CHAPTER IV.

HIS LIFE IN NEW-YORK.

GENERAL SHERMAN has been for five years

one of the most familiar figures in New York. He was a devoted theatre-goer, and it did not take long for the amusement-seeking public to learn who he was and to honor him whenever he appeared in the auditorium, whether in a box. or in the ordinary orchestra chair. It was the custom of the spectators on such occasions to give evidence of their knowledge of the presence of the General, and it was not an infrequent thing for them to applaud him liberally on his entrance to the theatre.

On one occasion, the representation of "Shenandoah," at the Twenty-third Street Theatre, the audience became so enthusiastic over the presence

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of General Sherman in a box that it compelled him by its applause to come forward and make a speech from the box-rail. In all these demonstrations there was ever evinced the greatest respect and love. His very appearance riveted the attention of the spectators and his civilian dress could not disguise the bearing of the soldier, while his stern and furrowed face always indicated the warrior.

Another cause of the familiarity of the public with General Sherman's personality was his frequent presence at public dinners. There is no association of any prominence in New York City at some annual banquet of which General Sherman has not been an honored guest, and on a vast majority of these festive occasions he made speeches. At all celebrations, civil and military that the town has known since 1886, General Sherman was conspicuous, and on all such occasions the same spirit of reverence, respect and love was manifested toward him,

Immediately prior to 1886 General Sherman lived in St. Louis. In the latter part of that year he removed to New York and took up his residence

at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. For nearly two years he resided there, and then, in 1888, he removed to his late residence, 75 West Seventy-first Street, where he established a thoroughly comfortable home with his daughters. This house was comparatively new and the General took a lively personal interest in its fittings and furnishings. He had in the basement what he was wont to call his office, and the decorations of this apartment were almost wholly reminiscent of his military career. The walls were adorned with photographs of his comrades and subordinates in the civil war, each of whom he recalled vividly and about whom he was always ready to relate some interesting anecdote. In the centre of the apartment he had his working desk, a plain piece of ordinary office furniture, which was generally littered with letters and telegrams. Close by this, at the side of the room, was another desk at which his private secretary was accustomed to sit and receive daily instructions.

Among the photographs on the walls was a central group of three pictures. The middle one of these was a full-length likeness of Ulysses S.

Grant standing in an easy pose, with the left hand thrust into the breast of a fatigue coat and the right deep down in the trousers pocket. To the left of this was a picture of Phil Sheridan in full uniform, and to the right was a picture of General Sherman himself, also in full uniform. He was especially fond of these pictures of Grant and Sheridan. He was wont to say that he knew of no other likeness of Grant that showed so clearly the repose of the man. It had been taken at the close of the war, when Grant was down to fighting weight, as the General expressed it, and before he had become fleshy and taken on the heavy look that appears in some of his later pictures. The picture of Sheridan had been selected by General Sheridan out of many hundreds, and on this account General Sherman preferred it to all others. He used to say that he loved these pictures because they recalled to him the men as he had known them best.

His parlors were simply but tastefully decorated, the two most conspicuous objects that adorned them being a life-size oil portrait of his dead wife and another of himself. His household

was thoroughly democratic, and his guests were always received without oppressive ceremony and were made to feel at home at once. He loved this home that he had made because of its peace and rest. It was a refuge from excitement, and it was a pleasure for him to retire to it after the diversion of the theatre or the banquet hall. It was in an excellent neighborhood near Central Park, and there the General loved to wander on pleasant days with his grandchildren, of whom he had eight. None of these lived with him, but they visited him frequently, and considered it the highest privilege as well as the greatest pleasure to walk with him.

General Sherman was always a most delightful host. His welcome was cordial and hospitable, and the guests felt at once at ease while realizing the honor and the privilege of the association. As a raconteur he was admirable. He had lived so long, had seen so much, and had done so much that the least suggestion brought forth from him stories that were both instructive and entertaining. On his seventieth birthday, which he celebrated by a little dinner in his home on the