While my father carried
on the manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself,
he owned and tilled considerable land.
on the manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself,
he owned and tilled considerable land.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v11 - Fro to Gre
S.
Hancock was its secretary.
He remained markedly unmilitary throughout his course, and was
remembered mainly as a good comrade, a youth of sound judgment,
and the finest horseman in the academy. He asked to be assigned
to cavalry duty, but was brevetted second lieutenant of the 4th
Infantry, and ordered to Jefferson Barracks, near St. Louis. Here
he remained till the spring of 1844, when his regiment was ordered
to a point on the southwestern frontier, near the present town of
Natchitoches, Louisiana. Here he remained till May 1845, when the
Mexican War opened, and for the next three years he served with
his regiment in every battle except Buena Vista. He was twice
promoted for gallant conduct, and demonstrated his great cool-
ness, resource, and bravery in the hottest fire. He was regimental
quartermaster much of the time, and might honorably have kept
out of battle, but he contrived to be in the forefront with his com-
mand.
In the autumn of 1848 he married Miss Julia Dent of St. Louis,
and as first lieutenant and regimental quartermaster, with a brevet
of captain, he served at Sackett's Harbor and Detroit alternately till
June 1852, when he was ordered to the coast. This was a genuine
hardship, for he was unable to take his wife and child with him;
but he concluded to remain in the army, and went with his com-
mand, sailing from New York and passing by the way of the Isth-
mus. On the way across the Isthmus the regiment encountered
cholera, and all Grant's coolness, resource, and bravery were required
to get his charge safely across. "He seemed never to think of him-
self, and appeared to be a man of iron," his companions said.
He was regimental quartermaster at Fort Vancouver, near Port-
land, Oregon, for one year. In 1853 he was promoted to a captaincy
and ordered to Fort Humboldt, near Eureka in California.
In 1854,
becoming disheartened by the never-ending vista of barrack life,
and despairing of being able to have his wife and children with him,
he sent in his resignation, to take effect July 31st, 1854. He had lost
money by unfortunate business ventures, and so returned forlorn and
penniless to New York. Thence he made his way to St. Louis to
his wife and children, and began the world again as a farmer, with-
out a house or tools or horses.
His father-in-law, Mr. Frederick Dent, who lived about ten miles
out of the city, set aside some sixty or eighty acres of land for his
use, and thereon he built with his own hands a log cabin, which he
called "Hardscrabble. " For nearly four years he lived the life of a
## p. 6595 (#589) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6595
farmer. He plowed, hoed, cleared the land, hauled wood and props
to the mines, and endured all the hardships and privations of a small
farmer. In 1858 his health gave way, and he moved to St. Louis in
the attempt to get into some less taxing occupation. He tried for
the position of county engineer, and failed. He went into the real
estate business with a friend, and failed in that. He secured a place
in the customs office, but the collector died and he was thrown out
of employment.
In the spring of 1860, despairing of getting a foothold in St. Louis,
he removed to Galena, Illinois, where his father had established a
leather store, a branch of his tannery in Covington, Kentucky. Here
he came in touch again with his two brothers, Simpson and Orvil
Grant. He became a clerk at a salary of six hundred dollars per
annum. At this time he was a quiet man of middle age, and his
manner and mode of life attracted little attention till in 1861, when
Sumter was fired upon and Lincoln called for volunteers. Galena at
once held a war meeting to raise a company. Captain Grant, because
of his military experience, was made president of the meeting, and
afterward was offered the captaincy of the company, which he re-
fused, saying, "I have been a captain in the regular army.
I am
fitted to command a regiment. "
He wrote at once a patriotic letter to his father-in-law, wherein
he said, "I foresee the doom of slavery. " He accompanied the com-
pany to Springfield, where his military experience was needed.
Governor Richard Yates gave him work in the adjutant's office,
then made him drill-master at Camp Yates; and as his efficiency
became apparent he was appointed governor's aide, with rank of
colonel. He mustered in several regiments, among them the 7th
Congressional regiment at Mattoon. He made such an impression on
this regiment that they named their camp in his honor, and about
the middle of June sent a delegation of officers to ask that he be
made colonel. Governor Yates reluctantly appointed him, and at the
request of General John C. Frémont, the commander of the Depart-
ment of the West, Grant's regiment (known as the 21st Illinois Volun-
teers) was ordered to Missouri. Colonel Grant marched his men
overland, being the first commander of the State to decline railway
transportation. His efficiency soon appeared, and he was given the
command of all the troops in and about Mexico, Missouri. At this
point he received a dispatch from E. B. Washburne, Congressman for
his district, that President Lincoln had made him brigadier-general.
He was put in command at Ironton, Missouri, and was proceeding
against Colonel Hardee, when he was relieved from command by
B. M. Prentiss and ordered to Jefferson City, Missouri. He again
brought order out of chaos, and was ready for a campaign, when he
## p. 6596 (#590) ###########################################
6596
ULYSSES S. GRANT
was again relieved, and by suggestion of President Lincoln placed
in command of a district with headquarters at Cairo, Illinois.
On
This was his first adequate command, and with clear and orderly
activity he organized his command of nearly ten thousand men.
the 6th of September, learning that the Confederates were advancing
on Paducah, he took the city without firing a gun, and issued an
address to the people of Kentucky which led Lincoln to say, "The
man who can write like that is fitted to command in the West. "
Early in November, in obedience to a command from Frémont, he
fought the battle of Belmont, thus preventing General Polk from
reinforcing Price in Missouri. This was neither a victory nor a
defeat, as the purpose was not to hold Belmont.
In February 1862, with an army of twenty thousand men and
accompanied by Commander Foote's flotilla, he took Fort Henry and
marched on Fort Donelson. On the 16th of the same month he had
invested Donelson and had beaten the enemy within their works.
General Simon Buckner, his old classmate and comrade, was in com-
mand. He wrote to Grant, asking for commissioners to agree upon
terms. Grant replied: "No terms except an unconditional and immediate
surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon your works. "
Buckner surrendered, and Grant's sturdy words flamed over the land,
making him "Unconditional Surrender Grant. " The whole nation
thrilled with the surprise and joy of this capture, and the obscure
brigadier-general became the hero of the day. He was made major-
general, and given the command of the District of Western Tennessee.
On the 6th and 7th of April he fought the terrible battle of
Shiloh, and won it, though with great loss, owing to the failure of
part of his reinforcements to arrive. Immediately after this battle,
General H. W. Halleck, who had relieved General Frémont as com-
mander in the West, took command in person, and by a clever mili-
tary device deprived Grant of all command; and for six weeks the
army timidly advanced on Corinth. Corinth was evacuated by the
enemy before Halleck dared to attack, and Grant had no hand in
any important command until late in the year.
Halleck went to Washington in July, leaving Grant again in com-
mand; but his forces were so depleted that he could do little but
defend his lines and stores. In January 1863 he began to assemble
his troops to attack Vicksburg, but high water kept him inactive till
the following April. His plan, then fully developed, was to run the
battery with gunboats and transports, march his troops across the
peninsula before the city, and flank the enemy from below. This
superbly audacious plan involved cutting loose from his base of sup-
plies and all communications. He was obliged to whip two armies in
detail, Johnston at Jackson, Mississippi, and Pemberton in command
## p. 6597 (#591) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6597
at Vicksburg. This marvelous campaign was executed to the letter,
and on the third day of July, Pemberton surrendered the largest body
of troops ever captured on this continent up to that time, and Grant
became the "man of destiny" of the army. All criticism was silenced.
The world's markets rose and fell with his daily doings. Lincoln
wrote him a letter of congratulation. The question of making "the
prop-hauler of the Gravois" general-in-chief of all the armies of the
United States was raised, and all the nation turned to him as the
savior of the republic.
He was made commander of all the armies of the Mississippi, and
proceeded to Chattanooga to rescue Rosecrans and his beleaguered
army. In a series of swift and dramatic battles he captured Lookout
Mountain and Missionary Ridge. Wherever he went, victory seemed
to follow. His calm demeanor never changed. He was bent on
"whipping out the Rebellion. " He was seen to be a warrior of a
new sort. He was never malignant, or cruel, or ungenerous to his
enemies; but he fought battles to win them, and the country now
clamored for him to lead the armies of the Potomac against Lee, the
great Southern general against whom no Northern general seemed
able to prevail.
