THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
appearance of the popular enthusiasm. But it fell naturally into disuse when many of the followers, who had formed his brilliant retinue in triumphal progresses, dispersed to seek for themselves the means of living; when poverty had compelled him to retire into seclusion and modest quarters, and when, appearing on the street, he was no longer surrounded by cheering crowds, but at best was greeted with silent respect by a few persons who recognized him.
This was the condition of his affairs when I called at the very unpretending cottage he inhabited in one of the suburbs of London. The door was opened by a man well advanced in years, of an honest, winning countenance typically Hungarian, with keen dark eyes, broad cheekbones, and gleaming teeth. From his appearance I judged that he was rather a friend, a devoted companion, than a servant, and such I afterwards learned him to be. Without ceremony he took me into a very plainly furnished little parlor where, he said, the “governor” would receive me.
After a few moments Kossuth came in and greeted me with cordial kindness. He had aged much since I had last seen him. His hair and beard were streaked with gray. Yet his voice still retained the mellow tones which, but a few years ago, had charmed such countless multitudes. He spoke much of his American tour, praised the hospitable spirit of the American people, and with quiet dignity expressed his disappointment at the fruitlessness of his efforts. He drew a gloomy picture of existing conditions in Europe, but thought that such a state of things could not endure and that the future was not without hope. After a while, Madame Kossuth came into the room, and Kossuth introduced me to his wife with some kind remarks. She spoke to me with great politeness, but I must confess that I was somewhat prejudiced against her. In her prosperity she
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