His Positive Refusal to be a Presidential Candidate—Remembering a California Drummer—Dealing with a Newspaper at Memphis—Suppressing Praise of Himself at Savannah—Confiscating Medicine—The Electoral Commission—His Love of Music—Excuses for Swearing—A Tribute to his Mother—An Incident at Yale—Expressions of Kind Feeling toward the South and toward his Foes.

The lives of few men have contained more picturesque incidents than did Sherman's. His nervous, impulsive nature and frank, open manner made him the hero of many episodes which are the delight of story-tellers. His conversation, also, bristled with epigrammatic sayings well worth repeating and preserving. His death called forth a perfect flood of reminiscences. Every one who had ever known him had something to relate regarding him; some humorous or dramatic incident, some kind deed, some quaint or wise remark. Many of these are doubtless apocryphal; and of those that are true even the compass of a biography will give space for but few. But no biography of Sherman would be complete without some of them, in which the nature of the man so clearly stands revealed.

Reference has already been made to Sherman's dislike of politics. He was often spoken of as a candidate for the Presidency, but never with his own approval or consent. As early as February, 1876, he wrote to a friend as follows: "I never have been, and am not now, and never shall be, a candidate for the high office of President before any convention of the people. I shall always prefer to see that office filled by one of the millions who in the Civil War stood by the Union firm and unequivocally; and of these I notice many names willing and capable. Prominent among them is that of General Hayes, now Governor of Ohio, whom we know as a fine officer and a gentleman in every sense. I do not, however, wish to be understood as presuming to advise anybody in the choice of the man. My wife and family are strong Catholics, but I am not; that, however, is nobody's business. I believe in the common schools, and don't stop over the little matters which seem to be exaggerated by the press. In some quarters, however, these schools are extravagant and indulge in costly buildings and expensive teachers, so as to be too heavy a burden to the taxpayers. This tendency ought to be checked, which may easily be done without making it a political question. Self-interest will regulate this and make them free schools to all and capable of imparting the rudiments of a good English education."

Being asked, after the publication of this letter,—which by the way, he did not expect,—whether he really meant it, he said he did.

"Suppose you were nominated?"

"I would decline."

"Suppose the nomination were unanimous and enthusiastic?"

"I would decline anyway. I cannot think of any circumstances that would induce me to accept the nomination. There are so many men in the country better fitted for the place than I am. I have no civil experience, as every President should have. The country wants a change in this respect. Military men know no way of settling troubles except to fight, and our country is now so peaceful that a different policy is needed. We want a civic President, and not a military one."

And years after that he again declared that he was not a candidate for the Presidency; that if nominated he would decline, and if elected he would refuse to serve.

An incident which occurred in Philadelphia some three years before his death illustrates Sherman's remarkable powers of memory.

He was visiting his daughter, and while sitting at the open window smoking one midsummer night he saw the policeman pass, and as the patrolman halted a moment the General was noticed to give him a keen glance and utter an exclamation. The next evening he told some one to say to the policeman on the beat, when he passed, that the General wanted to speak to him. When the officer entered he straightened up and gave General Sherman the regular military salute.

"Ah, ha," said the General. "I thought so. Now, where was it I saw you before? Do you know me?"

"Oh, yes," said the bearded patrolman. "I knew you when you were a lieutenant. I was your drummer in California."

"Ha, ha, I thought so; and wait a bit. So you were that little drummer boy, and your name—your name's Hutchinson."

