James Ford Rhodes (1848–1927). History of the Civil War, 1861–1865 1917.
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murmuring voice; few grudged him his success. His modest and unaffected bearing commanded respect for his character as his great deeds had won admiration for his military genius. It is striking to contrast this almost universal applause of Grant with the abuse of Lincoln by the Democrats, the sharp criticism of him by some of the radical Republicans and by others the damning him with faint praise.
Grant had the charm of simplicity of character and in common with Lincoln felt that he was one of the plain people and wished to keep in touch with them. But this merit in him was carried to excess. Too often was he unwilling to keep himself to himself—too often ready to lend his time in undesirable quarters—too often lacking the dignity and reserve reasonably to be expected of the commander of those half million soldiers to whom the nation looked for its salvation. Shortly before he began his May campaign, Richard H. Dana saw him in Willard’s Hotel, Washington, and described him as “a short, round-shouldered man in a very tarnished major-general’s uniform”; “nothing marked in his appearance”—“an ordinary scrubby-looking man with a slightly seedy look.” Dana expressed his astonishment “to see him talking and smoking in the lower entry of Willard’s, in that crowd, in such times—the generalissimo of our armies, on whom the destiny of the empire seemed to hang. But” he went on, “his face looks firm and hard, and his eye is clear and resolute, and he is certainly natural, and clear of all appearance of self-consciousness.” Impressed with Grant’s supremacy and his hold on the country, he broke out, “How war, how all great crises, bring us to the one-man power.”1
