Every face there betrayed strong excitement and emotion except one
—General Grant's. He read the telegram, but not a shade or
suggestion of a change exhibited itself in his iron countenance.
The volume of his emotion was greater than all the other emotions
there present combined, but he was able to suppress all expression
of it and make no sign.

Grant's calmness, endurance, and consideration during these final days astonished even those most familiar with his noble character. One night Gerhardt came into the library at Hartford with the announcement that he wished to show his patron a small bust he had been making in clay of General Grant. Clemens did not show much interest in the prospect, but when the work was uncovered he became enthusiastic. He declared it was the first likeness he had ever seen of General Grant that approached reality. He agreed that the Grant family ought to see it, and that he would take Gerhardt with him next day in order that he might be within reach in case they had any suggestions. They went to New York next morning, and called at the Grant home during the afternoon.

From the note-book:

Friday, March 20, 1885. Gerhardt and I arrived at General Grant's
about 2.30 P.m. and I asked if the family would look at a small
clay bust of the General which Gerhardt had made from a photograph.
Colonel Fred and Jesse were absent to receive their sister, Mrs.
Sartoris, who would arrive from Europe about 4.30; but the three
Mrs. Grants examined the work and expressed strong approval of it,
and also great gratification that Mr. Gerhardt had undertaken it.
Mrs. Jesse Grant had lately dreamed that she was inquiring where the
maker of my bust could be found (she had seen a picture of it in
Huck Finn, which was published four weeks ago), for she wanted the
same artist to make one of General Grant. The ladies examined the
bust critically and pointed out defects, while Gerhardt made the
necessary corrections. Presently Mrs. General Grant suggested that
Gerhardt step in and look at the General. I had been in there
talking with the General, but had never thought of asking him to let
a stranger come in. So Gerhardt went in with the ladies and me, and
the inspection and cross-fire began: “There, I was sure his nose was
so and so,” and, “I was sure his forehead was so and so,” and,
“Don't you think his head is so and so?” And so everybody walked
around and about the old hero, who lay half reclining in his easy
chair, but well muffled up, and submitting to all this as serenely
as if he were used to being served so. One marked feature of
General Grant's character is his exceeding gentleness, goodness,
sweetness. Every time I have been in his presence—lately and
formerly—my mind was drawn to that feature. I wonder it has not
been more spoken of.
Presently he said, let Gerhardt bring in his clay and work there, if
Gerhardt would not mind his reclining attitude. Of course we were
glad. A table for the bust was moved up in front of him; the ladies
left the room; I got a book; Gerhardt went to work; and for an hour
there was perfect stillness, and for the first time during the day
the General got a good, sound, peaceful nap. General Badeau came
in, and probably interrupted that nap. He spoke out as strongly as
the others concerning the great excellence of the likeness. He had
some sheets of MS. in his hand, and said, “I've been reading what
you wrote this morning, General, and it is of the utmost value; it
solves a riddle that has puzzled men's brains all these years and
makes the thing clear and rational.” I asked what the puzzle was,
and he said, “It was why Grant did not immediately lay siege to
Vicksburg after capturing Port Hudson” (at least that is my
recollection, now toward midnight, of General Badeau's answer).

The little bust of Grant which Gerhardt worked on that day was widely reproduced in terra-cotta, and is still regarded by many as the most nearly correct likeness of Grant. The original is in possession of the family.

General Grant worked industriously on his book. He had a superb memory and worked rapidly. Webster & Co. offered to supply him with a stenographer, and this proved a great relief. Sometimes he dictated ten thousand words at a sitting. It was reported at the time, and it has been stated since, that Grant did not write the Memoirs himself, but only made notes, which were expanded by others. But this is not true. General Grant wrote or dictated every word of the story himself, then had the manuscript read aloud to him and made his own revisions. He wrote against time, for he knew that his disease was fatal. Fortunately the lease of life granted him was longer than he had hoped for, though the last chapters were written when he could no longer speak, and when weakness and suffering made the labor a heavy one indeed; but he never flinched or faltered, never at any time suggested that the work be finished by another hand.

Early in April General Grant's condition became very alarming, and on the night of the 3d it was believed he could not live until morning. But he was not yet ready to surrender. He rallied and renewed his task; feebly at first, but more perseveringly as each day seemed to bring a little added strength, or perhaps it was only resolution. Now and then he appeared depressed as to the quality of his product. Once Colonel Fred Grant suggested to Clemens that if he could encourage the General a little it might be worth while. Clemens had felt always such a reverence and awe for the great soldier that he had never dreamed of complimenting his literature.

“I was as much surprised as Columbus's cook could have been to learn that Columbus wanted his opinion as to how Columbus was doing his navigating.”

He did not hesitate to give it, however, and with a clear conscience. Grant wrote as he had fought; with a simple, straightforward dignity, with a style that is not a style at all but the very absence of it, and therefore the best of all literary methods. It happened that Clemens had been comparing some of Grant's chapters with Caesar's Commentaries, and was able to say, in all sincerity, that the same high merits distinguished both books: clarity of statement, directness, simplicity, manifest truthfulness, fairness and justice toward friend and foe alike, soldierly candor and frankness, and soldierly avoidance of flowery speech.

“I placed the two books side by side upon the same level,” he said, “and I still think that they belong there. I learned afterward that General Grant was pleased with this verdict. It shows that he was just a man, just a human being, just an author.”