Hall’s Hill, Va., Dec. 19th, 1861.
Dear Sister L.:—
This has been a busy week. We’ve been moving into our new tents and fixing ourselves comfortable for winter. Our tents are round, with two doors that can be closed tight, and a pole in the center with two tables, one above the other on the pole. We have some twelve or fourteen in ours. We have bunks made so that we can sleep in one-half of the tent, and not sleep on the ground, either. On the other side we have a rack for our guns, a table and a stove. Think of that—a stove, a little sheet iron one, with two griddles! The stove and pipe cost four dollars. It warms up the tent, and we think it a first-rate institution.
Our new uniforms are distributed and they improve the looks of the regiment wonderfully.
Bancroft, the great historian, came to see us the other day. We donned our “baglegs” and went out with the rest of the brigade and went through with a sham battle for his amusement. Martindale’s brigade was out this afternoon doing the same thing. Infantry, cavalry and artillery were doing their best. The regiment of infantry were blazing away at each other when a squadron of cavalry dashed round a piece of woods and charged down on them with the wildest yells. Then the artillery commenced firing on them (the cavalry) and they gave it up, wheeled and retreated. I was out in the woods after brush and came across the field. Quite a number of carriages were up from the city and I saw ladies watching the sport with a good deal of interest. They would start at the report of the cannons and give a nice little city scream, as ladies will.
I wish you could be here a few days to see the sights. It would do you so much good. I am getting some accustomed to the smell of powder. We go out every day target shooting, the whole regiment together. When we all get at it we make some noise. It would be quite a sight at home to see three or four hundred firing at once.
H. is in the hospital sick with the measles. He is doing first-rate, but he is so babyish that he makes a laughingstock of himself. I do not blame him much. Such letters as he gets from home from his mother and Mary, commencing, “My very dear, absent, brave, soldier boy,” or something like that, all of the ”muzzer’s pressus darlin'” order. He is a first-rate fellow, but I do wish he had more of the stiff upper lip and stoical bearing of the soldier. D. and myself are well. I am gaining. I weigh one hundred and thirty-five pounds.
I must tell you something about our new camp, for, though we are on the same ground, we have altered the looks of it materially. Each company’s tents are in a line, and we have good wide streets between. These are all nicely graded and a trench dug round each tent and on each side of the street. Each side is set out with pine and cedar trees, and many of the tents have arches and bowers of evergreens before the doors. At the head of each street a grand arch is made with the letter of the company or some other device suspended, all made of the evergreen trees and branches. Company E, in the center, has the widest street and a little the nicest arch, as they have the colors.
Company E has two side arches, for little doors, I suppose. I tell you these embellishments make our camp look very nice, and the streets are graded so nicely, and the ground in front of our camp is worn smooth and bare, so we have a splendid parade ground for company or battalion drills.
Everything looks as though we were to winter here. We are having delightful weather. I never saw such in December. Such glorious moonlight nights. Now, don’t tell, but I did wish I could be up in the land of snows long enough to have one evening’s sleigh-ride, but I am content.
