We lost
one man at Murfreesboro, I.T. Preston, brother of the Prestons of
Carrollton. We stayed in camp for seven days when General Forrest
determined to attack again and took one section of the battery with
him,--the other section, the one I belong to, was sent to protect
his wagon-train. Two days afterwards the army commenced its retreat
from Nashville (the particulars of which no doubt you have already
learned). Our march was over a muddy and rugged road for fifty
miles to Columbia. It was the severest march I ever undertook: we
pushed and worked at the wheels all the time. The horses finally
broke down, and we had to take oxen and yoke them in and drive
them. Can you imagine me up to my knees in mud, barefooted and
muddy, with a long pole, driving oxen. It was a very picturesque
scene, and no doubt the 'Yankee Illustrators' would pay a good
price for such a picture. I was about on a par with two-thirds of
the others, and we made as merry as possible under the
circumstances. We had no rations, and lived entirely on the people:
they treated us splendidly, gave us more than we could eat, and
left us duly indebted to them for their many kindnesses.
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