The Fair Ground, on
which we are encamped, is simply a clearing in the wood, without buildings, fence
or shade. But it is a pleasant place, near a spring of good water, and
bordering on the Holston River. I have just returned from the city, where I
have spent most of the day. These are glorious days for the people of
Knoxville. They tell me the day of their deliverance has come at last. The
story of their sufferings has been but feebly told. Even a Brownlow cannot do
it justice. Hundreds of citizens followed us to their homes, from which they
had been driven a year or more ago. They are flocking in by fifties and by
hundreds and are organizing for their own defense. We have given them the
oportunity, and they are eager to embrace it. One lady told me it was with
difficulty she could repress a shout of joy as she saw our blue coats filing
down the streets. Loyalty here is pure and unalloyed, as proven by the
sacrifices they have made.
We are objects of
much curiosity. An old gentle man, a preacher, walked six miles to see us. We
were the first Northern men he ever saw. He said he could not express his gratitude
to us for their timely deliverance.
Parson Brownlow is
expected here soon. I saw his son today. He is a noble-looking fellow, about 21
years of age; is Lieutenant Colonel of a regiment that has been raised since
Burnside came here. Burnside is the hero of the hour in East Tennessee.
It is twenty days
since I received my last mail. During all that time I have not seen a
newspaper, therefore am totally ignorant of what is taking place in other parts
of the world.
SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of
a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 95-6
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