"We Thought We Would All be Shot".

Thursday, February 11, 1864, along the Rapidan

For awhile it was appearing that we would all freeze into statues as the stockpile of firewood was nearing empty, the entire brigade, and perhaps the entire division, has pulled up stakes and moved up the Rapidan about one-half mile. We are continuing to cut wood and it appears that we will keep warm until the spring.

No good thing is ever free from a bad thing. While there is wood in abundance in our new location, we had to give up our cabins in our old location. There were some of us that built rather flimsy structures which, with some effort, be taken down and removed upriver. The rest of us, who built sturdy cabins had to bid them farewell. Poor Duncan and Hancock. They had worked very hard to make proper shingles for our cabin. All we managed to salvage from our cabin was the sign for our mess, the Dandy Eights.

We are eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring for reasons other than warmth. We are, "feasting", on our usual winter rations which consist of salt pork, hardtack and some corn meal. There is little else to be had. Beef is no longer a word we use as we have forgotten its meaning. Flour is but a dream. We remember this same fare from last winter but we seem to remember that there was more of it. There are still some packages and parcels from home that arrive from time to time but the contents are never enough to decrease our hunger.

Two days ago, our mess was sitting around a fire discussing fervently one of our favorite subjects, that being rations. We talked mostly about the early days of the war when finding more substantial fare was easier. The specific subject of chicken came up and Castles became somewhat excited. He leaned close into the fire and said that he knew where there was a live chicken that wished to join our mess. He said that he had seen it near headquarters, roaming around as if it didn't have a care in the world.

At once, we voted to make ourselves a committee of the whole for purposes of helping the chicken to fulfill its destiny. Castles said that he would take only one of us with him as an entire committee would scare it away. We all volunteered but he picked Holton. They departed, in the direction of headquarters, Castles stating that they would return, feast in hand, in about an hour.

Hancock produced our cook pot, filled it with snow, and stoked the fire. We all pulled things from our haversacks to contribute to the pot. Crenshaw wondered about the pet chicken that General Lee kept. We stopped and looked at one another. All of us had the same questioning expression on our faces: was it possible? Up we flew, running after Castles and Holton. We could not run very fast due to the snow. We fell often in the snow and over each other. We thought we would all be shot.

As we started to catch up to them, they heard us and turned around. Thinking that we were going to spoil everything, they began to run away from us. Crenshaw threw a large stick at Holton, bringing him down. Crenshaw and I jumped on him and smothered him in the snow. The rest of us kept running after Castles. We were all saved from the firing squad when Castles ran out of steam. We never did determine if that chicken was the commanding general's chicken but that was all right.

Our general has returned and he appears to be all right save for a limp.We have not seen him since his wounding at Fredericksburg two years ago. With McGowan's return, General Perrin has been sent to command some other brigade. Although we are glad to have McGowan back, we will miss Perrin. He managed to get General Lee to commute the death sentences of two soldiers found guilty of desertion from this regiment. He was quite a soldier and we liked him.


I Send You These Few Lines


General Lee had a pet chicken? Yes. Her name was Nellie. Since early 1862, Nellie would attach herself to the Great Commander and as long as it was known that she belonged to him, no one dared to put her in a pot. She repayed her protector by laying eggs. Some smart hen.

General Abner Perrin, from Edgefield District, in South Carolina, was a veteran of the Mexican War. when Samuel McGowan returned from his medical absence, Perrin was given command of a brigade of Alabamians in a different division.

This winter of '63-'64 was a bad one for both sides of the Rapidan. McGowan's brigade was spread out to relieve the firewood problem, having fewer soldiers overtaxing the supply. While this worked, it thinned out a line that was already thin. The Yankees will probe Southern lines all winter long, looking for weak spots.

They just might find some.