Early in March of 1864, Hon. E. B. Washburne introduced into
Congress a bill reviving the grade of Lieutenant-General.
It was
passed by both houses with some discussion, and Lincoln conferred
the title and all it implied upon Grant. He called him to Washing-
ton, and placed the whole conduct of the war in his hands. "I don't
want to know your plans," he said. Grant became absolutely chief
in command, and set forth at once to direct the Army of the Poto-
mac in person, and to encompass Lee as he had captured the armies
of Buckner and Pemberton. His aim was not to whip Lee, but to
destroy his army and end the war. He began an enormous encircling
movement which never for one moment relaxed. The Army of the
Potomac retreated no more. It had a commander who never knew
when he was beaten.
He fought one day in the Wilderness, sustaining enormous losses;
but when the world expected retreat, he ordered an advance. He
fought another day, and on the third day ordered an advance. Lin-
coln said, "At last I have a general. " Grant never rested. After
every battle he advanced, inexorably closing around Lee. It took
him a year, but in the end he won. He captured Lee's army, and
ended the war on the 9th of April, 1865.
His terms with the cap-
tured general of the Southern forces were so chivalrous and generous
that it gained for him the respect and even admiration of the South-
ern people. They could not forget that he was conqueror, but they
acknowledged his greatness of heart. He had no petty revenges.
## p. 6598 (#592) ###########################################
6598
ULYSSES S. GRANT
ness.
Nothing in human history exceeds the contrasts in the life of
Ulysses Grant. When Lee surrendered to him, he controlled a battle
line from the Potomac to the Rio Grande, composed of a million
men. His lightest command had almost inconceivable power; and
yet he was the same man who had hauled wood in St. Louis and sold
awls and shoe-pegs in Galena, - he had been developed by opportu-
nity. Personally he remained simple to the point of inconspicuous-
His rusty blouse, his worn hat, his dusty boots, his low and
modest voice, gave no indication of his exalted position and his enor-
mous power. At the grand review of the armies in Washington in
May, he sat with musing eyes while the victorious legions passed
him, so unobtrusive in the throng that his troops could hardly distin-
guish his form and face; and when he returned to Galena, his old
home, he carried no visible sign of the power and glory to which he
had won his way step by step, by sheer power of doing things so
well that other and greater duties were intrusted to his keeping.
He presented a new type of soldier to the world. He was never
vengeful, never angry in battle. When others swore and uttered
ferocious cries, Grant remained master of himself and every faculty,
uttering no oaths, giving his commands in full, clear, simple, digni-
fied phrases. He hated conflict. He cared nothing for the pomp and
circumstance of war; it was not glorious to him; and when it was
all over he said, "I never want to see a soldier's uniform again. "
He was the chief citizen of the republic at the close of the war,
and when Lincoln was assassinated he was the mainstay of the repub-
lic. Every eye was turned upon him, and his calmness was most
salutary upon the nation. He became inevitably a candidate for
President, and was elected with great enthusiasm in 1868. In 1872
he was re-elected, and during his two terms his one great purpose
was to reconstruct the nation. He did all that he could to heal the
scars of war. He stood between the malignants of the North and the
helpless people of the South, always patient and sympathetic. His
administrations ran in turbulent times, and corruption was abroad in
official circles, but there is no evidence that he was touched by it.
His administration was attacked; he was acquitted.
In 1878, two years after his second term had ended, he went on a
trip around the world, visiting all the great courts and kings of the
leading nations. He received the most extraordinary honors ever
tendered to one human being by his fellows, but he returned to
Galena and to his boyhood home, the same good neighbor, just as
democratic in his intercourse as ever. He never forgot a face, whether
of the man who shod his horses or of the man who nominated him
for President, though he looked upon more people than any other
man in the history of the world.
## p. 6599 (#593) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6599
In 1880 he mistakenly became a candidate for a third term, and
was defeated. Shortly after this he moved to New York City, and
became a nominal partner in the firm of Grant & Ward. His name
was used in the business; he had little connection with it, for he was
growing old and failing in health.
In May 1884, through the rascality of Ferdinand Ward, the firm.
failed, and General Grant lost every dollar he owned. Just before the
crash, in the attempt to save the firm, he went to a wealthy friend
and borrowed a large sum of money. After the failure the grim old
commander turned over to his creditor every trophy, every present
which had been given him by his foreign friends, even the jeweled
favors of kings and queens and the swords presented to him by his
fellow-citizens and by his soldiers; he reserved nothing. He became
so poor that his pew rent became a burden, and the question of
earning a living came to him with added force, for he was old and
lame, and attacked by cancer of the tongue.
Now came the most heroic year of his life. Suffering almost
ceaseless pain, with the death shadow on him, he sat down to write
his autobiography for the benefit of his wife. He complained not at
all, and allowed nothing to stand in the way of his work. He wrote
on steadily, up to the very day of his death, long after the power of
speech was gone, revising his proofs, correcting his judgments of
commanders as new evidence arose, and in the end producing a book
which was a marvel of simple sincerity and modesty of statement,
and of transparent clarity of style. It took rank at once as one of
the great martial biographies of the world. It redeemed his name
and gave his wife a competency. It was a greater deed than the
taking of Vicksburg.
In this final illness his thoughts dwelt much upon the differences
between the North and the South. From Mt. McGregor, where he
was taken in June 1885 to escape the heat of the city, he sent forth
repeated messages of good-will to the South. In this hour the two
mighty purposes of his life grew clearer in men's minds. He had
put down the Rebellion, and from the moment of Lee's surrender
had set himself the task of reuniting the severed nation. "Let us have
peace," he said; and the saying had all the effect of a benediction.
He died on July 23d, 1885, at the age of sixty-three; and at his
grave the North and the South stood side by side in friendship, and
the great captains of opposing armies walked shoulder to shoulder,
bearing his body to its final rest on the bank of the Hudson River.
The world knew his faults, his mistakes, and his weaknesses; but
they were all forgotten in the memory of his great deeds as a war-
rior, and of his gentleness, modesty, candor, and purity as a man.
Since then it becomes increasingly more evident that he is to take
## p. 6600 (#594) ###########################################
6600
ULYSSES S. GRANT
his place as one of three or four figures of the first class in our
He was a man of action, and his deeds were of the
national history.
kind which mark epochs in history.
Hagelin Garland
EARLY LIFE
From Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant,
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
IN
N JUNE 1821 my father, Jesse R. Grant, married Hannah
Simpson. I was born on the 27th of April, 1822, at Point
Pleasant, Clermont County, Ohio. In the fall of 1823 we
moved to Georgetown, the county seat of Brown, the adjoining
county east. This place remained my home until at the age of
seventeen, in 1839, I went to West Point.
The schools at the time of which I write were very indiffer-
ent. There were no free schools, and none in which the scholars
were classified. They were all supported by subscription, and a
single teacher-who was often a man or a woman incapable of
teaching much, even if they imparted all they knew would
have thirty or forty scholars, male and female, from the infant.
learning the A B C's up to the young lady of eighteen and the
boy of twenty, studying the highest branches taught -the three
R's, "Reading, 'Riting, and 'Rithmetic. " I never saw an alge-
bra or other mathematical work higher than the arithmetic, in
Georgetown, until after I was appointed to West Point. I then
bought a work on algebra, in Cincinnati; but having no teacher,
it was Greek to me.
My life in Georgetown was uneventful. From the age of five
or six until seventeen, I attended the subscription schools of the
village, except during the winters of 1836-7 and 1838-9. The
former period was spent in Maysville, Kentucky, attending the
school of Richardson and Rand; the latter in Ripley, Ohio, at a
private school. I was not studious in habit, and probably did
not make progress enough to compensate for the outlay for board
and tuition. At all events, both winters were spent in going
## p. 6601 (#595) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6601
over the same old arithmetic which I knew every word of before,
and repeating, “A noun is the name of a thing," which I had
also heard my Georgetown teachers repeat until I had come to
believe it but I cast no reflections upon my old teacher Rich-
ardson. He turned out bright scholars from his school, many of
whom have filled conspicuous places in the service of their States.
Two of my contemporaries there- who I believe never attended
any other institution of learning-have held seats in Congress,
and one, if not both, other high offices; these are Wadsworth
and Brewster.
