Chapter VI. A Christmas Dinner

The Star of Gettysburg

by Joseph A. Altsheler

After the great battle at Fredericksburg both armies seemed to
suffer somewhat from reaction. Besides, the winter deepened. There
was more snow, more icy rain, and more hovering of the temperature
near the zero mark. The vast sea of mud increased, and the swollen
Rappahannock, deep at any time, flowed between the two armies.
Pickets often faced one another across the stream, sometimes firing,
but oftener exchanging the news, when the river was not too wide for
the shouted voice to reach.

Harry, despite his belief that the North would hold out, heard
now that the hostile section had sunk into deep depression. The
troops had not been paid for six months. Desertion into the interior
went on on a great scale. One commander-in-chief after another had
failed. After Antietam it had seemed that success could be won, but
the South had come back stronger than ever and had won
Fredericksburg, inflicting appalling loss upon the North. Yet he
heard that Lincoln never flinched. The tall, gaunt, ugly man,
telling his homely jokes, had more courage than anybody who had yet
led the Union cause.

Harry often went down to Fredericksburg, where some houses still
stood among the icy ruins. A few families had returned, but as the
town was still practically under the guns of the Northern army, it
was left chiefly to the troops.

The Invincibles were stationed here, and Harry and Dalton got
leave to spend Christmas day with its officers. Nothing could bring
more fully home to him the appalling waste and ruin of war than the
sight of Fredericksburg. Mud, ice and snow were deeper than ever in
the streets. Many of the houses had been demolished by cannon balls
and fire, and only fragments of them lay about the ground. Others
had been wrecked but partially, with holes in the roofs and the
windows shot out. The white pillars in front of colonnaded mansions
had been shattered and the fallen columns lay in the icy slough.
Long icicles hung from the burned portions of upper floors that still
stood.

Used to war's ruin as he had become, Harry's eyes filled with
tears at the sight. It seemed a city dead, but not yet buried. But
on Christmas day his friends and he resolutely dismissed gloom, and,
first making a brave pretence, finally succeeded in having real
cheerfulness in a fine old brick house which had been pretty well
shot up, but which had some sound rooms remaining. Its owner had
sent word that, while he could not yet come back to it with his
family, he would be glad if the Southern army would make use of it in
his absence.

It was in this house that the little colony of friends gathered,
everyone bringing to the dinner what he could. Colonel Leonidas
Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire occupied the great
sitting room on the ground floor, and here the dinner would be
spread, as a part of the dining-room had been shot away and was still
wet from snow and rain.

But the sitting room gladdened the eye. A heavy imported carpet
covered the central portion of the polished oaken floor. Old family
portraits lined its walls and those of the parlor adjoining it.
Curtains hung at the windows. They were more or less discolored by
smoke and other agencies, but they were curtains. All about the
chamber were signs of wealth and cultivation, and a great fire of
wood was burning in a huge chimney under a beautifully carved oaken
mantelpiece.

The room seemed to remain almost as it had been left by the
owner, save that two one-hundred-pound cannon balls, fired by the
Union guns into Fredericksburg, were lying by either side of the
door.

"Tickets, sir," said Langdon, as Harry appeared at the door.

Harry drew from under his cloak two boxes of sardines which he
had taken from a deserted sutler's wagon on the field of
Fredericksburg. He handed them to Langdon, who said:

"Pass in, most welcome guest."

Harry was the first arrival, but Dalton was next.

"Tickets double price to all Virginia Presbyterians," said
Langdon.

"Instead of a double ticket here are two singles," said Dalton,
as he drew from under his cloak two fine dressed chickens. "Don't
these take me in?"

"They certainly do. Go in on the jump, Dalton."

The next arrival was Sherburne, who brought a five-pound bag of
coffee. Then came the two colonels together, one with the half of a
side of bacon, and the other with a twenty-pound bag of flour. More
followed, bringing like tickets that were perfectly good, and it
seemed that all the invited ticket holders were in, when a big black
man on a big black horse rode up and saluted Langdon respectfully.
He held out a pass.

"This pass am from Gen'ral Jackson," he said.

"Am it?" said Langdon, looking at the pass, "Yes, it am."

"Is you the orf'cer in command of this yere house?" asked the
colored man, his wide mouth parting in an enormous grin that showed
his magnificent white teeth.

