Adam Badeau, Grant in peace: from Appomattox to Mount McGregor, a personal memoir

[315]

Chapter 36:

The third term.

Grant's relief at being freed from the cares and entanglements of political life was at first so great that any reference by his friends to the possibility of his reentering office was extremely distasteful to him. Nevertheless when the great railroad strikes of 1877 occurred, in the first year after his retirement, his letters from America abounded with allusions to the situation, and not a few expressed the wish that a ‘strong man’ fitted to cope with the emergency had been at the head of the Government. Of course there was no possibility of his returning to place at that time, but if the crisis had lasted and there had been a general demand for his services, I think he would not then have hesitated to perform what he might have considered a public duty. The idea of some such possibility was certainly presented to his mind; and although he was always the last man to prepare for unlikely contingencies, he still was revolving what might be incumbent on him in case the gravity of the situation increased. He admitted to me on more than one occasion that it might become his duty to return to public life. Of course he had not the slightest thought of taking any such step except in accordance with constitutional provisions, and he certainly had no desire to resume the cares which he had so recently laid aside. He simply did not mean to shrink from any of the responsibilities which his past career and the appreciation of his countrymen might impose.

But the crisis passed away, and he felt a genuine satisfaction [316] at this result; first, because of the relief to the country, and next, because the shadow of further public station had faded from his own future. After this, he was more averse than ever to the thought of again becoming a Presidential aspirant. But his triumphal tour abroad suggested the idea to his friends at home, many of whom were anxious that he should be kept out of the country in order to avoid premature political complications. As early as March, 1878, he wrote to me from Rome: ‘Most every letter I get from the States, like Porter's to you, asks me to remain abroad. They have designs for me which I do not contemplate for myself. It is probable that I will return to the United States either in the fall or early next spring.’ This remark was meant for me as much as for any one else, for I had not hesitated to let him know that I thought the country would desire his return to power; but at that time he had said no word to warrant me in supposing that he entertained the idea.

He did not, it is true, return to America so soon as he had expected, but this was because of an improvement in his financial circumstances. When he first arrived in England, he told me that he had only $25,000 to spend in foreign travel; if that would last two years he could stay abroad two years, but if it became exhausted sooner he would be obliged to return. He was treated so much like a sovereign that his expenses were proportionally increased, and of course the sum that he mentioned did not hold out nearly as long as he had hoped; but his son Ulysses, then living in California, was able to make certain investments for his father which resulted in placing nearly $60,000 at his disposal, and then General Grant was enabled to travel as far and as long as he pleased. Accordingly, he extended his stay.

I wrote to him in the latter part of 1878, repeating something that had been said to me about the possible effect of my history of his campaigns upon his political prospects, and [317] suggesting that the concluding volumes should be delayed until his return to America; but he replied: ‘I do not see what the publication of the book at any particular time can have to do with the formation of public opinion as to political objects. It has been a long time in preparation, and the public has known all about it. If the work should be withheld, the public might say that there was an object in that. I would go on as fast as possible, and when the book is ready publish it. Let the public say what they please.’

In the early part of 1879 he left Europe for the last time. I accompanied him as far as Marseilles, where he took a steamer for the East, and up to that day he had said no word to me, nor, I am confident, to any other human being, defining his intentions or desires in regard to a third term. Mrs. Grant often assured me that, so far as she could judge, he had formed no determination in the matter. I believe that at this time he had neither expectation nor ambition to return to power.

He showed this very plainly by insisting, against the advice of nearly every political friend he had in the world, on returning to America. Every one who knew anything about American politics could foresee an immense enthusiasm on his arrival, which, if it was developed opportunely, might sweep him into the Presidency, while, if time were allowed for it to cool, all the opposition and efforts of rival candidates could, of course, be concentrated, and render even his renomination difficult. This was said or written to him in a hundred forms by the men who wished his renomination and thought themselves sufficiently intimate or important to offer their views. But he paid no attention to the advice, and returned to America in the autumn of 1879, nearly a year before the Presidential election, and more than six months sooner than his supporters desired. The reason he always assigned for this was that Mrs. Grant wanted to see her children. He himself was far from being tired of travel. On [318] the 1st of August, 1879, he wrote to me: ‘At the end of twenty-six months I dread going back, and would not if there were a line of steamers between here and Australia. But I shall go to my quiet little home in Galena, and remain there until the cold drives me away. Then I shall probably go South—possibly to Havana and Mexico—to remain until April.’ On the 30th of the same month he wrote to me: ‘I do not feel bad over the information——gave you. I am not a candidate for any office, nor would I hold one that required any manoeuvring or sacrifice to obtain.’

