, addressing Frederic Ingham, Esq., Waterville, N.
H. Nor is it anybody's business how long I had then been on Garibaldi's
staff. From the number of his staff-officers who have since visited me
in America, very much in want of a pair of pantaloons, or a ticket to
New York, or something with which they might buy a glass of whiskey, I
should think that his staff alone must have made up a much more
considerable army than Naples, or even Sybaris, ever brought into the
field. But where these men were when I was with him, I do not know. I
only know that there was but a handful of us then, hard-worked fellows,
good-natured, and not above our work. Of its military details we knew
wretchedly little. But as we had no artillery, ignorance was less
dangerous in the chief of artillery; as we had no maps to draw, poor
draughtsmanship did not much embarrass the engineer in chief. For me, I
was nothing but an aid, and I was glad to do anything that fell to me as
well as I knew how. And, as usual in human life, I found that a cool
head, a steady resolve, a concentrated purpose, and an unselfish
readiness to obey, carried me a great way. I listened instead of
talking, and thus got a reputation for knowing a great deal. When the
time to act came, I acted without waiting for the wave to recede; and
thus I sprang into many a boat dry-shod, while people who believed in
what is popularly called prudence missed their chance, and either lost
the boat or fell into the water.

This is by the way. It was under these circumstances that I received my
orders, wholly secret and unexpected, to take a boat at once, pass the
straits, and cross the Bay of Tarentum, to communicate at Gallipoli
with--no matter whom. Perhaps I was going to the "Castle of Otranto." A
hundred years hence anybody who chooses will know. Meanwhile, if there
should be a reaction in Otranto, I do not choose to shorten anybody's
neck for him.

Well, it was five in the afternoon,--near sundown at that season. I
went to dear old Frank Chaney,--the jolliest of jolly Englishmen, who
was acting quartermaster-general,--and told him I must have
transportation. I can see him and hear him now,--as he sat on his barrel
head, smoked his vile Tunisian tobacco in his beloved short meerschaum,
which was left to him ever since he was at Bonn, as he pretended, a
student with Prince Albert. He did not swear,--I don't think he ever
did. But he looked perplexed enough to swear. And very droll was the