After the brigade moved to Fairfax Court House, we did a great deal of picket duty down towards Alexandria and Washington City, close to the enemy's line. We were sometimes in sight of the dome of the capital, and could see the Yankees drilling on the high hills on the south side of the Potomac River. The Yankees often had a balloon up in the air, anchored by a long cable, at which a cannon shot would sometimes be fired, and a shot brought it down. This shot, I think, was fired by Lieut. Thos. L. Rosser, afterwards General Rosser. The principal picket posts were at Mason's, Munson's and Upton's Hill's, Falls Church, and near Annandale.
One night Company C, and a cavalry company commanded by Captain —— Carter, were on picket near Annandale, close to the enemy's line, when, about midnight, a squad of Company C, on outpost duty, came in to the reserve post, and reported that a body of cavalry was approaching along the road by which we had come from Centreville. It was at once conjectured that the Yankee cavalry had, by another road, flanked our position, gotten in the rear and was attempting to bag the Confederate pickets. Captains Clement and Carter made disposition of the two companies to give the enemy a warm reception. Company C was posted along the fence by the roadside, while Captain Carter formed his company in the field a short distance in the rear. Instructions were given to the men to let the cavalry approaching pass along the road until the head of the column reached the extreme right of our line, and then, at a signal from Captain Clement, to open fire on them, when Captain Carter and his company would charge; this was the plan and instructions in case the approaching horsemen proved to be, as was believed, Yankees.
The night was dark; objects could be distinguished only a few feet away. In silence we anxiously awaited the coming of the approaching cavalrymen, the noise of whose horses' hoofs we soon heard coming down the hill; the suspense was intense. Every man had his gun at a "ready," determined, at the proper signal, to pour a volley into the enemy, who, when along the road in our immediate front, would not be more than ten feet from the muzzles of the guns. On, the horsemen came in silence, right along in our front; each man clutched his musket tighter; not a word or whisper was uttered, until the front files of the column had reached the right of the line, when Captain Clement, who had taken position at that point, called out in his deep bass voice, in a firm tone, "Halt! Who comes there?" In an instant the horsemen came to a standstill and the answer to the challenge came from the front files, "Friends, with the countersign;" whereupon Captain Clement called out, "Advance one and give the countersign." One of the men came up and in a low tone gave the word, which, as I remember, was "Richmond." Captain Clement at once called out, "Countersign correct, advance, friends," and the scare was over, and each party felt much relieved.
Explanations followed, which developed that this company had been sent down to strengthen the picket post, and had not taken the precaution to send a single horseman in front to notify us of their coming.
These men thought, they said, when they were halted and heard the click of some of our men's musket locks, as they made ready to fire, that they were right in the midst of the Yankees. If a single shot had been fired by either side (and it is often hard to restrain men under such circumstances), there would have been many friends slain by friends. I think this was after we moved back to Centreville in the fall.
Another, and for a time rather serious, but in the end, amusing incident occurred while on picket near Falls Church. Here the lines were close together and the pickets often in sight of each other. The picket forces were heavy, sometimes with a battery of artillery along. On one occasion the Yankees had a post in a house a few hundred yards away, across a wooded ravine, and the captain of the battery concluded he would shell this Yankee post. Company C was drawn up in line, near by, as a support in case the Yankees made a dash to capture the guns. Two guns were let loose on the house, and it was fun to watch the Yankees scamper out and take to their heels. Pretty soon some one said, "Don't you hear the Yankees bringing up their guns? They are going to shell us." This changed the humor of the men very quickly from hilarity and good feelings to solemnity and anxiety for their own safety. Just as it was expected the Yankee guns were about to open fire, one of the men, looking pretty nervous and rather pale about the gills, like most of us, turned to Captain Clement and said with earnestness, "I don't think it is far to have cannon on picket." It was great fun to see the Yankees skedaddle, but quite another thing to be shelled. The Yankees did not shell us, but we laughed at Peter Cary many times afterwards about this remark.
While on picket down there at Falls Church we fared fine. I remember some of us would go every morning to a house for breakfast, where we feasted on buckwheat cakes, butter, honey and milk.
Near Mason's Hill, at a picket post, there was a large farm occupied by a Yankee, who had abandoned it upon the approach of the Confederates, and gone within the Yankee lines, leaving a fine garden, large cornfields, fruit, etc. The soldiers were told these things had been confiscated by the Confederate authorities for their use, on account of the disloyalty of the owner, and they fairly feasted on roasting-ears, potatoes, tomatoes, etc.,—boiling camp kettles full of potatoes and corn. Some of the men would eat as many as twelve or fourteen ears of corn at one time; Ned Gilliam, I believe, was the champion corn eater, and Tom and Jabe Rosser, Sam Franklin, the Tweedy and Jones boys, and others, were close seconds. I think maybe they appropriated some bee-gums, or their contents, and perhaps some jars of preserves and other sweets. I must say that Company C had very few men in it who would forage illegally. On one occasion a year or two afterwards, I suspected some of the company of killing a hog while down in the south-side of Virginia, though I did not know it, and took no pains to investigate, as meat was very scarce about that time: in fact, we had none, and it was right hard for a soldier to let a hog bite him and not kill it when hungry. I have heard soldiers say that they would kill a sheep if it tried to bite them. Some of the boys told a story on R. H. Jones about eating, or rather, not eating "stolen hog." Bob was quite young and very conscientious. On one occasion his mess had fresh pork for breakfast which they did not draw from the commissary. When the chops were fried brown and crisp, the boys gathered around the frying-pan and began eating. Bob sat aloof, munching on his corn pone, when some one said, "Bob, have some meat." "No," drawled Bob, "I don't eat stolen hog," all the while looking at the pan and nibbling away on his dry bread. Again some one said, "Bob, you better have some, it's mighty good." Bob reached over towards the pan with his bread and said, "I won't eat any of the meat, but will take a little of the gravy."
While encamped around Fairfax Court House, the whole army was thrown into a high fever of excitement one day by the beating of the long roll. Under the army regulations the long roll is never beaten except in cases of emergency—the sudden and unexpected attack or approach of the enemy. When the long roll is sounded it is the duty of every drum corps in hearing to take it up and repeat it, and every man is hastily called to arms. On this occasion the long roll was started without cause by a fresh "officer of the day," as he said, "to see what effect it would have." For miles around the drums rolled and there was much hurrying and scurrying of staff officers and couriers. I think the "officer of the day" got a court-martial for his freshness, and very likely, if "old Jube" had the say-so, a good cussing.