Ulysses S. Grant has been the subject of scores of biographies, but his character has long remained elusive to historians. Even Grant’s closest friends found him hard to figure. General William T. Sherman noted that, despite having known Grant for decades, “to me he is a mystery, and I believe he is a mystery to himself.” Now, with unprecedented access to Grant’s collected works, Ronald C. White, Jr. has gotten closer to explaining the nature of the man who saved the Union.
American Ulysses: A Life of Ulysses S. Grant, released Tuesday, offers a novel interpretation of Grant, with White’s greatest departure from existing scholarship being his focus on Grant’s religion and marriage. Both of these, in White’s convincing analysis, explain more about Grant than earlier biographers realized.
In religious matters, Grant kept his own counsel. He took after a devout mother who discouraged pride and boasting. Grant’s father, a successful tanner, was the gregarious type associated with the American West. The personality clash between father and son meant that, unlike his brothers, Grant did not join in the family business, instead attending West Point.
Grant’s humility has often led biographers to underplay his intellectual achievements, and here White’s use of Grant’s letters tells us more of his inner life. Far from the plodding dullard, Grant is fascinated with art and literature, and he excelled at mathematics and horsemanship. White attributes his mediocre academic standing to difficulty with French, not a general lack of ability.
After graduation, Grant courted Julia Dent, the sister of a West Point classmate. Literature and horses formed some of the couple’s shared interests. Their wedding was delayed by the outbreak of war with Mexico. Using Grant’s letters home to Julia, White reveals Grant’s feelings and opinions, at which earlier biographers could only hint.
Grant joined the fight whenever he was able, showing courage and initiative in the march on Mexico City. The peacetime army suited him less well. Soon after marrying, the Grants were separated by his posting to a remote fort on the west coast. The exact details of his service there are unclear, but Grant resigned his commission, allegedly getting out ahead of a court martial for drunkenness.
The next seven years saw Grant undertake a number of peacetime careers, all without success. With the outbreak of Civil War in 1861, he returned to his old profession. In the process, he found a calling to which he was uniquely suited. Early victories thrilled a nation desperate for battlefield success. Another followed at Shiloh, although the massive casualties led to accusations that Grant was reckless. Abraham Lincoln disagreed, and rejected calls to dismiss him, saying “I can’t spare this man; he fights.”
Lincoln’s trust was well-placed. Grant next led a brilliant campaign to take Vicksburg, the last rebel stronghold on the Mississippi. Given command over the western armies, he broke a stalemate at Chattanooga to open the Confederate interior to Union forces. Grant moved east to campaign against Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia, a task that had frustrated Union generals since the war began. His strategy, once maligned as mere butchery, has been reevaluated since the 1960s and White continues the trend. Grant had the numerical advantage against Lee, but so did all of his predecessors; the difference was his understanding of the need to take the fight to Lee even in the face of shocking casualties. Merely by existing, Lee’s army gave hope to the Confederacy. Grant made its destruction, rather than conquering Richmond, his goal. With this critical insight, he led the Union to victory.
White focuses more on the war years than on Grant’s presidency but still gives readers the flavor of the White House years. Grant entered office as a non-partisan figure—vaguely Republican, but more admired for his war record than his politics. Attempting to govern that way, he alienated supporters without winning over adversaries. Expanded bureaucracy combined with the growing economy to produce an administration that regulated, and was corrupted by, more money than any of its predecessors.
In the army, Grant trusted subordinates, and most did not disappoint. Politicians were a different animal. Increased vigilance and partisanship failed to completely protect him from accusations of corruption. Liberal Republicans bolted the party in 1872, but they were too few to throw the election to the Democrats. In 1877, Grant left office still respected but under the cloud of corrupt associates.
A two-year voyage around the world fascinated the public and helped them remember what they loved about Grant, but not enough for him to win a half-hearted attempt at renomination in 1880. Instead, he again attempted success in the business world, and again found himself destitute. Diagnosed with cancer, Grant spent his final days completing a book that would, when published after his death, become the touchstone for presidential memoirs.
In death, Grant began to earn the respect as a thinker that his humility and his enemies’ derision denied him in life. White reminds that his subject’s brilliance was not confined to the battlefield and presents a balanced, informative look at one of American history’s most impenetrable figures.
Kyle Sammin is a lawyer and writer from Pennsylvania.
