Mark Perry and Grant and Twain and grant and ward and bankruptcy and may 4, 1884

In Grant and Twain: The Story of a Friendship that Changed America (Random House, 2004), Mark Perry has given us a significant interpretation of the friendship and mutual dependency of the eighteenth President and America's greatest humorist that developed especially during the final year of Grant's life (Grant died on 7/23/1885 at age 63). I will get to the thesis of the book in a later essay, but the first two essays will only point out mistakes in the writing and/or editing of the first 50 or so pages of the book that caused more than inconvenience for me as I read. I used to think that all people are as sensitive to all things biographical and chronological as I am, but it simply is not true. My criticisms of Harvard Business School Professor Walter Friedman's historical gaffes (here), shows that most people, even those considered very smart in our culture, often leave gaping holes and significant inconsistencies in what they write. The sole purpose of this and the next essay, then, is to point out mistakes. If you don't like to read about mistakes, or don't think that significant people make historical errors, then ignore these essays.

Getting our Bearings

The current fashion in writing biographies or monographs where one or two individuals play an important role is to begin them with an electrifying or engaging story. I generally support this convention. It draw in the reader and gives us a ring-side seat on what the author considers a defining moment in the subject's life. In this case Perry begins with Monday, May 5, 1884. It was on this day that the Wall Street Firm of Grant & Ward (the Grant was actually US Grant's son Buck (Ulysses S. Grant, Jr.), but many investors may not have known that) was unable to draw on any bank and had to declare bankruptcy. US Grant lost most if not all of his $750,000 that had rapidly accumulated over the previous three years. It may have been on that day, as Perry surmises, that Grant decided finally to write his memoirs. As early as 1881 Twain had approached Grant with that proposal, but the self-effacing General had declined, believing that he had nothing to say that hadn't already been said by more eloquent writers. But now, with financial ruin facing him and his wife (not to mention the hundreds of enraged investors who had invested on the prestige of the General's name), Grant may have decided to swallow his pride and put pen to paper. It was only four weeks later, in his summer "cottage" (about 19 rooms) in Long Branch, NJ, that he felt a searing pain in his throat when eating a peach--a harbinger of the cancer of the throat that would kill him 13 1/2 months after that.

So now that we have established the basic starting point of the book, we are ready for the mistakes. And Perry kindly obliges us with many. I will list them here, and end with one imprecise statement, which is made more maddeningly imprecise because it shows historians' (in general) inability to deal with complex financial dealings.

1. We are told that Benjamin Ward (the savvy financial partner) arrived at Grant's home on Sunday, May 4, 1884 to announce that Grant & Ward was healthy, but Marine Bank, where their cash reserves were held, was not. Grant was urged to get a check for $150,000 to save the firm. On Monday, May 5, Grant delivered the check to Ward, and the crisis seemed to pass. But then in the afternoon Grant learned that $150,000 was not enough to save the firm. That evening Grant's son Buck went unannounced with an attorney friend to visit Ward at his home. Ward put them off five hours but finally saw them just after midnight. He tried to be reassuring, but was unsuccessful. On Tuesday, May 6 Buck wrote a check for $400,000 as a reimbursement to his father-in-law for investing in the firm, but no bank would honor the check. The firm was bankrupt. Then, apparently, Ward disappeared. Ok. A nice chronology is established, and we are following along well. Then, on p. xxix, Perry says, "We cannot know for certain when the former general and president began to rethink his position on writing his memoirs, but it would not be surprising if the thought first occurred to him on the morning of May 5, 1884, when his son told him that they were bankrupt and that the man who had swindled them was nowhere to be found." But, if his account of a few pages previously is to be believed, it was on May 6 that Ward disappeared. He received Buck and friend on the night of the 5th, and was at the bank that day. So, which is it, Mark?

2. In the chronology, p. xxxv, Grant was said to be born on April 22, 1822. Good. An important fact. Then, on p. 3, just a few pages later, Perry says that Grant was born on April 27, 1822. I suppose it could have been one of those very long births, but I don't think this is what Perry has in mind.

3. In the same chronology we learn that Grant graduated from the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1843 as 21st in a class of 39. Ok, not that impressive, but seemingly reflective also of the reality of Harry Truman's and Colin Powell's lives that great leaders are often those who were "C" students. But then, on p. 11, we are told that Grant's class consisted of 77. Now, it is perfectly understandable that there was a 50% attrition rate over the years, but if so, you would have expected an author concerned about precision to tell us that this was what was happening. Indeed, a good historian might even have a footnote at this point to tell us something about attrition rates at West Point in the 1840s or thereabouts. Not a whisper from Perry, however.

On the next page he says something that might not be strictly wrong but is jarring nevertheless. He says, "As a result of his strong academic performance, Grant could now and then take some time to reflect on his surroundings and the history that filled the Hudson Valley..." (p. 12). STRONG? Well, Perry tells us that Grant finished his first year near the bottom of his class, so the most he could mean is that Grant's improved performance was notable in his subsequent years.

Well, I am out of space, here, and I need another essay. For those who say that getting the facts straight isn't that important--for what we are after is simply the "interpretation" or the "meaning" of things, I would say, "Sure, I guess you're right." Let's turn now to more mistakes.

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