the confidence of the troops, “foreign intervention.”  They reasoned that a great victory by the South would cause our government to be recognized by the foreign powers and the South given a footing as a distinct, separate, and independent nation among all other great nations of the earth.  That the South would no longer be looked upon as an “Insurrectionary Faction,” “Erring Sisters,” or “Rebellious Children.”  Our ports had been ordered closed by the North, and an imaginary blockade, a nominal fleet, stood out in front of our harbors.  Our people thought the world’s desire for the South’s cotton would so influence the commercial and laboring people of Europe that the powers would force the North to declare her blockade off.  Such were some of the feelings and hopes of a large body of our troops, as well as the citizens of the country at large.  But it all was a fallacy, a delusion, an ignis fatuus.  The North was aroused to double her former fury, her energies renewed and strengthened, tensions drawn, her ardor largely increased, her feelings doubly embittered, and the whole spirit of the North on fire.  Now the cry was in earnest, “On to Richmond,” “Down with the rebellion,” “Peace and unity.”  The Northern press was in a perfect blaze, the men wild with excitement, and every art and device was resorted to to arouse the people to arms.  The stain of defeat must now be wiped out; a stigma had been put upon the nation, her flag disgraced, her people dishonored.  Large bounties were offered for volunteers, and the recruiting was earnest and energetic.  Lincoln called for 300,000 more troops, and the same question was asked at the South, “Where will he get them and how pay them?”

We were moved out near Centerville, and a few days afterwards took up camp at Vienna, a small station on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad.  The day after our arrival all of the troops, with the exception of the ordinary detail, were put to work tearing up the railroad track.  It being Sunday, loud complaints were made against this desecration of the Lord’s Day, but we were told there was no difference in days in times of war.  The railroad was a good one and well built on a roadbed of gravel and chips of granite, with solid heart pine or chestnut ties, laid with “T” rails.  The cross-ties were piled in heaps, on these were laid the rails, and all set on fire; then for miles and miles up and down the road the crackling flames, the black smoke twining around the trees and curling upward, shrouded the whole earth with a canopy of black and blue, and told of the destruction that was going on.  Here the troops suffered as seldom during the war for provisions, especially breadstuff.  Loud murmurings were heard on all sides against the commissary department, and the commissary complained of the Quartermaster for not furnishing transportation.  The troops on one occasion here had to go three days and at hard work without one mouthful of bread, except what little they could buy or beg of the citizens of the thinly