Another authentic story reveals the kindly humor of the man, even amid the stern scenes of war. It is told by Mr. H.L. Priddy, who, with a Mr. Brower, conducted The Argus newspaper at Memphis when Sherman was commander there. "The Argus" says Mr. Priddy, "was the only paper published at Memphis then. Brower and I had to simulate a degree of loyalty, but whenever we got a chance we cheered the Stars and Bars. General Sherman gave us considerable latitude, but finally we went too far, and he called us down. He did it in a gentlemanly way, however, that didn't wound our feelings. He galloped up to the office one day about noon, threw the bridle rein of his big black stallion to an orderly and strode into the editorial room. A crowd of citizens gathered on the other side of the street mourned for the fate of the newspaper and the editors. I think they had an idea that Sherman was going to amputate our heads and 'pi' all the forms. But he didn't. He sat down and rested his feet on the table and said:

"'Boys' (we were both youngsters), "I have been ordered to suppress your paper, but I don't like to do that, and I just dropped in to warn you not to be so free with your pencils. If you don't ease up you will get into trouble."

"We promised to reform, and as the General seemed so pleasant and friendly, I asked him if he couldn't do something to increase the circulation of currency. There was no small change, and we had to use the soda water checks of a confectioner named Lane. We dropped soda water checks in the contribution box at the church, paid for straight whiskey with them and received them for money. If Lane had closed his shop the checks would have been worthless.

"General Sherman comprehended the situation, and quick as a flash said: 'You need a medium of exchange that has an intrinsic value. Cotton is king here. Make cotton your currency. It is worth $1 a pound. Make packages containing eight ounces represent 50 cents, four ounces 25 cents, and so on. Cotton is the wealth of the South right now. Turn it to money.' "'But the money drawers wouldn't hold such bulky currency,' said I.

"'Make 'em larger,' said the General, and with that he strode off.

"As he mounted his horse and galloped away he shook his whip at Brower and me and shouted: 'You boys had better be careful what you write, or I'll be down on you.'"

At Savannah, just after he had captured it, Sherman had another controversy with a newspaper man, one "Tom" Miles, from Boston. The latter, on getting into Savannah with the army, went prospecting round the city, and presently, according to the teller of the story, in The Boston Post, found himself in a vacated printing office. It presented a golden opportunity. There were types and presses and all the paraphernalia essential to business, with a form on the press, which the printer had left in his flight, and Miles, taking out the editorial and other offensive matter, filled its columns with healthy Union sentiment, with the aid of one or two of the craft whom he had discovered in the army. His leader was a rich specimen of crowing over the victory, in which he extolled General Sherman as the greatest hero since Alexander, and his army the finest and best disciplined that the world ever saw. With this grand flourish of trumpets the first number was issued, and Miles lay back in his editorial chair, contemplating his work with the belief that he had achieved the next triumph to Sherman's, and wondered what the conqueror would say when he saw the praises he had heaped upon him. The next morning as the General and his staff were about taking breakfast, a paper was handed to him, and he commenced to read the leader which was so lavish in his praise.

"Look here!" said he, red and furious. "What the d—— l does this mean? Who knows anything about this paper?"

His orderly, who had known something about its preparation, explained to him that it was the work of the literary gentleman who had followed the expedition.

"Well," said the General, "go down to the office and tell him to discontinue his paper or I'll put him under guard. I won't have such cursed stuff printed about me when I can prevent it. Abuse is bad enough, but this is a deuced sight worse."

Down went the orderly, and the confusion of poor Miles was overwhelming when he got the squelcher from the General commanding.

"Why, it was all praise," said he.

"No matter for that. If it had been the other way it would have been treated just the same."

So Miles moved a compromise—we hardly know what—and urged the official to express his regrets and beg the removal of the injunction, which was promised. The appeal was successful, and soon the officer came back to inform him that permission was granted him to run his paper, on condition that he should never mention the General's name again. This was agreed to, and the paper appeared. After a day or two an aide came down one morning with an order from General Sherman, for publication. Miles glanced it over and handed it back.

"It can't go in, sir," he said.

"Why not?" asked the astonished messenger, who was a stranger.

"Because it has Sherman's name to it," was the reply.

"That's the reason why it must go in," urged the aide.

"And that's the reason why it shan't. He stopped my paper for praising him, and I promised him that his name should never appear in my columns again, and hang me if it shall."