My father was from my earliest recollection in comfortable
circumstances, considering the times, his place of residence, and
the community in which he lived. Mindful of his own lack of
facilities for acquiring an education, his greatest desire in ma-
turer years was for the education of his children. Consequently,
as stated before, I never missed a quarter from school, from the
time I was old enough to attend till the time of leaving home.
This did not exempt me from labor. In my early days every
one labored more or less, in the region where my youth was
spent, and more in proportion to their private means.
It was
only the very poor who were exempt.
While my father carried
on the manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself,
he owned and tilled considerable land. I detested the trade, pre-
ferring almost any other labor; but I was fond of agriculture,
and of all employment in which horses were used.
We had,
among other lands, fifty acres of forest within a mile of the vil-
lage. In the fall of the year, choppers were employed to cut
enough wood to last a twelvemonth. When I was seven or eight
years of age, I began hauling all the wood used in the house
and shops. I could not load it on the wagons, of course, at that
time; but I could drive, and the choppers would load, and some
one at the house unload. When about eleven years old, I was
strong enough to hold a plow. From that age until seventeen
I did all the work done with horses, such as breaking up the
land, furrowing, plowing corn and potatoes, bringing in the crops
when harvested, hauling all the wood, besides tending two or
three horses, a cow or two, and sawing wood for stoves, etc. ,
while still attending school. For this I was compensated by the
fact that there was never any scolding or punishing by my par-
ents; no objection to rational enjoyments, such as fishing, going
to the creek a mile away to swim in summer, taking a horse and
## p. 6602 (#596) ###########################################
6602
ULYSSES S. GRANT
visiting my grandparents in the adjoining county, fifteen miles
off, skating on the ice in winter, or taking a horse and sleigh
when there was snow on the ground.
While still quite young I had visited Cincinnati, forty-five
miles away, several times, alone; also Maysville, Kentucky,-
often, and once Louisville. The journey to Louisville was a big
one for a boy of that day. I had also gone once with a two-
horse carriage to Chillicothe, about seventy miles, with a neigh-
bor's family who were removing to Toledo, Ohio, and returned
alone; and had gone once in like manner to Flat Rock, Ken-
tucky, about seventy miles away. On this latter occasion I was
fifteen years of age. While at Flat Rock, at the house of a Mr.
Payne, whom I was visiting with his brother, a neighbor of ours
in Georgetown, I saw a very fine saddle horse which I rather
coveted; and proposed to Mr. Payne, the owner, to trade him
for one of the two I was driving. Payne hesitated to trade with
a boy, but asking his brother about it, the latter told him that it
would be all right; that I was allowed to do as I pleased with
the horses. I was seventy miles from home, with a carriage to
take back, and Mr. Payne said he did not know that his horse
had ever had a collar on. I asked to have him hitched to a farm
wagon, and we would soon see whether he would work.
It was
soon evident that the horse had never worn harness before; but
he showed no viciousness, and I expressed a confidence that I
could manage him. A trade was at once struck, I receiving ten
dollars difference.
――――
The next day, Mr. Payne of Georgetown and I started on our
return. We got along very well for a few miles, when we en-
countered a ferocious dog that frightened the horses and made
them run. The new animal kicked at every jump he made. I
got the horses stopped, however, before any damage was done,
and without running into anything. After giving them a little
rest, to quiet their fears, we started again. That instant the new
horse kicked, and started to run once more. The road we were
on struck the turnpike within half a mile of the point where
the second runaway commenced, and there was an embankment
twenty or more feet deep on the opposite side of the pike. I got
the horses stopped on the very brink of the precipice. My new
horse was terribly frightened, and trembled like an aspen; but he
was not half so badly frightened as my companion Mr. Payne,
who deserted me after this last experience, and took passage on
## p. 6603 (#597) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6603
a freight wagon for Maysville. Every time I attempted to start,
my new horse would commence to kick. I was in quite a di-
lemma for a time. Once in Maysville, I could borrow a horse
from an uncle who lived there; but I was more than a day's
travel from that point. Finally I took out my bandanna — the
style of handkerchief in universal use then- and with this blind-
folded my horse. In this way I reached Maysville safely the next
day, no doubt much to the surprise of my friend. Here I bor-
rowed a horse from my uncle, and the following day we pro-
ceeded on our journey.
About half my school days in Georgetown were spent at the
school of John D. White, a North-Carolinian, and the father of
Chilton White, who represented the district in Congress for one
term during the Rebellion. Mr. White was always a Democrat
in politics, and Chilton followed his father. He had two older
brothers, all three being schoolmates of mine at their father's
school,- who did not go the same way. The second brother died
before the Rebellion began; he was a Whig, and afterwards a
Republican. His oldest brother was a Republican and brave
soldier during the Rebellion. Chilton is reported as having told
of an earlier horse trade of mine. As he told the story, there
was a Mr. Ralston living within a few miles of the village, who
owned a colt which I very much wanted. My father had offered
twenty dollars for it, but Ralston wanted twenty-five. I was so
anxious to have the colt, that after the owner left I begged to
be allowed to take him at the price demanded. My father
yielded, but said twenty dollars was all the horse was worth, and
told me to offer that price; if it was not accepted I was to offer
twenty-two and a half, and if that would not get him, to give
the twenty-five. I at once mounted a horse and went for the
colt. When I got to Mr. Ralston's house, I said to him, “Papa
says I may offer you twenty dollars for the colt, but if you won't
take that, I am to offer twenty-two and a half, and if you won't
take that, to give you twenty-five. " It would not require a Con-
necticut man to guess the price finally agreed upon. This story
is nearly true. I certainly showed very plainly that I had come
for the colt and meant to have him. I could not have been over
eight years old at the time. This transaction caused me great
heart-burning. The story got out among the boys of the village,
and it was a long time before I heard the last of it. Boys enjoy
the misery of their companions,—at least village boys in that day
-
## p. 6604 (#598) ###########################################
6604
ULYSSES S. GRANT
did, and in later life I have found that all adults are not free
from the peculiarity. I kept the horse until he was four years
old, when he went blind, and I sold him for twenty dollars.
When I went to Maysville to school, in 1836, at the age of four-
teen, I recognized my colt as one of the blind horses working on
the tread-wheel of the ferry-boat.
I have described enough of my early life to give an impres-
sion of the whole. I did not like to work; but I did as much of
it, while young, as grown men can be hired to do in these days,
and attended school at the same time. I had as many privileges
as any boy in the village, and probably more than most of them.
I have no recollection of ever having been punished at home,
either by scolding or by the rod. But at school the case was dif-
ferent. The rod was freely used there, and I was not exempt
from its influence. I can see John D. White, the school-teacher,
now, with his long beech switch always in his hand. It was not
always the same one, either. Switches were brought in bundles
from a beech wood near the schoolhouse, by the boys for whose
benefit they were intended. Often a whole bundle would be used
up in a single day. I never had any hard feelings against my
teacher, either while attending the school or in later years when
reflecting upon my experience. Mr. White was a kind-hearted
man, and was much respected by the community in which he
lived. He only followed the universal custom of the period, and
that under which he had received his own education.
In the winter of 1838-9 I was attending school at Ripley, only
ten miles distant from Georgetown, but spent the Christmas holi-
days at home. During this vacation my father received a letter
from the Honorable Thomas Morris, then United States Senator
from Ohio. When he read it he said to me, "Ulysses, I believe
you are going to receive the appointment. " "What appoint-
ment? " I inquired. -"To West Point; I have applied for it. "
"But I won't go," I said. He said he thought I would, and I
thought so too, if he did. I really had no objection to going to
West Point, except that I had a very exalted idea of the acquire-
ments necessary to get through. I did not believe I possessed
them, and could not bear the idea of failing.
## p. 6605 (#599) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6605
GRANT'S COURTSHIP
From Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. ' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant,
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
AⓇ
T WEST POINT I had a classmate,- in the last year of our
studies he was room-mate also,-F. T. Dent, whose family
resided some five miles west of Jefferson Barracks. Two
of his unmarried brothers were living at home at that time, and
as I had taken with me from Ohio my horse, saddle, and bridle,
I soon found my way out to White Haven, the name of the
Dent estate. As I found the family congenial, my visits became
frequent. There were at home, besides the young men, two
daughters, one a school-miss of fifteen, the other a girl of eight
or nine.
There was still an older daughter of seventeen, who
had been spending several years at a boarding-school in St. Louis,
but who, though through school, had not yet returned home.
