A Trip to Nashville.
[special Correspondence of the Dispatch.] Nashville, Tenn., Jan. 9th, 1862.
As the traveler glides along by railway from Chattanooga to Nashville, the scene prevented to him for several miles is most picturesque, seven at this season of the year.
To his right, stretching out as far as his vision can penetrate, he beholds an endless allocation of undulating mountains clothed in "assure hue." At his feet runs, the noble river which bears the name of Tennessee.
On its left bank the cane grows — a grateful evergreen, and on its right, the tall cliffs, smooth as if from the hands of the lapidary, glass themselves beautifully in the shining stream below.
After crossing the Tennessee we came to the Raccoon Mountains, famous for the excellent coal with which they furnish the city of Nashville.
On one of the topmost knobs where one would suppose only the scream of the eagle could be heard, sits the shanty of a Raccoon in the shape of man, filled with the noise of many precious little raccoons.--Some wag, on seeing this lofty habitation, or "Raccoon hollow," as he termed it, has paraphrased a very familiar stanza of sacred poetry, which, without intention of being impious, is here inserted: When I can read my title clear To shanties in the skies,
I'll bid farewell to every fear
And wipe my raccoon eyes!
Besides the tunnel through the Cumberland mountains, and the site of the great Allisona Spinning and Weaving Works, where a fortune was spent in preparation for a grand method of disposing of the raw material, but which fell fire destroyed in a night, there is little or nothing to attract the attention of the voyager. The farmers in this country have an original way of sowing wheat. The grain is scattered in the corn-field while yet the corn is ungathered, and also in the cotton-fields while the bolls are white with King Cotton. The earth is lapped around the stalks, and the middle of the row is thrown out, as Virginians "lay by" corn. In the spring, before the wheat gets in the boot, they cut down the stalks. While this is a rough mode of farming, it affords full time for the crops to mature, and still accomplishes the seeding of wheat in due season. It is rumored here that the Federals are crossing Green River in force. Buell is said to be sending over six or eight regiments every day. Still, the impression here is that there will be no fight. It is an impossible thing to learn the truth where there are so many and such conflicting statements. I shall reach Bowling Green to-morrow, and the readers of the Dispatch may rest assured that I will avail myself of all opportunities to obtain the latest and most reliable information. I shall take care not to mislead, but, if possible, to enlighten the public as to army matters in Kentucky. Occasional.