Miles stood resolute, and the officer returned for orders, expecting the ordering out of a file of men and an arrest, but was astonished to see the General burst into the heartiest laugh and hear him confess that the printer had the best of it. The messenger was sent back with a conciliatory note, and there was no more trouble.

Sherman himself once related an interesting story about a prominent citizen of Savannah who came to his headquarters after he had captured that city. The gentleman was in great trepidation and informed the General that he had some valuable pictures in his house. The General said they were entirely safe. He said he also had a collection of family plate of great intrinsic value, and, on account of its associations, very precious to him and his family. The General told him he would put a guard about his house if necessary. Then, in a burst of frank confidence, produced by this generous response to his fears, he revealed to General Sherman that he had buried in his back yard a large quantity of priceless Madeira, of the oldest and rarest vintages, and estimated to be worth over $40,000 before the war. The General responded at once: "That is medicine, and confiscated to the hospital." What the hospital did not need he distributed among the troops.

General Sherman was fully informed of the movements of Jefferson Davis, and in a position to put his hand upon and arrest him at almost any time after Davis left Richmond. He consulted Mr. Lincoln as to what he would better do, saying to the President that he did not know but what he, the President, would be relieved by not having the President of the Southern Confederacy on his hands, and asking for instructions. President Lincoln's instructions were given in this form: "Sherman, many years ago, up in Illinois, I knew a temperance lecturer who had been an habitual drunkard. He met, on an anniversary occasion, a number of his old boon companions. They were urging him to celebrate it with them in the usual way, and he finally said: 'Boys, I must stick to my principles; but if you could get some whiskey into my water unbeknownst to me I might join you!'"

The General after that made no effort to capture Jefferson Davis, and regretted that he did not reach the schooner in which he was intending an escape to Cuba.

Abram S. Hewitt, in addressing the Chamber of Commerce, New York, told of an experience of his with General Sherman, then in command of the army, at the time of the Electoral Commission's existence. There was a good deal of apprehension lest Congress might break up without settling the contest for the Presidency. "If Congress failed to do its duty, what will you do under the circumstances?" Mr. Hewitt asked the General.

"I have sworn to obey the Constitution of the United States," was the answer, "and I will do my duty. The term of President Grant expires at noon on March 4. The people of the United States have elected a President and competent authority will decide who is elected."

"But if Senate and House fail to agree?"

"Then, if I must, I shall obey the man selected by the Senate."

"That reply," said Mr. Hewitt. "I felt meant much for the peace of the country, although the General's choice was not my own. To him we owe not only much for the termination of the civil war, but for the preservation of peace."

On one occasion, when visiting his sister, Mrs. Ewing, Gen. Sherman met four or five Presbyterian clergymen, and his patience was rather severely tried by their religious discussions, and what seemed to him their intolerant and one-sided views. One of them challenged him to offer any excuse for swearing, meeting him with the clinching statement that there could be no redemption for blasphemers.

"Were you," inquired the young soldier, "ever at sea in a heavy gale, with spars creaking and sails flapping, and the crew cowardly and incompetent?"

"No."

"Did you ever," he continued gravely, "try to drive a five-team ox-cart across the prairie?"

"No."

"Then," said Capt. Sherman, "you know nothing of temptations to blasphemy—you know nothing about extenuating circumstances for blasphemers—you are not competent to judge!"

Gen. Sherman was proud of tracing his powers of endurance to his mother, to whom he also frequently ascribed the heritage of other soldierly characteristics.

"She married very young," said the General—"her husband, who was not very much older, being a lawyer with hope and ambition for his patrimony and all the world before him where to choose. He chose Ohio, leaving his young wife in Jersey City while he made a home for her in what was then a far country.

