The snow storm of November 7th came upon us quite unexpectedly, leading us to think we had journeyed in the wrong direction, and instead of being in “Dixie” had approached the north pole, and were already in the immediate vicinity of it. There were some wry faces about the camp, though most seemed amused at this unlooked-for event, joking among themselves at the idea of making snowballs in Virginia before Rhode Islanders could get the necessary material “enlisting under false pretences,” &c.

From November 8th to the 12th, nothing of unusual interest occurred, our time being taken up in drill, and in other necessary duties connected with camp-life. November 13th, the entire regiment was ordered to be in readiness the following morning, for picket duty, with two days’ rations. The appearance of the sky, the night of the 12th, was threatening, making us already feel, in imagination, the discomforts of this duty in a storm, with no other shelter but the broad canopy of the heavens, excepting, perhaps, a paltry one of bushes, affording indeed but little protection from the pitiless storm.

The morning of the 13th came; the roll of drums at six o’clock, aroused many a drowsy soldier of the Twelfth from his humble couch, and interrupted many a pleasant dream of home, to awake him to the stern reality of other duties and associations. It did, indeed, rain in the night, which proved a benefit to us, raining just enough to lay the dust. The morning broke upon us with the assurance of a pleasant day. With cheerful hearts and willing hands, we began our preparations. We took breakfast at the usual hour, half-past seven, filled our haversacks with beef and hard crackers, our canteens with water, strapped our blankets about us, buckled on our equipments, and at eight o’clock, formed in line in the Company Street, and at half-past eight, the different companies passed Gen. Wright’s head-quarters. The regiment was formed for “guard-mounting,” directly in front of his residence, went through the manoeuvres, listened to the music from the Brigade Band, (which, by the way, discoursed finely,) and at quarter to nine, filed into the road, and taking the direction of Fairfax Court House, were fairly on our way. Every thing was favorable; a cool breeze from the north-west, adding to our comfort, as we “marched along.” We were accompanied by nearly all our officers, a few being left behind, as is customary, to protect our camp. After passing Cloud’s Mills, and ascending the hill beyond, we came to a halt, and the regiment was divided into parties of 108 privates, each division to be commanded by their respective officers. These divisions are called “supports,” and numbered first, second, third, &c.

As soon as our “support” was formed, we continued our march. Passed the road leading to Bailey’s Cross Roads, kept along on the direct road to Fairfax Court House, for about a mile beyond this turn, then filing to the left, entered the woods, followed a cart-path for about half a mile, and at eleven, A.M., found ourselves at the end of our journey. There were plenty of good shelters where we were to encamp, already erected by those there before us, and gladly vacated by the Twenty-Seventh New Jersey, who turned out to receive us upon our arrival. Our “support” was immediately divided into three “reliefs,” of 36 men each. Each “relief” to stay on four hours, the first going on to be relieved by the second, &c., giving each “relief” eight hours rest at the general rendezvous. The “reliefs” were arranged in two ranks, and numbered as they stood, from right to left, each man to remember the number assigned him, and when called upon, place himself in the ranks accordingly. I found myself in the first “relief,” number 21, armed and equipped as the law directs.

As soon as our “relief” was formed, we started for our posts, marched back to the road we had just left, continued on half a mile farther, and came upon Post N. This post was on the main road, and close by the ruins of what was once a large building, destroyed, probably, since the war commenced, nothing being left now but a mass of brick and stone. Upon relieving this post, we left the road, which here runs nearly east and west, and struck across the fields towards the south, for Post N.

The posts were perhaps thirty rods apart; three men being stationed on each post, and one sergeant or corporal, in charge of every three posts. The first three men, as numbered in the ranks before starting from the rendezvous, to take the first post, the next three the second, &c. The orders were for one man to remain at the post, while the other two were to move to and from the post, in opposite directions, a certain distance, or perhaps farther, occasionally, if the sentinel from the posts adjoining, should fail to meet him at the end of his beat, thereby keeping up communication throughout the entire line. The men to have their pieces loaded, and bayonets fixed, with particular instructions to be on the alert, to build no fires, light no matches, smoke, nor indulge in loud conversation.

