One

West Point Cadet

 

In January 1857, a letter addressed to George A. Custer, Esq. arrived in the mail at the Emanuel Custer residence in New Rumley, Ohio. This official-looking correspondence, which had been postmarked from the nation’s capital, was known to contain potentially life-changing news that the entire family had been anticipating with some anxiety.

Seventeen-year-old George—known to his family as “Armstrong” or “Autie”—tore open the envelope to remove a form letter written on crisp, white stationery and signed by Secretary of War Jefferson Davis. The boy quickly scanned the words, his fair-skinned face flushing and his mischievous blue eyes lighting on fire.1

Armstrong handed the letter to his father, who, after absorbing each word, in turn gave it to his wife, Maria, who read the message with a sense of sadness. This was the news that Maria had been dreading—not so Armstrong.

The letter informed him that he had been awarded an appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York. There was a good chance that by this time the boy could no longer contain himself and let out a series of joyous whoops. He was a spirited boy who was prone to such displays of enthusiasm.

This coveted appointment, which would take effect in June, had not come without a great measure of surprisingly good fortune—against seemingly insurmountable odds—that has baffled historians to this day.

Young Armstrong had arrived at the conclusion that he would require some sort of assistance in order to further his education at an institution of higher learning. Otherwise, due to the family’s meager finances, he might be relegated to make his way in the world on merely a high school education and whatever skills he could muster on his own. There was a good chance that out of necessity he would be compelled to learn a trade, which was not to the liking of a young man with great dreams and high ambitions.

Armstrong had always been an avid reader of adventure novels and envisioned the glory that might be attained by a military career. On a more practical note, he believed that being a graduate of a prestigious school like West Point would open endless doors of opportunity. So he had made up his mind to shoot for the top. To that end, he wrote to his district’s Republican representative, John A. Bingham, and requested an appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point.2

This audacious act by the son of an outspoken, lifelong Democrat demonstrates the undaunting determination that would be Custer’s lifelong hallmark. The odds that a son of Emanuel Custer, whose politics were the polar opposite to those of Bingham, could gain political patronage from a Republican were astronomical. And Armstrong himself did not help his cause in the least when he participated in a rally for Democratic presidential hopeful James Buchanan and later protested an appearance by Republican John C. Fremont.3

Differing stories have been written about why Armstrong Custer was even considered for this prestigious appointment from a man whose politics were contrary to those of the staunchly Democratic Custer family. Bingham later related—after Custer had become famous—that the “originality and honesty” of the young man’s letter “captivated” him. Others have speculated that the father of a girl—Mary Jane “Mollie” Holland, with whom Custer was romantically involved—pulled strings with the congressman in order to remove Custer from his daughter’s life.4

Regardless, this letter signed by Secretary of War Davis meant that Armstrong could now further his education at an institution where his tuition would be paid. But, alas, his acceptance to the military academy at this point was contingent upon the approval of his close-knit family.

The decision for Armstrong to enter the Academy became a matter of family discussion. Mother Maria, who had hoped that her son might become a minister—an idea likely long forgotten—was strongly opposed to her boy becoming a soldier, especially with rumors that war could be on the horizon. Maria was outvoted by the other family members, and finally acquiesced. Emanuel went to the bank and borrowed against his farm, receiving two hundred dollars to pay for his son’s expenses and admission fee.5

There was one more obstacle between Custer and West Point, however—entrance examinations. And those exams, to which each aspiring cadet was subjected before acceptance, were not merely a formality but a rigorous experience with no mercy shown for those who were not up to standards. The candidates would be tested individually, and it was known that nearly half of them would be rejected for one reason or another.

The entrance examinations for admittance to this class at the Academy were scheduled for June 20, 1857. George Armstrong Custer boarded a train in Scio, Ohio, and arrived at Albany, New York, where he boarded a boat for a trip down the Hudson River to West Point.

The journey downriver by Armstrong was perhaps best described by his future bride, Libbie, when she wrote:

I cannot imagine anything more delightful to a susceptible imaginative temperament than to sail on the Hudson, a beautiful river, and to follow the outlines of the mountains on either side whose reflection was mirrored in the river, thus giving double delight. Such an approach to a spot where four years of one’s life were to be spent filled out a picture to a boy full of romance that lasted until life ended.

