So the days passed on. The country was white with snow. The temperature was near zero, and the troops, their blankets as threadbare as their uniforms, without greatcoats, and in many instances without boots, shivered beneath the rude shelters of their forest bivouacs. Fortunately there was plenty of work. Roads were cut through the woods, and existing tracks improved. The river banks were incessantly patrolled. Fortifications were constructed at Port Royal and Skinker’s Neck, and the movements of the Federals, demonstrating now here and now there, kept the whole army on the alert. Nor were Jackson’s men deprived of all excitement. He had the satisfaction of reporting to General Lee that D.H. Hill, with the aid of Stuart’s horse-artillery, had frustrated two attempts of the Federal gunboats to pass up the river at Port Royal; and that the vigilance of Early at Skinker’s Neck had caused the enemy to abandon the design which he had apparently conceived of crossing at that point.
Dec. 11.
But more vigorous operations were not long postponed. On December 10, General Burnside, urged by the impatience of the Northern press, determined to advance, and the next morning, at 3 A.M., the signal guns of the Confederates gave notice that the enemy was in motion. One hundred and forty Federal guns, many of large calibre, placed in epaulments on the Stafford Heights, frowned down upon Fredericksburg, and before the sun rose the Federal bridge builders were at work on the opposite shore. The little city, which had been deserted by the inhabitants, was held by Barksdale’s Mississippi brigade of McLaws’ division, about 1600 strong, and the conduct of this advanced detachment must have done much to inspirit the troops who watched their prowess from the ridge in rear. A heavy fog hung upon the water, and not until the bridge was two-thirds completed, and shadowy figures became visible in the mist, did the Mississippians open fire. At such close quarters the effect was immediate, and