The enthusiasm that attended his welcome was greater than the most sanguine had anticipated, and gave him the keenest gratification. In December he wrote me a long account of it from Philadelphia. In this letter he said: ‘To-day I start for Cuba and Mexico.’ But he continued: ‘I expect to be back in Galena as soon as the weather gets pleasant in the spring, and to remain there until time to go to Long Branch. I will then have the summer to arrange for a permanent home and occupation. It may be the [Nicaragua] canal, in which case I shall live in New York City. It must be employment or a country home. My means will not admit of a city home without employment to supplement them.’ I replied that I thought the country would find an employment for him that would require him to live in Washington. But to this he made no response.

In April I returned to the United States and found that he had already arrived from Mexico and gone as he intended to his little home in Galena. The country was at this time in the full flood of excitement that precedes the Presidential nominations. Grant's stubbornness in returning had produced exactly the result that his friends had foreseen. Time was given for the opposition to crystallize; his rivals recovered from their first shock of astonishment at his popularity; the dislike entertained in many quarters for a third term was worked up vigorously, and the political world was in the [319] midst of a battle. Whether the instinct of fight was aroused in him, whether he felt after prolonged rest a willingness for new labors, or whether after so wide and varied an experience, abroad as well as at home, he was conscious of a greater fitness than ever for high place—it is hard to say. All these considerations may have influenced him; the advice and persuasion of most of those who had been closest either as political or personal friends may have told; the pressure of his own family, naturally eager to regain the position they had once enjoyed, was incessant; and Grant allowed every step to be taken to present his name to the country and the convention without one sign of disapproval. Delegates were chosen pledged to vote for him; important statesmen known to have always been in his confidence openly advocated his nomination; yet with that singular reticence which he sometimes displayed, he made neither public nor private utterance on the subject, and men like Conkling, Cameron, and Logan declared in intimate conferences that Grant had never said to either that he would be a candidate. He always had a superstitious feeling, which he describes in his memoirs, that he would fail in any effort made by himself to secure his own advancement. He had done nothing whatever to promote his first nomination, and nothing directly for his second; and he determined now to follow the same course in regard to a third.

He finally, however, became extremely anxious to receive the nomination. In May I went out to visit him at Galena; but before I reached that place he had arrived at Chicago, at the home of his son, Colonel Grant. At Chicago, I saw him constantly, either at Colonel Grant's house, or more frequently at General Sheridan's headquarters; for his son was on Sheridan's staff. I accompanied him on a visit to Elihu B. Washburne, and dined with him at the house of Russell Jones, his former Minister to Belgium. Both these gentlemen were avowed supporters of General Grant, and in their [320] presence conversation was unrestrained, and the prospects were discussed as freely as they would have been before any other expectant candidate.

It was now only a few weeks before the convention, and Grant manifested as much anxiety as I ever saw him display on his own account; he calculated the chances, he counted the delegates, considered how every movement would affect the result, and was pleased or indignant at the conversion of enemies or the defection of friends, just as any other human being naturally would have been under the same circumstances; only it was hardly natural in him, who was used to concealing his personal feeling in all things. Of course this freedom was only with his especial intimates, his family, and a very few other tried friends whom he chanced to meet at this time. But that he disclosed his interest at all showed how profoundly it must have stirred him.

