The same day we recrossed Hatcher's Run, and began the construction of permanent works on that side. We worked by reliefs, three hours on duty and three off. We had run out of provisions, and a fresh supply failed to arrive. The men became dissatisfied, and finally refused to work. Threats of compelling them to work were made. The men answered by gathering up their guns and starting for the woods, in the rear. At this point General Warren came down and spoke to the men in a reasonable manner. The mere fact of his coming among them had a good effect on the men. He urged the necessity of the work, and told them that if provisions were not on hand by a given time, he would consent to their ceasing from work. The men then went to work cheerfully.
Jack M'Bride and myself had previously solved, in a measure, the difficult problem of reconciling the conflicting claims of an empty stomach and the vigorous prosecution of the war. As night came on, we retired some distance into the woods, built a fire, and made ourselves comfortable. The next morning we found a piece of pork, which had been lost or thrown away three or four days before. It was good. We scraped the mud from it carefully, and ate it with a relish. We then came back and went to work with the rest.
After these works had been completed, we moved some distance down Hatcher's Run, to a small branch of that stream, called Arthur's Creek. Our position was on the left flank of the army, facing rather toward the rear. For the third time this winter we built winter-quarters. Our camp was pleasantly located, fronting a large farm, in the rear woods. Brigade and division headquarters were in the woods, our picket-line in the open ground beyond the farm-house, a mile from camp.
On the 7th of February, the next day after the fight near Dabney's Mill, I got a Spencer rifle, and kept it until we were mustered out. The spiral spring of the magazine was damaged in some way, so that it would receive only four or five cartridges, instead of seven. I repaired it by taking the spring out entirely. It would then receive nine or ten, and a little practice made the experiment a success.
Duty was light, and our main business was amusing ourselves. For in-door amusement, euchre was the favorite. There was not much gambling, but many fine points were settled by "best three out of five." One form of out-door amusement was the following: A peg was driven into the ground, and to this were fastened two ropes, fifteen or twenty feet long. Two men were then blindfolded, and placed one at the end of each rope, on opposite sides of the peg. To one was given a notched stick, about two feet long; and also another, to rub over it, making a scraping sound. He was called the "scraper." To the other was given a pant-leg, or something of this kind, stuffed with paper or rags. He was called the "pounder," and it was his business to "pound" the scraper, if he could. They were each required to keep hold of his rope. The boys would sometimes stand around a circle of this kind by the hour, and watch the fun. The two would move about with catlike caution, each listening for the other. Sometimes the pounder would think he had the other, sure; and, listening most earnestly, anticipated triumph shining from his face, he would bring his weapon down on nothing. Again, the scraper, thinking the pounder, who was right beside him, was far away, would rest the end of his notched stick on the ground, and draw the other along it, "scrape-scrape," when down would come the pant-leg on his head, followed by shouts of laughter from the audience.
The soldiers built a large tent for religious meetings, and a revival of extraordinary interest took place during our stay here. The noble Christian young men who did this work remember those meetings with satisfaction now, whether they are on earth or in heaven. They conducted them without the aid of a minister. No! they themselves were ministers of God, anointed from on high for this work.
Some of the conversions were remarkable. One young man, whom I had known as a brave, fearless fellow, was converted during a meeting of peculiar power. The change was plain and evident to all. His handsome face was continually bright with the peace of God. He fell in battle, March 31st, and died in the arms of his comrades, who were trying to carry him back when our line was broken and routed.
As Spring drew near came the reviews and various movements that indicate the approach of active operations. Some changes were made in the brigade. It now consisted of the fragments of three Pennsylvania regiments, the One Hundred and Ninetieth, One Hundred and Ninety-first, and One Hundred and Fifty-seventh; two Delaware regiments, now consolidated into one, and the Two Hundred and Tenth Pennsylvania. The latter was a one-year regiment, and almost as large as the rest of the brigade. They were a fine body of men, reliable and well-drilled. There were but five commissioned officers in the One Hundred and Ninetieth. Colonel Pattee and Adjutant Wright, Captain Birkman, Lieutenants Coleman and Peacock. Captain Birkman had charge of Companies A, B, and C. The One Hundred and Ninetieth and One Hundred and Ninety-first acted together as one regiment, under command of Colonel Pattee. The fragment of the One Hundred and Fifty-seventh—not more than forty or fifty men—was regarded as a part of the One Hundred and Ninety-first.
We held this little band in high esteem. They were heroes, every man of them. Captain Carter was in command. We were the Third Brigade, Second Division, Fifth Corps.