Seventeen

Marriage

 

The one bright spot in Custer’s life remained his relationship with Libbie, yet one major hurdle remained—the letter to Judge Bacon asking to marry his daughter. He had finally composed what he considered the most important letter of his life, which arrived at the Bacon residence on October 21.

“I had hoped for a personal interview,” Custer told the judge, but obligations had prevented that while he had been in Monroe on furlough. Custer asked the judge for Libbie’s hand in marriage, and then attempted to promote his worthiness and explain away any concerns by saying, “It is true that I have often committed errors of judgment, but as I grew older I learned the necessity of propriety. I am aware of your fear of intemperance, but surely my conduct for the past two years—during which I have not violated the solemn promise I made my sister, with God to witness, should dispel that fear. You may have thought my conduct trifling after my visits to Libbie ceased, last winter. It was to prevent gossip. I left home when but sixteen, and have been surrounded with temptation, but I have always had a purpose in life.”1

The letter was received by Judge Bacon and his family with mixed emotions, and evoked considerable debate from the various members. The judge replied to Custer that his decision on the matter would require “weeks or even months before I can feel to give you a definite answer.” He did compliment Custer at the end of the letter by writing, “Your ability, energy and force of character I have always admired, and no one can feel more gratified than myself at your well-earned reputation and your high and honorable position.”2

Following a lengthy discussion with Libbie one evening that lasted until the fire had burned down to embers, however, the judge lifted his ban on her corresponding with Custer. Her father’s “great soul,” as Libbie put it, had opened the door for her marriage to Armstrong.3

Libbie opened her first letter to Armstrong with, “My more than friend—at last—Am I glad to write you some of the thoughts I cannot control? I have enjoyed your letters to Nettie, but am delighted to possess some of my own. I was surprised to hear how readily Father had consented to our correspondence. You have no idea how many dark hours your little girl has passed … I had no idea six weeks could go so slowly.”4

She related her family’s guarded blessing to their proposed union, and it was not Daniel who was the main stumbling block. The judge had lifted the ban on writing and receiving letters “because he feels how much harm has often been done by parents refusing.” Libbie wrote that “Father is on my side,” but it was Rhoda who argued that Custer would not make a good husband. She was joined in opposition by Daniel’s brother, Albert Bacon, who agreed with Rhoda’s assessment.5

At the moment, Libbie cared only about the opinion of her father, but openly admitted to her own apprehension. She wrote to Custer, “Ah, dear man, if I am worth having am I not worth waiting for? The very thought of marriage makes me tremble. Girls have so much fun. Marriage means trouble. If you tease me I will go into a convent for a year. The very thought of leaving my home, my family, is painful to me. I implore you not to mention it for at least a year.”6

Custer did not relish hearing about a wait of a year. He immediately sought a furlough in order to travel to Monroe and claim his bribe-to-be. General Pleasonton agreed, but with one stipulation—Custer must first go out and capture Jeb Stuart.

The general consoled himself by spending the evening singing songs around the campfire with Jacob Greene, Joseph Fought, and James Christiancy, who had just returned from Monroe. With guitar and violin accompaniment, they sang “Then You’ll Remember Me,” the song that Libbie had promised to sing for him when they were reunited. That same night, Libbie entered in her journal, “I love you Armstrong Custer. I love you. I love my love and my love loves me—and I am happy.”7

Word of Custer’s proposal to Libbie, which certainly became known within her circle of friends, did not set well with one young lady—Fanny Fifield. Fanny was angry over her rejection, and began spreading rumors that were “prejudicial” to Armstrong Custer. He heard about this gossip, and wrote to Nettie Humphrey, “I am not surprised at Fanny’s telling that my likeness is in her locket. I would be surprised at nothing she chooses to do. For myself I am indifferent, but I hope she will not annoy Libbie.”8

The gossip about Armstrong naturally did distress Libbie, but she dismissed any apprehensions by writing, “I love him though notwithstanding all.” She could understand that a woman who perceived herself to be scorned might say anything, whether true or not, to soothe her heartbreak and humiliation. Libbie Bacon trusted her husband-to-be, and would not allow gossip to destroy their love for each other.9

Meanwhile, Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer became worried about his brigade’s lack of adequate cavalry mounts. His Wolverines had lost a huge number of horses, and the replacements furnished by the government, in Custer’s judgment, were less than satisfactory. Custer took up the matter with General Pleasonton, who forwarded his subordinate’s letter to Major General George Stoneman. The chief of cavalry took a dim view of Custer’s complaint, and wrote back his assurance that the Wolverines had been sufficiently remounted—with the opinion that “Custer’s brigade are great horse killers.”10

