Historical Indulgences

ca. 1864, [Portrait of Lt. General Ulysses S. Grant], Matthew Brady

via the Cartographic Associates

ca. 1864, [half stereocard of a despondent looking General Ulysses S. Grant]

via Ebay

ca. 1870-80, [Portrait of Ulysses S. Grant], Matthew Brady

via the Library of Congress, Brady-Handy Photograph Collection

Today I’ll be celebrating the 189th birthday of the occasionally revered, the presidentially infamous, the often misunderstood Ulysses S. Grant. Although there’s seemingly no particular, exceptional or scholarly reason to be enamored by the gentleman, I find myself fascinated regardless. Our American historical tradition celebrates the natural leader, the one who catapults himself to the top through hard work from the bottom of the barrel. We perpetuate the rags to riches story as the traditional mold of our heroes, and applaud the outspoken men who defy convention.  However, it was the case that Ulysses S. Grant was the antithesis to these expectations.

Possibly, what makes Ulysses S. Grant so special is his uniquely unspecial characteristics. There’s an honesty, an apprehension, a modesty, a humanity to Grant that is so dang relatable among all the overblown, monumental figures in history that it’s hard not to empathize with the gentleman. The seeming paradox surrounding his leadership during the Civil War and lack thereof during his presidential term represents our misreading of him.

As an unexceptional student at West Point with crippling shyness and an apprehension towards command, Grant hardly seemed destined for greatness. A phobic aversion to blood, coupled with his uneasiness in donning military attire, and even in meeting people on mounted horse, seemed to rule the man out of military command. In addition, a somewhat recent study by Duke University’s Jonathan R. Davidson makes a claim of a “social phobia” diagnosis on Grant, definitely adding to the list of unsuitable characteristics for an army commander or President. Yet there he is, celebrated in history texts and lectures, gracing page upon page of military strategy and Civil War books. —and maybe his appointments, elections and all this attention would surprise him, as well.

In his memoirs, Grant writes that “there are many men who would have done better than I did under the circumstances in which I found myself. If I had never held command; if I had fallen, there were 10,000 behind who would have followed the contest to the end and never surrendered the Union.” Some would argue he’s simply putting on a modest air, however, I would contest that he truly felt particularly humbled by his appointment as Commander of the Union Army. After many unsuccessful appointments before him as commander of the Potomac and of the Union army, Grant simply saw success the same way Lincoln envisioned it, and didn’t believe his follow through made him particularly special. I would have argue to against Grant’s assumption in believing anyone could take command-as his swift attacks, continued pursuits and adroit maneuvering shortened, if not ended, the war.

But what matters is how he felt, and it seems he felt he was filling in where people failed before him, and was simply performing his expected duties. “Unconditional Surrender” Grant believed he was acting on behalf of the Union’s indisputably indissoluble nature, which therefore called for the practical “unconditional” engagement. Thus, when called out for his fantastic leadership, he didn’t fully agree with the sentiments. Like successful artists and musicians who secretly believe they’re frauds, or respected historians who feel they have no authority in their area of study, Grant was humbled by success and praise he felt he did not deserve. This, I feel, everyone can relate to. An uneasy acceptance of who you are and what you represent in the world is something everyone experiences, but it’s certainly not often you find a historical figure who grapples so hard in the same manner.

We can never be certain of all the factors that led to Ulysses S. Grant’s Presidential campaign, but assuredly the President Johnson fiasco had something to do with it. Grant’s campaign of “peace” may have been fueled by his seeming ability to be a bipartisan appeasement to Johnson and Congress with his appointment as Secretary of War replacing Stanton. He wouldn’t make a political enemy of Johnson, but also continued to provide a safe future for the new Reconstruction plan. In addition, similarly to how he filled the Army of Potomac command after a string of obvious mistakes, Grant felt it was a simple duty to restore order to the country and the command.

However, as president, he floundered in fear and vacillation, avoiding radical decision making to avoid confrontation and heat from opponents during a time when the country truly needed “Unconditional Surrender” Grant. I’d like to think it was because he was overly empathetic towards our country’s own precarious, troubled, post-war sentiment, rather than just his shy nature. Although he did destroy the political footing of the KKK in the south for at least some time, he is most known for the corrupt friends he kept in his cabinet. Despite being a well-intentioned, genuinely good, honest guy all around, he was afraid to make enemies, afraid to stand up, and incredibly insecure in his position of authority. Not intending to profit from the laundering, embezzling or any of the other felonies on the laundry list of naughty deeds committed by his crew (Grant would never, ever make a profitable business decision unless someone like Mark Twain helped him out, as it happened later on), Grant represents complacency and fear that plagues even the best of us.

With some prodding towards the end of his life, Grant began writing his memoirs. His family was in debt and cancer gave him a small window of time to finish. Impressed (characteristically) that he even was offered a publishing deal, and eager to settle his debts, he was prepared to sign on the first dotted line he saw. Luckily, Mark Twain steered him in sound business and literary direction, and Grant worked on his memoirs right up until his death.

Overall, celebrating Grant’s birthday is celebrating the complicated every man. Celebrating his birthday is celebrating the good intentions we all have, even if they are thwarted by insecurity. Today reminds us of the fear of being something more than yourself, but still holding the potential to overcome it. It’s remembering the human heroes who maybe aren’t natural born leaders, the ones who might be afraid of blood, or are a little antisocial. Celebrating Grant is celebrating unease, but also triumph. Whether or not he trusted himself, Grant helped save the Union. He performed where people before him failed.

This is why I hope everyone wishes Mr. Grant a happy birthday this year.

“There are many men who would have done better than I did under the circumstances in which I found myself. If I had never held command; if I had fallen, there were 10,000 behind who would have followed the contest to the end and never surrendered the Union.”

-Ulysses S. Grant in his memoirs

ca. 1860-70, [Portrait of U.S. Grant]

via the Library of Congress, Civil War Glass Negatives and Related Prints

ca. 1885, “U.S. Grant writing his memoirs at Mount McGregor, June 27th”, Howe

via the Library of Congress

ca. 1865, signed carte de visite of Ulysses S. Grant

via Heritage Auction Galleries

On April 14, 1865, Ulysses S. Grant and his wife were invited by President Lincoln to attend a Ford’s Theater production. Grant regretfully declined that fateful night and instead took his wife to Philadelphia.

Lincoln had been Grant’s greatest champion, friend, and military adviser. Lincoln had said after Shiloh, “I can’t spare this man. He fights.”

Insulting nicknames of U.S. presidents:

• John Adams: His Rotundity
• Martin Van Buren: Martin Van Ruin
• William Henry Harrison: Granny Harrison
• John Tyler: His Accidency
• James Buchanan: Old Public Functionary
• Ulysses S. Grant: Useless
• Rutherford B. Hayes: His Fraudulency
• Grover Cleveland: The Beast of Buffalo
• Woodrow Wilson: Coiner of Weasel Words
• Warren G. Harding: President Hardly

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