. The great American book of biography . and found that Ward hadabsconded, and that he and his children were utterly ruined. Only a few daysbefore, Ward had induced him to borrow one hundred thousand dollars, underthe pretence that this sum would enable him to discharge some pressing-claimsupon a bank in which the firm had large deposits. Grant went to W. H. Van-derbilt and asked for the money as a loan. Vanderbilt sat down and drew acheck for it, and handed it to his visitor. Grant had no idea that the firm withwhich his name had been identified existed upon sheer roguery. But all thepapers w
. The great American book of biography . and found that Ward hadabsconded, and that he and his children were utterly ruined. Only a few daysbefore, Ward had induced him to borrow one hundred thousand dollars, underthe pretence that this sum would enable him to discharge some pressing-claimsupon a bank in which the firm had large deposits. Grant went to W. H. Van-derbilt and asked for the money as a loan. Vanderbilt sat down and drew acheck for it, and handed it to his visitor. Grant had no idea that the firm withwhich his name had been identified existed upon sheer roguery. But all thepapers were soon full of the shameful story. The famous soldier saw but tooclearly that he had been used as a decoy by an abominable swindler. House,money, books, furniture, his swords, and other presents—the money of his chil-dren and many of his friends—everything was gone, including, as he thought,his honor. It was afterward clearly seen diat he had no complicity whatever in q,!]!!l|ll!IK;ilT!lBi:iTlirllll »h|»i«m™«i i>:,tuKmii. FINISHING HIS MEMOIRS. 293 the frauds committed by his partners,—that he was the chief of the sufferers, notin any way a culprit. The sympathy of the people went out to him ; once morehe rallied from enfeebled health and a wounded spirit, and he began to believethat in time he might recover from this disastrous blow. But another great calamity was hanging over him. A few months after thefailure of the firm, he began to complain of a pain in his throat. Gradually itgrew worse; and at last the dread fact could no longer be concealed that hisdisease was cancer. He had already begun to write his Memoirs, urged onby the one hope which now remained to him—the hope of making some provi-sion for his family in place of that which they had lost. But the torment whichnow visited him, day and night, obliged him to stop. He could not lie downwithout bringing on fits of choking ; he would sit for hours, as General Badeauhas said, propped up in his chair,
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