I, of course, had an introduction to these gentlemen, and they were informed by Sergt. Ziegle and Peter Ahl that I was the man who furnished the best part of the money towards bringing the dead bodies of Danner and Eurick to Little York. They bursted into tears and thanked me most cordially, paid me back the amount laid out, and then again thanked me heartily for my kindness, and wanted me positively to promise them that I would call upon them when I got my discharge, to which I could not possibly make answer.
We then took a walk around town, talking about the bloody battles fought in Mexico. And I assure you the inner man was well supplied with the best of wines and eatables; after which we parted.
In the evening we divided in different squads, and took supper at different houses. So the sociability and generosity of the good citizens of Harrisburg will ever be remembered by the soldiers of the Mexican war the longest day of their lives.
Saturday, July 22, 1848.—This morning we were all formed into line, with our side-arms, to attend the funeral of our late Governor, Francis R. Shunk, which was largely attended, all business being suspended and the church-bells tolling doleful sounds. After the funeral was over we marched back to the railroad depot, where we got on the cars, and soon afterward left Harrisburg, with three hearty cheers from the soldiers of the Mexican war for the many kindnesses and liberality the citizens have seen proper to bestow upon us. The cheers fairly echoed through the valley and shook the Susquehanna River. We dashed along the Susquehanna River until the warning whistle blew, the engine slowly gliding along until we passed Middletown, then steadily increasing the speed until we are running at the rate of thirty to thirty-five miles per hour; dashed over a high bridge over the Conewago Creek, past trees and fences, farm-houses and splendid large barns, through deep cuts of rock—people standing and, no doubt, wondering what kind of men are these in the cars, all
