This Week in History: President Grant’s memoirs
- ANTONE PIERUCCI
- Posted On
“‘Man proposes and God disposes.’ There are but few important events in the affairs of men brought about by their own choice.”
So begins the personal memoirs of an American president. The short preface of this two-volume magnum opus is alone worth reading.
In two paragraphs, the author speaks unabashedly about the circumstances that led to his writing an autobiography.
He never intended to write anything for publication, let alone a memoir, but, as he says in the opening line, “Man proposes and God disposes.” Circumstances determined that he should write after all.
Born Hiram Ulysses Grant on April, 27, 1822, in Point Pleasant, Ohio, he was the son of a businessman and tanner – a life path he never wanted for himself.
As a young man, Hiram took more after his reserved mother than his gregarious father, and by the time he turned 17 he didn’t seem to have amounted to much.
Recognizing that his son never intended to continue in the family tanning business, Hiram’s father arranged for his boy to enter West Point and pursue a military career instead.
A clerical error in his entry papers listed his name as Ulysses S. Grant. Not wanting to be turned down for any reason, Hiram changed his name on the spot.
He continued his unremarkable path through life at West Point, making average grades and receiving several demerits for slovenly dress – a habit he never quite kicked.
He enjoyed mathematics and geometry, and showed a knack for horsemanship, but that was all. By the time he graduated (21st in his class of 39 cadets), Ulysses vowed to leave the military after his mandatory four year service.
During his first posting, in St. Louis Missouri, he met the woman who would become his wife. At the outbreak of the Mexican-American War, he was made a quartermaster, a position that gave him the opportunity to learn the difficult art of military logistics – a skill that would come in handy in future campaigns.
Over the next several years, he was stationed at different camps on the west coast, postings that kept him from his wife and growing family. Desiring to be nearer his family, the young captain tried his hand at several business ventures to make enough money to send for them.
Whatever talents he might have had as a military officer, Ulysses S. Grant was absolutely helpless when it came to making money. Frustrated, he began drinking heavily – kicking off a reputation that dogged him the rest of his career.
Finally, in 1854, while stationed at Fort Humboldt on the California coast, he had a run-in with his commanding officer and, amid allegations of drunkenness, he resigned his commission, having stayed in the army nearly six years longer than the four years he had vowed to see through.
The next six years saw the retired captain start and fail at several ventures – from a farm in rural Missouri to a real estate scheme in St. Louis. He was eventually forced to sell firewood on the streets to make ends meet. Finally, in 1860, he humbled himself and went to work at his father’s tannery, serving as a clerk under his two younger brothers.
He was ultimately saved from this ignominious life when the Confederate States opened fire on Fort Sumter in 1861. With the help of a local congressman, Ulysses was able to get a commission leading the 21st Illinois Volunteer Regiment, and he entered the fray as a lowly captain. He would leave the war as a lieutenant general.
His time as lieutenant general and commander of the Union armies left Grant with a mixed reputation. For some, he was considered a “butcher,” for his seemingly blithe willingness to expend the lives of his soldiers in the effort to break apart General Lee’s army. For others, he was the savior of the Union.
Regardless of what some thought of him, enough Americans believed in his capabilities that he was elected president of the United States in 1868, beginning the first of his two terms in office.
Eventually, however, his public service came to an end, and in 1877, President Grant found himself simply Ulysses Grant once more.
Although General Grant had always known what he was doing, and President Grant was able to plug along with the aid of advisers, civilian Ulysses S. Grant was always somewhat clueless and completely luckless.
The same lack of business sense that had led him back to his father’s business, now led the former president down the path of one failed business venture after another. In no time at all, he was penniless.
In 1884, after complaining of a sore throat to a doctor, Ulysses S. Grant was diagnosed with terminal throat cancer.
When it became known that he was not only completely broke but dying as well, his friend Mark Twain offered him a deal. If Grant would write them, Twain would publish his memoirs. Getting down to business, Ulysses S. Grant wrote six or more hours each day for months on end.
Finally, on July 18, 1885, his manuscript was complete. Five days later, on July 23, Ulysses S. Grant died.
Writing his memoirs proved to be the only successful financial venture he experienced in his life – and he wasn’t even around to reap the rewards. Grant’s widow received $450,000 in royalties, or roughly $10 million today.
In the end, the frankness and unadorned prose of his memoirs stand as a testament to a life lived equally straightforward and unprepossessing.
Antone Pierucci is curator of history at the Riverside County Park and Open Space District and a freelance writer whose work has been featured in such magazines as Archaeology and Wild West as well as regional California newspapers.