"Corporal of the guard, Post Five!" was repeated in succession by the respective posts; bringing that officer on the run, in a few minutes to the post designated. I repeated the request to the "corporal of the guard," a bright little man, about twenty-four years old. He requested us to remain where we were until the "officer of the guard" was consulted, "for ye know we are in the enemy's counthry, and we must be cautious." We assented, of course. Presently a lieutenant made his appearance, and after hearing our story, told us to follow him. We passed the guard and made our way to the colonel's quarters, before which a soldier was leisurely pacing. The lieutenant entered, but returned in a moment and desired me to follow him. I did so, and found myself in a group of officers. I saluted and came to "attention." "Well, sergeant, what can we do for you?" kindly asked an officer with the eagles of a colonel on his shoulders. "We are benighted, sir; my men and I landed at the Fort this morning, and are on the way to find our regiments. We have had nothing to eat in twelve hours. We're hungry and tired, and claim your hospitality for the night." "May I ask what command you belong to, sir?" "My regiment is the Sixty-Third New York, colonel, and the detachment is for that regiment and the Eighty-Eighth New York." "What! Gen. Meagher, the Irish Brigade! Consider yourself at home, sergeant. The best in our camp is at your service. You can have all you can eat and drink, and a place to rest. Orderly," addressing a soldier in front of the tent, "send Sergeant ---- to me." "I see by your chevrons you are a non-commissioned officer. May I ask your name?" addressing me. "Sergeant J---- D----, Company K, colonel," was my response. The sergeant made his appearance, and Col. Cass (for we learned, subsequently, it was he) gave him directions to take Sergeant D----and his men, and give them everything they wanted for the night, and their breakfast before leaving in the morning. As we were about retiring the colonel remarked:-- "The night is chilly, sergeant; fog is heavy, malaria abroad, and you are tired. Wouldn't you like something in the way of liquid refreshments?" "Thanks, colonel," I replied; "but the Sixty-Third is a temperance regiment.[9] We took the pledge from Father Dillon, last January, on David's Island, New York Harbor, for the war." "Is it possible? I am glad to hear it! God bless you. I trust you will keep your pledge, not only for the war, but for all future time." I thanked him, gave him a salute and retired.