Julia Dent Grant
by
Patricia Daniels
Oral Presentation to the United Daughters
of the Confederacy -- Lee County, FL
Chapter
December 2025
Editor’s note: Ms. Daniels never
intended to have her written remarks for her oral presentation published.
Written for ease of delivery in the role of Mrs. Grant, I was never-the-less
able to convince her that Civil War enthusiasts would enjoy learning about her
research as much as the members of the group she delivered her remarks to. I am
indebted to her generosity and willingness to share them with so many others.
-- Jack Bovee
My
goodness! I am so delighted that so many
of you are here to hear about my beloved husband, Ulysses S. Grant! (Ulys was his mother’s first born. It would be six weeks before she named Hiram
Ulysses Grant, ‘Ulysses’ from the sly fox of Homer’s poem. Thomas L. Hamer was the Ohio congressman who would
give Ulys an appointment to West Point. Hamer wrote the War Department to
inform him of his choice but accidently named him Ulysses Simpson, using
his mother’s maiden name, Grant which was fine with Ulys. At West Point he was known as ‘Sam’.)
I am Julia
Dent Grant. I was born near St. Louis on
my father’s 850-acre farm situated along the Gravois Creek. It was the showplace of the county.
I was the
fifth of eight children and the first girl.
My father, the Colonel, felt I could do no wrong. My childhood was a “long summer of sunshine,
flowers and smiles.” As were my sisters,
I was given three servants of my own when I was born, and they served me well
for many years. Our ‘people’ were very
happy, at least in Mamma’s time, though the young ones became somewhat
demoralized about the beginning of the Rebellion when all the comforts of
slavery passed away forever.
Neither my
mamma nor my papa ever chided me as a child.
I was happy, and I could do no wrong.
I was in
school in St. Louis when Ulys began his weekly calls to White Haven at the
invitation of my oldest brother. My
younger sister, Emily, was the first to fall in love with him, and she followed
him around like a puppy whenever he came to visit with the other soldiers from
the barracks. When Ulys and I met, his
weekly visits became daily.
My oldest
brother, Fred, had been a roommate of Ulys’ at West Point. Ulys was 16 when he matriculated---at his
father’s insistence---but was not particularly interested in academics, other
than mathematics, or his military appearance.
He had always been his happiest with horses, and was an exceptional and
fearless rider. He spent his time with the horses at the academy, and one of
his jumping records was not broken for more than twenty-five years! Upon his graduation he had hoped to be
assigned to the cavalry, but it was not to be.
At that time, the best students were assigned to the engineering corps,
and the cavalry was the next most desirable assignment. However, Ulys was assigned to the infantry
and then stationed at Jefferson Barracks, the largest military base in the
country at that time which was not far from our home.
My family
was socially prominent and most hospitable to the soldiers who were frequent to
White Haven on Sunday afternoons. My
brother Fred had encouraged Ulys to visit as well, and though shy, Ulys did so. When I arrived home from St. Louis and met
him for the first time I thought he was the nicest and most handsome young man
I had ever met. We enjoyed each other
from the first and found common grounds in riding together in the early spring,
fishing, and drawing botanicals together.
I was delighted to learn that Ulys enjoyed romantic novels, as did I, and
had read many while at West Point. Some
said later that his ability to write clear orders for his armies’ officers and
even his own memoirs were a result of all his novel reading.
I was 18 at
the time and he was 21. My father
thought I was much too young for marriage, and he wanted more for me than to be
the wife of a soldier.
There was a
great deal of concern in the political climate of the day, and when Ulys
learned his unit was to be relocated first to Louisiana and then to Texas which
had just been annexed into the United States. He decided it was time to ask the
Colonel for my hand in marriage.
It had been
exceptionally rainy that spring and the creek was overflowing and treacherous
when Ulys attempted to cross it. He swam
his horse through the flooded waters and arrived at the piazza soaked
through. Mother found him some dry
clothes, and we all waited together inside for the outcome of the
proposal. “No,” announced the
Colonel. “If you wanted to marry Nellie,
that would be fine, but not Julia”. Ulys
stood firm though and said, “Only Julia.”
Papa finally
agreed to allow us to write to each other while Ulys was gone. Later I asked Ulys why he had forded the
creek under such conditions. He replied,
“It is a superstition of mine that when I start a task, I see that it is
finished before turning back.” I often
thought of that remark during the Rebellion that was yet to come and especially
during the Overland Campaign in the East.
Ulys wrote
often in the four years he was gone. He
never approved of the war with Mexico though he served with many of the
officers in the war that he would meet again during the War Between the States. There were always two wars he felt should
never have been fought. He always felt
the United States was wrong to invade a country so much smaller and so poorly
equipped as was Mexico, and he always felt the issue of slavery could have been
resolved without war.
