Ulysses S. Grant has become one of the historical figures I appreciate more the more I learn about him. Before the Civil War, there was little reason to think he would become one of the most consequential Americans of his generation. He struggled financially, failed as a farmer, and eventually worked in his family’s leather business. He was not born into great wealth or political influence, and he did not spend his life trying to become an important man.
Then his country needed him.
Grant returned to military service and gradually rose from an obscure officer to commander of the Union armies. His path was not easy. He faced criticism, suffered setbacks, and endured enormous casualties. But he kept going. His strength was not that he never failed; it was that failure did not convince him to quit.
That quality is what interests me most about Grant. He seemed less concerned with appearing important than with doing the work in front of him. He was quiet and reserved, not the sort of personality who needed to constantly remind people of his importance. His reputation came from what he did rather than what he said about himself.
That humility did not mean weakness. At Appomattox, Grant defeated Robert E. Lee but treated his defeated opponent with restraint. He understood that winning the war was not simply about defeating an army. The country would eventually have to live together again.
As president, Grant’s administration had serious failures, particularly the corruption surrounding some of his associates. His political judgment was not always as strong as his military judgment. Yet his presidency also included significant efforts to protect the civil and political rights of Black Americans during Reconstruction. Grant used federal authority against the Ku Klux Klan and supported enforcement of the constitutional amendments created after the Civil War.
Grant’s final years may reveal his character better than his victories. After leaving the presidency, he suffered financial ruin and was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He began writing his memoirs because he wanted to leave his family financially secure. Mark Twain would eventually help publish the work, but Grant had to write it himself while his health was rapidly failing. He continued working through severe pain because he knew his wife and children needed the income the book could provide.
There was no office left to win and no military victory left to achieve. He was dying, and he knew it. Yet he kept writing. He completed the manuscript only days before his death. The book eventually became one of the most respected American military memoirs, but that was not why Grant sat down to write it. He was trying to take care of his family.
By then, Grant had already been a general and president. He had nothing left to prove in terms of importance. Yet he still had a duty to fulfill.
That is the lesson I take from Grant.
We can become too concerned with whether our lives are important. We compare ourselves with people who are more successful, more talented, wealthier, or more recognized. But importance is ultimately something other people give us. Duty is something we choose.
Most of us will never command an army or become president. Our responsibilities will usually be much more ordinary: our families, our work, our communities, our promises, and the people who depend upon us. But the principle is the same. We do not need to know that our work will be remembered before we decide that it is worth doing.
Grant’s life reminds me that a man does not have to spend his life trying to become important. He can simply become the kind of man who can be counted on when something needs to be done.
Duty over importance.