Hoping to learn some lessons from history's greatest conquerors, I wanted to look at some defining, yet common, characteristics that set apart the world's conquerors from the conquered. What I found helped me realize that not much really separates us from them, save for a few important principles.
Most fascinating to me where the stories of Ulysses S. Grant. Diving into his personal history, I am amazed to find that I am impressed with his personal living to the same degree that I am impressed with his historical significance. He seems to me a figure both larger than life, and perfectly plain; as relatable as he is untouchable.
What I find peculiar about the example of Ulysses S. Grant is that he is both an exemplary and cautionary tale of the importance of self-discipline. At his best, Grant is a Union hero whose military distinguishment preserves the Union and fulfills the promise of liberty for all. At his worst, he is a unkempt drunkard barely able to keep his own footing and hold meaningful employment. His story, for me, exemplifies the unique struggle we all have with our personal demons, and demonstrates the heights we can achieve when we can conquer our appetites and our base desires.
From the study of Grant's military conquests, I have identified three distinguishing characteristics that prove effective in the conquest of both the self, and the world. Though these stories show how Grant conquered on the battlefield, there are many examples too how Grant used these tactics to conquer himself as well. As you read through these, consider what you might gain in your personal life by applying these same principles towards your own self-conquest.
1. WIN THE DAY'S FIRST BATTLES
April 6, 1862
"Well, Grant, we've had the devils own day haven't we?"
The hour was approaching midnight when General William Tecumseh Sherman found his friend General Ulysses S. Grant resting beneath a tree. Grant knew that the day had been a disaster. Being so unsettled by the scene of mangled bodies and shredded limbs, Grant opted to spend his night outside.
If Grant was seeking comfort and quiet away from the horrific sounds of the makeshift surgical stations, he likely did not find it beneath the meager shelter of that tree. Torrential rain fell across the miles-long battlefield, and the sound of rain could not mask the groans and lamentations of wounded and dying soldiers. One could not see the suffering soldiers in the pitch black night, but Grant could hear them laying in a field of grotesquely severed limbs and shredded bodies. Gun and cannon fire had ceased for the day, but the awful sounds of war did not stop with the ceasefire. Sobbing, moaning, and grieving; observers like Grant and Sherman could even hear wild hogs snorting and rooting around the piles of soldiers. The desperate screaming suggested that the hogs did not discriminate between living and dead flesh.
"This night of horrors," swore one Confederate soldier, "will haunt me to my grave."
In what must've seemed to Grant a tender mercy, lightning split the night sky, accompanied by a symphony of thunder. For brief terrible moments, the thunder roared loud enough (thankfully) to muffle the noises of death and suffering. Soldiers retired for the night, sleeping in puddles of filth and blood; without shelter and exposed to the hellish elements of the night. It was, indeed, the devil's own day.
To look upon Grant that night, one would not have guessed that the General had endured perhaps the most tarnishing and emotional loss of the Civil War. News of the devastation and bloodshed was bound provoke a negative national sentiment towards Grant, something that the General was already accustomed to. All things considered, Sherman might have expected to see a disheveled, exhausted, and tortured commanding officer.
I like to imagine that Grant was exhausted and worn down. Though highly decorated and well accomplished, Grant could show the faults of his human side. He sometimes lacked confidence and he was known to experience bouts of depression. He abhorred the sight of blood, and the scene at Shiloh far exceeded the boundaries of bloodshed; highlighting a new horrific standard for gore and carnage. For Grant, the mantle of Major General must have felt immensely heavy, and lonely.
However, where one might expect to see a man disheveled and discouraged, Sherman beheld something entirely different in the countenance of his friend Ulysses. Sure, Grant was injured and nursing a broken body, and the toll of the prolonged conflict showed in the Major General's leathered face. But Grant appeared resolute, dogged, and extraordinarily unnerved.
Turning to his friend and comrade, Ulysses took a long drag from his cigar, then agreeing with Sherman's assessment of the days events, Grant replied with his classic stoic tone:
"Yes. Lick 'em tomorrow though."