The Academy site was so well chosen; all the buildings, the parade and drill ground, the cemetery, the fortifications lie on a level plateau, but at the background rise the soft, lovely hills covered with trees and verdure, forest trees that have been cared for since West Point started with its corps of professors and one pupil. To look daily upon such mountains, to see, from barrack windows, camp, parade, drill ground, the broad blue river in all its moods, the majestic mountains rising before them, was inspiration to those country lads who came from some obscure inland town.6

The history of West Point dates back to the Revolutionary War, when General George Washington regarded the plateau on the west bank of the Hudson River to be the most important strategic location in the country. Washington established his headquarters at West Point in 1779, and directed his Continental soldiers in the building of the fortification and the placement of a 150-ton iron chain that spanned the Hudson above the narrow S curve to control river traffic and prevent British ships from sailing upriver and dividing the colonies. Although West Point commander Benedict Arnold committed his act of treason by trying to sell the post to the British, the fortress was never captured and has been the oldest continuously occupied military station in American history.

In 1802, at the urging of Washington, Alexander Hamilton, and John Adams, President Thomas Jefferson signed legislation that established and funded an institution devoted to the art of warfare and military leadership. It was called the United States Military Academy and would be located at West Point. The level of academics provided to the cadets was equal or superior to the country’s leading colleges and universities—and by teaching subjects about warfare and establishing military discipline and traditions, exceptional officers were trained for the United States Army.7

In the early decades of the young country, it was West Point graduates who designed the majority of America’s bridges, roads, railway lines, canals, river levees, and harbors. In addition to engineering feats, graduates of the Academy participated in the War of 1812—the first conflict that tested the training at West Point—and distinguished themselves in such battles as Crysler’s Farm, Fort Erie, Craney Island, and the defense of Norfolk.8

During June 1857, 108 candidates, including George Armstrong Custer, would be examined for entrance into the United States Military Academy. These young men would be interviewed at Academic Hall by an examining board comprised of about two dozen professors and other interested parties, who stood out in their classy dress-blue army officer uniforms with fringed golden epaulets.

The examination may have seemed more like an inquisition to those whose fate depended on a good showing. One right after another, the young men entered the examining room and later exited wondering if they had passed muster.

Eventually, it was Custer’s turn to step inside the inner sanctum, which he found to be a semicircle of desks with imposing figures seated and standing behind them. Among those present were Superintendent Richard Delafield; Albert Church, the head of mathematics, who was said to have roomed at The Point with Jefferson Davis; and Chaplain John French, professor of geography, history, and ethics.

There can be no question that Custer was to an extent intimidated and had some measure of self-doubt when all eyes focused on him seeking any reason to find fault and dash his dream. But he had not made it through the difficult application process just to be turned away before he had a chance to prove that he could indeed become an army officer. In the end, after the professors had put their heads together and discussed the applicants, George Armstrong Custer was judged to be worthy of his appointment—although he ranked in the bottom ten of those selected.9

On July 1, 1857, Custer and sixty-seven other plebes—also known as “animals,” the lowest form of humanity—out of the original 108 who had been examined, reported for duty as the class of 1862. The blue-eyed boy stood almost six feet tall, weighed about 170 pounds, and was soon good-naturedly nicknamed “Fanny” by his classmates due to his wavy, yellow hair and fair complexion.

The inherent urge of Custer to be the fun-loving prankster was immediately at odds with the strict Academy code of conduct, which was calculated by a system of demerits. Demerits or black marks—called “skins” by the cadets—were awarded for various offenses, such as being late for parade, not keeping eyes to the front, throwing stones on post, not properly carrying a musket during drill, talking after taps, an unshaven face or untrimmed hair, inattention, unkempt quarters, untidy uniform, dirty equipment, failure to salute an officer, altercations or fights with fellow cadets, and many other instances of unacceptable military behavior. One hundred skins in a six-month period would be grounds for dismissal from the Academy.