She was spending the winter in the city with connections, the
family of Colonel John O'Fallon, well known in St. Louis. In
February she returned to her country home. After that I do
not know but my visits became more frequent: they certainly
did become more enjoyable. We would often take walks, or go
on horseback to visit the neighbors, until I became quite well
acquainted in that vicinity. Sometimes one of the brothers
would accompany us, sometimes one of the younger sisters. If
the 4th Infantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks it is possible,
even probable, that this life might have continued for some years
without my finding out that there was anything serious the mat-
ter with me; but in the following May a circumstance occurred
which developed my sentiment so palpably that there was no
mistaking it.
The annexation of Texas was at this time the subject of vio-
lent discussion in Congress, in the press, and by individuals. The
administration of President Tyler, then in power, was making the
most strenuous efforts to effect the annexation, which was indeed
the great and absorbing question of the day. During these dis-
cussions the greater part of the single rifle regiment in the army
the 2d Dragoons, which had been dismounted a year or two
before, and designated "Dismounted Rifles "- was stationed at
Fort Jessup, Louisiana, some twenty-five miles east of the Texas
line, to observe the frontier. About the first of May the 3d
Infantry was ordered from Jefferson Barracks to Louisiana, to go
## p. 6606 (#600) ###########################################
6606
ULYSSES S. GRANT
ents.
into camp in the neighborhood of Fort Jessup, and there await
further orders. The troops were embarked on steamers, and were
on their way down the Mississippi within a few days after the
receipt of this order. About the time they started I obtained a
leave of absence for twenty days to go to Ohio to visit my par-
I was obliged to go to St. Louis to take a steamer for
Louisville or Cincinnati, or the first steamer going up the Ohio
River to any point. Before I left St. Louis, orders were received
at Jefferson Barracks for the 4th Infantry to follow the 3d. A
messenger was sent after me to stop my leaving; but before
he could reach me I was off, totally ignorant of these events. A
day or two after my arrival at Bethel I received a letter from
a classmate and fellow lieutenant in the 4th, informing me of
the circumstances related above, and advising me not to open
any letter postmarked St. Louis or Jefferson Barracks until the
expiration of my leave, and saying that he would pack up my
things and take them along for me. His advice was not neces-
sary, for no other letter was sent to me. I now discovered that
I was exceedingly anxious to get back to Jefferson Barracks, and
I understood the reason without explanation from any one. My
leave of absence required me to report for duty at Jefferson Bar-
racks at the end of twenty days. I knew my regiment had gone
up the Red River, but I was not disposed to break the letter of
my leave; besides, if I had proceeded to Louisiana direct, I could
not have reached there until after the expiration of my leave.
Accordingly, at the end of the twenty days I reported for duty
to Lieutenant Ewell, commanding at Jefferson Barracks, handing
him at the same time my leave of absence. After noticing the
phraseology of the order-leaves of absence were generally
worded, "at the end of which time he will report for duty with
his proper command" — he said he would give me an order to
join my regiment in Louisiana. I then asked for a few days'
leave before starting, which he readily granted. This was the
same Ewell who acquired considerable reputation as a Confederate
general during the Rebellion. He was a man much esteemed,
and deservedly so, in the old army, and proved himself a gallant
and efficient officer in two wars-both in my estimation unholy.
started for the country,
There is an insignificant
Barracks and the place
I immediately procured a horse and
taking no baggage with me, of course.
creek, the Gravois, between Jefferson
to which I was going, and at that day there was not a bridge
## p. 6607 (#601) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6607
over it from its source to its mouth. There is not water enough
in the creek at ordinary stages to run a coffee-mill, and at low
water there is none running whatever. On this occasion it had
been raining heavily, and when the creek was reached I found
the banks full to overflowing, and the current rapid. I looked at
it a moment to consider what to do. One of my superstitions
had always been when I started to go anywhere, or do anything,
not to turn back or stop until the thing intended was accom-
plished. I have frequently started to go to places where I had
never been and to which I did not know the way, depending
upon making inquiries on the road, and if I got past the place
without knowing it, instead of turning back, I would go on until
a road was found turning in the right direction, take that, and
come in by the other side. So I struck into the stream, and in
an instant the horse was swimming and I being carried down by
the current. I headed the horse towards the other bank and soon
reached it, wet through and without other clothes on that side of
the stream. I went on, however, to my destination and borrowed
a dry suit from my (future) brother-in-law. We were not of
the same size, but the clothes answered every purpose until I got
more of my own.
Before I returned I mustered up courage to make known, in
the most awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made
on learning that the 4th Infantry had been ordered away from
Jefferson Barracks. The young lady afterwards admitted that
she too, although until then she had never looked upon me other
than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to her, had expe-
rienced a depression of spirits she could not account for when
the regiment left. Before separating, it was definitely understood
that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not
let the removal of a regiment trouble us. This was in May 1844.
It was the 22d of August, 1848, before the fulfillment of this
agreement. My duties kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with
the Army of Observation during the pendency of Annexation;
and afterwards I was absent through the war with Mexico pro-
voked by the action of the army, if not by the annexation itself. .
During that time there was a constant correspondence between
Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of
four years and three months. In May 1845 I procured a leave
for twenty days, visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of
the parents for the union, which had not been asked for before.
## p. 6608 (#602) ###########################################
6608
ULYSSES S. GRANT
A TEXAN EXPERIENCE
From Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. ' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant.
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
I
HAD never been a sportsman in my life; had scarcely ever
gone in search of game, and rarely seen any when looking
for it. On this trip there was no minute of time while
traveling between San Patricio and the settlements on the San
Antonio River, from San Antonio to Austin, and again from the
Colorado River back to San Patricio, when deer or antelope
could not be seen in great numbers. Each officer carried a shot-
gun, and every evening after going into camp, some would go
out and soon return with venison and wild turkeys enough for
the entire camp.
I however never went out, and had no occas-
ion to fire my gun; except, being detained over a day at Goliad,
Benjamin and I concluded to go down to the creek - which was
fringed with timber, much of it the pecan—and bring back a
few turkeys. We had scarcely reached the edge of the timber
when I heard the flutter of wings overhead, and in an instant I
saw two or three turkeys flying away. These were soon followed
by more, then more and more, until a flock of twenty or thirty
had left from just over my head. All this time I stood watch-
ing the turkeys to see where they flew, with my gun on my
shoulder, and never once thought of leveling it at the birds.
When I had time to reflect upon the matter, I came to the con-
clusion that as a sportsman I was a failure, and went back to
the house. Benjamin remained out, and got as many turkeys as
he wanted to carry back.
After the second night at Goliad, Benjamin and I started to
make the remainder of the journey alone. We reached Corpus
Christi just in time to avoid "absence without leave. " We met
no one, not even an Indian, during the remainder of our jour-
ney, except at San Patricio. A new settlement had been started
there in our absence of three weeks, induced possibly by the
fact that there were houses already built, while the proximity
of troops gave protection against the Indians. On the evening
of the first day out from Goliad we heard the most unearthly
howling of wolves, directly in our front. The prairie grass was
tall and we could not see the beasts, but the sound indicated
that they were near. To my ear it appeared that there must
have been enough of them to devour our party, horses and all,
## p. 6609 (#603) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6609
at a single meal. The part of Ohio that I hailed from was not
thickly settled, but wolves had been driven out long before I
left. Benjamin was from Indiana, still less populated, where the
wolf yet roamed over the prairies. He understood the nature of
the animal, and the capacity of a few to make believe there was
an unlimited number of them. He kept on towards the noise,
unmoved. I followed in his trail, lacking moral courage to turn
back and join our sick companion. I have no doubt that if Ben-
jamin had proposed returning to Goliad, I would not only have
"seconded the motion," but have suggested that it was very
hard-hearted in us to leave Augur sick there in the first place;
but Benjamin did not propose turning back. When he did speak
it was to ask, «< Grant, how many wolves do you think there are
in that pack? " Knowing where he was from, and suspecting
that he thought I would overestimate the number, I determined
to show my acquaintance with the animal by putting the esti-
mate below what possibly could be correct, and answered, "Oh,
about twenty," very indifferently. He smiled and rode on. In
a minute we were close upon them, and before they saw us.
There were just two of them. Seated upon their haunches, with
their mouths close together, they had made all the noise we had.
