If there was one feature in the South which annoyed the Federal commanders more than another it was the railroad system. Through its medium they were enabled to supply their armies from the great plantation centres where war was unknown. With a railroad at the back of each army, they were enabled to move with small wagon trains, and could utilize troops that would otherwise have been detached as guards. By its potent power, also, the troops were hurried from point to point of the Confederacy, thus keeping the Federal armies so long outside the charmed circle of the seceded States. With worn-out rails, scant supply of carriage-material, and wheezy engines, they performed herculean labor throughout the war. Consequently it became the favorite pastime and the almost sole business of Union cavalry to destroy or attempt destruction of railroad communication. Thousands upon thousands of valuable lives were sacrificed in such movements, and without any material damage to the fighting centre of the Confederacy.
Our department commander, becoming infatuated with this method of making war upon the South, was urging his corps towards a well-known railroad junction one clear, cool day in December, '62. We were some fifty miles from our base, and bodies of the enemy were continually harassing our line of march, sometimes meeting us in sharp conflict, and at all times impeding our progress by road-obstruction. Already the killed and wounded were counted by hundreds, and the coveted goal still far away. As we plodded wearily along, wondering what would happen next, one of the division staff dashed up to our brigadier and ordered him to detach one of his regiments and send it to support cavalry that had seized a bridge some miles to our right. It was the fortune of our regiment to be detached for the service, and we marched into a wood-road, rather depressed in feelings, and sadly missing that sense of security which the fellowship of a large body of men gives to the soldier. On we went for about three miles through dense woods that chilled one's very marrow with their gloom. Occasional glimpses of bits of blue sky through the overarching branches were the only reminders that the outside world remained as it used to be. Once or twice we passed small openings in which some poor white had located, and where half-naked children were the only signs of civilization, or, rather, uncivilization, till, at last, under the guidance of a scout, we filed into a clearing about a quarter of a mile from the bridge. Through the woods we could see two guns planted in the road at the bridgehead, and a squadron of dismounted cavalry supporting them. The smoke rising from the partially burnt timbers, and the frequent interchange of rifle and carbine shots, with now and then the roar of artillery, gave ample evidence that business would soon be lively in that locality. The outlook was not at all enlivening; our regiment was small in number, the woods dark and treacherous,--the main army adding mile upon mile to the interval between us,--and we were very forcibly impressed that even railroad-smashing, in plenty of company, was far better than bridge-burning with such lonesome surroundings.