assuring the audience that, although the General did not often make speeches, he would sing the “Star-Spangled Banner.” This was, indeed, a risky promise, as I had never heard the General sing. I was greatly relieved by his exclamation:
And he did sing the song admirably, the company joining with much enthusiasm.
As the hour was late, and we had enjoyed quite a number of potations of hot Irish whiskey punch, we decided to go to our lodgings long before the end of the revel, which appeared likely to last until daybreak. When we descended to the street we were unable to find a carriage, but Longstreet proposed to be my guide; and, although the streets were dark and the walk a long one, we reached my hotel in fairly good form. Not wishing to be outdone in courtesy, I said,—
“Longstreet, the streets of Atlanta are very dark and it is very late, and you are somewhat deaf and rather infirm; now I must escort you to your head-quarters.”
“All right,” said Longstreet; “come on and we’ll have another handshake over the bloody chasm.”
When we arrived at his stopping-place and were about to separate, as I supposed, he turned to me and said,—
“Sickles, the streets of Atlanta are very dark and you are lame, and a stranger here, and do not know the way back to your hotel; I must escort you home.”
“Come along, Longstreet,” was my answer.
On our way to the hotel, I said to him,—