A perfect memorial for an imperfect man, Ulysses S. Grant

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The statue of Ulysses S. Grant in front of the Capitol might just be the greatest equestrian statue on Earth. It is perfect: From any angle, in any light, under any weather, the monument conjures its subject’s humanity.

Grant and his horse, Cincinnati, have come to a stop. A cold wind blows the horse’s tail back underneath it. Grant holds the reins lightly in his lap with his left hand. His head is angled down so the brim of his hat can block a western sun. He scans the enemy and weighs his men. His right arm is bent, and his hand rests on his hip like that of a mother lecturing a child. Really, though, the arm seems to be propping him up, as if otherwise the weight of the moment might cause him to falter.

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The Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument are iconic, but while their grandeur preserves their namesakes’ legacies, it also distances us from the men, as though Lincoln and Washington were gods atop Mount Olympus. In contrast, stand close enough to Grant’s statue and you can see the steam rise from Cincinnati’s twitching flanks and smell a cocktail of cigar and sweat.

If the Capitol is the people’s house, then Grant is that house’s sentry. His statue is the centerpiece of a larger memorial located in front of the Capitol Reflecting Pool. To the north and south of Grant, a battle rages within sculptures titled “Cavalry Charge” and “Artillery.” It would be hard to exaggerate the terror captured in these works. On one side, men charge and a horse is cut down by enemy fire, its rider thrown forward to certain death. On the other side, soldiers and draft animals strain to drag artillery to within range of the fight. In the center of this fog: Grant.

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On some of my visits, Grant is looking down on one of the thousands of dead littering the field after his disastrous assault at Cold Harbor. Other times, he appears on the cusp of deliverance, about to dismount to meet Robert E. Lee, only to pause first as he considers the sacrifices required to get to that point. During every visit, I see the anguish of war, the fortitude of purpose and Grant’s enduring humanity.

What does it say about the man that he faced fear, failure and victory with seemingly equal temperaments? It shows he was a leader with courage, but not bluster, a leader of conviction, but not folly, of mercy, not revenge; a leader who asked for no more than he was willing to give.

What does it say about our nation that we chose to fete our most glorious warrior, a man who defeated a rebellion and took the first steps toward a reconciliation, with such a modest pose? It shows that we believe in duty and honor but understand that those qualities flow from competence and humility. It shows we recognize that occasionally we will fail, but that so long as we own that failure and learn from it, sacrifice and grief are not in vain. This is what it means to be perfect.

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