e guns of
the second action of Bull Run growled a farewell to me as I resigned my
horse and equipments to a successor. With a trifle of money, I took
passage on a steamer, and landed at Liverpool on the first of October,
1862.

Among my acquaintances upon the ship was a semi-literary adventurer from
New England. I surmised that his funds were not more considerable than
my own; and indeed, when he comprehended my plans, he confessed as much,
and proposed to join enterprises with me.

"Did you ever make a public lecture?" he asked.

Now I had certain blushing recollections of having entertained a
suburban congregation, long before, with didactic critiques upon Byron,
Keats, and the popular poets. I replied, therefore, misgivingly, in the
affirmative, and Hipp, the interrogator, exclaimed at once--

"Let us make a lecturing tour in England, and divide the expenses and
the work; you will describe the war, and I will act as your agent."

With true Yankee persistence Hipp developed his idea, and I consented to
try the experiment, though with grave scruples. It would require much
nerve to talk to strange people upon an excitable topic; and a camp
fever, which among other things I had gained on the Chickahominy, had
enfeebled me to the last degree.

However, I went to work at once, inditing the pages in a snug parlor of
a modest Liverpool inn, while Hipp sounded the patrons and landlord as
to the probable success of our adventure. Opinions differed; public
lectures in the Old World had been generally gratuitous, except in rare
cases, but the genial Irish proprietor of the _Post_ advised me to go on
without hesitation.

We selected for the initial night a Lancashire sea-side town, a summer
resort for the people of Liverpool, and filled at that time with
invalids and pleasure-seekers. Hipp, who was a sort of American
Crichton, managed the business details with consummate tact. I was
announced as the eye-witness and participator of a hundred actions,
fresh from the bloodiest fields and still smelling of saltpetre. My
horse had been shot as I carried a General's orders under the fire of a
score of batteries, and I was connected with journals whose reputations
were world-wide. Disease had compelled me to forsake the scenes of my
heroism, and I had consented to enlighten the Lancashire public, through
the solicitation of the nobility and gentry. Some of the latter had
indeed honored the affair with their patronage.

We secu