inia was not likely to be stronger or more
efficient. Equipped with the spoils of many victories, it was more on
a level with the enemy than had hitherto been the case. The ranks
were full. The men were inured to hardships and swift marches; their
health was proof against inclement weather, and they knew their work
on the field of battle. The artillery had recently been reorganised.
During the Peninsular campaign the batteries had been attached to the
infantry brigades, and the indifferent service they had often
rendered had been attributed to the difficulty of collecting the
scattered units, and in handling them in combination. Formed into
battalions of four or six batteries a large number of guns was now
attached to each of the divisions, and each army corps had a strong
reserve; so that the concentration of a heavy force of artillery on
any part of a position became a feasible operation. The cavalry, so
admirably commanded by Stuart, Hampton, and the younger Lees, was not
less hardy or efficient than the infantry, and the morale of the
soldiers of every arm, founded on confidence in themselves not less
than on confidence in their leaders, was never higher.

"After the truce had been agreed upon," says Captain Smith,
"litter-bearers to bring away the dead and wounded were selected from
the command of General Rodes. When they had fallen in, General Rodes
said to them: "Now, boys, those Yankees are going to ask you
questions, and you must not tell them anything. Be very careful about
this." At this juncture one of the men spoke up, and said, "General,
can't we tell them that we whipped them yesterday?" Rodes replied,
laughing: "Yes, yes! you can tell them that." Immediately another man
spoke up: "General, can't we tell them that we can whip them tomorrow
and the day after?" Rodes again laughed, and sent those incorrigible
jokers off with: "Yes, yes! go on, go on! Tell them what you please.""

The Army of the Potomac, on the other hand, was not likely to become
weaker or less formidable if time were allowed it to recuperate. It
had behind it enormous reserves. 60,000 men had been killed, wounded,
or captured since the battle of Kernstown, and yet the ranks were as
full as when McClellan first marched on Richmond. Many generals had
disappeared; but those who remained were learning their trade; and
the soldiers, although more familiar with defeat than victory, showed
little diminution of martial ardour. Nor had the strain