Saturday night, April 20th. To-morrow we start for the war. Since Wednesday I have been receiving the utmost attention from everybody. It is so strange to see this wonderful enthusiasm and loyalty. It is impossible for a man in uniform to pay for anything he wants; wherever I go all want to do something for me; in crossing the ferries men filled my pockets with cigars, and even insisted upon my taking money from them, and when I refused, actually forced it into my pockets; they must do something, and look upon us, I suppose, as their representatives. There is no end to their generosity and enthusiasm, which is well for the republic.
I attended a great reception given in my honor at the E-Hotel to-night, which proved a magnificent affair. Everybody that I knew, almost, was there, and fun and frolic with songs, music, and speeches, continued until the clock struck twelve. There were amongst the young fellows a number belonging to a glee club, who sang patriotic and pathetic war-songs innumerable, and contributed immensely to the enjoyment of the evening. When we broke up, and our last good-byes were spoken, every man grasped me by the hand, many of them kissed me, and all united in wishing me good luck and a safe return. After taking an affectionate farewell of one who was more to me than all others, I hastened from the room amidst the cries of “God bless you”; “Take care of yourself”; “Be sure and thrash the rascals,” etc.
It was very hard to part when the time actually came, being my first experience, and I must admit feeling decidedly unwarlike and very desolate. However, I went home, turned into my comfortable bed, wondering what sort of beds we should probably have in the army.