"Soon as he had made a home for her she went to him. She rode on horseback, with her young baby in her arms, from Jersey City to Ohio, the journey occupying twenty-three days! What would a New York bride say to such a journey as that? I'm afraid she'd want to wait until her husband had made money enough to have a railroad built for her." Israel Smith, of New Bedford, was Band-master of the Massachusetts 33d Regiment on the march from Atlanta to Savannah. In speaking of General Sherman Mr. Smith said: "He was very fond of music, and the 33d gave many a concert at his headquarters. One time when the regiment had gone into camp, General Sherman sent word to me to come to his headquarters and play for him. I sent word back that my men were mostly sick, not enough being left to give a decent concert. Whereupon Sherman sends back word. 'Bring over your band and play soft music to soothe my nerves.'" When the Army was drawn up around Savannah, the first concert in two weeks was given. When Smith was about to go away Sherman called him and said: "I want you to have your band in readiness to play next Thursday, in the square in Savannah." Early on Thursday morning Mr. Smith received his orders to march to the square, and there, while the city was being evacuated, he played the National airs.

Sherman went to Yale College in 1876, to see his son graduated. He was made the guest of honor of the occasion, given a seat next to President Noah Porter at all the exercises, and the degree of LL.D. was conferred on him. The displays of academic eloquence were long. During the orations Sherman slipped out of the chapel, and his absence was not noticed for some time. When it was noticed a deputation of the faculty rushed off to discover the whereabouts of their distinguished guest. Their quest was of short duration. On a bench in front of the chapel General Sherman was seated, puffing his cigar and engaged in animated conversation with an old negro who had just been discharged from the workhouse and who was smoking one of the General's havanas. He felt the need of a smoke, saw no reason why he should not take a cigar without disturbing any one, and had fallen into conversation with the only other occupant of the park bench. It afterward was made evident that General Sherman in his short conversation had learned more about the manner in which the New Haven workhouse was conducted than any member of the Yale faculty knew.

Sherman's interest in the Pacific Railroad was referred to by General Wager Swayne, who said:—

"As long ago as 1849 General Sherman wrote a letter to his brother, John Sherman, which the latter published in The National Intelligencer, advocating the construction of a railroad across the continent, and he was an untiring friend of the road from that time until its completion, in the summer of 1869.

"He told me that if at the time of writing that letter to his brother John he could have secured the immediate construction of a railroad across the continent by signing a contract to lay down his own life, he should have done it, he thought.

"In his "Memoirs" he gives an account of carrying from Sonoma, Cal., to Sacramento, to the commanding officer of the United States forces there, an order to make a survey of the Feather River, so as to ascertain the feasibility of constructing a railroad through the valley of that stream. That was the first survey ever made with a view to the construction of a transcontinental road, and while the General does not say so in his "Memoirs," I have from his own lips that the impulse and the conception were his own, and he procured the signature to the order of the commanding general by personal solicitation.

"When, at the close of the war, General Granville M. Dodge was called from the Army, being then still in service, to take charge of the construction of the Union Pacific road, General Sherman not only gave him leave cordially, but he also spontaneously promised him all possible assistance, and General Dodge has testified, in an elaborate paper, that he does not see how he could have built the road except with the countenance and support which he received from General Sherman, as the Indians were then a power on the plains.

"In the summer of 1869, twenty years after his first letter on the subject, General Sherman stood in the War Department, and heard the strokes from an electric bell, which announced the successive blows of the hammer on the last spike in the construction of the road, and he told me that in view of his long interest in the enterprise, he felt, as he himself put it, as if the Lord might come for him then."

General Cyrus Bussey, assistant Secretary of the Interior, was an old comrade and close friend of Sherman, and he said of him:

"I first met General Sherman at Benton Barracks, Mo., in November, 1861. I had reported there with a full regiment of cavalry. General Sherman had just assumed command, after having been relieved in Kentucky under a cloud, being charged with insanity. I spent many evenings with the General at his headquarters, and received from him many valuable lessons which greatly aided me as an officer of the Army during all my subsequent services. During the siege of Vicksburg I was chief of cavalry, and served immediately under General Sherman's command. I saw much of him during the siege, and led the advance of his army in the campaign to Jackson, against Joe Johnston's army, immediately after the fall of Vicksburg. After the enemy was routed and driven out of the country my command occupied the rear, and General Sherman accompanied me both on the advance and on the return to our camps in the rear of Vicksburg. So I had an excellent opportunity of becoming intimately acquainted with him, and there I formed a great admiration for him as a man and a general.

