But some of the men did not like so primitive an order of architecture and built huts entirely out of logs, and displayed as much originality as you would find in more pretentious cities.  These were covered over with poles, on which straw and sand were tightly packed, enough so as to make them water-tight.  Some would give names to their quarters, marked in large letters above their doors in charcoal, taxing their minds to give ingenious and unique names, such as “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” “The House that Jack Built,” “Park Row,” “Devil’s Inn,” etc.  To while away the long nights and cold days, the men had recourse to the soldier’s game, “cards.”  Few ever played for the money that was in it, but more for an amusement and pastime.  While almost all played cards, there were very few who could be considered gamblers, or who would take their comrades’ money, if they even won it.  There would be stakes played for, it is true, on the “credit system” generally, to be evened-up on pay-day.  But when that time came around such good feeling existed that “poker debts,” as they were called, were seldom ever thought of, and the game would continue with its varying successes without ever a thought of liquidation.  You might often see a good old Methodist or a strict Presbyterian earnestly engaged in a “five cent antie” game, but never take his friend’s money, even if honestly won.  Something had to be done to pass away the time, and card-playing was considered an innocent amusement.

The long inactivity made men naturally think and dream of home.  The soldiers had left home quite suddenly, and in many cases with little preparation, but the continual talk of “peace in the spring,” and the daily vaporing of the press about England or France recognizing the South’s belligerency—­and the opening of her ports—­buoyed up the spirits of the soldiers, and fanned the flame of hope.  A great many of the old army officers of the United States, hailing from the South, had resigned their commissions on the Secession of the States, and tendered their services to the Confederacy.  Of course it mattered not what was their former rank, or what service, if any they had seen, all expected places as generals.  President Davis being a West Pointer himself, had great partiality for graduates of that institution.  It was his weakness, this favoritism for West Pointers; and the persistency with which he appointed them above and over the generals of the volunteers, gave dissatisfaction.  These appointments caused such resentment and dissatisfaction that some of our very best generals resigned their commissions, refusing to serve under men of no experience and doubtful qualifications.  Longstreet, Van Dorn, McLaws, G.W.  Smith, and a host of others, who had been captains and majors in the United States Army, were here or in Richmond waiting for some high grade, without first winning their spurs upon the field.  McLaws, a Major in the regular army, was made a Major General, and Longstreet had been appointed over General