"For the present I am, Sir Knight of the Dark but Kind
Countenance. What wouldst thou?"

The man scratched his head and looked doubtfully at Langdon.

"Guess you're asking me some kind of a question, sah?"

"I am. Who art thou? Whence comest thou, Sir Knight of Nubia?
Bearest thou upon thy person some written token, or, as you would say
in your common parlance, what's your business?"

"Oh, I see, sah. Yes, sah, I done got a lettah from Mr.
Theophilus Moncrieffe. That's the owner of this house, and I belong
to him. I'se Caesar Moncrieffe. Here's the lettah, sah."

He handed a folded paper to Harry, who opened and read it. It
was addressed to the chief of whatever officers might be occupying
his house, and it ran thus, somewhat in the old-fashioned way:

SIRS AND GENTLEMEN:

The bearer of this is Caesar Moncrieffe. He and his ancestors
have been servants of my family and my ancestors in the State of
Virginia for more than two hundred years. He is a good man, as were
his father and grandfather before him. He will not steal unless he
should think it for his benefit or yours. He will not lie unless
convinced of its necessity. He will work if you make him.

All of his impulses are good, and though he will strenuously
deny it at first, he is about the best cook in the world. Knowing
the scarcity of nutritious food in the army, I have therefore sent
him to you with what I could gather together, in order that he might
cook you a dinner worthy of Christmas. Put him to work, and if he
disobeys, shuffles or evades in any manner, hit him over the head
with anything that you can find hard enough or heavy enough to make
an impression.

Wishing the Army of Northern Virginia the continued and
brilliant success that has attended it heretofore,

I remain,

Your most obedient
servant,

THEOPHILUS
MONCRIEFFE.

"Ah, Sir Knight of the Dark but not Rueful Countenance, thou art
doubly welcome!" said Happy Tom, now thrice-happy Tom. "It is a
stout and goodly horse from which thou hast dismounted, and I see
that he yet carries on his back something besides the saddle. But
let me first speak to my Lord Talbot, our real commander, who is
within."

Caesar did not wholly understand, but he saw that Langdon meant
well, and he grinned. Happy Tom rushed toward Colonel Talbot, who
stood before the fire with Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire.

"Colonel Talbot! Colonel Talbot, sir!" he exclaimed.

"What is it, Thomas, my lad? You appear to be excited, and that
is not seemly in a soldier of your experience."

"But, Colonel, this isn't a battle. Of course, I wouldn't let
myself be stirred up by the Yankees, but it's a dinner, Colonel!
It's a Christmas dinner, and it bears all the signs of being as fine
as any we ever ate in the old times of peace!"

"Thomas, my lad, I regret it, but I must say that you are
talking in a much more light-headed way than usual. All that we had
we brought with us, and your young brother officers, who I must say
excel you in industry, are now assembling it."

"But, Colonel, there's a big black fellow outside. He's just
come in with a loaded horse, belonging to the owner of this house,
and he's brought a letter with him. Read it, sir."

Colonel Talbot gravely read the letter and passed it to
Lieutenant- Colonel St. Hilaire, who read it with equal gravity.

"Sounds well, eh, Hector?" Colonel Talbot said.

"Most excellent, Leonidas."

They went to the door with Happy Tom, and again Caesar saluted
respectfully.

"You are welcome, Caesar," said Colonel Talbot. "I am commander
here. What has your kind master sent us?"

Caesar bowed low before the two colonels and then proceeded to
unload his horse. The young officers had come crowding to the door,
but Happy Tom received the first package, which was wrapped in
sacking.

"An old Virginia ham, nut-fed and sugar-cured!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, it's real! By all the stars and the sun and the moon, too,
it's real, because I'm pinching it! I thought I'd never see another
such ham again!"

"And here's a dressed turkey, a twenty-pounder at least!" said
Harry. "Ah, you noble bird! What better fate could you find than a
tomb in the stomachs of brave Confederate soldiers!"

"And another turkey!" said Dalton.

"And a bag of nuts!" said Sherburne.

"And, as I live, two bottles of claret!" said St. Claire.

"And a big black cake!" said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St.
Hilaire.

"And a great bunch of holly!" said Colonel Talbot, in whose eye,
usually so warlike, a large tear stood.

