Grant, in the winter following the Corinth campaign, worn out with watching, anxiety, and continued activity, lay sick at a hotel in Memphis. His wife was with him, and was much concerned about the state of his health. One morning she joined the ladies in the parlor, seeming very much depressed. She said the surgeon had just been to see Mr. Grant, as she called him, and declared that he would not be able to go much farther if the patient did not stimulate. "And I cannot persuade him to do so," she added. "He says he shall not die, and will not taste a drop of liquor on any consideration." In less than a week he was on his way to Vicksburg. On board of the headquarters boat at Milliken's Bend, Grant was studying his maps and plans in the ladies' cabin, wholly absorbed in the mighty thought of planning a campaign. He heeded nothing that transpired around him, and no one ventured to interrupt him. For hours he sat in this thoughtful mood, and his friends feared that his mental labors would overwhelm his physical frame. McPherson at last had the temerity to speak to him, and presenting a glass of whiskey, invited him to join the party in a few toasts, to shake off the burden upon his mind. "Mac, you know that your whiskey will not help me to think," he replied, looking up with a smile. "Give me half a dozen of the best cigars you can find, and if the ladies will excuse me for smoking, I think by the time I have finished them, I shall have this job pretty nearly planned." He continued his labor; the lines on his face deepened again; the company left him smoking and brooding over his maps and plans; but not a drop of liquor passed his lips. "I have some fine brandy on the boat," said a gentleman to him during the operations at Vicksburg, when Grant seemed to be exhausted by his cares and his labors; "I will send you a case or two of it." "I am greatly obliged to you," replied the general; "but I do not use the article. I have a big job on hand, and though I know I shall win, I know I must do it with a cool head. Send the liquor you intend for me to my hospital in the rear. I don't think a little will hurt the poor fellows down there." None for himself, strained in mind and muscle by cares and toils that would have overcome any other man; but a blessed thought for the poor wounded ones whom he had led to victory over the couch of pain and death! At a celebration of Washington's birthday before Vicksburg, the company, of whom Grant was one, indulged freely in champagne, drinking patriotic toasts, suggested by the day. The general pushed aside a glass of the sparkling beverage intended for his use, and took up a glass of Mississippi water. "This suits the matter in hand," said he, glancing at the opaque fluid in the glass. "Drink this toast: God gave us Lincoln and Liberty: let us fight for both."