I had not met him for more than a year, during which period he had gone through his wonderful experience in the East, had obtained his knowledge of China and Japan, and conceived an Oriental policy for this country which he believed so important that a desire to achieve it was certainly one reason why he was so anxious to return to power. All who met him were impressed with his views in regard to those Asiatic countries, the relations with them which he thought might be developed, the trade we might create, the immense advantage both they and we might receive from an intimate understanding. His opinions were very broad, and he talked with a knowledge of the subject that made him fluent, and an interest which at times almost inspired him to eloquence. Once or twice he addressed a party of twenty or thirty men of importance in business or affairs, and enchained their attention for hours while he laid before them his information and his views. Mexico also was a favorite theme, and a Mexican policy was already germinating in his brain. As a rule I do not consider that General Grant's intellect was remarkable for [321] originality; he absorbed the best points in the views of others and constructed out of them his own finest schemes and successes, making them, however, completely his own; but in these Oriental and Mexican measures he seems to me to have been entirely original. He had become a profound thinker and an international statesman during his travels. He had seen other countries, both the peoples and the rulers; the emperors and tycoons and sultans, and the ministers and parliaments and the nations themselves; his views were widened, and his whole character changed; but at the same time his national feeling and his democratic preferences were intensified. He was never so fit to be President as when his party rejected him.

I am sure, from what he said, that he was conscious of most of his former errors in political administration, and intended to rectify them. He was large and generous in his feeling for the South, and had, indeed, become as popular in the region where he had fought as among the soldiers who had followed him thither. It was believed by his adherents that he would have polled a large vote in the Southern States and broken down the line of a solid South as no man yet had succeeded in doing. Of course these are surmises, but I recite them because they affected him, and because considerations of this sort were prominent motives of his conduct at this time.

After a stay of a few days in Chicago, I returned to the East, and shortly afterward Mr. Russell Young, who had accompanied Grant during the greater part of his European and Asiatic tour, went out to visit him at Galena. Young was opposed to Grant's third nomination, principally, perhaps, because he thought he could not be elected. He had long and repeated conversations with the General, in which he represented the views of those of Grant's friends who were averse to his standing again. Mrs. Grant suspected Young's purpose, and tried to thwart it; and the discussions [322] between Young and the General were usually carried on in her absence. This was only a few days before the convention was to meet at Chicago. General Grant had even yet made no outspoken declaration of his intention, though, of course, having allowed his friends to use his name without objection, he could not in honor withdraw it without their consent. But Young induced him to write a letter, addressed to Senator Cameron, authorizing his friends, if they saw fit, to withdraw his name from the convention. This was a most extraordinary influence for any one man to exert with Grant, and I have known few parallel instances. Young, however, doubtless appeared as the spokesman of others whose opinions backed his own, though his fidelity and friendship gave weight to what he said. But the letter was sent, in opposition to the views of Mrs. Grant and without her knowledge, and was calculated, of course, to dampen the enthusiasm and bewilder the counsels of Grant's most devoted adherents. I can conceive of no step more unlike General Grant's ordinary character or behavior than this half-way reversal of what he had previously countenanced. But it was too late to recede; his friends had committed both him and themselves, and they were not influenced by this phase of irresolution which had passed over him. They made no use of the letter, General Grant kept no copy of it, nor did Young, and those to whom it was submitted have never made it public. Grant never censured them for the fidelity that disregarded his suggestion of withdrawal, and all the remainder of his life he remained more than grateful to the men who supported him so faithfully at Chicago, just as he never forgave any who he thought betrayed him at that time. He never afterward spoke except with bitterness of his lifetime friend Washburne, who, he believed, I know not how rightly, had played him false; and he remembered the violence of some who supported Mr. Blaine with an acrimony that was not confined to them, but was extended to his great rival. Even former [323] followers who did not support him in the concluding political effort of his life never held the same place in his personal regard. His failure embittered his feeling toward all who contributed to it.

This remark has no reference to Young. Grant followed Young's counsel, and in the end perhaps wished that others had done so too. It was at his urgent advice that Mr. Young was afterward appointed by President Arthur, Minister to China.

But though Grant's disappointment was acute it was not manifested with any loss of dignity. The world knows how soon he accepted defeat and fell into line as a follower in that party of which he had so long been the head; how he supported Mr. Garfield, and though an ex-President, attended political meetings and made political speeches in behalf of the man who aspired to the place he had held and had again expected to fill.

On the 23d of June, two weeks after the result of the convention was known, he wrote to me from Galena: ‘I am glad you are getting on so well with your book. Hope to see it out before you return to England. It will not probably have so great a sale at once as it would have had the result at Chicago been what many thought it would be. But it will have a long run, finding a market long after you and I are gone.’

This was all that he said to me on the subject till we met in October, when I accompanied him on his political tour.