He remained markedly unmilitary throughout his course, and was
remembered mainly as a good comrade, a youth of sound judgment,
and the finest horseman in the academy. He asked to be assigned
to cavalry duty, but was brevetted second lieutenant of the 4th
Infantry, and ordered to Jefferson Barracks, near St. Louis. Here
he remained till the spring of 1844, when his regiment was ordered
to a point on the southwestern frontier, near the present town of
Natchitoches, Louisiana. Here he remained till May 1845, when the
Mexican War opened, and for the next three years he served with
his regiment in every battle except Buena Vista. He was twice
promoted for gallant conduct, and demonstrated his great cool-
ness, resource, and bravery in the hottest fire. He was regimental
quartermaster much of the time, and might honorably have kept
out of battle, but he contrived to be in the forefront with his com-
mand.
In the autumn of 1848 he married Miss Julia Dent of St. Louis,
and as first lieutenant and regimental quartermaster, with a brevet
of captain, he served at Sackett's Harbor and Detroit alternately till
June 1852, when he was ordered to the coast. This was a genuine
hardship, for he was unable to take his wife and child with him;
but he concluded to remain in the army, and went with his com-
mand, sailing from New York and passing by the way of the Isth-
mus. On the way across the Isthmus the regiment encountered
cholera, and all Grant's coolness, resource, and bravery were required
to get his charge safely across. "He seemed never to think of him-
self, and appeared to be a man of iron," his companions said.
He was regimental quartermaster at Fort Vancouver, near Port-
land, Oregon, for one year. In 1853 he was promoted to a captaincy
and ordered to Fort Humboldt, near Eureka in California.
In 1854,
becoming disheartened by the never-ending vista of barrack life,
and despairing of being able to have his wife and children with him,
he sent in his resignation, to take effect July 31st, 1854. He had lost
money by unfortunate business ventures, and so returned forlorn and
penniless to New York. Thence he made his way to St. Louis to
his wife and children, and began the world again as a farmer, with-
out a house or tools or horses.
His father-in-law, Mr. Frederick Dent, who lived about ten miles
out of the city, set aside some sixty or eighty acres of land for his
use, and thereon he built with his own hands a log cabin, which he
called "Hardscrabble. " For nearly four years he lived the life of a
## p. 6595 (#589) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6595
farmer. He plowed, hoed, cleared the land, hauled wood and props
to the mines, and endured all the hardships and privations of a small
farmer. In 1858 his health gave way, and he moved to St. Louis in
the attempt to get into some less taxing occupation. He tried for
the position of county engineer, and failed. He went into the real
estate business with a friend, and failed in that. He secured a place
in the customs office, but the collector died and he was thrown out
of employment.
In the spring of 1860, despairing of getting a foothold in St. Louis,
he removed to Galena, Illinois, where his father had established a
leather store, a branch of his tannery in Covington, Kentucky. Here
he came in touch again with his two brothers, Simpson and Orvil
Grant. He became a clerk at a salary of six hundred dollars per
annum. At this time he was a quiet man of middle age, and his
manner and mode of life attracted little attention till in 1861, when
Sumter was fired upon and Lincoln called for volunteers. Galena at
once held a war meeting to raise a company. Captain Grant, because
of his military experience, was made president of the meeting, and
afterward was offered the captaincy of the company, which he re-
fused, saying, "I have been a captain in the regular army.
I am
fitted to command a regiment. "
He wrote at once a patriotic letter to his father-in-law, wherein
he said, "I foresee the doom of slavery. " He accompanied the com-
pany to Springfield, where his military experience was needed.
Governor Richard Yates gave him work in the adjutant's office,
then made him drill-master at Camp Yates; and as his efficiency
became apparent he was appointed governor's aide, with rank of
colonel. He mustered in several regiments, among them the 7th
Congressional regiment at Mattoon. He made such an impression on
this regiment that they named their camp in his honor, and about
the middle of June sent a delegation of officers to ask that he be
made colonel. Governor Yates reluctantly appointed him, and at the
request of General John C. Frémont, the commander of the Depart-
ment of the West, Grant's regiment (known as the 21st Illinois Volun-
teers) was ordered to Missouri. Colonel Grant marched his men
overland, being the first commander of the State to decline railway
transportation. His efficiency soon appeared, and he was given the
command of all the troops in and about Mexico, Missouri. At this
point he received a dispatch from E. B. Washburne, Congressman for
his district, that President Lincoln had made him brigadier-general.
He was put in command at Ironton, Missouri, and was proceeding
against Colonel Hardee, when he was relieved from command by
B. M. Prentiss and ordered to Jefferson City, Missouri. He again
brought order out of chaos, and was ready for a campaign, when he
## p. 6596 (#590) ###########################################
6596
ULYSSES S. GRANT
was again relieved, and by suggestion of President Lincoln placed
in command of a district with headquarters at Cairo, Illinois.
On
This was his first adequate command, and with clear and orderly
activity he organized his command of nearly ten thousand men.
the 6th of September, learning that the Confederates were advancing
on Paducah, he took the city without firing a gun, and issued an
address to the people of Kentucky which led Lincoln to say, "The
man who can write like that is fitted to command in the West. "
Early in November, in obedience to a command from Frémont, he
fought the battle of Belmont, thus preventing General Polk from
reinforcing Price in Missouri. This was neither a victory nor a
defeat, as the purpose was not to hold Belmont.
In February 1862, with an army of twenty thousand men and
accompanied by Commander Foote's flotilla, he took Fort Henry and
marched on Fort Donelson. On the 16th of the same month he had
invested Donelson and had beaten the enemy within their works.
General Simon Buckner, his old classmate and comrade, was in com-
mand. He wrote to Grant, asking for commissioners to agree upon
terms. Grant replied: "No terms except an unconditional and immediate
surrender can be accepted. I propose to move immediately upon your works. "
Buckner surrendered, and Grant's sturdy words flamed over the land,
making him "Unconditional Surrender Grant. " The whole nation
thrilled with the surprise and joy of this capture, and the obscure
brigadier-general became the hero of the day. He was made major-
general, and given the command of the District of Western Tennessee.
On the 6th and 7th of April he fought the terrible battle of
Shiloh, and won it, though with great loss, owing to the failure of
part of his reinforcements to arrive. Immediately after this battle,
General H. W. Halleck, who had relieved General Frémont as com-
mander in the West, took command in person, and by a clever mili-
tary device deprived Grant of all command; and for six weeks the
army timidly advanced on Corinth. Corinth was evacuated by the
enemy before Halleck dared to attack, and Grant had no hand in
any important command until late in the year.
Halleck went to Washington in July, leaving Grant again in com-
mand; but his forces were so depleted that he could do little but
defend his lines and stores. In January 1863 he began to assemble
his troops to attack Vicksburg, but high water kept him inactive till
the following April. His plan, then fully developed, was to run the
battery with gunboats and transports, march his troops across the
peninsula before the city, and flank the enemy from below. This
superbly audacious plan involved cutting loose from his base of sup-
plies and all communications. He was obliged to whip two armies in
detail, Johnston at Jackson, Mississippi, and Pemberton in command
## p. 6597 (#591) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6597
at Vicksburg. This marvelous campaign was executed to the letter,
and on the third day of July, Pemberton surrendered the largest body
of troops ever captured on this continent up to that time, and Grant
became the "man of destiny" of the army. All criticism was silenced.
The world's markets rose and fell with his daily doings. Lincoln
wrote him a letter of congratulation. The question of making "the
prop-hauler of the Gravois" general-in-chief of all the armies of the
United States was raised, and all the nation turned to him as the
savior of the republic.
He was made commander of all the armies of the Mississippi, and
proceeded to Chattanooga to rescue Rosecrans and his beleaguered
army. In a series of swift and dramatic battles he captured Lookout
Mountain and Missionary Ridge. Wherever he went, victory seemed
to follow. His calm demeanor never changed. He was bent on
"whipping out the Rebellion. " He was seen to be a warrior of a
new sort. He was never malignant, or cruel, or ungenerous to his
enemies; but he fought battles to win them, and the country now
clamored for him to lead the armies of the Potomac against Lee, the
great Southern general against whom no Northern general seemed
able to prevail.
Early in March of 1864, Hon. E. B. Washburne introduced into
Congress a bill reviving the grade of Lieutenant-General.