Indeed, one of the favorite pastimes around camp was horse racing. Generals Kilpatrick and Pleasonton both joined Custer in some friendly wagering on which of the brigade’s horses was the fastest. Custer did mention this diversion to Libbie, along with poker games, and promised to abstain from them in the future because they were “wrong in principle.” It would be a difficult promise for him to keep.11

On November 19, while Custer was settled into his winter quarters near Stevensburg, not far from Brandy Station and Culpeper Court House, perhaps the most powerful and enduring speech in American history was delivered by President Abraham Lincoln. The occasion was the dedication of a national cemetery for the Union dead at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The primary speaker that day was Edward Everett, one of the nation’s greatest orators. As a courtesy, the president had been invited to “make a few remarks.” Surprisingly, Lincoln had accepted, viewing the opportunity as his chance to convey the Union’s purpose in the war. Everett spoke for two hours, and then Lincoln rose, delivered his speech from two sheets of paper—“Fourscore and seven years ago…”—and was finished before most of the audience even realized he had spoken.

Contrary to popular belief, Lincoln’s words were enthusiastically received, and some reporters instantly recognized their significance. The president remarked that “the world will little note, nor long remember what we say here,” which certainly proved to be false. The Gettysburg Address has become the conscience of the American people, with the resolve “that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

While Lincoln was defining his vision of the United States and those states were in the midst of a great Civil War, the thoughts of the young General George Armstrong Custer never ventured far from his intention of marrying Libbie Bacon—and the timetable she had set did not sit well with him. He wanted them to marry during the winter of 1864, when the lack of field operations would allow him to receive a furlough. In other words, he wanted the wedding to happen as soon as possible in spite of her protestations.

On November 22, he wrote to Libbie, “I am sorry I cannot accede to almost the first written request my little Gypsie has made, but such unfortunately is the case. You bid me maintain strict silence upon a certain subject until next winter and then we are to discuss the subject of your becoming Mrs.______ and arrive at a conclusion the following winter. This like all other bargains requires two to complete it. Now had you presented a single, good reason why the course you make out should be adopted, I might have yielded assent, but you have not done so.” Custer was not bashful about revealing his true intentions, and had initiated another frontal assault on Libbie worthy of his reputation as a bold and daring cavalry officer.12

There were also assaults on the battlefield at this time. In October, following his victory at Vicksburg, Major General Ulysses S. Grant was able to concentrate on eastern Tennessee. He had moved his seventy-thousand-man army from the west and the Mississippi River to lay siege to Chattanooga, where General Braxton Bragg’s fifty thousand Confederates were entrenched on Missionary Ridge, northeast to southwest of town, and Lookout Mountain, on the southwest edge of town.

On November 23, Grant decided to break the siege, and ordered General William T. Sherman to cross the Tennessee River and assault the north end of Missionary Ridge at the enemy’s right, while General Joseph Hooker would attack Lookout Mountain from the left, and General George H. Thomas would stand ready to hit the center or reinforce either flank. After three days of fighting, Bragg’s Army of Tennessee was sent into full retreat, and the Union army was in complete control of the area around Chattanooga. It became apparent with this victory that complete domination of the South seemed imminent and the Confederacy could no longer take the offensive and attack the North but must worry about simply defending itself. Robert E. Lee would disagree with that premise, however, and did not allow this setback to shatter his confidence in his troops or purpose.

On November 26, General George Meade, prodded by the administration in Washington to undertake an offensive before winter, crossed the Rappahannock in a maneuver designed to turn Lee’s right flank and force the Confederates toward Richmond. Meade’s eighty-five thousand troops undertook this movement against Lee’s forty-eight thousand in what would be called the Mine Run Campaign.13

A possible confrontation between George Armstrong Custer and Judson Kilpatrick had been avoided when the commander was called to Washington to appear as a witness in a court-martial. Custer would once again assume command of the Third Division. And his men were in the saddle, although Meade had slowed his advance at Brandy Station.

General Custer’s mission would be to act as a diversionary force upriver from the Union crossing site. On November 15, Davies’ brigade was deployed at Raccoon Ford; Colonel Town, commanding the Wolverines in place of Custer, was sent to Morton’s Ford; and Major James Kidd led the Sixth Michigan upstream toward Somerville Ford.

