e rebs are making a desperate effort for the recapture of this
country. We are in their very granary and without it they cannot live. A
report is rife that Thomas has evacuated Chattanooga, but I trust it is
not so. I would write, but there is no communication open yet.

[Sidenote: 1863 Hard Going]

Camp in Oak Barrens, Tenn., Tuesday, Nov. 10. Prepared for an early
march. Moved at 9 A. M. as we had to wait for the 2nd Brigade to move
ahead. Passed through town, which is an old fashioned place of quite a
size. Looks as though it was the same twenty years ago. Of course it was
perfectly dead, no sign of trade or purchase of any kind. Crossed Elk
River two miles from the town on the best bridge I ever saw. It is built
of solid stone all hewed, five arches, with a foot path on top of each
side wall. It is but a single track erected in 1861. Poor country!
After we left the river valley, nearly deserted fields lie idle. About
noon we entered the Oak Barrens, so called from its sterility. It is a
perfectly flat tract of land with a yellow clay soil. Oak openings, no
underbrush, the oak not very large. It lies lower than the surrounding
country and covered with pond holes which we rendered bottomless with a
little travel, the wheels cut down so. No houses or fields to be seen.
Went into camp in the first field we saw for five miles, and that was
deserted. 4th Platoon wheel horse fell dead to-night before it came to
camp. He was the biggest and best horse of the Battery, supposed to be
overdone. Train of cars passed out on the Fayetteville branch loaded
with crackers for our camp. It was escorted by two regiments of Slocum's
Corps, the New York and Pennsylvania regiments. Mail received. I got
letter from home of the 25th ult., so we are once more approaching the
Union lines. No news or paper seen save wild camp rumors which are
conflicting. No corn to feed our horses to-night. I am on guard.

Winchester, Tenn., Wednesday, Nov. 11. Called up at 4 A. M. Harnessed
before daylight. The horses covered with frost. Cold work for bare
hands. Started as soon as daylight; about seven miles more of barrens
without a house or trace of civilization. Slough holes very often, the
pioneer corps bridging many of them while we waded through the others.
Four or five horses gave out before we got through. Three left behind.
Came out of there by noon on higher ground, well settled, but not very
productive. Citizens look decidedly Secesh. Passe