'clock, aroused many a drowsy soldier of the Twelfth from his humble couch, and interrupted many a pleasant dream of home, to awake him to the stern reality of other duties and associations. It did, indeed, rain in the night, which proved a benefit to us, raining just enough to lay the dust. The morning broke upon us with the assurance of a pleasant day. With cheerful hearts and willing hands, we began our preparations. We took breakfast at the usual hour, half-past seven, filled our haversacks with beef and hard crackers, our canteens with water, strapped our blankets about us, buckled on our equipments, and at eight o'clock, formed in line in the Company Street, and at half-past eight, the different companies passed Gen. Wright's head-quarters. The regiment was formed for "guard-mounting," directly in front of his residence, went through the man[oe]uvres, listened to the music from the Brigade Band, (which, by the way, discoursed finely,) and at quarter to nine, filed into the road, and taking the direction of Fairfax Court House, were fairly on our way. Every thing was favorable; a cool breeze from the north-west, adding to our comfort, as we "marched along." We were accompanied by nearly all our officers, a few being left behind, as is customary, to protect our camp. After passing Cloud's Mills, and ascending the hill beyond, we came to a halt, and the regiment was divided into parties of 108 privates, each division to be commanded by their respective officers. These divisions are called "supports," and numbered first, second, third, &c.
As soon as our "support" was formed, we continued our march. Passed the road leading to Bailey's Cross Roads, kept along on the direct road to Fairfax Court House, for about a mile beyond this turn, then filing to the left, entered the woods, followed a cart-path for about half a mile, and at eleven, A. M., found ourselves at the end of our journey. There were plenty of good shelters where we were to encamp, already erected by those there before us, and gladly vacated by the Twenty-Seventh New Jersey, who turned out to receive us upon our arrival. Our "support" was immediately divided into three "reliefs," of 36 men each. Each "relief" to stay on four hours, the first going on to be relieved by the second, &c., giving each "relief" eight hours rest at the general rendezvous. The "reliefs" were arranged in two ranks, and numbered as they stood, from right to left, each man to remember the number assigned him, and when called upon, place himself in the ranks accordingly. I found myself in the first "relief," number 21, armed and equipped as the law directs.
As soon as our "relief" was formed, we started for our posts, marched back to the road we had just left, continued on half a mile farther, and came upon Post No. 1. This post was on the main road, and close by the ruins of what was once a large building, destroyed, probably, since the war commenced, nothing being left now but a mass of brick and stone. Upon relieving this post, we left the road, which here runs nearly east and west, and struck across the fields towards the south, for Post No. 2.
The posts were perhaps thirty rods apart; three men being stationed on each post, and one sergeant or corporal, in charge of every three posts. The first three men, as numbered in the ranks before starting from the rendezvous, to take the first post, the next three the second, &c. The orders were for one man to remain at the post, while the other two were to move to and from the post, in opposite directions, a certain distance, or perhaps farther, occasionally, if the sentinel from the posts adjoining, should fail to meet him at the end of his beat, thereby keeping up communication throughout the entire line. The men to have their pieces loaded, and bayonets fixed, with particular instructions to be on the alert, to build no fires, light no matches, smoke, nor indulge in loud conversation.
The line of pickets ran nearly north and south, the first "support" being on the right of the line, commenced in the vicinity of Bailey's Cross Roads, and connected with the second "support," at Post No. 1. The line of our "support" ran from the main road, towards the railroad, the distance between the two, at this place, being perhaps one and a half miles, our "support" reaching two-thirds of the way to the railroad, there to connect with the third, and so on to the last "support," our regiment guarding a line of several miles in length. Our path led over level spaces, up and down hills steep as the roof of a house, along side hills where it required the greatest care to preserve our equilibrium, through tangled thickets of bush and brier, and over every conceivable obstacle in the shape of stump, stone, bog, &c. The place falling to my lot, to help guard for the next forty-eight hours, was Post No. 7, just in the edge of a grove of small evergreen trees, on the side of a hill, overlooking what must have been once a large farm, situated in a valley opening to the south, and enclosed on three sides by woods. Our post was on the eastern side of this clearing; the hill on the opposite side, rising to about the same height, was covered with a heavy growth of timber, affording a good shelter for sharpshooters, if they had happened to have been in the vicinity, and had been disposed to annoy us. The distance across this clearing being about one-third of a mile, a good distance for rifle practice.
This clearing was perhaps fifty rods in width, and nearly one-third of a mile in length, bounded on the north by a swamp, and opening to the south upon a vast plain of bog, with here and there a bunch of stunted trees or bushes. Quite a large stream issues from this swamp, and runs the entire length of the farm, emptying into a larger one, which runs into the Potomac, along the valley through which the railroad runs from Alexandria to Manassas. The ruins of a large farm-house lay in the valley to the left of us. I will not omit a description of the "beat" over which your humble servant kept watch and ward, until every foot of ground became familiar to him. The path alongside this clearing had been lately cut through, without much regard to convenience of travelling, or risk of life or limb, the stumps sticking up invariably from three to six inches from the ground, requiring the utmost care on our part, especially in the night time, or the privilege of trying, if we chose, the sharpness of these stubs, upon various parts of our body, or the hardness of our heads against the trees by the wayside, experiments in tripping and plunging not likely to find favor with your humble servant.
We were very fortunate in having pleasant weather again for this duty. We took our posts at twelve, unslung our blankets, haversacks and canteens, and loaded our pieces. We were relieved at four o'clock, and arrived at the rendezvous in time to make our coffee before dark, eat our supper, spread our blankets and turn in.
Slept soundly, and at midnight, when we were again called upon, marched to our posts, to remain there till four o'clock. The night was warm and pleasant; the moon was just rising as we took our posts, which made our duty much easier; our four hours passed quickly by, we were relieved again, and at half-past four were again at the rendezvous. We had anticipated having another nap before breakfast, and were getting ready to turn in, when we were ordered to form in line and stand until sunrise. Our colonel represented it as necessary, to guard against surprise; as the enemy usually make attacks at this hour—a watchfulness much to be commended, in the vicinity of the enemy, but as our picket was of importance only as a guard to intercept deserters and stragglers from our army in front, we, with our sleepy eyes, could not see the point. Many of the men, without much deference to the opinion of our brave colonel, thought it simply ridiculous; some cursed, others laughed and joked. I did not regret losing my nap, as I was amply repaid, listening to the witticisms of the party. Morning broke at last, and we were relieved. We kindled our fires anew, made our coffee, and after breakfast some of us turned in to sleep; others played cards, or amused themselves as they chose, until twelve, when we took our posts again. The weather continued fine, and we passed the time pleasantly.
Another night passed; another pleasant day opened upon us, nothing remarkable occurring in connection with our duties, unless we except a visit from General Casey, who rode along the line, accompanied by his staff, on a tour of inspection. At eleven o'clock, A. M., the 15th, we formed in line to receive the new guard, and by twelve our last relief was in, and we started for camp. We reached it about two, P. M., all of us in good spirits; found our dinner of soup and hot coffee waiting for us, to which we immediately paid our respects.