Arkansas True Democrat, Little Rock CS
The high price of provisions has again forced our military authorities to fix the prices of leading articles. The families of volunteers, as well as many others, could not afford to pay $4 or $5 per bushel for sweet potatoes, $20 per 100 for flour, 50 cents per lb. for bacon, etc. We have no doubt but the country will thank Gen. Holmes for this order. The spirit of greed and extortion should be put down, and if milder means will not succeed, the strong arm of military authority must do it. The question of providing for the families of soldiers is becoming a serious one, and the sooner we look it square in the face the better.

Van Buren, Aug. 20th, 1862.
R. H. Johnson, Esq.—
Dear Sir: The enclosed letter from Mrs. Dunn to her husband's brother informing him of the murder of her husband by a party of Missouri militia, you will find of sufficient interest for publication. Wm. and Jas. H. Dunn were beef contractors in Price's army and gentlemen of high standing.
Respectfully yours,
Wm. Walker.

June 25th, 1862.
To Mr. J. H. Dunn—
Dear Brother: I have sad news to communicate to you. Poor William came home Saturday evening. Johnson and Clay were here when he came home. He had not been here more than a half hour when he went out to put away his horse.—Johnson and Clay went with him. He had just got his saddle off, when 40 or 50 of the State militia came galloping up, and were at the barn gate before they saw them; William and Clay ran into the orchard, and William lay down behind the bushes by the fence; they followed and took Clay prisoner; they fired at William twice but missed him; he then raised up, came out and told them to take him. They questioned him about what he had been doing and he told them he had just come home from Coffee's camp—they said he had come to get news for Coffee, and they would kill him. They took him over the orchard and pasture fences through the woods to hunt Johnson and his horse, (which, of course, he knew nothing about) but they got his horse. They then brought William around to the south gate. He asked them if he might come to the house to see his wife and children, but they cursed him and told him no, so he called me out there and whispered to me to go to the house and empty the pockets of his coat and bring it to him; I did so, and then he told me, "Annie these men are going to kill me, I must bid you good bye, I want you to take care of the children, and do the best you can; Jim will help you raise the children." He then asked me to bring Frank to see him, the lieutenant told him to hurry, I went to the house to get Frank who was asleep and had not yet seen his father since he came home. The lieutenant called William out across the road and told him he should shoot him there and to get through his talk quick. William came back and told mother and me that they were going to kill him right there, but mother and I threw ourselves on him and told them they must kill us first. They ordered us off or they would shoot us, and I think they would have shot us; they then told William to get on his horse, he did so, and took Frank in his arms and told him good bye, and those men were going to kill his father. Frank cried and screamed, and said, men don't kill my pa! and I told them to look at those two little helpless children and then tell me if they could have the heart to kill my husband, but they only cursed and mocked us; but told us they would not hurt him, only take him with them. So they started down the country road toward Fidelity; then after going about a quarter of a mile they stopped, (so Clay says) made him get off his horse, and took him through the woods down a hollow to the left and there by a big tree shot him with six balls. We heard the firing and followed—I found him on his knees with his poor face in a pool of blood; I called him and though he answered, but no, his lips were sealed in death. He was shot twice in the head, three times in the left arm and once in the left side. We laid him to rest by his father's side in the grave yard, at the meeting house. He looked very natural—he must have died instantly. Jimmy try to bear it the best you can, it is a severe affliction to us all. I don't want you to come home, stay away until you know it is safe to come, or you may share the same fate. Mother says she wants us to be together now, there are so few of us; but she is afraid to go south at this season of the year. What do you think it advisable for us to do?
The same crowd of State militia under Lieut. Lefevre, passed here yesterday (Monday) going back to Mt. Vernon. The union men, Andy Foster, the Motleys, Willoughbys, Smiths and Oliver, that came in with the State militia Saturday, as soon as they heard what had happened, left that night without waiting to cut their wheat, they were afraid to stay. Jimmy, on no account, attempt to come home, but as soon as you think it best, we will come to you, if we are spared.
Clay says, after they had killed him, Lieut. Lefevre rode among his men asking who would have his hat; none would take it so he threw it, and his coat to Clay, and told him, damn him, take them and go take care of that man. We met Clay bringing his hat and coat, and he turned back with us to search for William.
I want you to let the Southern men read of this cold blooded murder. We are going to try and get Mr. May to go and see you.
From your afflicted sister-in-law,
Annie C. Dunn.