"One circumstance I wish to mention. While waiting at Jackson after the retreat of Johnston, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Mississippi tendered to General Sherman and his staff a banquet, at which General Frank P. Blair proposed a toast to General Grant. General Sherman rose and said: 'I want to respond to that toast. I see that many newspapers of the country have credited me with originating the plan adopted by General Grant for the capture of Vicksburg. I want to say that I am not entitled to this credit. General Grant alone originated that plan and carried it to successful completion without the co-operation of any of his subordinate officers, and in the face of my protest as well as that of many of the officers.'"

The question of the burning of Atlanta was often raised in the years after the war, and to the end of his life Sherman was denounced by many Southerners for what they were pleased to term his inhumanity and malice. In the spring of 1880, Captain Burke, commander of the "Gate City Guard," at Atlanta, wrote to him, calling his attention to a proposed memorial hall in that city, and Sherman made this reply:

"My Dear Sir.—Your letter of March 6 with inclosure, is received, and I assure you of my interest in the subject matter and willingness to contribute to the execution of your plan to erect in the city of Atlanta a memorial hall to commemorate the revival of sectional unity and sentiment—but were I to do so for the reasons set forth in the inclosed circular, I would be construed as indorsing the expressions which are erroneous, viz: 'During the late unfortunate war the city of Atlanta was destroyed by the forces of General Sherman,' and 'a wilderness of blackened walls recorded the fratricidal strife that deluged our country in misfortune,'

"Atlanta was not destroyed by the army of the United States commanded by General Sherman. No private dwelling was destroyed by the United States army, but some were by that commanded by General Hood along his line of defense. The Court House still stands; all the buildings on that side of the railroad and all those along Peachtree street, the best street in the city, still remain. Nothing was destroyed by my orders but the depots, workshops, foundries, etc., close by the depots, and two blocks of mercantile stores also close to the depot took fire from the burning storehouse or foundry, and our troops were prevented from checking the spread of the fire by reason of concealed shells loaded and exploding in that old building. The railroad car and machine shops on the edge of the town toward Decatur street, were burned before we entered Atlanta, by General Hood's orders."

To the Hon. Henry W. Grady, a few days later, Sherman said personally:

"The city of Atlanta was never burned as a city. I notice that the headquarters I occupied, all the houses about it, and the headquarters of the other officers were all standing when I revisited the place a year or two since. The residence streets were not burned at all."

"It was your intention, then, to burn only the heart of the city?"

"My intention was clearly expressed in a written order to General Poe. It was simply to burn the buildings in which public stores had been placed or would likely be placed. This included only four buildings, as I recollect: not over five or six. One of these was a warehouse above the depot, in which or under which were a number of shells. From this building a block of business houses took fire and the destruction went beyond the limits intended. The old Trout House was burned by some of the men, who had some reason for burning it. I ordered the round house burned. I wanted to destroy the railroad so that it could not be used. I then wanted to destroy the public buildings, so that Atlanta could not be used as a depot of supplies. I ordered, as I say, four or five houses set on fire, but as far as burning the city in the sense of wanton destruction, I never thought of such a thing. I shirked no responsibility that war imposed, but I never went beyond my duty."

His kindly feeling toward the city and people with whom he once dealt so sternly was well shown in a letter which he wrote in 1879 to Captain E.P. Howell, of the Atlanta Constitution.

