It was only the first week in November, but the morning air was keen and frosty, as I made my hurried preparations for leaving Lynchburg, on the East Tennessee Railroad. The “hotel” served up tough beefsteaks and gluey, blueish hot bread for breakfast. Everything was astir, and the little city wore as cheerful an air as though war had not been near its borders. A crowd of passengers pressed into the gloomy-looking depot. But three cars were provided, of which the last was occupied by negroes and soldiers. Into the second the railway officials carefully sorted the gentlemen, and the one nearest the engine was reserved for the ladies. In all, the glass windows had been broken by the soldiers during the war, and the whole Confederacy was unable to furnish glass large enough to repair them. Smaller sash had been accordingly put in and filled by seven-by-nine panes. There was a scramble for seats, and many had to stand for fifty or sixty miles. Icicles hung at the pump spouts and around the water-tanks as the train started; and, for miles among the mountains, the first ice of the season could be seen covering the ponds and reflecting back the glowing tints of the autumnal foliage. From Lynchburg to the Tennessee line (at Bristol,) was a distance of 204 miles, to which our prudent railroad managers devoted twenty-two hours, or an average of a trifle over nine miles an hour! The crowded passengers made loud complaints as they began to ascertain the rate of progress; but a glance at the road from the rear platform was enough to silence the growlers. Crushed rails, occasional gaps where a stone was inserted to prevent the car wheels from coming down to the ties, sharp outward curves (the traces of the twists Yankee raiders had given the rails,) shaky cross-ties and fresh earth-ballasting, combined with curves around mountain precipices, and rough pine trestle-work, where once were substantial bridges, to give one fresh convictions of the need of Accident Insurance Companies. The officers had counted the bad rails, and reported that in an hundred miles an aggregate of not less than sixteen miles ought to be removed without one day’s delay.