It was
passed by both houses with some discussion, and Lincoln conferred
the title and all it implied upon Grant. He called him to Washing-
ton, and placed the whole conduct of the war in his hands. "I don't
want to know your plans," he said. Grant became absolutely chief
in command, and set forth at once to direct the Army of the Poto-
mac in person, and to encompass Lee as he had captured the armies
of Buckner and Pemberton. His aim was not to whip Lee, but to
destroy his army and end the war. He began an enormous encircling
movement which never for one moment relaxed. The Army of the
Potomac retreated no more. It had a commander who never knew
when he was beaten.
He fought one day in the Wilderness, sustaining enormous losses;
but when the world expected retreat, he ordered an advance. He
fought another day, and on the third day ordered an advance. Lin-
coln said, "At last I have a general. " Grant never rested. After
every battle he advanced, inexorably closing around Lee. It took
him a year, but in the end he won. He captured Lee's army, and
ended the war on the 9th of April, 1865.
His terms with the cap-
tured general of the Southern forces were so chivalrous and generous
that it gained for him the respect and even admiration of the South-
ern people. They could not forget that he was conqueror, but they
acknowledged his greatness of heart. He had no petty revenges.
## p. 6598 (#592) ###########################################
6598
ULYSSES S. GRANT
ness.
Nothing in human history exceeds the contrasts in the life of
Ulysses Grant. When Lee surrendered to him, he controlled a battle
line from the Potomac to the Rio Grande, composed of a million
men. His lightest command had almost inconceivable power; and
yet he was the same man who had hauled wood in St. Louis and sold
awls and shoe-pegs in Galena, - he had been developed by opportu-
nity. Personally he remained simple to the point of inconspicuous-
His rusty blouse, his worn hat, his dusty boots, his low and
modest voice, gave no indication of his exalted position and his enor-
mous power. At the grand review of the armies in Washington in
May, he sat with musing eyes while the victorious legions passed
him, so unobtrusive in the throng that his troops could hardly distin-
guish his form and face; and when he returned to Galena, his old
home, he carried no visible sign of the power and glory to which he
had won his way step by step, by sheer power of doing things so
well that other and greater duties were intrusted to his keeping.
He presented a new type of soldier to the world. He was never
vengeful, never angry in battle. When others swore and uttered
ferocious cries, Grant remained master of himself and every faculty,
uttering no oaths, giving his commands in full, clear, simple, digni-
fied phrases. He hated conflict. He cared nothing for the pomp and
circumstance of war; it was not glorious to him; and when it was
all over he said, "I never want to see a soldier's uniform again. "
He was the chief citizen of the republic at the close of the war,
and when Lincoln was assassinated he was the mainstay of the repub-
lic. Every eye was turned upon him, and his calmness was most
salutary upon the nation. He became inevitably a candidate for
President, and was elected with great enthusiasm in 1868. In 1872
he was re-elected, and during his two terms his one great purpose
was to reconstruct the nation. He did all that he could to heal the
scars of war. He stood between the malignants of the North and the
helpless people of the South, always patient and sympathetic. His
administrations ran in turbulent times, and corruption was abroad in
official circles, but there is no evidence that he was touched by it.
His administration was attacked; he was acquitted.
In 1878, two years after his second term had ended, he went on a
trip around the world, visiting all the great courts and kings of the
leading nations. He received the most extraordinary honors ever
tendered to one human being by his fellows, but he returned to
Galena and to his boyhood home, the same good neighbor, just as
democratic in his intercourse as ever. He never forgot a face, whether
of the man who shod his horses or of the man who nominated him
for President, though he looked upon more people than any other
man in the history of the world.
## p. 6599 (#593) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6599
In 1880 he mistakenly became a candidate for a third term, and
was defeated. Shortly after this he moved to New York City, and
became a nominal partner in the firm of Grant & Ward. His name
was used in the business; he had little connection with it, for he was
growing old and failing in health.
In May 1884, through the rascality of Ferdinand Ward, the firm.
failed, and General Grant lost every dollar he owned. Just before the
crash, in the attempt to save the firm, he went to a wealthy friend
and borrowed a large sum of money. After the failure the grim old
commander turned over to his creditor every trophy, every present
which had been given him by his foreign friends, even the jeweled
favors of kings and queens and the swords presented to him by his
fellow-citizens and by his soldiers; he reserved nothing. He became
so poor that his pew rent became a burden, and the question of
earning a living came to him with added force, for he was old and
lame, and attacked by cancer of the tongue.
Now came the most heroic year of his life. Suffering almost
ceaseless pain, with the death shadow on him, he sat down to write
his autobiography for the benefit of his wife. He complained not at
all, and allowed nothing to stand in the way of his work. He wrote
on steadily, up to the very day of his death, long after the power of
speech was gone, revising his proofs, correcting his judgments of
commanders as new evidence arose, and in the end producing a book
which was a marvel of simple sincerity and modesty of statement,
and of transparent clarity of style. It took rank at once as one of
the great martial biographies of the world. It redeemed his name
and gave his wife a competency. It was a greater deed than the
taking of Vicksburg.
In this final illness his thoughts dwelt much upon the differences
between the North and the South. From Mt. McGregor, where he
was taken in June 1885 to escape the heat of the city, he sent forth
repeated messages of good-will to the South. In this hour the two
mighty purposes of his life grew clearer in men's minds. He had
put down the Rebellion, and from the moment of Lee's surrender
had set himself the task of reuniting the severed nation. "Let us have
peace," he said; and the saying had all the effect of a benediction.
He died on July 23d, 1885, at the age of sixty-three; and at his
grave the North and the South stood side by side in friendship, and
the great captains of opposing armies walked shoulder to shoulder,
bearing his body to its final rest on the bank of the Hudson River.
The world knew his faults, his mistakes, and his weaknesses; but
they were all forgotten in the memory of his great deeds as a war-
rior, and of his gentleness, modesty, candor, and purity as a man.
Since then it becomes increasingly more evident that he is to take
## p. 6600 (#594) ###########################################
6600
ULYSSES S. GRANT
his place as one of three or four figures of the first class in our
He was a man of action, and his deeds were of the
national history.
kind which mark epochs in history.
Hagelin Garland
EARLY LIFE
From Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant,
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
IN
N JUNE 1821 my father, Jesse R. Grant, married Hannah
Simpson. I was born on the 27th of April, 1822, at Point
Pleasant, Clermont County, Ohio. In the fall of 1823 we
moved to Georgetown, the county seat of Brown, the adjoining
county east. This place remained my home until at the age of
seventeen, in 1839, I went to West Point.
The schools at the time of which I write were very indiffer-
ent. There were no free schools, and none in which the scholars
were classified. They were all supported by subscription, and a
single teacher-who was often a man or a woman incapable of
teaching much, even if they imparted all they knew would
have thirty or forty scholars, male and female, from the infant.
learning the A B C's up to the young lady of eighteen and the
boy of twenty, studying the highest branches taught -the three
R's, "Reading, 'Riting, and 'Rithmetic. " I never saw an alge-
bra or other mathematical work higher than the arithmetic, in
Georgetown, until after I was appointed to West Point. I then
bought a work on algebra, in Cincinnati; but having no teacher,
it was Greek to me.
My life in Georgetown was uneventful. From the age of five
or six until seventeen, I attended the subscription schools of the
village, except during the winters of 1836-7 and 1838-9. The
former period was spent in Maysville, Kentucky, attending the
school of Richardson and Rand; the latter in Ripley, Ohio, at a
private school. I was not studious in habit, and probably did
not make progress enough to compensate for the outlay for board
and tuition. At all events, both winters were spent in going
## p. 6601 (#595) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6601
over the same old arithmetic which I knew every word of before,
and repeating, “A noun is the name of a thing," which I had
also heard my Georgetown teachers repeat until I had come to
believe it but I cast no reflections upon my old teacher Rich-
ardson. He turned out bright scholars from his school, many of
whom have filled conspicuous places in the service of their States.
Two of my contemporaries there- who I believe never attended
any other institution of learning-have held seats in Congress,
and one, if not both, other high offices; these are Wadsworth
and Brewster.
My father was from my earliest recollection in comfortable
circumstances, considering the times, his place of residence, and
the community in which he lived. Mindful of his own lack of
facilities for acquiring an education, his greatest desire in ma-
turer years was for the education of his children. Consequently,
as stated before, I never missed a quarter from school, from the
time I was old enough to attend till the time of leaving home.
This did not exempt me from labor. In my early days every
one labored more or less, in the region where my youth was
spent, and more in proportion to their private means.