The line of pickets ran nearly north and south, the first “support” being on the right of the line, commenced in the vicinity of Bailey’s Cross Roads, and connected with the second “support,” at Post N. The line of our “support” ran from the main road, towards the railroad, the distance between the two, at this place, being perhaps one and a half miles, our “support” reaching two-thirds of the way to the railroad, there to connect with the third, and so on to the last “support,” our regiment guarding a line of several miles in length. Our path led over level spaces, up and down hills steep as the roof of a house, along side hills where it required the greatest care to preserve our equilibrium, through tangled thickets of bush and brier, and over every conceivable obstacle in the shape of stump, stone, bog, &c. The place falling to my lot, to help guard for the next forty-eight hours, was Post N, just in the edge of a grove of small evergreen trees, on the side of a hill, overlooking what must have been once a large farm, situated in a valley opening to the south, and enclosed on three sides by woods. Our post was on the eastern side of this clearing; the hill on the opposite side, rising to about the same height, was covered with a heavy growth of timber, affording a good shelter for sharpshooters, if they had happened to have been in the vicinity, and had been disposed to annoy us. The distance across this clearing being about one-third of a mile, a good distance for rifle practice.

This clearing was perhaps fifty rods in width, and nearly one-third of a mile in length, bounded on the north by a swamp, and opening to the south upon a vast plain of bog, with here and there a bunch of stunted trees or bushes. Quite a large stream issues from this swamp, and runs the entire length of the farm, emptying into a larger one, which runs into the Potomac, along the valley through which the railroad runs from Alexandria to Manassas. The ruins of a large farm-house lay in the valley to the left of us. I will not omit a description of the “beat” over which your humble servant kept watch and ward, until every foot of ground became familiar to him. The path alongside this clearing had been lately cut through, without much regard to convenience of travelling, or risk of life or limb, the stumps sticking up invariably from three to six inches from the ground, requiring the utmost care on our part, especially in the night time, or the privilege of trying, if we chose, the sharpness of these stubs, upon various parts of our body, or the hardness of our heads against the trees by the wayside, experiments in tripping and plunging not likely to find favor with your humble servant.

We were very fortunate in having pleasant weather again for this duty. We took our posts at twelve, unslung our blankets, haversacks and canteens, and loaded our pieces. We were relieved at four o’clock, and arrived at the rendezvous in time to make our coffee before dark, eat our supper, spread our blankets and turn in.

Slept soundly, and at midnight, when we were again called upon, marched to our posts, to remain there till four o’clock. The night was warm and pleasant; the moon was just rising as we took our posts, which made our duty much easier; our four hours passed quickly by, we were relieved again, and at half-past four were again at the rendezvous. We had anticipated having another nap before breakfast, and were getting ready to turn in, when we were ordered to form in line and stand until sunrise. Our colonel represented it as necessary, to guard against surprise; as the enemy usually make attacks at this hour a watchfulness much to be commended, in the vicinity of the enemy, but as our picket was of importance only as a guard to intercept deserters and stragglers from our army in front, we, with our sleepy eyes, could not see the point. Many of the men, without much deference to the opinion of our brave colonel, thought it simply ridiculous; some cursed, others laughed and joked. I did not regret losing my nap, as I was amply repaid, listening to the witticisms of the party. Morning broke at last, and we were relieved. We kindled our fires anew, made our coffee, and after breakfast some of us turned in to sleep; others played cards, or amused themselves as they chose, until twelve, when we took our posts again. The weather continued fine, and we passed the time pleasantly.

Another night passed; another pleasant day opened upon us, nothing remarkable occurring in connection with our duties, unless we except a visit from General Casey, who rode along the line, accompanied by his staff, on a tour of inspection. At eleven o’clock, A.M., the 15th, we formed in line to receive the new guard, and by twelve our last relief was in, and we started for camp. We reached it about two, P.M., all of us in good spirits; found our dinner of soup and hot coffee waiting for us, to which we immediately paid our respects.