"My opportunities for studying the physical features of Georgia," he said, "have been large. In 1843–4 I went from Augusta to Marietta in a stage (when Atlanta had no existence); thence to Bellefonte, Alabama, on horseback, returning afterwards, all the way on horseback, to Augusta by a different road; again, in 1864, I conducted, as all the world knows, a vast army from Chattanooga to Atlanta and Savannah, and just now have passed over the same district in railway cars. Considering the history of this period of time (35 years), the development of the country has been great, but not comparable with California, Iowa, Wisconsin, or Kansas, in all which States I have had similar chances for observation. The reason why Georgia has not kept pace with the States I have named is beyond question that emigration would not go where slavery existed. Now that this cause is removed there is no longer any reason why Georgia, especially the northern part, should not rapidly regain her prominence among the great States of our Union. I know that no section is more favored in climate, health, soil, minerals, water, and everything which man needs for his material wants, and to contribute to his physical and intellectual development. Your railroads now finished give your people cheap supplies, and the means of sending in every section their surplus products of the soil or of manufactures. You have immense beds of iron and coal, besides inexhaustible quantities of timber, oak, hickory, beech, poplar, pine, etc., so necessary in modern factories, and which are becoming scarce in other sections of our busy country.

"I have crossed this continent many times, by almost every possible route, and I feel certain that at this time no single region holds out as strong inducements for industrious emigrants as that from Lynchburg, Virginia, to Huntsville, Alabama, right and left, embracing the mountain ranges and intervening valleys, especially East Tennessee, North Georgia and Alabama. I hope I will not give offence in saying that the present population has not done full justice to this naturally beautiful and most favored region of our country, and that two or three millions of people could be diverted from the great West to this region with profit and advantage to all concerned. This whole region, though called 'southern,' is in fact 'northern'—viz.: it is a wheat-growing country; has a climate in no sense tropical or southern, but was designed by nature for small farms and not for large plantations. In the region I have named North Georgia forms a most important part, and your city, Atlanta, is its natural centre or capital. It is admirably situated, a thousand feet above the sea, healthy, with abundance of the purest water and with granite, limestone, sandstone and clay convenient to build a second London. In 1864 my army, composed of near a hundred thousand men, all accustomed to a northern climate, were grouped about Atlanta from June to November without tents, and were as vigorous, healthy and strong as though they were in Ohio or New York. Indeed, the whole country from the Tennessee to the Ocmulgee is famous for health, pure water, abundant timber and with a large proportion of good soil, especially in the valleys, and all you need is more people of the right sort.

"I am satisfied, from my recent visit, that Northern professional men, manufacturers, mechanics and farmers may come to Atlanta, Rome and Chattanooga with a certainty of fair dealing and fair encouragement. Though I was personally regarded the bete-noir of the late war in your region, the author of all your woes, yet I admit that I have just passed over the very ground desolated by the Civil War, and have received everywhere nothing but kind and courteous treatment from the highest to the lowest, and I heard of no violence to others for opinions' sake. Some Union men spoke to me of social ostracism, but I saw nothing of it, and even if it do exist it must disappear with the present generation. Our whole framework of government and history is founded on the personal and political equality of citizens, and philosophy teaches that social distinctions can only rest on personal merit and corresponding intelligence, and if any part of a community clings to distinctions founded on past conditions, it will grow less and less with time and finally disappear. Any attempt to build up an aristocracy or a privileged class at the South, on the fact that their fathers or grandfathers once owned slaves, will result in a ridiculous failure and subject the authors to the laughter of mankind. I refer to this subject incidentally because others have argued the case with me, but whether attempted elsewhere in the South, I am certain it will not be attempted in Georgia.

