Our Standard-Bearer; Or, The Life of General Uysses S. Grant

by Oliver Optic

Rosecrans permitted his men, weary after their two days' hard fight, to rest till the next morning, when he started to obey Grant's order. Then he mistook his road, marched eight miles in the wrong direction, but he corrected his error, and marched towards the Hatchie. He was behind time, having disregarded the order of Grant to march the day before, arriving at the bridge, where the rebels had crossed, just as the rear-guard was going over. Had he obeyed his orders, he would have fallen on Van Dorn's rear, while his front was engaged with Ord; and nothing could have saved the rebel army from total destruction. Grant decided that the favorable moment had passed, and he ordered Rosecrans back to his post.

These movements relieved West Tennessee from any further peril at the present time. The rebels had been whipped at Iuka, at Corinth, and at the Hatchie. All these movements and all these victories were achieved under the direction of Grant. The success of these operations was gratifying, though not all it would have been if the general had selected his own subordinates, as he did subsequently in a wider sphere. If Grant had any fault as a soldier in the field, it was the result of the amiability of his character, which prompted him to save the feelings of others, even at the expense of his own reputation. He was not always obeyed, because he was not a stormy and demonstrative man, because he did not bluster and put on airs. There was nothing personally imposing or grand in him, and the officers of the army estimated him too low—so low that some of them evaded his orders.

But Grant could be terribly severe, terribly just, when the emergencies of the service demanded, when his devotion to the glorious cause he had espoused required it. During his brief sojourn in Memphis, which was the very hotbed of treason and treachery, he breathed the spirit of loyalty to the government into the souls of the rebels, who did not scruple to carry on war by divers underhand methods within the still hostile city. No letters not examined by the provost marshal could be carried out of town without subjecting the offender to arrest. Arms and ammunition were prohibited from being taken out of the city, or carried within it, on severe penalty. As these orders failed to suppress the illicit traffic with foes outside of the lines, all passes were refused, except to such as took the oath of allegiance, or parole. As Confederate officers and soldiers found opportunities to communicate with their families in Memphis, thereby obtaining important military information, the families of all such were banished beyond the lines. This order included the connections of other specified persons in the Confederate government, and there was not much room left for rebel sympathizers to operate.

As a check upon guerrillas, who were doing much mischief, Grant authorized reprisals upon the personal property of those in the vicinity who were in sympathy with the rebellion, to an extent sufficient to remunerate the government for all losses by their depredations. A bitter partisan organ, the Memphis Avalanche, which published incendiary and treasonable articles, was promptly suppressed. He took possession of unoccupied premises belonging to persons absent and in arms against the government, rented them, and paid the proceeds into the treasury of the United States. For the benefit of the fugitive negroes, who crowded into his lines, he issued humane and just orders, particularly defining the manner in which they should be employed and paid. Persons from the South who were willing to bluster, but not to fight, for the Confederacy, and hastened to Memphis to escape the remorseless rebel conscription, were made liable to draft.

In dealing with the troops under his own command, Grant was just and humane; but "bumming" and marauding on private account were prohibited. When the soldiers, in some instances, disobeyed the strict orders on this subject, the value of property taken or destroyed by them was charged to the account of their regiment, and deducted from their pay, if the offenders could not be discovered.

In dealing with civil affairs, in the multitudinous details which come within the scope of a department commander, he displayed a decided talent and ability to adjust the most difficult matters. He always knew where he was, and what to do. For every difficulty he had a remedy; for every infraction of law or discipline he had a check. In the management of the trying affairs of a military district, which has so frequently proved to be the severest demand upon the wisdom, skill, and patience of the soldier holding it under martial law, he displayed the highest order of ability. His judgment, tact, and discretion would have been more than creditable in one who had spent a lifetime in the study and practice of the principles of political economy, or who had served a long apprenticeship as a magistrate. Without being a politician, he was a statesman.

But Grant had hardly made his mark yet, and, except as the hero of Donelson and Shiloh, he was scarcely known to the country, before which he was soon to stand as the foremost man of his time. I watched Grant at Memphis, I watched him at Corinth and at Jackson, as he controlled the difficult details of his department, kept the rebel civilians in subjection, and directed his forces to certain conquest, and I would rather have been Ulysses S. Grant than my illustrious ancestor Sir Bernard Galligasken, whose knightly prowess and whose glittering title had early tickled my imagination. Even then I loved the man, and almost adored him, as I realized that a brilliant destiny was in store for him.

As far back as May, 1862, when McClellan had only proved that he was great as the organizer of an army,—and it must be conceded that he has not since proved any more than this,—my excellent friend Mr. Washburne, in his noble speech in Congress, deemed it expedient to use these remarkable words: "Let no gentleman have any fears of General Grant. He is no candidate for the presidency." Surely with only the lustre of Donelson and Shiloh reflected upon him, he never thought of aspiring to that magnificent position. Why was it necessary, when the illustrious soldier had only taken a couple of steps towards fame, to make this astounding declaration? Was it seen even then that he was a probable or a possible candidate in the future? The noble-minded and patriotic representative made this declaration to save Grant from the persecution of the wire-pullers, whose friends, the possible candidates, would be damaged by the appearance of a new aspirant, who, with a fitness for the office, added thereto the merit of availability. It was well for the politicians to take the bull by the horns, but they might as well attempt to nullify the laws of nature as to defeat the will of the people.

Grant had then no thought of being president. His modesty, if nothing else, would have forbidden the aspiration. He was a pure patriot then, as he is now; and the only consideration with him was to suppress the rebellion. He never "pulled the wires," even for a brigadier's commission, which was not above the ambition of thousands of fourth-rate politicians. He was ready to serve the country in any capacity, obeyed his orders, and quietly submitted to disgrace and insult for the good of the cause. The people are not blind. They see and know their man.