We Arrive at New York.
Nov. 1. We left Worcester about 5 o’clock last evening. Arriving at Norwich, we went aboard the large and splendid Steamer Connecticut, the regiment numbering one thousand and thirty, with all our horses, wagons and camp equipage. The staunch steamer bore us rapidly across the sound, landing us in New York about 9 o’clock this morning.
After disembarking and forming the regiment, we marched amid a perfect storm of applause and the New Yorker’s peculiar “hi! hi!” to the City Hall park. A guard was then posted and the regiment dismissed until drum call. A committee of gentlemen waited on the colonel, inviting him, his officers and the band, to a dinner at the Astor House. After they had gone, we fellows, by invitation, marched into the park barracks, to regale ourselves on mutton soup. And in all fairness, I must say that a worse soup or dirtier surroundings never came under my observation. I didn’t hanker for any, and beat a hasty retreat. If that soup didn’t smell to heaven, it must have attained a high altitude above the city. Fortunate New Yorkers, that dwell in basements. I suppose the evening papers will have it that the 25th Massachusetts regiment dined at the Astor House. So we shall get the name, if we missed the turkey. Feeling inclined to take a stroll and see the sights of the big city (the guards not being very effective), it was an easy matter to break the bounds, and we had things our own way until about 4 o’clock, when the regiment was again formed.
Marching Down Broadway.
With an easy, swinging gait, in column of platoons, we marched down Broadway, looking the very soul of soldiery, and were greeted with a perfect ovation all along the route, until we reached the Jersey City ferry, when we crossed to Jersey City, and took cars for Philadelphia.
A Streak of Luck.
While waiting in the cars at Jersey City, the depot and platforms were crowded with people, all anxious to see and talk with us. Happening to have a seat next to the window, a gentleman engaged me in conversation. He asked all manner of questions about the regiment, and among others, if we were well provided for, meaning, I supposed, with everything, blankets, rations, etc. I said we seemed to be well provided with everything, except perhaps the sinews of war; in that direction I thought we were rather weak. On hearing that, he drew from the depths of his pantaloons pocket, a couple of half dollars and tendered me, which I accepted with many thanks, and best wishes for his health and happiness. That was true patriotism; good fellow! long may you wave.