The letter writers which follow Hooker
's army are constantly covering him over with their fulsome praises.
They are no doubt fed and possibly feed for them.
At the crossing to the Wilderness
he sat in his saddle watching the scene "with the rains of his command well in hand,"--he was the last to cross, and cutting away the bridge, swore there should be "no more crossing by that way!
In the hurried march from Stafford
, he was in the van picking up people who professed to be going to mill.
Such people were not to be trusted — and Hooker
knew well enough the cat in the meal table&c. These writers make him always and everywhere great.
A whipping exalts him and we now even find him unappalled by the lightnings of Heaven!
One of his adulators says:
On Thursday afternoon, while the storm was raging in its fury, the thunders rolling and the lightning flashing, General Hooker
and staff rode up and dismounted under a group of large shade trees, the place selected for camp.
A flash of lightning struck and ran down the branches of one but a short distance from where the General
stood, splitting the limbs from the parent stem and stripping the bark for a distance of twenty feet. The shock was severe.
The General, however, was perfectly calm, and appeared as though nothing had happened.
Orders were given and work went on as though nothing had taken place; yet I noticed several with pate faces.