New York, May 25
.--This morning, about one o'clock, a party of ladies and gentlemen, numbering some forty in all, alighted from one of the Third Avenue cars, and drew up in line at the southwest corner of the Park Barracks
The gentlemen formed a half-circle, in the centre of which the ladies took their position — the crowd inside of the barracks clustering about the paling, wondering what was to come of the gathering.
The morning was one of the very loveliest, and well calculated to bring feelings of inspiration to the bosoms of the very dullest.
The queen of night shone with its clearest ray, and under the floods of splendid light which it poured down upon the camp ground, the ladies' silvery voices rang out the ever-cheering and patriotic “Star-spangled Banner.”
The ladies sang unaccompanied by male voices.
The effect produced by their clear, beautiful tones, was indescribable.
The denizens of the Astor, who had laid themselves away for the night on couches of luxury, and — the poor mendicants, who had sought repose on the forsaken door-steps, were alike charmed from their resting-places to listen to this novel concert of the early morning hour.
As the last strains of the melody died away in the distance, they, too, sent up their voices with the lusty cheers of the soldiers, who complimented the ladies with three-times-three and a “tiger.”
It was a stirring scene, and one long to be remembered by those who witnessed it. At the conclusion of the singing, the gentlemen who accompanied the ladies stepped up to the palings, and furnished the soldiers with an abundant supply of cigars and tobacco.
The company then took their departure as noiselessly as they had come, attended by the best wishes of the men they had so generously remembered.--N. Y. Sunday Mercury, May 26