"Therefore, I shall believe and maintain that north Georgia is now in a condition to invite emigration from the Northern States of our Union and from Europe, and all parties concerned should advertise widely the great inducements your region holds out to the industrious and frugal of all lands; agents should be appointed in New York to advise, and others at Knoxville, Chattanooga, Rome, Atlanta, etc., to receive emigrants and to point out to them on arrival where cheap lands may be had with reasonable credit, where companies may open coal and iron mines, where mills may be erected to grind wheat and corn, spin cotton, and to manufacture the thousand and one things you now buy from abroad; and more especially to make known that you are prepared to welcome and patronize men who will settle in your region and form a part of your community.

"Your growth and development since the war have been good, very good—better than I was prepared to see; but compare it with San Francisco, Denver, Portland, Oregon, Leavenworth, Chicago, St. Louis, or hundreds of places I could mention, less favored in climate and location than Atlanta. These cities have been notoriously open to the whole world, and all men felt perfectly at liberty to go there with their families, with their acquired wealth and with their personal energy. You must guarantee the same, not superficially or selfishly, but with that sincerity and frankness which carries conviction.

"Personally, I would not like to check the flow of emigration westward, because of the vast natural importance of that region, but I do believe that every patriot should do what he can to benefit every part of our whole country, and I am sure that good will result from turning a part of this great tide of human life and energy southward along the valleys of the Allegheny Mountains, especially of East Tennessee, northern Georgia and Alabama, and if I can aid you in this good work I assure you that I will do so with infinite pleasure.

"Excuse me if I ask you as an editor to let up somewhat on the favorite hobby of 'carpet-baggers.' I know that you personally apply the term only to political adventurers, but others, your readers, construe it otherwise. I have resided in San Francisco, Leavenworth and St. Louis, and of the men who have built up these great cities, I assert that not one in fifty was a native of the place. All, or substantially all, were 'carpet-baggers,' i.e., emigrants from all parts of the world, many of them from the South. Our Supreme Court, Congress and our most prominent and intellectual men, now hail from localities of their own adoption, not of their birth. Let the emigrant to Georgia feel and realize that his business and social position result from his own industry, his merits and his virtues, and not from the accidental place of his birth, and soon the great advantages of climate, soil, minerals, timber, etc., etc., will fill up your country and make Atlanta one of the most prosperous, beautiful and attractive cities, not alone of the South, but of the whole continent, an end which I desire quite as much as you do."

In the Spring of 1876 he talked at some length with a newspaper writer, about the South and the leaders of the late rebellion, and for the latter he expressed only esteem and friendship. "About two weeks ago," he said, "I received a letter from a mutual friend in New York, asking if I would recommend General Braxton Bragg for appointment in the Khedive's army. I promptly replied that it would afford me pleasure to promote the interests of Bragg in that direction. I feel very kindly to all the Southern Generals. In fact, I think people everywhere throughout the North and West cherish no bad feeling. Jeff Davis is the only exception made. I do not know why it is that the Northern people hate him so, but they do, and will never get over their feeling in that respect. Davis did no worse than anybody else, but I suppose the people are bound to have somebody to hate. For instance, the Southern people hate General Butler about as bad or worse than the Northerners hate Davis. I suppose the two sections, while determined to cultivate friendly feelings among the people at large, require something on which to expend the hate that will unavoidably show itself at intervals. So far as the Northern and Southern people are concerned, they are rapidly assimilating, and in a few years they will be one people in fact as well as in name. Put the Southern and Northern soldiers together and you have the strongest element, in a military sense, that could be gotten together for any national purpose. As fighters, they would be invincible. The Southerners are impetuous and will fight quicker and fiercer, but they give out sooner; the Northerners are slower, but they stay longer; they have more endurance, and fight steadier and more stubbornly. In fighting qualities, the South represents France, and the North England. Put the two together and the devil couldn't whip them."

"General, why don't you recommend Jeff Davis for an appointment in Egypt?" "Oh, I wouldn't do that; anybody but Jeff; I would not indorse Jeff."

"Perhaps it would be a public benefaction to do so?"

"Well, I never viewed it in that light. On second thought, I would gladly indorse Jeff, if he would leave the country."