Custer’s offenses ranged from “boyish conduct” to an unbuttoned coat to improper handing of his musket to inappropriate attire.10 He accumulated seventeen demerits by the time his class broke summer camp at Camp Gaines and moved into the permanent barracks, and he would test the limits of this code before his tour at West Point had been completed.11

Students were organized into sections according to their academic abilities, and Armstrong found himself for the most part among Southerners and Westerners, whose knowledge was regarded as being generally inferior to the New Englanders. He was assigned a tower room in the Eighth Division at Cadet Barracks, a four-story stone building with gothic turrets that overlooked a forty-acre plot of grass located at the center of the Academy grounds that was known as the “Plain.” Each room had a window facing the Plain; was furnished with a fireplace, two beds with thin mattresses, a table with two chairs, clothes press, gun rack, washstand and slop bucket; and was illuminated by an oil lamp.12

Custer’s first roommate was James “Jim” Parker, a rather homely, rough-hewn, plodding sort from Missouri. Other close friends who resided in neighboring rooms were Kentuckians William Dunlop and George Watts, Pierce M. B. Young of Georgia, John “Gimlet” Lea of Mississippi, and Southern sympathizer Lafayette “Lafe” Lane, whose father was an Oregon territorial delegate to Congress.

Custer also befriended a number of upperclassmen, such as Alabaman John Pelham and Texan Thomas Lafayette Rosser from the Class of 1861, and North Carolinian Stephen D. Ramseur, who was a third classman. Other upper classmen with whom Custer’s future would be linked were Judson Kilpatrick, Wesley Merritt, and Alexander Pennington. The tall, bull-strong, swarthy-complexioned Tom Rosser, who roomed next door, could be considered Armstrong Custer’s best friend.13

At the present, these cadets were comrades in arms, sharing the unique adventure that was West Point. In the future, however, each of them would be taking sides with the advent of war, and friendships would be strained if not dissolved. Their geographic differences may not have seemed important now, but those differences in culture and beliefs would eventually come to the forefront as the politics of the outside world escalated beyond reason and called these young men to choose sides.

The rigorous curriculum, which had been expanded to five years, emphasized military courses, such as infantry, artillery, cavalry tactics, military science, gunnery, ordnance, administration, veterinary science, horsemanship, and use of the saber, but did not lack for challenging traditional college-level subjects. Among the courses Custer would be required to master were algebra, geometry, trigonometry, spherical astronomy, English, French, Spanish, chemistry, drawing, electrics, civil engineering, philosophy, geology, mineralogy, history, and ethics. The cadets would also serve as valets for the upperclassmen and were afforded the dubious privilege of blacking boots, hauling water, maintaining uniforms, and other physical tasks—all the while never speaking unless spoken to.14

At the end of his first year, Custer ranked fifty-second in mathematics and fifty-seventh in English in a class of sixty-two—six members had departed either by choice or dismissal. His placement was partially due to the fact that he had accumulated 151 demerits, the highest number in his class. His offenses now included tardiness, inattention, throwing snowballs, visiting after hours, unauthorized card playing, and failure to keep the section at attention during a formation.15

Despite this dismal showing, Custer was not discouraged and wrote to his sister Lydia Ann Reed of Monroe, Michigan, on June 30 saying, “I would not leave this place for any amount of money because I would rather have a good education and no money, than to have a fortune and be ignorant.” With that said, he did have some misgivings about being away from home—his parents’ welfare, “If there is one reason why I wish I were through here it is that I might be of some aid to them.” He did have a personal grievance, however, “I am surprised at Pop not signing my permit to use tobacco. I said distinctly I did not want tobacco for myself, but for my room-mate who smokes, and would give me things I want. Nothing could induce me to use tobacco, either in smoking or chewing. I consider it a filthy, if not an unhealthy practice.”16

Armstrong Custer’s less than glowing academic record was not the result of a lack of intelligence on his part—he likely could have been an honor student. In fact, he regularly checked out literary books from the library that he read for pleasure. He made his way through James Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Tales, and, perhaps in an effort to understand his closest friends, he borrowed Swallow Barn. This novel by John Pendleton Kennedy described Virginia plantation life from the standpoint of a dashing hero named Ned Hazard, who was always followed by a pack of hounds. Incidentally, the slavery described by Kennedy depicted a kindly institution, with blacks as almost comical figures. In addition to being a devoted reader, Custer became a skillful writer, as evidenced especially by his later works.

