Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant, Complete
better opportunity of enjoying the fine scenery of Western Pennsylvania,
and I had rather a dread of reaching my destination at all. At that
time the canal was much patronized by travellers, and, with the
comfortable packets of the period, no mode of conveyance could be more
pleasant, when time was not an object. From Harrisburg to Philadelphia
there was a railroad, the first I had ever seen, except the one on which
I had just crossed the summit of the Alleghany Mountains, and over which
canal boats were transported. In travelling by the road from
Harrisburg, I thought the perfection of rapid transit had been reached.
We travelled at least eighteen miles an hour, when at full speed, and
made the whole distance averaging probably as much as twelve miles an
hour. This seemed like annihilating space. I stopped five days in
Philadelphia, saw about every street in the city, attended the theatre,
visited Girard College (which was then in course of construction), and
got reprimanded from home afterwards, for dallying by the way so long.
My sojourn in New York was shorter, but long enough to enable me to see
the city very well. I reported at West Point on the 30th or 31st of
May, and about two weeks later passed my examination for admission,
without difficulty, very much to my surprise.
A military life had no charms for me, and I had not the faintest idea of
staying in the army even if I should be graduated, which I did not
expect. The encampment which preceded the commencement of academic
studies was very wearisome and uninteresting. When the 28th of August
came--the date for breaking up camp and going into barracks--I felt as
though I had been at West Point always, and that if I staid to
graduation, I would have to remain always. I did not take hold of my
studies with avidity, in fact I rarely ever read over a lesson the
second time during my entire cadetship. I could not sit in my room
doing nothing. There is a fine library connected with the Academy from
which cadets can get books to read in their quarters. I devoted more
time to these, than to books relating to the course of studies. Much of
the time, I am sorry to say, was devoted to novels, but not those of a
trashy sort. I read all of Bulwer's then published, Cooper's,
Marryat's, Scott's, Washington Irving's works, Lever's, and many others
that I do not now remember. Mathematics was very easy to me, so that
when January came, I passed the examination, taking a good standing in
that branch. In French, the only other study at that time in the first
year's course, my standing was very low. In fact, if the class had been
turned the other end foremost I should have been near head. I never
succeeded in getting squarely at either end of my class, in any one
study, during the four years. I came near it in French, artillery,
infantry and cavalry tactics, and conduct.
Early in the session of the Congress which met in December, 1839, a bill
was discussed abolishing the Military Academy. I saw in this an
honorable way to obtain a discharge, and read the debates with much
interest, but with impatience at the delay in taking action, for I was
selfish enough to favor the bill. It never passed, and a year later,
although the time hung drearily with me, I would have been sorry to have
seen it succeed. My idea then was to get through the course, secure a
detail for a few years as assistant professor of mathematics at the
Academy, and afterwards obtain a permanent position as professor in some
respectable college; but circumstances always did shape my course
different from my plans.
At the end of two years the class received the usual furlough, extending
from the close of the June examination to the 28th of August. This I
enjoyed beyond any other period of my life. My father had sold out his
business in Georgetown--where my youth had been spent, and to which my
day-dreams carried me back as my future home, if I should ever be able
to retire on a competency. He had moved to Bethel, only twelve miles
away, in the adjoining county of Clermont, and had bought a young horse
that had never been in harness, for my special use under the saddle
during my furlough. Most of my time was spent among my old
school-mates--these ten weeks were shorter than one week at West Point.
Persons acquainted with the Academy know that the corps of cadets is
divided into four companies for the purpose of military exercises.
These companies are officered from the cadets, the superintendent and
commandant selecting the officers for their military bearing and
qualifications. The adjutant, quartermaster, four captains and twelve
lieutenants are taken from the first, or Senior class; the sergeants
from the second, or junior class; and the corporals from the third, or
Sophomore class. I had not been "called out" as a corporal, but when I
returned from furlough I found myself the last but one--about my
standing in all the tactics--of eighteen sergeants. The promotion was
too much for me. That year my standing in the class--as shown by the
number of demerits of the year--was about the same as it was among the
sergeants, and I was dropped, and served the fourth year as a private.
During my first year's encampment General Scott visited West Point, and
reviewed the cadets. With his commanding figure, his quite colossal
size and showy uniform, I thought him the finest specimen of manhood my
eyes had ever beheld, and the most to be envied. I could never resemble
him in appearance, but I believe I did have a presentiment for a moment
that some day I should occupy his place on review--although I had no
intention then of remaining in the army. My experience in a horse-trade
ten years before, and the ridicule it caused me, were too fresh in my
mind for me to communicate this presentiment to even my most intimate
chum. The next summer Martin Van Buren, then President of the United
States, visited West Point and reviewed the cadets; he did not impress
me with the awe which Scott had inspired. In fact I regarded General
Scott and Captain C. F. Smith, the Commandant of Cadets, as the two men
most to be envied in the nation. I retained a high regard for both up
to the day of their death.
