In my post dated Dec. 28, 2012 (A Christmas Gift for Sgt. Hirst) I related how Sgt. Hirst’s wife, Sarah, surprised him by appearing at the door of his hut on Christmas Eve. It was also remarkable because it was rare that an enlisted man’s wife would even be allowed such a visit. Conversely, officers’ wives were frequently permitted to visit their husbands, so the visit of Captain Fiske’s wife, Elizabeth, as mentioned in last week’s post was not unique at all. What made her visit special to the regiment was the way in which she was received.

Many of the officers’ wives would visit Stony Mountain during this winter encampment, but Elizabeth Fiske was the first to arrive. In History of the Fourteenth Regiment, Connecticut Vol. Infantry, Charles Page wrote: “She (Mrs. Fiske) was heartily welcomed and was the object of much attention. The band serenaded her with some of its sweetest music and Lieutenant-Colonel Moore tendered her a dinner at which the regimental officers were present. The menu was most elaborate, consisting of soup, roast beef, turkey, chicken, plum pudding, four kinds of pie, nuts, apples, cider and champagne, and two loaves of cake handsomely frosted, which the sutler brought from Washington as a present to the popular Lieutenant-Colonel. The band also added its finest strains to further complete the occasion.”

As this was the only recorded instance of such a welcome dinner, it makes one wonder how the wives of the other officers were received.

Capt. Samuel Fiske (14th Conn. Vol. Inf., Co. F), under the pen name Dunn Browne, wrote to his faithful readers of the Springfield, Mass. Republican newspaper about the necessity for having a properly constructed chimney, having done it several times during the last several weeks.

“All my odd-numbered chimneys have drawn finely, while the even-numbered ones have smoked, though constructed with equal skill—my personal beauty renders it specially necessary to take pains with a chimney at whose fireside I am to sit—laid up with the same kinds of sod s and stones and plastered with mud of the same consistency. Virginia is the most consistently muddy state that I know; always mud enough in your front dooryard to plaster up your chimney, and of the stickiest kind. Won’t you come and sit with me some of these long winter evenings, dear Republican, and perhaps your different style of beauty might counteract mine and my chimney become perfect?”

The above was written while Fiske sat in hut number four, before the regiment moved to Stony Mountain on Dec. 27, 1863. After the move and setting up camp in cold, driving rain, he wrote, “The storm continued for three days, and was succeeded by the snappingest cold weather. For me personally, you know, the change was all right; for my present chimney draws like a blister, and never smokes any more than my mother.”

My present house has a real door, with hinges and screws and latch and bolt; an actual shovel and tongs standing by the fireplace; chairs, tale mirror, etc., yes, positively a carpet on the floor. But, beyond all the rest of the furniture, my chief ornamentation and pride, which makes me the envy of all the regiment and brigade is—a wife and baby.”

Yes, Fiske was somehow able to manage living in a small house, rather than a log hut, and he also arranged to have Elizabeth and their sixteen-month-old son visit for more than two months. His joy and not a little irony flowed into his writing: “We are housekeeping on our front picket line. I have a home, like a bird’s nest on the breech of a cannon. War! I don’t know anything about it. I am at perfect peace.”