Ulys
remained devoted and loyal during his absence and wrote frequently of his love
for me, often, he said, on drums captured from the enemy. I, on the other hand,
was not as faithful a correspondent, and he was disappointed in that. I did and still do have an eye condition
known as strabismus that makes it difficult for me to read or write for long
periods. (The condition could have been
corrected later, but Ulys said “No.” He
said he fell in love with me the way I looked then and did not want that to change.)
After the
defeat of Mexico and Ulys’ return, my father finally consented to our
marriage. I will always remember fondly
that hot, rainy evening in August of 1848.
It was of necessity a simple wedding.
We were married in my parent’s temporary townhouse in St. Louis, filled
with candlelight and the fragrance of my favorite flowers, jessamine. My dress, a gift of a dear friend was a
beautiful white silk and a veil of beautiful white tulle with flowers in my
hair. Mrs. Judge Shurls presented me
with a lovely corsage bouquet of white cape jessamine and a few more to fasten
to my veil.
Papa’s
hospitality provided a table at the end of the back parlor upon which were
served ices, fruits and all that good taste could provide for the occasion. Three of the officers at my wedding that
evening would later surrender to Ulys at Appomattox Court House including my
cousin Pete Longstreet--who was Ulys’ best man. (Lt. Cadmus Wilcox and Bernard
Pratte were two of his groomsmen.)
Ulysses’ parents would not attend.
(They were strict abolitionists and disapproved of the marriage.)
The day
following our wedding we set out to visit relatives and friends in Ohio. It was
my first visit away from St. Louis and my first trip on a boat. With Ulys it was like a dream to me and
always pleasant. I do not remember a
single other passenger on that trip!
Ulys’ first
assignments were to Detroit and Sackett’s Harbor in New York. Though my father wanted me to remain at White
Haven I was determined to be with Ulys.
When Ulys was appointed quartermaster and sent to the Pacific Coast, I was pregnant with our second child
and did return to White Haven. (Ulysses
Grant, Jr. would be born in Ohio at Ulys’ parents’ home and would be called
“Buck” by all but me in honor of his birthplace, the Buckeye State.)
Buck would
be two when his father who had never seen him finally returned from the
West. Ulysses had been lonely and had had
several business setbacks while there.
He was finally forced to resign from the army or face a
court-martial. It was his friend, Simon
Bolivar Buckner, from West Point and the Mexican War who would loan him the money
to return to White Haven.
Following
several unsuccessful business ventures in St. Louis, Ulys approached his father
for a position in his leather goods store in Galena, Illinois. We arrived in April of 1860 by riverboat and
rented a small and comfortable home on High Street. There were now four children. The favorite, Jesse, named for Ulys’ father
played happily with his father each evening, (When Ulys returned home Jesse
would greet him at the door with, “You wanna fight Mister?” The two of them
would then tumble happily together on the floor. Ulys loved all his children deeply.) We joined the Methodist Church on Bench
Street. Though Ulys did not care for the
work in the store on Main Street he now could afford to feed and clothe his
family. He was always “very kind to me
when I was childish and unreasonable.”
My servants helped me with the cooking, the children and housekeeping. I was happy in Galena.
When Ft.
Sumter fell to the Confederates, Galena held a meeting. Ulys decided to go, and he never stepped foot
inside the leather goods store again. He
offered his services to the army but was ignored by George McClellan who was in
charge of the Ohio command and refused to see him. The Illinois’ governor offered him the
opportunity to train the unruly Illinois 21st Volunteer Infantry in
Springfield, which he did. He then made
the volunteers march all the way to Alton to join other volunteer groups rather
than allow them to ride there by train.
Ulys was ordered to Missouri and then on to Cairo.
The two most
important men in my life were Ulys and my father. My father was an avid supporter of the South
just as Ulys was an avid supporter of the North. I was torn by my love of both, but eventually
did what many women of the day did in choosing sides. My country was my husband’s country! Many of my childhood friends were most
surprised at my choice, and my father, though he would later live with us in
the White House, considered Ulys a traitor.
I joined
Ulys in Cairo with the children and was so proud of him when Ft. Donalson
fell. It was the first victory of the
Rebellion for the North. Ulys offered
Simon Bolivar Buckner, his friend from West Point and the friend who loaned him
money to get home from New York after Ulys resigned from the army, “No terms
but immediate and unconditional surrender…” earning him the name “Unconditional
Surrender Grant.”
Following
the victories of Forts Henry and Donelson came the bloody battles of
Shiloh/Pittsburgh Landing, Vicksburg, known at the Gibraltar of the
Confederacy, and then Chattanooga. I
stood with Ulys on the deck of his boat and held his hand as Admiral Porter’s
transports slid by the Confederate guns at Vicksburg at night. I stayed with him as often as I could
throughout the war. The officers were
pleased when I was in camp. Ulys was at
his best when I was near. Young Fred,
Ulysses, Jr, Jesse, and Nellie were often with me as well.