The last two years wore away more rapidly than the first two, but they
still seemed about five times as long as Ohio years, to me. At last all
the examinations were passed, and the members of the class were called
upon to record their choice of arms of service and regiments. I was
anxious to enter the cavalry, or dragoons as they were then called, but
there was only one regiment of dragoons in the Army at that time, and
attached to that, besides the full complement of officers, there were at
least four brevet second lieutenants. I recorded therefore my first
choice, dragoons; second, 4th infantry; and got the latter. Again there
was a furlough--or, more properly speaking, leave of absence for the
class were now commissioned officers--this time to the end of September.
Again I went to Ohio to spend my vacation among my old school-mates; and
again I found a fine saddle horse purchased for my special use, besides
a horse and buggy that I could drive--but I was not in a physical
condition to enjoy myself quite as well as on the former occasion. For
six months before graduation I had had a desperate cough ("Tyler's grip"
it was called), and I was very much reduced, weighing but one hundred
and seventeen pounds, just my weight at entrance, though I had grown six
inches in stature in the mean time. There was consumption in my
father's family, two of his brothers having died of that disease, which
made my symptoms more alarming. The brother and sister next younger
than myself died, during the rebellion, of the same disease, and I
seemed the most promising subject for it of the three in 1843.
Having made alternate choice of two different arms of service with
different uniforms, I could not get a uniform suit until notified of my
assignment. I left my measurement with a tailor, with directions not to
make the uniform until I notified him whether it was to be for infantry
or dragoons. Notice did not reach me for several weeks, and then it
took at least a week to get the letter of instructions to the tailor and
two more to make the clothes and have them sent to me. This was a time
of great suspense. I was impatient to get on my uniform and see how it
looked, and probably wanted my old school-mates, particularly the girls,
to see me in it.
The conceit was knocked out of me by two little circumstances that
happened soon after the arrival of the clothes, which gave me a distaste
for military uniform that I never recovered from. Soon after the
arrival of the suit I donned it, and put off for Cincinnati on
horseback. While I was riding along a street of that city, imagining
that every one was looking at me, with a feeling akin to mine when I
first saw General Scott, a little urchin, bareheaded, footed, with dirty
and ragged pants held up by bare a single gallows--that's what
suspenders were called then--and a shirt that had not seen a wash-tub
for weeks, turned to me and cried: "Soldier! will you work? No,
sir--ee; I'll sell my shirt first!!" The horse trade and its dire
consequences were recalled to mind.
The other circumstance occurred at home. Opposite our house in Bethel
stood the old stage tavern where "man and beast" found accommodation,
The stable-man was rather dissipated, but possessed of some humor. On
my return I found him parading the streets, and attending in the stable,
barefooted, but in a pair of sky-blue nankeen pantaloons--just the color
of my uniform trousers--with a strip of white cotton sheeting sewed down
the outside seams in imitation of mine. The joke was a huge one in the
mind of many of the people, and was much enjoyed by them; but I did not
appreciate it so highly.
During the remainder of my leave of absence, my time was spent in
visiting friends in Georgetown and Cincinnati, and occasionally other
towns in that part of the State.
CHAPTER III.
ARMY LIFE--CAUSES OF THE MEXICAN WAR--CAMP SALUBRITY.
On the 30th of September I reported for duty at Jefferson Barracks, St.
Louis, with the 4th United States infantry. It was the largest military
post in the country at that time, being garrisoned by sixteen companies
of infantry, eight of the 3d regiment, the remainder of the 4th.
Colonel Steven Kearney, one of the ablest officers of the day, commanded
the post, and under him discipline was kept at a high standard, but
without vexatious rules or regulations. Every drill and roll-call had
to be attended, but in the intervals officers were permitted to enjoy
themselves, leaving the garrison, and going where they pleased, without
making written application to state where they were going for how long,
etc., so that they were back for their next duty. It did seem to me, in
my early army days, that too many of the older officers, when they came
to command posts, made it a study to think what orders they could
publish to annoy their subordinates and render them uncomfortable. I
noticed, however, a few years later, when the Mexican war broke out,
that most of this class of officers discovered they were possessed of
disabilities which entirely incapacitated them for active field service.
They had the moral courage to proclaim it, too. They were right; but
they did not always give their disease the right name.
At West Point I had a class-mate--in the last year of our studies he was
room-mate also--F. T. Dent, whose family resided some five miles west of
Jefferson Barracks. Two of his unmarried brothers were living at home
at that time, and as I had taken with me from Ohio, my horse, saddle and