Grant Fumbles

Ulysses S. Grant

 

 Fate has a way of picking unlikely material,

Greasy-haired second lieutenants of French artillery,

And bald-headed, dubious, Roman rake-politicians.

Her stiff hands were busy now with an odd piece of wood,

Sometime Westpointer, by accident more than choice,

Sometime brevet-captain in the old Fourth Infantry,

Mentioned in Mexican orders for gallant service

And, six years later, forced to resign from the

Army Without enough money to pay for a stateroom home.

Stephen Vincent Benet, John Brown’s Body

 

One hundred and fifty years ago the campaigning season in the bloodiest year of the Civil War was about to begin, and plans were being completed for what both sides hoped would be a decisive year.  A moment of comedy before the grim business gets underway.  Sherman in his memoirs recalled an incident on March 18, 1864 when Grant was presented a sword by the mayor of his hometown of Galena, Illinois:

 

 

On the 18th of March I had issued orders assuming command of the Military Division of the Mississippi, and was seated in the office, when the general came in and said they were about to present him a sword, inviting me to come and see the ceremony. I went back into what was the dining-room of the house; on the table lay a rose-wood box, containing a sword, sash, spurs, etc., and round about the table were grouped Mrs. Grant, Nelly, and one or two of the boys. I was introduced to a large, corpulent gentleman, as the mayor, and another citizen, who had come down from Galena to make this presentation of a sword to their fellow-townsman. I think that Rawlins, Bowers, Badeau, and one or more of General Grant’s personal staff, were present. The mayor rose and in the most dignified way read a finished speech to General Grant, who stood, as usual, very awkwardly; and the mayor closed his speech by handing him the resolutions of the City Council engrossed on parchment, with a broad ribbon and large seal attached. After the mayor had fulfilled his office so well, General Grant said: “Mr. Mayor, as I knew that this ceremony was to occur, and as I am not used to speaking, I have written something in reply.” He then began to fumble in his pockets, first his breast-coat pocket, then his pants, vest; etc., and after considerable delay he pulled out a crumpled piece of common yellow cartridge-paper, which he handed to the mayor. His whole manner was awkward in the extreme, yet perfectly characteristic, and in strong contrast with the elegant parchment and speech of the mayor. When read, however, the substance of his answer was most excellent, short, concise, and, if it had been delivered by word of mouth, would have been all that the occasion required.

I could not help laughing at a scene so characteristic of the man who then stood prominent before the country; and to whom all had turned as the only one qualified to guide the nation in a war that had become painfully critical.

Grant was perfectly suited for War and completely ill-suited for politics, which this little vignette foreshadowed.

5 Responses to Grant Fumbles

  • “Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.” Twelfth Night, Shakespeare

  • From destitute seller of firewood on the streets of St. Louis in 1860 to President-Elect in 1868.

    Grant’s story had to be true, because no fiction writer would dare have set pen to paper with the plot of his life.

  • I have often thought the same Dale! Grant was such an unlikely figure that no novelist could have done him justice except God!

  • Grant’s personal integrity was exemplified during the period after he had been disgracefully cashiered from the Army, when he was making a living by cutting firewood. He inherited a slave from his father-in-law’s estate. Grant could have sold the slave and relieved himself of financial and social burdens. Instead, Grant freed the slave, even incurring personal expense for the fees associated with doing so.

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