Samuel Byers - Twenty Years in Europe

I answered: “Ours is a prosperous country, with our protective tariff system.” “Yes, I know, in spite of your tariff. I have heard that, a hundred times. Some day, you will be just like us, and get where you can get the cheapest. You don’t think making things dear helps anybody, do you?” Politeness prevented much discussion. It was all one way. Besides, was it not to hear her talk, not ourselves, that we were there?

She went back to the black man, or the black woman rather. “I had a good laugh on my dear husband, the Emperor, once. He lived in your country awhile, you know, and he was always fancying your pretty women. One day at New Orleans he saw a beautiful female form ahead of him in the street. It was all grace of movement, and elegance of apparel. He was struck by the figure. I think he was half in love. ‘I must see her face,’ he exclaimed to his companion. ‘I must see her. She is my divinity, running away.’ He hurried his pace, passed her, and the moment politeness would permit, glanced back. It was a ‘mulatto.’ I don’t think he always regarded black people quite in the light I did.”

Shortly we proposed to go, though she made no sign that the interview was at an end. “No,” she said. “Wait; I have leisure, nothing but leisure and rheumatism.” But she had no rheumatic look; a more charming-looking woman of fifty, I never saw. Her bright eyes were as blue as the sky, her complexion exceeding fair, her hair still golden, her vivacity of manner and cleverness of speech surprising beyond measure; and then her kindness made us feel that we were talking with a friend. All of us were led on to say much, and the visit lasted for two hours. Much of the talk was about Switzerland and health resorts, and so much at random as not to be remembered or noted down.

When at last we arose to go, she again came to the middle of the room and took us each by the hand. And then I asked her a word about her future plans. “There are none,” she said. “All is over. I have only my son, and he and I will spend our lives in quiet and peace.” Alas! only a few years went by and that son was lying dead in an African cornfield, his body pierced by Zulu lances.

In June General Sherman has written again about Miss S.’s travels, and also something about the French Republic, and the Modoc War:

“Dear Byers: I am just in receipt of your letter of May 20. Mr. Rublee was here not long since en route for Rome, and from what he said I think he has made no business arrangements, and that he will stay there his full term.

“We have letters from Minnie up to May 20, at Rome, at which time she had joined the Healys, and will accompany them to Venice, Milan, Nice and Pau, France, a route that takes her well away from Zurich, but she begs to be allowed to remain abroad longer, say till next spring, so as to enable her to have more time to stay with you and to visit England and Ireland. I suppose she ought to reach Switzerland in July or August and stay with you a month or more. I have given her my consent, and hope before she reaches you you will have all our letters on the subject. If she stays beyond October, she had better not attempt a winter passage, but wait till April or May. This will make a long visit, but I suppose it will be the only chance she will ever have, and she might as well profit by it.

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“Switzerland and the Swiss.”

A detailed description of the incidents of the adventure within the lines of the enemy appeared in the Atlantic Monthly, May, 1880, and is repeated in Mr. Byers’ “Last Man of the Regiment.”