REMINISCENCES OF GENERAL GRANT.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXXI, Issue 2501, 8 January 1869, Page 3

REMINISCENCES OF GENERAL GRANT.

(Correspondent of New York Tribune.)

I never shall forget one night that I spent with Grant. It was in the midst of the war, the battle of Chattanooga had been fought, the siege of Knoxville was raised, and Grant was passing on horseback through Tennessee, by way of Cumberland Gap, over steep and icy roads, in mid-winter—the winter of 18634—to look after affairs in the East.

My quarters were scanty, and we occupied a room together. During the early part of the evening the General was engaged with his A. A. G. over some correspondence with his different field commanders. Grant wrote or dictated the more important letters, some of which were read in my hearing, and I was struck by the ease, conciseness, and clearness of his composition. Every sentence was simple and pithy, there was little repetition, no undecision, nothing to correct. Jew men can equal him in putting orders or reports concerning complicated movements into intelligible English. Business over, the wearied A. A. G. retired to bed, but Grant showed no signs of fatigue, and sat up with me long after the witching hour, smoking and talking over old times, and discussing the progress of the war, the characters of men, and, to some extent, the future movement of the several armies. I had known him casually for many years, but never till now had I enjoyed so good an opportunity to judge of his intellectual calibre. His conversation flowed on placidly, a broad, strong, and full stream, from topic to topic, evincing such a keen but comprehensive judgment of men and measures, general s and generalship, statesmen and statesmanship, as few would give him credit for at that day. His perception of character, as tested in some cases by my own familiar acquaintance, was wonderful; he appeared to read men like an open book, at a glance, or by some one action, or some slight manifestation beyond the ordinary ken. Hence his " lucky " choice of generals. The next thing that impressed me and that which is least known of him, was the peculiar quality of his mental operations in complicated affairs, viz., a power to generalize, and to select, and fasten his mind upon the prominent points to the exclusion of enveloping details. His mind having once seized the right thread of any tissue of facts, he held to it with an inflexible grasp that was not to be shaken off by any power under the sun, there that fact stood, as plain to him as a mountain peak, lifting its head above the whole range; it was as simple to him, and in the course of his couversation it seemed almost as simple to you as the alphabet—6o simple, indeed, that you were not half inclined to give the man credit for his sagacity. Most men would have strained themselves in the process of arriving at the culminating points of their reasoning, whereas, to Grant's mind, the culminations themselves were so apparent that there was no labour. These mighty plans that he talks over in such a plain, unassuming, unconscious way, seem like the most ordinary combinations of an ordinary mind. You do not realise their greatness until afterwards, and then you begin to do justice to the man that does himself bo little justice in his manner of speech. His thoughts are not the least clogged with the process itself through which a problem is solved. His insight cuts like a sword through each Gordian knot, and there lies the result, divested of all mystery—the very pith and marrow of the matter in hand.

This power of dealing only with the preponderating facts, and of losing sight of all the cumbersome array which commonly weighs down weaker souls is the law of Grant's mind. Call it abstraction, generalisation, concentration, or what you will, it is the highest law of intellect, such as Cam and Napoleon displayed Jin government, Newton and Laplace in science, and Goethe in art. Great truths are always clear to great minds. But Grant is a master-workman rather than a thinker. He disregards abstract rules and formularies, and advances straight from a surrey of the field to the right conclusions as to the work to be done. He scarcely seems to know whether he has violated principles laid down in the books, but unconsciously carries out new principles, and his deeds speak for him. In every emergency the question with Grant is, what is the best thing to be done—and that, with him, is the only thing ; that he always seems to discover at the right time and in the right place. It is a gift; not the gift of inspiration, but the intuition of prodigious common sense, genius bounded by utility. I had good opportunities afterwards in the course of the war, to observe the strong leader as he knit together the links which throttled the rebellion. Always intent on the essential objects which he bad for the most part long held in view, and which tlu publi • itself now began to discern, never embarraeaed by troublesome details, he cruslied the Confederacy by taxing the supreme resources of the country, and directing the blows of his Generals, stroke after stroke, to the two or three main issues on which alone success depended. The rebellion collapsed so suddenly, that the world was astonished, The idea of " luck " was dispelled, and people began to estimate the greatness of the central figure which now loomed up above the heads of all our chieftains.

it is because few persons have opportunities to see Grant in his element, at work, overmastering events, and because lie makes euch a commonplaco show in his ordinary intercourse with people, that the elementary strength of his character is not visible to the world. Especially is he deficient in conversation with strangers, on subjects which one might naturally expect would draw him out. But it is a rare thing for him to be drawn out. He does not talk for effect. He knows nothing but utility. Most men converse well in the line of their own art, they dote on the weapons of their skill; but to Grant, his own art is no art,it is all common sense; and such is his dislike of every kind of display, that he would sooner paw, with toe Welsh philow-

pher, for an idiot in a crowd, than for the best talker in America Wellington was not a genius, but the" quintessence of common sense. Ho was cold, and inspired no enthusiasm in his troops; without personal ostentation, but with such perfect sincerity of character as forbade display or egotism j cool, cautious, daring, and indefatigable; of a mind so equally balanced that prosperity could not elato nor adversity depress him ; undazzlcd by victory, undismayed by defeat, rugged in honesty, staunch in patriotism, concise in utterance, lie was aa intensely English as Grant is intensely American; lie was the rock against which French enthusiasm dashed itself into froth, as Grant was the tower against whicli Southern chivalry tilted itself into splinters. Yet lie wai more a man of privilege than Grant; he worshipped his order and was a Tory, while Grant worships his country and believes in the common right of men. He could, like Grant, endure everything, but could not, like Grant dara everything. In this respect Wellington resembled Sherman; he feared no danger that he could see, while Grant fears no danger whether lie can see it or not. Like Grant, the Iron Duke was strong in his clear heart. He could grasp the greatest events; howbeit he remembered the smallest details, and thus embarrassed himself in cases where Grant would have been free. Grant seized the mightiest events, and leaves the details to men of detail, judging and knowing his man by an intuitive sagacity equalled only by Napoleon. No one but Wellington has been equal to Grant in simplicity, uprightness, and mnssiveness of character; or so free from selfishness, jealousy, vanity, passion, meanness, and irresolution.