Many did not
realize Ulys suffered from severe migraine headaches during the war. I would nurse him through these difficult
periods with mustard plasters and footbaths, though the morning of his meeting
with General Robert E. Lee at Appomattox Court House he would be suffering from
one of the debilitating headaches, and I would not be there.
When
President Lincoln had called Ulys to Washington to make him Commander of Chief
of all the Union Armies, our son Fred accompanied him. Ulys had plenty of political and military
enemies, but the President was confident he had found his general. “I can’t spare this man,” he had said. “He fights.”
(Grant and Fred checked into the Willard Hotel. Grant, clothed in a nondescript battle worn
coat, was unrecognizable and was told only a small upper story room was
available. After Grant signed the
registration the hotel clerk was stunned and immediately found an elegant suite
for him and Fred. That evening they were
immediately recognized and received high praise by those in in the hotel dining
room who did know who they were.)
By the
spring of 1864, Ulys had told the President that he would command the armies
from the field rather than from Washington, and he appointed our dear friend,
Cump Serman, to command the army in the West.
Together they would win the war.
Ulys’ war strategy, he would tell me, was “exhaustion and
annihilation.” He knew he could replace
men and supplies while General Lee could not.
Throughout
the winter of 1864-65 and the spring of 1865, I stayed with Ulys at City Point,
Virgina, then the busiest port in the world, bringing supplies to our
troops. When Lee’s starving troops
finally tried to break out of the winter siege at Petersburg, I knew
Confederate defeat was near. By
telegraph Ulys informed me of Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Court House and
said he’d return late that evening, Mrs. Rawlins and I prepared a celebration
dinner for Ulys and his staff officers, but when they still hadn’t arrived by 2
A.M. we went to our cabins. When Ulys
did arrive, he bounded up the stairs to my cabin to see me first. We had a wonderful breakfast the next morning
with all who were there, and we all listened to General Sheridan’s troops
across the river as they raised shouts of jubilation and victory.
While I had
been most anxious to see the defeated capital of the Confederacy and did so,
Ulys was not, and he never did step foot inside the vanquished city. Almost immediately we left for Washington to
share in the celebrations there. When
the President invited us to accompany him and Mrs. Lincoln to Ford’s theater
Ulys had as good as accepted. Mrs.
Lincoln did not like Ulys and referred to him as a “Butcher.”
I had no
desire to spend another ghastly evening with Mrs. Lincoln and told Ulys I was
anxious to reunite with the children. In
any case, I told Ulys that I refused to go and that we must leave Washington city
that night. Embarrassed, the General had
to offer our regrets to the President. I
have always thought since then if we had attended the theater that night, I
might very well have lost my beloved husband as well.
Ulys was
elected twice to the presidency of the United States, and I do think those were
the happiest years of my life. I wept
when he told me he had posted a letter that he would not seek a third term. With a sense of direction Ulys used money he
had made from investing in a Colorado silver mine to tour the world for two and
a half years. Ulys was probably the most
admired man on earth.
Returning to
live in New York City, Ulys invested his savings in an investment firm, Grant
and Ward. Mr. Ward, however, used ours
and other war veterans’ investments to embellish his own lifestyle in what
would later become known as a Ponzi scheme.
We were left penniless. Ulys had
even borrowed money from William Vanderbilt which was also lost. In return Ulys gave him many of his most
valuable war and travel mementoes with a promise to repay every cent
borrowed. It was a very low time in our
life.
Mark Twain
was aware of Ulys’ circumstances and after reading several of his war articles
for Century Magazine convinced a reluctant Ulys to publish his own
memoirs. Ulys had no choice. He had his family’s support to consider. Though suffering he worked faithfully on the
manuscript and died of throat cancer only a few days after he had finished it
in July of 1885. The book was sold by
subscription. It would earn more than
$450,000 in royalties which would save the family from its bankruptcy and allow
us to live a worry-free and
comfortable existence. (This amount
would be approximately $13-$14 million dollars today. Mark Twain would almost later die penniless.) The memoir’s is said to be the best piece of
nonfiction writing and the most popular book other than the Bible ever
published in the United States. (It is
still in print today.)
“Today I
reside with my son Fred and his family in New York City. I spend my days remembering my wonderful life
and my beloved husband, our pleasant evenings together reading by the fire, our
travels, our families and most of all hoping for the deepest feeling of my and
America’s most successful general. “Let
us have peace,” he said. Ulys’ memoirs
and the victory he won are his greatest and most lasting legacy.”
“For nearly thirty-seven years, I his wife, rested and was warmed in the sunlight of his loyal and great fame, and now, even though his beautiful life has gone out, it is as when some far-off planet disappears from the heavens; the light of his glorious fame still reaches out to me, falls upon me, and warms me.”
THANK YOU.
_______________________
(As the
first First Lady, Julia began the tradition of extravagant state dinners. She was also the first First Lady to write
her memoir, though it was not published until 1975.)
