Personal Memoirs of General U.S. Grant, vol 1 | Page 9

always a Democrat in politics, and Chilton
followed his father. He had two older brothers--all three being

school-mates of mine at their father's school--who did not go the same
way. The second brother died before the rebellion began; he was a
Whig, and afterwards a Republican. His oldest brother was a
Republican and brave soldier during the rebellion. Chilton is reported
as having told of an earlier horse-trade of mine. As he told the story,
there was a Mr. Ralston living within a few miles of the village, who
owned a colt which I very much wanted. My father had offered twenty
dollars for it, but Ralston wanted twenty-five. I was so anxious to have
the colt, that after the owner left, I begged to be allowed to take him at
the price demanded. My father yielded, but said twenty dollars was all
the horse was worth, and told me to offer that price; if it was not
accepted I was to offer twenty-two and a half, and if that would not get
him, to give the twenty-five. I at once mounted a horse and went for the
colt. When I got to Mr. Ralston's house, I said to him: "Papa says I may
offer you twenty dollars for the colt, but if you won't take that, I am to
offer twenty-two and a half, and if you won't take that, to give you
twenty-five." It would not require a Connecticut man to guess the price
finally agreed upon. This story is nearly true. I certainly showed very
plainly that I had come for the colt and meant to have him. I could not
have been over eight years old at the time. This transaction caused me
great heart-burning. The story got out among the boys of the village,
and it was a long time before I heard the last of it. Boys enjoy the
misery of their companions, at least village boys in that day did, and in
later life I have found that all adults are not free from the peculiarity. I
kept the horse until he was four years old, when he went blind, and I
sold him for twenty dollars. When I went to Maysville to school, in
1836, at the age of fourteen, I recognized my colt as one of the blind
horses working on the tread-wheel of the ferry-boat.
I have describes enough of my early life to give an impression of the
whole. I did not like to work; but I did as much of it, while young, as
grown men can be hired to do in these days, and attended school at the
same time. I had as many privileges as any boy in the village, and
probably more than most of them. I have no recollection of ever having
been punished at home, either by scolding or by the rod. But at school
the case was different. The rod was freely used there, and I was not
exempt from its influence. I can see John D. White--the school

teacher--now, with his long beech switch always in his hand. It was not
always the same one, either. Switches were brought in bundles, from a
beech wood near the school house, by the boys for whose benefit they
were intended. Often a whole bundle would be used up in a single day.
I never had any hard feelings against my teacher, either while attending
the school, or in later years when reflecting upon my experience. Mr.
White was a kindhearted man, and was much respected by the
community in which he lived. He only followed the universal custom
of the period, and that under which he had received his own education.

CHAPTER II.
WEST POINT--GRADUATION.
In the winter of 1838-9 I was attending school at Ripley, only ten miles
distant from Georgetown, but spent the Christmas holidays at home.
During this vacation my father received a letter from the Honorable
Thomas Morris, then United States Senator from Ohio. When he read it
he said to me, Ulysses, I believe you are going to receive the
appointment." "What appointment?" I inquired. To West Point; I have
applied for it." "But I won't go," I said. He said he thought I would,
AND I THOUGHT SO TOO, IF HE DID. I really had no objection to
going to West Point, except that I had a very exalted idea of the
acquirements necessary to get through. I did not believe I possessed
them, and could not bear the idea of failing. There had been four boys
from our village, or its immediate neighborhood, who had been
graduated from West Point, and never a failure of any one appointed
from Georgetown, except in the case of the one whose place I was to
take. He was the son