The next morning, Sunday, the 16th, we cleaned our muskets, brushed our clothes, and at eleven, A.M., attended divine service, the chaplain holding forth from the steps of the building which adjoins our camp on the north, the regiment forming on the lawn in front. This building is very large, and is now used by the colonel, he taking up his quarters there, the post-office, hospital and quartermaster’s department being included in the same building; giving our field and staff plenty of room and good accommodations.

Monday, the 17th, was not as pleasant; quite a strong wind from the south-west, cloudy and misty, making it rather hard to turn out and drill. Tuesday, the 18th, was a complete pattern of the 17th; a thick fog, just enough to make it unpleasant; drilled through the day, however, and at dress parade had orders to be in readiness the following morning to march to Fort Albany, to be reviewed by General Casey.

The wind continued blowing strong from the south through the night, and the next morning the black, heavy clouds rolling up, showed certain signs of a wet day. At eight o’clock the company formed in the street, marched on to the parade ground; the regiment was formed, and at half-past eight filed into the road and started on our journey. Stopped opposite General Wright’s head-quarters for the other regiments to take their place in line, it being a review of the whole brigade.

At quarter before nine the Fifth Connecticut came in ahead, the Thirteenth New Hampshire formed in the rear, and we started on. After proceeding two miles, the order was countermanded, and we hurried back just in time to escape a drenching rain, which poured in torrents immediately after our arrival in camp. The government having furnished us with stoves, and plenty of wood, we kept our tents, and contrived to make ourselves comfortable.

The next day, the 21st, our turn came for picket duty again. One of the regiments belonging to our brigade, the Twenty-Seventh New Jersey, having been taken from us, our turn came two days sooner than we had anticipated it would, when on before. It continued raining throughout the afternoon, and towards night the wind, which had been blowing from the south, came round into the north-east, much against our wishes; and it continued raining through the night. In the morning we found the wind had hauled into the north, the rain had nearly ceased, and at eight o’clock our regiment were in line; and at half-past eight were on their march. By eleven, A.M., the sky was clear, and the Twelfth Rhode Island Volunteers were again favored with pleasant weather. While the other regiments of our brigade had to contend with storms and unpleasant weather, while on this picket duty, the Twelfth thus far escaped. Having some work of my own to do, I stopped in camp this time, and did not accompany the regiment. Saturday, the 22d, it was very warm and pleasant; but Sunday, the 23d, the sky was partially overcast with clouds, the air was raw and chilly, and the wind blew a gale from the north-west.

At two o’clock, P.M., our regiment came in, all in good spirits, but glad to get into camp. Monday, 24th, we had a pleasant day again, and a fine time drilling. The mud had dried up, the ground had become hard, there was no dust blowing, and the men were in fine spirits, and fast improving in the drill and discipline necessary to make the soldier.

The Twelfth as yet continued to be in remarkably good health, compared with the other regiments encamped about us. The Thirteenth New Hampshire and Fifth Connecticut, coming here at the same time with us, had already lost several men since encamping here, and had then quite a number sick in the hospital. Our fare continued good; we had excellent bread, and plenty of it. It was baked at Alexandria, and we got it fresh, and oftentimes warm from the oven. We had hard crackers occasionally, twice a week, perhaps, instead of soft bread. The hard bread we had here was entirely different from what I expected to find it. It appeared to be made of the best of material. Our salt beef was fat, of good quality, and when properly cooked, was as good as we could ask for. It is cured differently from that at home, there being much saltpetre used in curing it; requiring a great deal of pains, on the part of the cooks, in order to make it palatable. We had fresh beef twice a week; this was made into soups. Our company finally procured a large sheet iron pan, six feet long and two feet in width, to be used as a frying-pan, and after that we had fried beef once or twice a week. We had tea or coffee twice a day, (with our breakfast and supper,) with plenty of sugar to accompany it. We had rice, and sugar-house syrup, bean soup, &c. Any one finding fault with our fare at this time would be apt to be dissatisfied wherever he were placed.