When these units were in position, Custer ordered Pennington to open up with artillery while the troops feinted crossing the Rappahannock at four points. The Rebels answered with at least thirty-six guns of their own, and revealed that the trenches were occupied by infantry.

Custer had learned his artillery lessons well at West Point, and was anxious to test his skills. He found a target of ten Rebels in a rifle pit, dismounted, and fired two of Pennington’s guns himself. His first shot was a direct hit, which killed six of the occupants. The other four men dashed for another pit, but Custer placed his second round so close that they fled for their lives.14

“I have been entirely successful in deceiving the enemy to-day as to my intention to effect a crossing,” Custer reported to Meade late that afternoon. “I have compelled him to maintain a strong line of battle, extending without break from Morton’s to above Raccoon. The enemy was massing his infantry and strengthening his artillery. He evidently expects us to attempt a passage at those points to-morrow morning.” As darkness approached, Custer added to the ruse by ordering that a long line of campfires be built and having his band serenade the Confederates from several different places along the river.15

The following morning, however, the fortifications across the waterway were found to be empty. The enemy had vacated upon learning about Meade’s actual movements. Colonel Town was sent to investigate, and happened upon a small force of cavalry, which he chased. He captured thirty-two prisoners while losing only one man.16

Meade’s slow advance had permitted Lee to position his army in strong defensive fortifications along the west bank of Mine Run. When an assault by the Union had not materialized by November 30, Lee seriously considered attacking Meade. That night, Lee held a council of war to discuss the matter. Lee and Stuart favored an immediate assault; Ewell and Hill were opposed. Lee decided to make a personal reconnaissance the following day.

In the meantime, Meade thought better of a frontal assault on Lee’s position, and on December 1 wisely retired across the Rapidan. A disappointed Lee wrote, “After awaiting his advance until Tuesday evening, preparations were made to attack him on Wednesday morning. This was prevented by his retreat.”17

Both armies prepared to settle into winter quarters with the Rappahannock and Rapidan rivers as barriers between them.

Custer and his Wolverines settled into the Third Cavalry winter quarters located in the vicinity of Stevensburg, near Brandy Station and Culpeper Court House. The men commenced constructing huts for the officers from a combination of fresh-cut logs as well as lumber, nails, bricks, and other materials scavenged from abandoned houses. These huts, which measured about twelve feet square, were furnished with fireplaces and windows, and situated on streets by company and regiment.18

Custer had been relentless in his frontal assault to convince Libbie to marry him as soon as possible. He even wrote to Nettie Humphrey, asking, “Cannot you threaten her, or use your influence to induce her to do as she ought?” He also wrote to the judge, stating that he was sending a large, colored photograph of himself—a Christmas present—and asked that it be placed in her room as a surprise. He penned another letter in which he promised that as a husband he would be “guided and activated by the principles of right” and that “an aim of my life” would be “to make myself deserving of the high and sacred trust you have reposed in me.”19

Libbie had commenced her own assault on her father—and daughters have been known to have a spiritual and mystical effect upon their fathers.

On December 12, Custer received a letter from Judge Bacon that held the answer to his hopes that matrimony would be a part of his near future. It can only be imagined how much the battle-tested general’s fingers trembled as he opened this letter.

“My Young Friend,” Daniel Bacon began, and addressed the matter of marriage, “You cannot at your age realize the feelings of a parent when called upon to give up and give away an only offspring,” the judge wrote. “I feel that I have kept you in suspense quite too long, and yet when you consider my affection and desire for her happiness you will pardon me for this unreasonable delay.” Bacon acknowledged that he had no right to stand in the way of his daughter’s wishes, and although he might have preferred that Custer had been “a professor of the Christian religion,” affirmed that “you are the object of my choice.”20

Judge Bacon added that “he was not a wealthy man.” His holdings were in real estate, “with sale and price depending on unseen contingencies.” Libbie would inherit the Bacon home, and would bring to the marriage a several-thousand-dollar trousseau, but she could not expect to have “a patrimony at my death exceeding $10,000.” He ended his letter with, “May God in his kind providence favor the union.”21

Five days later, Custer opened a letter from Libbie that compelled him to exclaim, “I am so supremely happy that I can scarcely write, my thoughts go wandering from one subject to another so rapidly that it is with difficulty that I return [to] one long enough to transfer it to paper. Am I not dreaming? Surely such unalloyed pleasure never before was enjoyed by mortal man.”22

Libbie Bacon had surrendered to his aggressive advance, and agreed to marry him that winter.

