The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-12-20
Delayed Dispatches.

SERGEANT WoRDEN: You have my per-
mission to tell the story of that Christmas
time in 1862, but in such a way as to reveal
the identity of none of the participants. 1
can trust to your judgment to so transpose
the incidents into new localities and place
the actors under new names, as not to dis
close the ridiculous position l occupied in
the story. BREv. MAJ.-GEN. HOBBS.
will give the story, then, in the
generals own words, as | recall them
through the haze of years and the odor-
GUS haze of cigar-smoke in the club
room, where he smilingly told me the
simple story, but story of interest as
shedding some side light on troubous
time in our national history. He said:
" was in temporary command of
corps of the Army of the umberland,
and my headquarters were at Nash
vile, Tenn. To say that the prospects
of the Union army were dark at that
time conveys only a faint picture of the
utter encouragement felt by the whole
army. The usually cold December,
which we seemed to have brought with
us from the North, caused our men to
crouch and shiver on their guard-posts,
and look into the hospitals revealed
our wounded covering on illy-covered
barrack beds, while the rafting win
dows were covered with soldiers blank
cts to keep out the raw wind so seldom
felt in middle Tennessee. The eXhil-
aration OF the dawning year 1862, with
is gilded hopes irradiating the victo-
ries of Mill Spring, Bowling Green,
Donaldson, and Henry, had faded
away in the autumnal gloom of lesser
though continuous defeats all along the
line. December came in on scattered
and watchful groups of the Western
army brooding over phase of war to-
tally unexpected and seemingly unpre-
pared for. The South had developed
its wonderful cavalry tactics. Wheeler
had sprung like tiger on weak points,
and LETT devastation and ruin among
our slOw-moving but brave infantry.
Forrest had gone flashing like meteor
along our line of communication leav-
ing smoking ruins where of late stood
our rich stores of bread and meat for
the sustenance of waiting men at the
front. Outposts of our infantry had
arisen in the morning to find them
selves surrounded, and the formalty of
laying down their arms and signing
their paroles was all they had to do to
complete their shame. Trenton, Hum.
boldt, Union City fell before Forrest
and his brigade of laughing, singing,
but victorious raiders. John H. Nor
gan, the subject of laudatory song in
playhouse and camp-truly marvel
Gus, willy, and brave man, whom it is
no shame to praise now that his name
is passed into history, howbeit at one
time our mortal dread and enemy.
Morgan, who mounted his men on
bluegrass racing stock, and solemnly
gave in exchange his sore-backed,
worn-out steeds. Morgan, who sat in
the parquette of the old Cherry-street
Theater in Nashville, surrounded by
thousand Union soldiers, and heard
song about himself; yea, and laughed
and applauded when Charley Everett
sang John Morgan's got yer mule
Aye, that was the material composing
the raiders who sent sorrow to the
heart of the Western army on this 1st
OF December, 1862.
MY daughter had arrived month be-
fore via Cincinnati and Louisville, and
had given sunny CLEAN to headouar-
tiers life. Mamie was only an ordinary
girl. am her father, and | ought to
know. She was only healthy, good
natured, romping, fathers girl. A lit
Tie given to slang and very much given
20 notwithstanding, and sat on cap
tured white FLY and watched brigade
drill and review, and | suppose caused
terrible raid on suffers stores for per-
fumery and new uniform braid and
shoulder-straps. My staff, of course,
were all on their good behavior, and
shoes were carefully BACKED and spurs
polished, which had been considered
good enough for the old general before
her arrival Her demure acceptance of
escort on her rides, and the flourishing
OF cambria handkerchief for the officers
as they rode away, made old John
Luark, OF Mexican war experience,
remark that headquarters Looked like a
bloody Down East seminary. What
smote upon my fatherly heart as
peculiar aggravation was the prefer
ence evinced by Mamie for young
Kentucky colonel, acting as chief of my
staff. Colonel Barton was not over five
feet and six inches in height. Add to
that the fact of his having stopped
shoulders and Unfortunately long arms,
and you will see why was astonished
lat Mamie's apparent preference for
Barton's society. But if you saw Bar
toms face alone you wondered at its
strange, pensive beauty. Dark, deep
|eyes of brown, dropping, black
mustache, and wide, white forehead
surmounted by curls of the same hue as
his eyes. Looking into his face and
Forgetting his form, you could imagine
him an Arthur or a Bayard; but look
ing on his form as he moved before |
you, you would pity him. On horseback |
pc was a Napoleon First. Well, gave
up. Mamie, the romp, in love with a
.Pigmy; perhaps there is an aptness in
his, for woman will love and fear, or |