A Confederate Christmas

Originally printed in the Confederate Veteran Magazine, Christmas, 2008
by Mark Vogl
(conservative)
Saturday, December 25, 2010

A Confederate Christmas

" T'was the night before Christmas" Southern Style

modified by Mark Vogl

T 'was the night before Christmas when all through the camp,

Only a sentry was stirring, it was dark, cold and damp.

The cannons were parked, rifles stacked with such care

In hopes that the hated Yankees soon wouldn't be there

Johnny Rebs were all nestled snug in their tents

While visions of home and kin danced in their heads.

And I in my kepi had just closed the flap

And just settled my brains to study my map

When out in the field there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter?

Away to the sentry post I flew like a flash

In such a dog gone hurry, I lost my scarlet sash

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow

Gave the luster of mid day to objects below.

When what to my straining eyes should appear,

But a senior officer, and mounted escort approaching us near.

So graceful and steady they rode as a pack

I knew in a moment it must be ole Jack.

More rapid than eagles as coursers they came,

And he whistled and shouted and he called them by name.

"Now Virginians, now Georgians, and Southerners all

Come Stuart, come Pelham, come Hood's Texans tall,

To horse and to wagon, don't tarry or fall,

Now dash away, dash away dash away all

As fast as they came, I thought Stonewall's kepi would fly,

He rode through our camp on Old Sorrel and my tent he went bye

Scattered and hurried, past us they flew

With more officers following, General Beauregard too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard from behind

The clatter of sabers, and spurs of a kind

As I drew in my head, and was turning around

Opening the back tent flap, Ole Jack came with a bound

He was dressed all in gray, from his head to his foot

And his clothes were all tarnished with powder and soot

A bundle of packages he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a subtler, just opening his sack.

His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

The war had so far not taken too much of a toll

And the beard on his chin was as black as Dixie coal.

A peal of lemon he held tight in his teeth

Three stars on his collar surrounded in gold wreath

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

Though not chubby or plump, still a right jolly old elf

And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

On his way to Richmond, to see the old man

And wondered if for Lee, we might have a spare ham?

For Ole Marse Robert had called, seeking food not for him,

But for veterans, and widows, and orphans too slim.

The bugler I called without a moment's delay

And the men scrambled to ranks, thinking war on the way.

But when Lee's name was mentioned a cheer did go up

And Ole Jack's wagons were filled with tomorrow's Christmas sup.

He sprang to his steed, to his men gave a whistle,

And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle,

But I heard him exclaim, ere they rode out of sight,

"A Dixie Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

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©2010 Mark Vogl, all rights reserved. You must have written permission from the author in order to republish this work.
Published: Saturday, December 25, 2010
Last modified: Saturday, December 25, 2010

The views expressed in this article are those of Mark Vogl only and do not represent the views of Nolan Chart, LLC or its affiliates. Mark Vogl is solely responsible for the contents of this article and is not an employee or otherwise affiliated with Nolan Chart, LLC in his/her role as a columnist.

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