"Dat," said Caesar, "was sent by little Miss Julia Moncrieffe,
just nine years old. She wished she had a bunch for every soldier in
the army, an' she sent her lub to all uv 'em."

"God bless little Julia Moncrieffe, aged nine," said Colonel
Talbot, much moved.

"God bless her, so say we all of us," the others added
together.

"And now, Caesar," said Colonel Talbot, "put your horse in the
part of the stable that remains. I noticed some hay there which you
can give to him. Then come to the kitchen. Mr. Moncrieffe, whose
name be praised, says that you're the best cook since those employed
by Lucullus. It's great praise, Caesar, but in my opinion it's none
too great."

Caesar, highly flattered, led his horse to the stable, and the
approving looks of the youths followed him.

"Sometimes I've had my doubts about Santa Claus" said Happy
Tom.

"So have I," said St. Clair, "but like you I have them no
longer."

"And there's a curious thing about this restoration of our
belief in Santa Claus," said Dalton.

"Since we see him in person we all observe the fact," said
Harry.

"That he is a very large man."

"Six feet two at the very least."

"Weight about two twenty, and all of it bone and muscle."

"And he is coal black."

"So black that even on a dark night he would seem to be clothed
around with light."

"Why did it never occur to anybody before that Santa Claus was a
very black, black man?"

"Because we are the first who have ever seen him in the
flesh."

Caesar stabled his horse, went to the kitchen, where he lighted
a fire in the big stove, and fell to work with a will and a wonderful
light-handed dexterity that justified Mr. Moncrieffe's praise of him.
The younger officers helped in turn, but in the kitchen they
willingly allowed to Caesar his rightful position as lord and
master.

Delicious aromas arose. The luxury of the present was
brightened by the contrast with the hardships and hunger of two
years. More than twenty officers were present, and by putting
together three smaller tables they made a long one that ran full
length down the center of the sitting-room.

"We'll save a portion of what we have for friends not so
fortunate," said Colonel Talbot.

"You have always had a generous heart, Leonidas," said
Lieutenant- Colonel Hector St. Hilaire.

"We have much for others and much for ourselves. But many of
our friends and many thousands of the brave Southern youth have gone,
Hector. However, we will not speak of that to-day, and we will try
not to think of it, as we are here to celebrate this festival with
the gallant lads who are still living."

Caesar proved to be all that his master had promised and all
that they had hoped. No better Christmas dinner was eaten that day
in the whole United States. Invincible youth was around the board,
and the two colonels lent dignity to the gathering, without
detracting from its good cheer.

The table had been set late, and soon the winter twilight was
approaching. As they took another slice of ham they heard the boom
of a cannon on the far side of the Rappahannock. Harry went to the
window and saw the white smoke rising from a point about three miles
away.

"They can't be firing on us, can they, sir?" he said to Colonel
Talbot. "They wouldn't do it on a day like this."

"No. There are two reasons. We're so far apart that it would
be a waste of good powder and steel, and they would not violate
Christmas in that manner. We and the Yankees have become too good
friends for such outrageous conduct. If I may risk a surmise, I
think it is merely a Christmas greeting."

"I think so, too, sir. Listen, there goes a cannon on our
side."

"It will be answered in a few moments. The favorite Biblical
numbers are seven and twelve, and I take it that each side will fire
either seven or twelve shots. It is certainly a graceful compliment
from the Yankees, befitting the season. I should not have said a
year ago that they would show so much delicacy and perception."

"I think that the number of shots on each side will be twelve,"
said Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire. "It's three apiece now, isn't
it?"

"Yes, three apiece," said Colonel Talbot.

"Four now," said Sherburne.

"Five now," said Dalton.

"Six now," said St. Clair.

"Seven now," said Harry.

"Eight now," said Happy Tom.

"And seven has been passed," said Colonel Talbot. "It will
surely be twelve."

All were silent now, counting under their breath, and they felt
a certain extraordinary solemnity as they counted. Harry knew that
both armies, far up and down the river, were counting those shots, as
the little group in the Moncrieffe house were counting them.
Certainly there would be no hostilities on that day.

"Nine," they said under their breath.

"Ten!"

"Eleven!"

"Twelve!"