At 5:00 am the very next morning, Grant set in motion a well orchestrated counterattack. Being on the offensive, pressuring the enemy early and relentlessly characterized General Grants military philosophy. Indeed, Grant was often the first to the field, and the last from the fight. Union troops pushed back the triumphant Confederates, regaining precious (now sacred) ground until the momentum had shifted decisively in favor of the Army of the Tennessee and the Army of the Ohio.
While the Confederates rested on their laurels, Grant could have rested on his griefs, his losses, and his broken body. The first day of Shiloh was a disaster for Grant, and he knew that negative personal consequences were a certainty. Even so, Grant set aside his personal discomfort, overcame his emotional distress, and put himself to getting the job done in the early hours of the day.
On April 7, 1862, long before the first shots were fired, and even hours before the first shots were fired, Grant had won the day's first battles. Everyone remembers the glorious march of victorious troops. Everyone remembers the raucous shouting of the champions. But rarely to we recognize that our public victories are only sustained by gaining ground on the unseen and unsung battlefields in our minds and in our hearts.
In the campaign to conquer one-self, these earliest battles are some of the most important. We must understand, as Grant understood, that to gain the upper hand one has to take the initiative, build momentum, and diligently pursue and build off of early gains. Admittedly, few of us are called upon to stare down an army of 44,699 strong. But like Grant, we too have our early and unsung battles to win:
- Resisting the snooze button
- Making your bed
- Engaging in morning Exercise
- Making time for thoughtful meditation
- Managing a good breakfast
I imagine you laughing at this moment, but as trivial as these battles might seem, they make the all the difference for conquerors. Starting the day in a consistent and repeatable manner will give you the momentum you need to turn the tide and win with greater frequency the public battles you will face.
If you're still laughing, consider (and I mean really consider) just how difficult it is to have this kind of perfect morning. You're tired. You're unmotivated. You're treated unfairly. You're grieving. You're resting on your laurels. Upon hearing that morning alarm, what excuses are you telling yourself? What is your rationale? Whatever, it may be, it cannot be greater than the prospect of losing the war on account of your not engaging on the smaller, yet arguably more significant, battlefield.
I have had my best days, my best months, and my best years when I am willing to fight the day's first battles. This has not been without its challenges. There have been times where I have given up that sacred early morning ground to melancholy, apathy, and ego.
I've plugged my phone in on the opposite side of the room to encourage myself to physically walk out of bed.
I've prepped copious amounts of bacon, eggs, sausage, and cheese to keep on hand a low-carb snack.
I've even resorted to limiting my linens to a single blanket with the aim of simplifying the act of making my bed every morning.
Even so, I struggle daily to embrace the early morning discomfort, and do what it takes to win the day's early battles. And it goes without saying that we won't win those battles every day. We should expect to fall short. But as we strive to conquer ourselves through a disciplined morning routine, we will soon find ourselves more capable, more prepared, and more confident in our attempts to conquer the world.
2. BE DISCIPLINED, NOT MILITANT
May 1, 1863
March 9, 1864
You'd have rarely seen the Major General appear so unnerved, but upon finding himself distanced from the familiarity of the western theater of the war, a visibly uncomfortable and annoyed Ulysses Grant endured what he would later admit was the hottest campaign he had ever fought. He had grown accustomed to the roar of cannons and the whistle of bullets, but Grant would never become accustomed to the sound of applause and praise.
At the insistence of Secretary of State William H. Seward, Grant stood upon a White House sofa that had been temporarily repurposed as an impromptu podium. Americans had heard about the hero of Fort Donelson, Vicksburg, and Chattanooga, but for the crowd of White House visitors, this would be their first view of the gauche and pretense-less commander.
Grant had been called in from the his post in the west, travelling from Nashville to receive his new commission of lieutenant general, assuming command of the entire Union war effort. Soon, Abraham Lincoln would formally place the general at the head of the Army of the Potomac, setting into motion the final phase of the American Civil War.
For Lincoln, selecting Grant for this ultimate post made sense in terms both practical and political. Grant had proven himself the most capable commander among Union leadership. He masterfully besieged the impenetrable garrison at Vicksburg, later breaking the siege at Chattanooga in near hopeless circumstances. Grant had demonstrated prowess without pretention, and ferocity without savagery. Grant understood, as Lincoln liked to put it, "the awful arithmetic". Of the many qualities distinguishing Grant from the cadre of failed commanders in the Union Army, one seemed to really set him apart:
Grant knew his enemy.