It was
only the very poor who were exempt.
While my father carried
on the manufacture of leather and worked at the trade himself,
he owned and tilled considerable land. I detested the trade, pre-
ferring almost any other labor; but I was fond of agriculture,
and of all employment in which horses were used.
We had,
among other lands, fifty acres of forest within a mile of the vil-
lage. In the fall of the year, choppers were employed to cut
enough wood to last a twelvemonth. When I was seven or eight
years of age, I began hauling all the wood used in the house
and shops. I could not load it on the wagons, of course, at that
time; but I could drive, and the choppers would load, and some
one at the house unload. When about eleven years old, I was
strong enough to hold a plow. From that age until seventeen
I did all the work done with horses, such as breaking up the
land, furrowing, plowing corn and potatoes, bringing in the crops
when harvested, hauling all the wood, besides tending two or
three horses, a cow or two, and sawing wood for stoves, etc. ,
while still attending school. For this I was compensated by the
fact that there was never any scolding or punishing by my par-
ents; no objection to rational enjoyments, such as fishing, going
to the creek a mile away to swim in summer, taking a horse and
## p. 6602 (#596) ###########################################
6602
ULYSSES S. GRANT
visiting my grandparents in the adjoining county, fifteen miles
off, skating on the ice in winter, or taking a horse and sleigh
when there was snow on the ground.
While still quite young I had visited Cincinnati, forty-five
miles away, several times, alone; also Maysville, Kentucky,-
often, and once Louisville. The journey to Louisville was a big
one for a boy of that day. I had also gone once with a two-
horse carriage to Chillicothe, about seventy miles, with a neigh-
bor's family who were removing to Toledo, Ohio, and returned
alone; and had gone once in like manner to Flat Rock, Ken-
tucky, about seventy miles away. On this latter occasion I was
fifteen years of age. While at Flat Rock, at the house of a Mr.
Payne, whom I was visiting with his brother, a neighbor of ours
in Georgetown, I saw a very fine saddle horse which I rather
coveted; and proposed to Mr. Payne, the owner, to trade him
for one of the two I was driving. Payne hesitated to trade with
a boy, but asking his brother about it, the latter told him that it
would be all right; that I was allowed to do as I pleased with
the horses. I was seventy miles from home, with a carriage to
take back, and Mr. Payne said he did not know that his horse
had ever had a collar on. I asked to have him hitched to a farm
wagon, and we would soon see whether he would work.
It was
soon evident that the horse had never worn harness before; but
he showed no viciousness, and I expressed a confidence that I
could manage him. A trade was at once struck, I receiving ten
dollars difference.
――――
The next day, Mr. Payne of Georgetown and I started on our
return. We got along very well for a few miles, when we en-
countered a ferocious dog that frightened the horses and made
them run. The new animal kicked at every jump he made. I
got the horses stopped, however, before any damage was done,
and without running into anything. After giving them a little
rest, to quiet their fears, we started again. That instant the new
horse kicked, and started to run once more. The road we were
on struck the turnpike within half a mile of the point where
the second runaway commenced, and there was an embankment
twenty or more feet deep on the opposite side of the pike. I got
the horses stopped on the very brink of the precipice. My new
horse was terribly frightened, and trembled like an aspen; but he
was not half so badly frightened as my companion Mr. Payne,
who deserted me after this last experience, and took passage on
## p. 6603 (#597) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6603
a freight wagon for Maysville. Every time I attempted to start,
my new horse would commence to kick. I was in quite a di-
lemma for a time. Once in Maysville, I could borrow a horse
from an uncle who lived there; but I was more than a day's
travel from that point. Finally I took out my bandanna — the
style of handkerchief in universal use then- and with this blind-
folded my horse. In this way I reached Maysville safely the next
day, no doubt much to the surprise of my friend. Here I bor-
rowed a horse from my uncle, and the following day we pro-
ceeded on our journey.
About half my school days in Georgetown were spent at the
school of John D. White, a North-Carolinian, and the father of
Chilton White, who represented the district in Congress for one
term during the Rebellion. Mr. White was always a Democrat
in politics, and Chilton followed his father. He had two older
brothers, all three being schoolmates of mine at their father's
school,- who did not go the same way. The second brother died
before the Rebellion began; he was a Whig, and afterwards a
Republican. His oldest brother was a Republican and brave
soldier during the Rebellion. Chilton is reported as having told
of an earlier horse trade of mine. As he told the story, there
was a Mr. Ralston living within a few miles of the village, who
owned a colt which I very much wanted. My father had offered
twenty dollars for it, but Ralston wanted twenty-five. I was so
anxious to have the colt, that after the owner left I begged to
be allowed to take him at the price demanded. My father
yielded, but said twenty dollars was all the horse was worth, and
told me to offer that price; if it was not accepted I was to offer
twenty-two and a half, and if that would not get him, to give
the twenty-five. I at once mounted a horse and went for the
colt. When I got to Mr. Ralston's house, I said to him, “Papa
says I may offer you twenty dollars for the colt, but if you won't
take that, I am to offer twenty-two and a half, and if you won't
take that, to give you twenty-five. " It would not require a Con-
necticut man to guess the price finally agreed upon. This story
is nearly true. I certainly showed very plainly that I had come
for the colt and meant to have him. I could not have been over
eight years old at the time. This transaction caused me great
heart-burning. The story got out among the boys of the village,
and it was a long time before I heard the last of it. Boys enjoy
the misery of their companions,—at least village boys in that day
-
## p. 6604 (#598) ###########################################
6604
ULYSSES S. GRANT
did, and in later life I have found that all adults are not free
from the peculiarity. I kept the horse until he was four years
old, when he went blind, and I sold him for twenty dollars.
When I went to Maysville to school, in 1836, at the age of four-
teen, I recognized my colt as one of the blind horses working on
the tread-wheel of the ferry-boat.
I have described enough of my early life to give an impres-
sion of the whole. I did not like to work; but I did as much of
it, while young, as grown men can be hired to do in these days,
and attended school at the same time. I had as many privileges
as any boy in the village, and probably more than most of them.
I have no recollection of ever having been punished at home,
either by scolding or by the rod. But at school the case was dif-
ferent. The rod was freely used there, and I was not exempt
from its influence. I can see John D. White, the school-teacher,
now, with his long beech switch always in his hand. It was not
always the same one, either. Switches were brought in bundles
from a beech wood near the schoolhouse, by the boys for whose
benefit they were intended. Often a whole bundle would be used
up in a single day. I never had any hard feelings against my
teacher, either while attending the school or in later years when
reflecting upon my experience. Mr. White was a kind-hearted
man, and was much respected by the community in which he
lived. He only followed the universal custom of the period, and
that under which he had received his own education.
In the winter of 1838-9 I was attending school at Ripley, only
ten miles distant from Georgetown, but spent the Christmas holi-
days at home. During this vacation my father received a letter
from the Honorable Thomas Morris, then United States Senator
from Ohio. When he read it he said to me, "Ulysses, I believe
you are going to receive the appointment. " "What appoint-
ment? " I inquired. -"To West Point; I have applied for it. "
"But I won't go," I said. He said he thought I would, and I
thought so too, if he did. I really had no objection to going to
West Point, except that I had a very exalted idea of the acquire-
ments necessary to get through. I did not believe I possessed
them, and could not bear the idea of failing.
## p. 6605 (#599) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6605
GRANT'S COURTSHIP
From Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. ' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant,
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
AⓇ
T WEST POINT I had a classmate,- in the last year of our
studies he was room-mate also,-F. T. Dent, whose family
resided some five miles west of Jefferson Barracks. Two
of his unmarried brothers were living at home at that time, and
as I had taken with me from Ohio my horse, saddle, and bridle,
I soon found my way out to White Haven, the name of the
Dent estate. As I found the family congenial, my visits became
frequent. There were at home, besides the young men, two
daughters, one a school-miss of fifteen, the other a girl of eight
or nine.
There was still an older daughter of seventeen, who
had been spending several years at a boarding-school in St. Louis,
but who, though through school, had not yet returned home.