Then they listened, as the echo of the twelfth Southern shot
died away on the stream, and no sound came after it. Twenty-four
shots had been fired, twelve by each army, conveying Christmas good
wishes, and the group in the house went back to their dinner. Some
glasses had been found, and there was a thimbleful of wine, enough
for everyone. The black cake was cut, and at a word from Colonel
Talbot all rose and drank a toast to the mothers and wives and
sweethearts and sisters they had left behind them.

Then the twilight thickened rapidly and the winter night came
down upon them, hiding the ruined town, the blackened walls, the
muddy streets and the icicles hanging from scorched timbers.

Caesar Moncrieffe washed all the dishes--those left in the house
had been sufficient for their purpose--wiped them carefully, and
returned them to the cupboard. Then he announced that he must go.

"Come now, Santa Claus," said Happy Tom, "you must stay here.
You've done enough for one day. In fact, I should say that you've
earned a week's rest."

"I ain't no Santy Claus," said Caesar, "but I done got to git
back to Massa Moncrieffe. He'll be expectin' me."

"But you'll get lost in the dark. Besides, some Yankee scout
may shoot the top of your head off."

"You can't lose me anywhar' roun' here. 'Sides, I kin dodge
them Yankees every time. On a dark night like this I could go right
up the gullies and through the biggest army in the world without its
seein' me."

Caesar felt that he was bound to go, and all the officers in
turn shook his big rough black hand. Then they saw him ride away in
the darkness, armed with his pass from General Jackson, and on the
lookout for any prowling Yankees who might have ventured on the right
bank of the river.

"Isn't it odd, Colonel," said Harry to Colonel Talbot, "that so
many of our colored people regard the Yankees who are trying now to
free them as enemies, while they look upon us as their best
friends?"

"Propinquity and association, Harry," replied Colonel Talbot,
"and in the border states, at least, we have seldom been cruel to
them. I hope there has been little of cruelty, too, in my own South
Carolina. They are used to our ways, and they turn to us for the help
that is seldom refused. The Northerner will always be a stranger to
them, and an unsympathetic stranger, because there is no personal
contact, none of that 'give and take' which makes men friends."

"What a pity we didn't free 'em ourselves long ago!"

"Yes, it is. I say this to you in confidence now, Harry. Of
course, I would be denounced by our people if I said it. But many of
our famous men, Harry, have not approved of it. The great Washington
said slavery, with its shiftless methods of farming, was draining the
life out of the land, and he was right. Haven't we seen the 'old
fields' of Virginia?"

"And Clay was against it, too," said Harry; "but I suppose it's
one of the things we're now fighting for, unless we should choose to
liberate them ourselves after defeating the North."

"I suppose so," said Colonel Talbot, "but I am no politician or
statesman. My trade unfits me for such matters. I am a West
Pointer--a proud and glorious fact I consider it, too--but the life
of a regular army officer makes him a man set apart. He is not
really in touch with the nation. He cannot be, because he has so
little personal contact with it. For that reason West Pointers
should never aspire to public office. It does not suit them, and
they seldom succeed in it. But here, I'm becoming a prosy old bore.
Come into the house, lad. The boys are growing sentimental. Listen
to their song. It's the same, isn't it, that some of our bands
played at Bull Run?"

"Yes, sir, it is," replied Harry, as he joined the others in the
song:

"The hour was sad, I left the maid A lingering
farewell taking, Her sighs and tears my steps delayed I
thought her heart was breaking. "In hurried words her name I
blessed, I breathed the vows that bind me, And to my
heart in anguish pressed The girl I left behind me." Most
all the officers had leave for the full day. Harry and Dalton in
fact were to stay overnight at the house, and, forgetful of the war,
they sang one song after another as the evening waned. At nine
o'clock all the guests left save Harry and Dalton.

"You and Langdon will show them to their bedrooms," said Colonel
Talbot. "Take the candle. The rest of us can sit here by the
firelight."

There was but a single candle, and it was already burning low,
but Happy Tom and Arthur, shielding it from draughts, led the way to
the second floor.

