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We left our camp on Monday morning, November 3d,
and were formed in line, on the road leading to Grand Junction,
where we were necessitated to remain two or three hours before
we got into motion; but the advance was finally made, and we are
off for the interior of Dixie, with blanket and haversack, hoping
to get a chance to meet or come up with Price and his swift running
cohorts and army, that would rather run than fight.
This being the third time the Seventy-Eighth had
entered upon its march to the Junction, we thought surely it would
be the charm. The roads were terribly dusty, but that made no
difference, and we pulled up and encamped for the first night,
about two miles south of Van Buren, where we had abundance of
good chestnut rails for fires, making the best of that night.
After breakfast was over, we soon put out again on our march.
The First Tennessee Cavalry (Union) in the advance; and of course
they are acquainted in these parts, and know well who are secesh,
and who are not, but as nearly all are the former, you may easily
imagine how property had to suffer. The fences along the roads
were all in flames, which were sometimes difficult to pass. At
one place an old rebel had his wenches out tearing down the rails,
making an effort to extinguish the flames. All his bucks I presume
had run away, and left the glory of servitude. On the next plantation
not only the fencing, but a fine dwelling, costing twenty thousand
dollars, was wrapped in flames, the rebel women having only time
to get out that indispensable article in southern chivalry, the
piano. I suppose our cavalry wanted them to console themselves
"Hard Times," or something after the same sort. The
old man had ran
off in search of his rights, leaving the women and children to
the vandals. The voice of approval was heard to pass along our
lines, that is right, destroy everything they have got, and then
their war will end,
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