In the years preceding Grant, the Union War effort seemed to be characterized by two major conflicts; one with the Confederacy, and the other within the Union ranks itself. Lincoln and the Union endured a carousel of commanders who often showed more hostility and rancor towards each other than towards the Confederacy. George B. McClellan showed an intense dislike of Abraham Lincoln, privately deriding the President and then publicly running against him as a presidential candidate. Henry Halleck replaced McClellan, but this appointment yielded virtually no improvement. Of Halleck, it was said that his primary goals were to [expand] his command and [make] sure no blame of any sort fell on him." General Halleck schemed against the effective and increasingly popular Grant, going so far as to intentionally leave Grant with dilapidated forces and disorderly supply lines. These were men who had shown a fundamental misunderstanding over who the real enemy was, and the Union paid the price in the currency of blood and lives.
In Grant, Lincoln had found a different type of general; one devoid of a squabbling or shifty character. Grant was not Machiavellian in his ambition. He did not wage clandestine campaigns against his contemporaries. He did not gossip about his superiors. In his ascension towards ultimate command, he showed no degree of self-preservation, egotism, nor vanity. Instead, Grant shows a strong sense of duty and a clear understanding of who the enemy really is. Grant expends his energy strategizing against the Confederacy, not scheming against his President or subverting his subordinates. Grant knows who his enemy is, and he wastes no effort in taking the battle to them.
In our conquest of the self, we are the enemy who needs conquering. Though we might find comfort looking outside ourselves to place blame and find fault with others, we are in reality turning our attention away from the actual battlefield, refusing to engage in combat with the single greatest adversary standing between us and success; our own self.
In the context of a military campaign, knowing your enemy provides an overwhelming advantage over the opposition. For this reason, successful commanders invest a great deal of resources into espionage, scouting, and intelligence. Conquerors must know who they are conquering, what motivates them, how strong they are, and where they are going. Without this knowledge, there can be no sound strategy, and without a sound strategy, there can be no clear path to victory.
Socrates explained that "to know thyself is the beginning of all wisdom." Knowing ourselves takes a disciplined effort. It is one thing to ask who you are, why you do certain things, and where you are going, but is is an entirely different thing to sit with your thoughts and listen for the answers. Asking for the sake of asking is nothing more than moping. But to ask and then to listen is the essence of getting to know ourselves. By listening and observing, we will recognize our motivations, our shortcomings, and our weaknesses, thereby granting us critical intelligence we can employ in the campaign against our lesser self.
To label ourselves an enemy of ourselves is a radical and potentially dangerous approach. Doing so might leave the door open for an unhealthy sense of self and a propensity towards self-loathing. Please understand that when I say we are our own worst enemy, I am not recommending that we treat ourselves as we would treat an enemy in the classic sense. We must take care that we do not become so overly zealous in our conquest that we engage in tactics that belittle, debilitate, or render ourselves ineffectual. The only effective campaign against the self is the campaign executed with kindness, benevolence, and respect for the would-be-conquered (ourselves).
Of course, this does not mean that we undertake a campaign of half-assery and apathy. We cannot afford to tip-toe around those internal battles that must be fought and won. We can be empathetic in our intolerance. We can be forgiving in our determination. To find balance between these is to walk an elusive and ambiguous line. However, I can assure you that line can be walked.
The same Ulysses S. Grant who had earned the nickname "Unconditional Surrender Grant" is the same Grant who repeatedly demonstrated how to walk that line between ferocity and benevolence. He demonstrated this enigmatic ability at Appomattox Courthouse when, after negotiating the favorable terms of surrender of General Lee's army, Grant admonished his troops for their celebratory displays:
"The war is over," he explained, "the rebels are our countrymen again."
In Grant-like fashion, we cannot be afraid of fighting the battles that need to be fought. However, we cannot afford to denigrate nor castigate ourselves. A conquered enemy subjected to humiliation and shame is an enemy filled with bitterness and resentment. Yes we must conquer our lesser-self, but then we must look to the future showing gratitude for our victories and appreciation for our growth.
