The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-10-20
GEN. U. S. GRANT.
The Literary Work in Which He Is Engaged
How He Got Into West Point.
W. A. Crofut's New York Letter.

W.. A.. Crofut's New York Letter.
Since General Grant met with his losses last
year, he has turned to his pen for solace. as
many a man has done when trouble overlook
him. 81 had no idea that so much pleasure
could be got out of the ink-stand," he said the
other day to a friend. 81 have always before
found writing to be irksome; 1 never wrote any
thing except what was absolutely necessary.
But since | picked up the pen last spring, and
began to set down the things that 1 remembered
that may possibly be of interest to somebody,
1 have found it more entertaining than almost
anything else I have ever done"
1 called on General Grant Saturday to inquire
about his autobiography, of which 1 have heard
a good deal from friends with whom he has
talked. On my card was an inquiry whether he
had any objection to my repeating what he had
spoken of the conversation. His secretary came
down and said: '"The General wishes to be ex-
cused. This is one of the hours of each day
which he gives to writing, and in which he does
not allow himself to be disturbed Call at some
other hour"
l was unable to do so, The next day I saw
the General out walking alone iii Central Park,
not only without even a dog for a companion,
but without his crutches, and helped only by a
stout stick. He stood as straight as ever, and
moved with considerable freedom. l forebore to
speak to him, TOR 1t seems rs If anybody ought
to have the privilege of being alone, even a man
who has come to be regarded by every one of his
countrymen as a sort of personal property. On
Monday l met Colonel Fred Grant down town,
and | told him what had heard Of his fathers
photographed conversation, and asked if there
was any objection to its publication. He said he
thought his father would not say anything that
he objected to having published.
Very well. General Grant has finished four
articles for the Century, on Fort Donelson,
Pittsburg Landing, Vicksburg and another of
the battles of the war, and he has also finished
the first chapter Of a full autobiography. He
does not call it that. HIS modesty revOlts at
writing about himself; so he distinctly says: Il
am not writing my autobiography. l am only
writing my Observations; making merely a little
record of the events | have seen" That's all he
is doing; but when it is flushed it will be found
to be the fullest history of the man himself that
can be found.
~ am surprised" he said the other day, to
an old army officer of the class ahead of him,
ION sitting down to write, to find that the
things l remember the most wildly are those of
my youth and early life. The Mexican war, for
instance. 1t sometimes seems to me as if the
Mexican war must have happened after the Re
bellion-I remember some of the occurrences of
that time so much more distinctly. l am writ
ing up the Mexican war period now. Much of
it comes back as if it happened recently, es-
pecially the fight we had back of Chapultepce. "
l should think he would remember that, for
on that field he was brevetted to be captain
from a second lieutenan cy. l rode on horse
back around the castle of Chapultepec, last
spring, with Thomas c. Purdy, vice president of
the Mexican National railroad, and we ex-
amined that long slope where Brooks and Grant
took the Mexican redoubt so that SCOTS army
could advance. 1t is still covered with chapar-
raj" as it was then-a wilderness of scraggly
underbrush, with here and there q mighty
cypress that spread its vast shade there when
Cortez came. The redoubt is gone, but the side
hills that thanked it are there, and the ravine
where the wheeling charge" of the Yankees
was made, is a dark and ugly spot, and the fort
ress that scowls above seems impregnable.
ut was mere accident that put me into the
army, said Grant to his old comrade. Il hadn't
much fight in me, and didn't want to go to war.
| thought of being a farmer. and [ thought of
going to sea; but of all the possible futures l
dreamed of when a boy, being a soldier wasn't
among them. l am not sure 1 had ever heard of
West Point when my father told me to get ready
to go on for my preliminary examination. This
is the way it was: Our next neighbours boy got
a chance from our congressman to go to West
Point. He went and failed to pass the examina-
tions-for physical reasons, [ believe. He did
not come home after that, and the family
did not allude to his failure, but his
mother, who felt very sore about it.
came and told my mother confdentially
what was troubling her. Mother told father,
and father wrote straight to our congressman,
and got the chance for me. Oh, yes, 1 know
that those who remember my boyhood tell about
my firing q pistol without hinching when l was
two yeras old, and crying for more of it, but L
didn't think such tendencies were strong. I
never thought of being a soldier. Going to
West Point was just the accident l have told
you"
How came you to pass the examination"
asked my informant.
almost any boy can do that" answered the
General. Il was seventeen years old, and all
that was required was some knowledge of read
ing, writing, spelling and arithmetic to decimal
fractions. If / was superstitious l should think
there was some fatality in my going to West
Point, for when the war was over | figured up,
and, as near as l cold find out, that little country
village of Georgetown, o., from which l went
a place Of a couple of hundred people-sent to
the war one full general myself three major
generals, two brigadiergenerals, three colonies,
three or four line officers, and one private sol
dierl The private deserted, | think.
Il had no very easy time of it at West Point.
In a class of more than 100, l was behind them
all in almost everything. | never succeeded in
class. l was within three of the foot in languages,
l believe, and within five of the head in mathe-
MATES. l was at the head in horsemanskip, but
that didn't count l graduated at No. 81, and
was glad to get it,
But only thirty-eight out of the hundred odd
graduated, said his visitor; rather harder luck
than our class had"
mot a few said the General, "who had to
leave school because of a failure to keep up with
the class, have since taken commanding posi-
tions in life, and would probably have succeeded
in the army if they had only got into it," l I'M
derstand that the disasters into which Ferdinand
Ward led the family have proved som ewhat less
destructive than at first anticipated, and that
the General will keep considerable of his proper
ty. The boys" are pretty badly off, though,
and one of them intends to go TO South America
next winter, to lead ommeree to the United
States"
General Grants Income.
New York Commercial Advertiser.