Around us lay the Confederate dead, two dead Georgians lying in the midst of my company, by whose side the writer lay down and slept. The night was cool, but not cold; there was no moon, but bright starlight, to which, for several hours, was added the Aurora borealis. About midnight I was aroused by Captain Bane, who said to me, "They are coming," and with my ear to the ground I could distinctly hear hoof strokes approaching from the direction of the city. In a moment every man was at his post, musket in hand; dead stillness reigned. The mounted parties rode up to the intersection of the roads and were captured by the first regiment. The party consisted of three Federal officers, one a member of General Hooker's staff. They had ridden forward to examine their skirmish line and had been allowed to pass through unchallenged, finding themselves in a trap. They were sent under guard to the provost-marshal in charge of an Irish sergeant and guard of the 1st Virginia. This sergeant on his return next morning, while passing our company, was severely wounded by a Federal sharpshooter standing behind the corner of a brick house a hundred yards or more away. We had been advised on the night of the battle that the attack was expected to be renewed the next morning, in view of which we had been furnished with one hundred rounds of ammunition, with instructions to hold the position at all hazards, that we would be supported by a line of battle on the hill in our rear. The attack was not made, though we remained in position during the day and night, skirmishing and sharpshooting. Next day after the battle, while holding the line in front of Fredericksburg, some of our boys carried water to the Federal wounded lying in our front, though at the risk of life. Amid a rainstorm on the night of the 14th, the enemy stole away and crossed the river. The battle over and the danger past, we retired to our camp on the hills south of Fredericksburg, where we remained for nearly two months, suffering much from cold, want of clothing and shoes; many of the barefooted men making and wearing rawhide moccasins. Frequently, to prevent suffering at night, the men made log fires and in evening rolled away the burning logs, cleared away the fire and ashes and made their sleeping places on the warm earth from which the fire had been removed. When we had snow, the men would fight snowball battles, in which frequently someone was seriously hurt. We did little picket or guard duty, and many engaged in card playing. Religious exercises were now infrequent. I recall going once to divine services, when the Chaplain, Mr. McCarthy, preached; and I remember to this good day the text which formed the basis of his discourse. It was from the 53d chapter of Isaiah, verse i: "Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?"