She was spending the winter in the city with connections, the
family of Colonel John O'Fallon, well known in St. Louis. In
February she returned to her country home. After that I do
not know but my visits became more frequent: they certainly
did become more enjoyable. We would often take walks, or go
on horseback to visit the neighbors, until I became quite well
acquainted in that vicinity. Sometimes one of the brothers
would accompany us, sometimes one of the younger sisters. If
the 4th Infantry had remained at Jefferson Barracks it is possible,
even probable, that this life might have continued for some years
without my finding out that there was anything serious the mat-
ter with me; but in the following May a circumstance occurred
which developed my sentiment so palpably that there was no
mistaking it.
The annexation of Texas was at this time the subject of vio-
lent discussion in Congress, in the press, and by individuals. The
administration of President Tyler, then in power, was making the
most strenuous efforts to effect the annexation, which was indeed
the great and absorbing question of the day. During these dis-
cussions the greater part of the single rifle regiment in the army
the 2d Dragoons, which had been dismounted a year or two
before, and designated "Dismounted Rifles "- was stationed at
Fort Jessup, Louisiana, some twenty-five miles east of the Texas
line, to observe the frontier. About the first of May the 3d
Infantry was ordered from Jefferson Barracks to Louisiana, to go
## p. 6606 (#600) ###########################################
6606
ULYSSES S. GRANT
ents.
into camp in the neighborhood of Fort Jessup, and there await
further orders. The troops were embarked on steamers, and were
on their way down the Mississippi within a few days after the
receipt of this order. About the time they started I obtained a
leave of absence for twenty days to go to Ohio to visit my par-
I was obliged to go to St. Louis to take a steamer for
Louisville or Cincinnati, or the first steamer going up the Ohio
River to any point. Before I left St. Louis, orders were received
at Jefferson Barracks for the 4th Infantry to follow the 3d. A
messenger was sent after me to stop my leaving; but before
he could reach me I was off, totally ignorant of these events. A
day or two after my arrival at Bethel I received a letter from
a classmate and fellow lieutenant in the 4th, informing me of
the circumstances related above, and advising me not to open
any letter postmarked St. Louis or Jefferson Barracks until the
expiration of my leave, and saying that he would pack up my
things and take them along for me. His advice was not neces-
sary, for no other letter was sent to me. I now discovered that
I was exceedingly anxious to get back to Jefferson Barracks, and
I understood the reason without explanation from any one. My
leave of absence required me to report for duty at Jefferson Bar-
racks at the end of twenty days. I knew my regiment had gone
up the Red River, but I was not disposed to break the letter of
my leave; besides, if I had proceeded to Louisiana direct, I could
not have reached there until after the expiration of my leave.
Accordingly, at the end of the twenty days I reported for duty
to Lieutenant Ewell, commanding at Jefferson Barracks, handing
him at the same time my leave of absence. After noticing the
phraseology of the order-leaves of absence were generally
worded, "at the end of which time he will report for duty with
his proper command" — he said he would give me an order to
join my regiment in Louisiana. I then asked for a few days'
leave before starting, which he readily granted. This was the
same Ewell who acquired considerable reputation as a Confederate
general during the Rebellion. He was a man much esteemed,
and deservedly so, in the old army, and proved himself a gallant
and efficient officer in two wars-both in my estimation unholy.
started for the country,
There is an insignificant
Barracks and the place
I immediately procured a horse and
taking no baggage with me, of course.
creek, the Gravois, between Jefferson
to which I was going, and at that day there was not a bridge
## p. 6607 (#601) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6607
over it from its source to its mouth. There is not water enough
in the creek at ordinary stages to run a coffee-mill, and at low
water there is none running whatever. On this occasion it had
been raining heavily, and when the creek was reached I found
the banks full to overflowing, and the current rapid. I looked at
it a moment to consider what to do. One of my superstitions
had always been when I started to go anywhere, or do anything,
not to turn back or stop until the thing intended was accom-
plished. I have frequently started to go to places where I had
never been and to which I did not know the way, depending
upon making inquiries on the road, and if I got past the place
without knowing it, instead of turning back, I would go on until
a road was found turning in the right direction, take that, and
come in by the other side. So I struck into the stream, and in
an instant the horse was swimming and I being carried down by
the current. I headed the horse towards the other bank and soon
reached it, wet through and without other clothes on that side of
the stream. I went on, however, to my destination and borrowed
a dry suit from my (future) brother-in-law. We were not of
the same size, but the clothes answered every purpose until I got
more of my own.
Before I returned I mustered up courage to make known, in
the most awkward manner imaginable, the discovery I had made
on learning that the 4th Infantry had been ordered away from
Jefferson Barracks. The young lady afterwards admitted that
she too, although until then she had never looked upon me other
than as a visitor whose company was agreeable to her, had expe-
rienced a depression of spirits she could not account for when
the regiment left. Before separating, it was definitely understood
that at a convenient time we would join our fortunes, and not
let the removal of a regiment trouble us. This was in May 1844.
It was the 22d of August, 1848, before the fulfillment of this
agreement. My duties kept me on the frontier of Louisiana with
the Army of Observation during the pendency of Annexation;
and afterwards I was absent through the war with Mexico pro-
voked by the action of the army, if not by the annexation itself. .
During that time there was a constant correspondence between
Miss Dent and myself, but we only met once in the period of
four years and three months. In May 1845 I procured a leave
for twenty days, visited St. Louis, and obtained the consent of
the parents for the union, which had not been asked for before.
## p. 6608 (#602) ###########################################
6608
ULYSSES S. GRANT
A TEXAN EXPERIENCE
From Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant. ' Copyright by Ulysses S. Grant.
and reprinted by permission of the family of General Grant
I
HAD never been a sportsman in my life; had scarcely ever
gone in search of game, and rarely seen any when looking
for it. On this trip there was no minute of time while
traveling between San Patricio and the settlements on the San
Antonio River, from San Antonio to Austin, and again from the
Colorado River back to San Patricio, when deer or antelope
could not be seen in great numbers. Each officer carried a shot-
gun, and every evening after going into camp, some would go
out and soon return with venison and wild turkeys enough for
the entire camp.
I however never went out, and had no occas-
ion to fire my gun; except, being detained over a day at Goliad,
Benjamin and I concluded to go down to the creek - which was
fringed with timber, much of it the pecan—and bring back a
few turkeys. We had scarcely reached the edge of the timber
when I heard the flutter of wings overhead, and in an instant I
saw two or three turkeys flying away. These were soon followed
by more, then more and more, until a flock of twenty or thirty
had left from just over my head. All this time I stood watch-
ing the turkeys to see where they flew, with my gun on my
shoulder, and never once thought of leveling it at the birds.
When I had time to reflect upon the matter, I came to the con-
clusion that as a sportsman I was a failure, and went back to
the house. Benjamin remained out, and got as many turkeys as
he wanted to carry back.
After the second night at Goliad, Benjamin and I started to
make the remainder of the journey alone. We reached Corpus
Christi just in time to avoid "absence without leave. " We met
no one, not even an Indian, during the remainder of our jour-
ney, except at San Patricio. A new settlement had been started
there in our absence of three weeks, induced possibly by the
fact that there were houses already built, while the proximity
of troops gave protection against the Indians. On the evening
of the first day out from Goliad we heard the most unearthly
howling of wolves, directly in our front. The prairie grass was
tall and we could not see the beasts, but the sound indicated
that they were near. To my ear it appeared that there must
have been enough of them to devour our party, horses and all,
## p. 6609 (#603) ###########################################
ULYSSES S. GRANT
6609
at a single meal. The part of Ohio that I hailed from was not
thickly settled, but wolves had been driven out long before I
left. Benjamin was from Indiana, still less populated, where the
wolf yet roamed over the prairies. He understood the nature of
the animal, and the capacity of a few to make believe there was
an unlimited number of them. He kept on towards the noise,
unmoved. I followed in his trail, lacking moral courage to turn
back and join our sick companion. I have no doubt that if Ben-
jamin had proposed returning to Goliad, I would not only have
"seconded the motion," but have suggested that it was very
hard-hearted in us to leave Augur sick there in the first place;
but Benjamin did not propose turning back. When he did speak
it was to ask, «< Grant, how many wolves do you think there are
in that pack? " Knowing where he was from, and suspecting
that he thought I would overestimate the number, I determined
to show my acquaintance with the animal by putting the esti-
mate below what possibly could be correct, and answered, "Oh,
about twenty," very indifferently. He smiled and rode on. In
a minute we were close upon them, and before they saw us.
There were just two of them. Seated upon their haunches, with
their mouths close together, they had made all the noise we had.