Tuesday, 25th, was a cloudy, misty day, and in the night it rained quite hard. Wednesday morning it cleared off in time for us to drill. It had rained just enough to soften the clay, the mud being shallow and as slippery as grease a peculiarity in the mud about here. You can appreciate this kind of travelling by spreading lard an inch thick upon a plank, and then attempting to walk upon it. One advantage in this kind of soil is that when it dries it becomes as hard as a cement floor, which made it easier for us than to have been wallowing through sand. The weather continued pleasant, no dust blowing about and into every thing; the ground was hard, in the best condition for drilling, and our regiment improved it.

The 27th was Thanksgiving Day in Rhode Island, and also duly observed by us in camp. We were relieved from drill, attended divine service at eleven, A.M., and had a little recreation, walking about the country, &c. Our bed-sacks were now given out to us, with plenty of clean straw to fill them with. (These sacks were made of stout ticking, and were, perhaps, seven feet long and five feet wide, after they were filled; amply large enough, each of them, for two to lie upon.) The regiment were all provided with these sacks, and had lain upon the ground long enough to know how to appreciate them. The 27th was a beautiful day, and having never been to Alexandria, I took this opportunity to visit the place. Procured a pass, and in company with one of our mess, at eight, A.M., started. We struck a “bee line” directly for the place; passed over the road leading from Fairfax Seminary, and continued on, up hill and down, our path being parallel with the Alexandria and Manassas wagon road, and just to the north of it. I found I had underrated the distance from our camp to Alexandria, it being nearly two and one-half miles from our camp. We passed the Convalescent Camp, which was situated on the heights to the west of Alexandria, and to the north of Fort Ellsworth, on the same eminence, and in the immediate vicinity of it. It was used as a rendezvous for convalescent soldiers. In the vicinity of this camp was the Stragglers’ Camp and the Recruiting Camp, &c.; making, in the aggregate, an immense collection of tents and occupants.

Passing down the road leading from this camp to the east, we came into Alexandria; the distance was, perhaps, one-half mile; the descent being as steep as the roof of a house. From the heights we had just left, we had a splendid view of the country for miles around. The city of Washington, to the north of us, was in full view, the Capitol looming up in the distance. Fairfax Seminary was two miles to the north-west of us, from the tower of which the rebels observed our movements, and signalled them to the enemy, while making our first advance to and inglorious retreat from Bull Run, in 1861. The city of Alexandria was a short distance to the east, and perhaps one hundred feet beneath us. We had also a good view of the Potomac from this height. Aquia Creek being the base of Burnside’s operations in Virginia, this noble stream was covered with vessels of every size and description, plying to and fro, between Aquia Creek, Alexandria and Washington. I stopped in Alexandria until half-past two, P.M.; went down to the wharves, visited the Slave Pens, once used as a rendezvous where slaves were bought and sold, but at the time of my visit used as a place of confinement for deserters, and others who might be found without passes, by the police. I also visited the Marshall House, where Ellsworth was killed; and started from there for camp.

I arrived in time to attend the funeral of one of our boys who died in the hospital the day before. This was the first death that had occurred in our regiment since we arrived in Washington, and the third since the regiment was organized; the other two being killed, first, the drummer of Company D, from Newport, in a fray at Camp Stevens, the second of Company C, on the cars, between Harrisburg and Baltimore. There were but few of our regiment now in the hospital, and none of them dangerously sick.

Saturday, the 29th, was a pleasant day; the night was still and cold. Sunday morning, the 30th, we found the ground slightly frozen, and ice in the tubs about camp one-half inch thick. The weather continued fine as yet. We had fine mornings here, the air was still, and every thing seemed delightful. The smoke from the numerous camp fires, made the atmosphere hazy, reminding one of our Indian summer in New England.