"Most of the houses were demolished by cannon shot and fire,"
said Langdon, "but we've a habitable room which we reserve for guests
of high degree. You will note here where a cannon shot, the result
of plunging fire, came slantingly through the roof and passed out at
the wall on the other side. You need not get under that hole if it
should rain or snow, and meanwhile it serves splendidly for
ventilation. The rip in the wall serves the same purpose, and, of
course, you have too much sense to fall through it. Some blankets
are spread there in the corner, and as you have your heavy cloaks
with you, you ought to make out. Sorry we can't treat you any
better, Sir Harry of Kentucky and Sir George of Virginia, but these
be distressful times, and the best the castle affords is put at your
service."

"And I suspect that it's really the best," said Harry to Dalton,
as St. Clair and Langdon went out. "There's straw under these
blankets, George, and we've got a real bed."

The moonlight shone through two windows and the cannon-shot
hole, and it was bright in the room.

"Here's a little bureau by the wall," said Dalton, "and as I
intend to enjoy the luxury of undressing, I'm going to put my clothes
in it, where they'll keep dry. You'll notice that all the panes have
been shot out of those windows, and a driving rain would sweep all
the way across the room."

"Now and then a good idea springs up in some way in that old
head of yours, George. I'll do the same."

Dalton opened the top drawer.

"Something has been left here," he said.

He held up a large doll with blue eyes and yellow hair.

"As sure as we're living," said Harry, "we're in the room of
little Miss Julia Moncrieffe, aged nine, the young lady who sent us
the holly. Evidently they took away all their clothing and lighter
articles of furniture, but they forgot the doll. Put it back,
George. They'll return to Fredericksburg some day and we want her to
find it there."

"You're right, Harry," said Dalton, as he replaced the doll and
closed the drawer. "You and I ought to be grateful to that little
girl whom we may never see."

"We won't forget," said Harry, as he undressed rapidly and lay
down upon their luxurious bed of blankets and straw.

Neither of them remembered anything until they were dragged into
the middle of the room next morning by St. Clair and Langdon.

"Here! here! wake up! wake up!" cried Langdon. "It's not polite
to your hosts to be snoring away when breakfast is almost ready. Go
down on a piece of the back porch that's left, and you'll find two
pans of cold water in which you can wash your faces. It's true the
pans are frozen over, but you can break the ice, and it will remind
you of home and your little boyhood."

They sprang up and dressed as rapidly as they could, because
when they came from the covers they found it icy cold in the room.
Then they ran down, as they had been directed, broke the ice in the
pans and bathed their faces.

"Fine air," said Harry.

"Yes, but too much of it," said Dalton.

"Br-h-h-h-h, how it freezes me! Look at the icicles, George! I
think some new ones came to town last night! And what a cold river!
I don't believe there was ever a colder-looking river than the
Rappahannock!"

"And see the fogs and mists rising from it, too. It looks
exactly as it did the morning of the battle."

"Let it look as it pleases," said Harry. "I'm going to make a
dash for the inside and a fire!"

They found the colonels and the rest of the staff in the
sitting-room, all except two, who were acting as cooks, but their
work ceased in a moment or two, as breakfast was ready. It consisted
of coffee and bread and ham left over from the night before. A heap
of timber glowed in the fireplace and shot forth ruddy flames.
Harry's soul fairly warmed within him.

"Sit down, all of you," said Colonel Talbot, "and we'll help one
another."

They ate with the appetite of the soldier, and Colonel Talbot
and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire, finishing first, withdrew to a
wide window seat. There they produced the board and box of chessmen
and proceeded to rearrange them exactly as they were before the
battle of Fredericksburg.

"You will recall that your king was in great danger, Leonidas,"
said Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilaire.

"Truly I do, Hector, but I do not think it beyond my power to
rescue him."

"It will be a hard task, Leonidas."

"Hector, I would have you to remember that I am an officer in
the Army of Northern Virginia, and the Army of Northern Virginia
prefers hard tasks to easy ones."

"You put the truth happily, Leonidas, but I must insist that
your position is one of uncommon danger."

"I recognize the fact fully, Hector, but I assert firmly that I
will rescue my red king."

Harry, his part of the work finished, watched them. The two
gray heads bent lower and lower over the table until they almost
touched. Everybody maintained a respectful silence. Colonel Talbot's
brow was corded deeply with thought. It was a full quarter of an
hour before he made a move, and then his opponent looked
surprised.

"That does not seem to be your right move, Leonidas."

"But it is, Hector, as you will see presently."

"Very well. I will now choose my own course."

Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire's own brow became corded and
knotted as he put his whole mental energy upon the problem. Harry
watched them a little while, and then strolled over to the other
window, where St. Clair was looking at the ruined town.

"Curious how people can find entertainment in so slow a game,"
he said, nodding toward the two colonels.

"That same game has been going on for more than a year," said
St. Clair, with a slight smile. "It's odd how something always
breaks it up. I wonder what it will be this time. But it's an
intelligent game, Harry."

"I don't think a sport is intellectual, merely because it is
slow."

Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire made a move, Colonel Leonidas
Talbot made another, and then promptly uttered a little cry of
triumph.

"My king is free! He is free! You made no royal capture,
Hector!" he exclaimed joyously.

"It is so, Leonidas. I did not foresee your path of retreat. I
must enter upon a new campaign against you."

Harry, who was looking toward the heights on the other side of
the river, saw a flash of flame and a puff of smoke. A rumbling
noise came to him.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Colonel Talbot.

"A Yankee cannon. I suppose it was telling us Christmas is
over. The ball struck somewhere in Fredericksburg."

"A waste of good ammunition. Why, they've done all the damage
to Fredericksburg that they can do. It's your move, Hector."

Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire corded and knotted his brow
again, and once more the two heads nearly met over the chessboard. A
whistling sound suddenly came from the street without. Something
struck with a terrible impact, and then followed a blinding flash and
roar. The whole house shook and several of the men were thrown down,
but in a half minute they sprang to their feet.

Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St.
Hilaire were standing erect, staring at each other. The chessmen
were scattered on the floor and the board was split in half. A
fragment of the exploding shell had entered the window and passing
directly between them had done the damage. The same piece had gone
entirely through the opposite wall.

Harry's quick glance told him that nothing had suffered except
the chessboard. He sprang forward, picked up the two halves, and
said:

"No real harm has been done. Two strips underneath, a few
tacks, and it's as good again as ever."

The other lads carefully gathered up the scattered chessmen and
announced that not one of them was injured.

"Thank you, boys," said Colonel Talbot. "It is a pleasing thing
to see that, despite the war, the young still show courtesy to their
elders. You will bear in mind, Hector, when this game is resumed at a
proper time and place, that the position of one of your knights was
very delicate."

"Assuredly I will not forget it, Leonidas. It will be no
trouble to either of us to replace them exactly as they were at a
moment's notice."

Harry and Dalton were compelled now to return to General
Jackson, and they did so, after leaving many thanks with their
generous hosts. Heavy winter rains began. The country on both sides
of the Rappahannock became a vast sea of mud, and the soldiers had to
struggle against all the elements, because the rains were icy and the
mud formed a crust through which they broke in the morning.

While they lingered here news came of the great battle in the
West, fought on the last day of the old year and the first day of the
new, along the banks of Stone River. Harry and his comrades looked
for a triumph there like that which they had won, and they were
deeply disappointed when they heard the result.

Harry had a copy of a Richmond paper and he was reading from it
to an attentive circle, but he stopped to comment:

"Ours was the smaller army, but we drove them back and held a
part of the field. Two or three days later we withdrew to
Chattanooga. Well, I don't call it much of a victory to thump your
enemy and then go away, leaving him in possession of the field."

"But the enemy was a third more numerous than we were," said
Happy Tom, "and since it looks like a draw, so far as the fighting
was concerned, we, being the smaller, get the honors."

"That's just the trouble," said Dalton gravely. "We are loaded
down with honors. Look at the great victories we've won in the East!
Has anything solid come of them? Here is the enemy on Virginia soil,
just as he was before. We've given the Army of the Potomac a
terrible thrashing at Fredericksburg, but there it is on the other
side of the Rappahannock, just as strong as ever, and maybe stronger,
because they say recruits are pouring into it."

"Stop! Stop, Dalton!" said Happy Tom. "We don't want any
lecture from you. We're just having a conversation."

"All right," said Dalton, laughing, "but I gave you my
opinion."

Days of comparative idleness followed. The Army of the Potomac
moved farther up the river and settled itself around the village of
Falmouth. The Army of Northern Virginia faced it, and along the
hillsides the young Southern soldiers erected sign posts, on the
boards of which were painted, in letters large enough for the Union
glasses to see, the derisive words:

THIS WAY TO RICHMOND