His downfall in formal education can be attributed to his propensity for pranks and an immaturity and rebelliousness that gave him a devil-may-care attitude. He studied not to excel but only enough to keep from flunking out of school. In addition to receiving a load of demerits, Custer spent time in the guardhouse. Found in his portfolio of sketches saved from West Point was a drawing of the guardhouse with bars at the window and a cadet standing behind them that was labeled G. A. CUSTER’S SUMMER HOME ON THE HUDSON.17

“It was all right with him,” a classmate recalled, “whether he knew his lesson or not: he did not allow it to trouble him.” Fellow cadet Peter Michie wrote, “Custer was always in trouble with the authorities. He had more fun, gave his friends more anxiety, walked more tours of extra guard, and came nearer to being dismissed more often than any other cadet I have ever known.” Tully McCrea reflected that “the great difficulty is that he is too clever for his own good. He is always connected with all the mischief that is going on and never studies any more than he can possibly help.” Cadet Morris Schaff, who was a year behind Custer, remembered, “West Point had had many a character to deal with; but it may be a question whether it ever had a cadet so exuberant, one who cared so little for its serious attempts to elevate and burnish. And yet how we all loved him.” Another cadet wrote, “He was beyond a doubt the most popular man in his class.”18

Custer was prudent and disciplined enough when his total of demerits would reach levels of dismissal, however, to behave for long periods of time or choose to work off minor infractions by walking extra guard duty. “If my memory serves me,” he wrote, “I devoted sixty-six Saturdays to this method of vindicating outraged military law during my cadetship of four years.”19

Although his “boyish, but harmless frolics kept him in constant hot water,” Custer excelled in popularity and leadership. Many a fellow cadet followed Custer into the “skin book” of demerits. One of his favorite haunts was Benny Havens’ Tavern at Buttermilk Falls, an off-limits establishment a mile below the post, where the adventurous Custer would lead late-night forays following taps and lights-out. After a hot day on the drill field, Custer and his revelers would savor a cool beverage and sing along with the music, and then try to flee before authorities could catch them in the act or possibly find them missing in a bed check. These pleasure-loving cadets had learned how to stuff and arrange their bedclothes to make it appear as if they were sound asleep in their beds.20

There was no end to the imaginative pranks that Custer dreamed up, many of which not only amused and entertained the cadets of his time but became part of West Point lore. He was known to wear a tan-colored wig to hide his shaggy hair, but still received demerits for the long hair. As a result, he once shaved his head, and then endured the razing of his classmates, who would shout during an inspection, “Hair out of uniform!” In another instance, he covered his ankle with iodine and limped around in order to escape drill—just to see if he could get away with it.

His pranks were numerous and varied. One time he tied tin pans to the tail of a dog owned by a professor, which had the predicable effect. He and a coconspirator were known to sneak into a sleeping cadet’s room and roughly pull the unwitting victim from his bed onto the floor and flee before anyone knew what was going on. One day in Spanish class, Custer asked the instructor to translate the phrase “class dismissed.” When the phrase was spoken in Spanish, Custer led a mass exodus from the room.21

Armstrong Custer’s second year was little improvement over the first. He had accumulated 192 demerits—only eight short of the two hundred that would have resulted in his dismissal—for such offenses as having cooking utensils in the chimney and gazing about in ranks. His class standing was fifty-sixth out of sixty. He did, however, prove his skill as a horseman by, according to tradition, executing the highest jump of a hurdle ever at the Academy while slashing at a dummy with his saber.22

The end of this school year meant that Custer’s class would receive their first furlough since entering the Academy. He spent his two months alternating between his family home in New Rumley, Ohio, and his sister’s home in Monroe, Michigan, where he would for the first time see his new nephew, Harry—also nicknamed Autie by the family—who would perish with Custer at the Little Bighorn. Whether or not his romance with Mary Holland was resumed during this time would be a matter of speculation. The two had corresponded, but it appears that the flame was at least flickering and would soon be extinguished.23

Custer’s third year at West Point recorded another poor performance. He studied optics, natural philosophy, astronomy, drawing, French, and Spanish, among other subjects—and earned 191 demerits, one less than the preceding year, and ranked at the bottom of his class. His offenses this year ranged from making a boisterous noise in his sink and talking and laughing in drawing class to throwing snowballs outside and throwing bread in the mess hall.

He had, however, proven that he could discipline himself, if necessary, by remaining demerit-free for a three-month period when threatened with dismissal. Also to his credit, Armstrong was never assessed a skin for fighting or an altercation with another cadet throughout his West Point career. That does not mean, however, that he did not believe in violence toward his fellow man when necessary. Once, when a cadet taunted him through a window, Custer punched the boy through the glass and somehow escaped detection by authorities.24

As Custer’s fourth year approached, the atmosphere at West Point would undergo a dramatic change, however. Politics and sectionalism were about to enter into the daily regimen, and no one—from the most studious cadet to the class clown—would be able to escape its portentous presence.