Grant, named Hiram Ulysses at birth (the name change began with an error by the congressman who appointed him to West Point), was descended from Puritans who emigrated to New England in the early 17th century. Although his father was a hardworking, acquisitive tanner, Grant lived a quiet and seemingly lazy childhood. Jesse Root Grant, depairing for his son's future in business, secured an appointment to the U.S. Military Academy for the young man in 1839. At West Point, despite gaining a reputation as an abysmal student, maintained a ranking at the class median. Although poor study habits and a preference to romance novels over tactics held him back, his strength in mathematics and equestrianism were a counter-balance. He graduated in 1843, ranking a respectable 21st of 39 cadets.
Though he preferred cavalry service, Grant made lieutenant in the 4th U.S. Infantry. 4 years after graduation, Grant found himself fighting in Mexico. Though he became convinced politicians provoked the war for territorial gain, Grant admired its military leaders, especially Zachary Taylor and Winfield Scott. Putting misgivings aside, he fought well enough to earn brevets for gallantry at Molino del Rey and Chapultepec.
After the conflict, Grant went on to hold posts in several remote garrisons, including Fort Humboldt, Calif., in 1854. There, without Julia, his wife of six years, and their 2 children (2 more would follow), he turned to alcohol to fight off boredom and loneliness. He would indulge this habit at various later stages in his career. Though his drinking was less frequent than legend has it, he seemed unable to stop without the intervention of family or friends. In July 1854, he resigned his recently received captaincy and returned to his family in Missouri.
There Grant led a hardscrabble existence, eventually reduced to peddling firewood on the streets of St. Louis. Forced to rely on his father's grudging charity, he moved to his parents' home in Galena, Ill., working at a variety of jobs--without success--before being rescued by the Civil War. At first, his efforts to join the volunteer army were snubbed. Finally, thanks to a patronage-minded congressman, Elihu B. Washburne, and to Gov. Richard Yates, Grant became colonel of the 21st Illinois Infantry in June 1861. 2 months later, after shaping a rebellious mob into military form, "Captain Sam" Grant, just months ago the Galena failure, found himself a brigadier general of volunteers.
Grant's first effort in command came during a November offensive against Confederate camps near Belmont, Mo. The attempt began well but ended in near disaster, leading Grant to return to an administrative post until able to recoup lost honor. In Feb. 1862, under remote supervision by Maj. Gen. Henry W. Halleck, ranking commander in the West, he broke the center of the Confederate defensive line in that theater with his capture of Forts Henry and Donelson on the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers. His brilliant turning movement against Donelson and his refusal to accept anything less that unconditional surrender brought him instant, nationwide fame.
The glory seemed transitory, however, as Grant's scattered army was surprised and nearly routed near Pittsburg Landing and Shiloh Church, Tenn. on April 6, 1862, by Confederates under Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston. Grant made amends on the next day by repulsing the enemy, a battle which cost Gen. Johnston his life. But for months public criticism of his military and personal habits left a stain on his career. His reputation suffered even further when his initial attempt to seize the Mississippi River stronghold Vicksburg was frustrated that December by Confederate supply-line raiders.
The turning point of Grant's career came in mid-1863, as his aggressive strategy--characterized by an amphibious movement under the guns at Vicksburg and a swift drive inland, without supplies--combined with hard-hitting tactics to cause the city to fall on July 4, 1863, after a 43-day siege. The Confederacy had been divided. His success came with a promotion to major general in the Regular Army. Four months later, with his mission to East Tennessee resulting in the raising of the siege of Chattanooga and his dramatic victories at Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, Grant became the Union's preeminent warrior. To formalize this distinction, Abraham Lincoln made him general-in-chied, at a revived 3-star rank, the following March. The man who had peddled firewood on the streets of St. Louis just a few years before, was now the ranking general in the U.S. Army.
With mammoth resources allotted him for the 1864 Virginia campaigning, Grant would go into the textbooks as a butcher who slashed and pounded his way to victory, heedless of the cost. This image, however, is false. The multitheater strategy mapped out in the war's final year (including Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman's operations in Georgia, Maj. Gen. Benjamin F. Butler's foray up the James River, and the Shenandoah Valley campaigns of Maj. Gen. Philip H. Sheridan and his predecessors) was aimed at flanking the enemy and reaching his rear, to destroy his communications and subsistence. From the Wilderness to Appomattox--with a single, deadly hold-up at Cold Harbor--Grant sought to outmaneuver rather than outfight Gen. Robert E. Lee. Failing to make headway above Richmond, he bypassed Lee in mid-June with an artful turning movement toward Petersburg. Frustrated there, Grant employed various indirect offensives that lengthened Lee's lines terribly thin, stretching them to the breaking point. Grant, in his most decisive campaign, found success not through brute force but by agility, speed, and craft.
In peace, Grant proved unable to utilize effectively the talents that had made him a warrior equal to George Washington and Winfield Scott. While serving as president of the U.S., 1869-77, he lived by the same simple code of ethics he had employed since youth. His political naivete, elementary view of complex situations, and inability to judge the character of his governmental subordinates left his administration rife with controversy, corruption, and scandal. He glumly returned to private life, traveled the world, briefly and disastrously entered business, and finally, to provide for a near-destitute family, began to write. By taking up the pen he regained the stature he had forfeited in laying down the sword. His Personal Memoirs (1885), which he completed during a painful race with throat cancer--which took his life at Mount McGregor, NY, on July 23, 1885--constitute his greatest monument. His words, like his tactics on the battlefield, display vigor, precision, and an ironic brilliance.