[CHAPTER XIV]
1877

GENERAL GRANT VISITS LAKE LUZERN​--​CONVERSATIONS WITH HIM​--​HOW I BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS OF SHERMAN’S SUCCESSES IN THE CAROLINAS TO GENERAL GRANT AT RICHMOND​--​GRANT’S SIMPLICITY IN HIS TRAVELS​--​A STRANGE EXPERIENCE ON THE RIGI​--​LONDON PAPERS AMAZED AT THE POPULATION OF THE UNITED STATES​--​FIRST TELEPHONE.

July 1, 1877.​--​Last week there was some talk among the prominent people here, including the few Americans, of having a public reception for General Grant. Knowing that he was stopping at Luzern, I went to see him for the committee. In a little lake-excursion near to the Rigi, it happened that I was on the same boat with him. The seats on the deck of the steamer were filled with tourists, gazing in wonder at the inspiring scenery we were passing in the bay of Uri. The water is two thousand feet deep, the lake a wonderful blue, and the dark, majestic mountains near by, a contrast to the slopes of snow and the ice fields a little further off.

It was summer, but the day was dark and cool. “Where is the General?” I said to General Badeau, who was traveling with him.

Lake Luzern​--​Tell’s Chapel.​--​Pages [49] and [128].

“Do you see that man sitting down there at the right, alone, with his coat collar turned up?” I went nearer, and recognized the familiar features. But to me, he looked none at all like the General Grant of war times, the one I had seen on critical battlefields. He wore a black cylinder hat, his overcoat collar, turned up, hid half his face, he sat earnest and speechless with arms folded, apparently barely glancing at the mighty scenes the vessel was hurrying past​--​scenes that were exciting exclamations of wonder from half the people on the deck.

General Badeau pronounced my name, but General Grant did not, at first, remember me. When I recalled the time I brought the dispatches from Sherman to City Point, and the long talk we had together in the little back room of his cabin, about Sherman’s army, he brightened up, interested himself, and seemed glad to talk of old war days.

I think not one reference was made to the scenery we were passing. I must think, too, he was getting tired of all the attentions heaped upon him by European cities, for he preferred, when I spoke of it, that the Zurich people should do nothing in the way of receiving him.

“Look at that great, foolish lot of people hurrying to be first at the gangway,” he remarked to me, as the steamer turned landwards at Luzern. “They might as well sit still; nine times out of ten, hurry helps nobody​--​the boat stays at the landing, everybody will get off, and to-morrow it will be all the same who is off first.”