the history of that empire. He sailed from Yokohama, 3 Sept., and reached San Francisco on the 20th. He had not visited the Pacific coast since he had served there as a lieutenant of infantry. Preparations had been made for a reception that should surpass any ever accorded to a public man in that part of the country, and the demonstration in the harbor of San Francisco on his arrival formed a pageant equal to anything of the kind seen in modern times. On his journey east he was tendered banquets and public receptions, and greeted with every manifestation of welcome in the different cities at which he stopped. Early in 1880 he travelled through some of the southern states and visited Cuba and Mexico. In the latter country he was hailed as its staunchest and most pronounced friend in the days of its struggle against foreign usurpation, and the people testified their gratitude by extending to him every possible act of personal and official courtesy. On his return he took his family to his old home in Galena, Ill. A popular movement had begun looking to his renomination that year for the presidency, and overtures were made to him to draw him into an active canvass for the purpose of accomplishing this result; but he declined to take any part in the movement, and preferred that the nomination should either come to him unsolicited or not at all. When the Republican convention met in Chicago in June, 1880, his name was presented, and for thirty-six ballots he received a vote that only varied between 302 and 313. Many of his warmest admirers were influenced against his nomination by a traditional sentiment against a third presidential term, and after a long and exciting session the delegates to the convention compromised by nominating Gen. James A. Garfield. Gen. Grant devoted himself loyally during this political canvass to the success of the party that had so often honored him, and contributed largely by his efforts to the election of the candidate.
In August, 1881, Gen. Grant bought a house in
New York, where he afterward spent his winters,
while his summers were passed at his cottage at
Long Branch. On Christmas eve, 1883, he slipped
and fell upon the icy sidewalk in front of his house,
and received an injury to his hip, which proved so
severe that he never afterward walked without the
aid of a crutch. Finding himself unable with his
income to support his family properly, he had
become a partner in a banking-house in which one of
his sons and others were interested, bearing the
name of Grant and Ward, and invested all his available
capital in the business. He took no part in the
management, and the affairs of the firm were left
almost entirely in the hands of the junior partner.
In May, 1884, the firm without warning suspended.
It was found that two of the partners had been
practising a series of unblushing frauds, and had
robbed the general and his family of all they
possessed, and left them hopelessly bankrupt. Until
this time he had refused all solicitations to write
the history of his military career for publication,
intending to leave it to the official records and the
historians of the war. Almost his only contribution
to literature was an article entitled “An
Undeserved Stigma,” in the “North American
Review” for December, 1882, which he wrote as an
act of justice to Gen. Fitz-John Porter, whose case
he had personally investigated. But now he was
approached by the conductors of the “Century”
magazine with an invitation to write a series of
articles on his principal campaigns, which he
accepted, for the purpose of earning money, of which
he was then greatly in need, and he accordingly
produced four articles for that periodical. Finding
this a congenial occupation, and receiving
handsome offers from several publishers, he set
himself to the task of preparing two volumes of
personal memoirs, in which he told the story of
his life down to the close of the war, and proved
himself a natural and charming
writer, and a valuable contributor
to history. The contract
for the publication of the book
was made on 27 Feb., 1885,
and the work appeared about a
year afterward. The sales were
enormous, having reached up
to this time 312,000 sets. The amount that Mrs.
Grant has already (June, 1887) received as her
share of the profits is $394,459.53, paid in two
checks, of $200,000 and $150,000, and several smaller
amounts, the largest sum ever received by an
author or his representatives from the sale of any
single work. It is expected by the publishers that
the amount of half a million dollars will be
ultimately paid to the general's family. In the
summer of 1884 Gen. Grant complained of a soreness
in the throat and roof of the mouth. In August
he consulted a physician, and a short time afterward
the disease was pronounced to be cancer at
the root of the tongue. The sympathies of the
entire nation were now aroused, messages of hope
and compassion poured in from every quarter, and
on 4 March, 1885, congress passed a bill creating
him a general on the retired list, thus restoring him
to his former rank in the army. He knew that his
disease would soon prove fatal. He now bent all his
energies to the completing of his “Memoirs,” in
order that the money realized from the sale might
provide for his family. He summoned all his will
power to this task, and nothing in his career was
more heroic than the literary labor he now
performed. Hovering between life and death, suffering