While Libbie prepared for a February wedding—the exact date dependent upon Armstrong’s ability to gain a furlough—Custer was informed by Pleasonton of a rumor that dampened a portion of his happiness. Pleasonton, who betrayed his own shock, had learned that Custer’s official confirmation as brigadier general was being opposed by Republican Senator Jacob M. Howard of Michigan, who was a member of the Military Affairs Committee.

Howard had questioned Custer’s youth, and the fact that the Ohio native was not a “Michigan Man.” More than likely, however, the real reason was that Custer was a “McClellan Man,” who presumably was out to sabotage the policies of the present administration. Pleasonton told Custer that if he should be stripped of his promotion “it would be a lasting disgrace on the part of the government to allow such injustice.” He advised Custer to exert whatever influence he could muster to fight this action by Howard and other unnamed political enemies.23

Custer speculated that Governor Austin Blair and the former commander of the Michigan Brigade, Joseph Copeland, were “at the bottom of this attempt.” He took action that night by writing to Senators Jacob Howard and Zachariah Chandler, and Congressman F. W. Kellogg, requesting that they “look after my interests.”

In a letter to Isaac Christiancy, Custer wrote, “I have addressed this letter to you with the hope that you could and would bring influence to bear with both Howard and Chandler which would carry their votes in my favor. If my confirmation was placed in the hands of the army I would not expect a single opposing vote.”24

Christiancy replied with assurance that he would contact the senators on Custer’s behalf. He added his opinion that Custer, as the son of a Democrat and former member of McClellan’s staff—and now a general in the army—was subject to the bitter political infighting that ruled Washington. The views of a general about such matters as the Emancipation Proclamation could be as influential as his exploits in combat.

At the same time, Custer received a reply from Senator Howard, which requested answers to questions about whether or not the Boy General was indeed a “McClellan Man,” or a “Copperhead.”

Copperheads, of course, were those Democrats who were more conciliatory toward the South—Peace Democrats. They represented primarily Midwestern states; their leader, Clement L. Vallandigham, was from Ohio, Custer’s native state. They wore a copper penny as an identification badge, hence the name. The Copperheads, a strong and vocal minority in Congress, accused the Republicans, who were mostly from the Northeast, of provoking the war for their own interests, and asserted that military means would fail to restore the Union. And George B. McClellan, whom Custer was known to worship, was being touted as their presidential candidate to oppose Lincoln in the next year’s election.

Custer was pleased about the opportunity to state his case rather than being labeled by others without recourse. He wrote a letter to Senator Howard, and established his position as a loyal supporter for the policies of his commander in chief, Abraham Lincoln. “The president,” Custer affirmed, “cannot issue any decree or order which will not receive my unqualified support … All his acts, proclamations and decisions embraced in his war policy have received not only my support, but my most hardy, earnest and cordial approval.”

Custer addressed his position on the Emancipation Proclamation by declaring that his friends “can testify that I have insisted that so long as a single slave was held in bondage, I for one, was opposed to peace on any terms. I would offer no compromise except that which is offered at the point of the bayonet.”25

Custer privately had blamed Lincoln and Secretary of War Stanton for the dismissal of George McClellan as commander of the Army of the Potomac, and had at that time shared the commanding general’s opinion regarding the conduct of the war. The beliefs stated to Howard in this most important letter, however, can be judged sincere rather than simply a contrived, hypocritical performance presented in order to gain confirmation of his promotion.

Custer was no longer a wandering aide-de-camp but a brigadier general whose leadership had been tested under fire, and that in itself had a way of maturing and altering youthful impressions. To add further credence to the issue, Custer had previously pledged his loyalty to the Lincoln administration in a letter to Judge Bacon—and his future father-in-law was known to despise Lincoln.

Howard and his Republican colleagues were satisfied that Custer was a loyal “Lincoln Man,” and the Senate readily confirmed his nomination to brigadier general. Custer was relieved that he had escaped becoming a victim of politics, and expressed his feelings to Judge Bacon, “The subject has caused me no little anxiety, but now my fears are at rest. I would have written you at once when I learned of the efforts made to injure me, but did not wish to trouble Libbie. You would be surprised at the pertinacity with which certain men labor to defame me. I have paid but little attention to them, trusting to time to vindicate me. And I do not fear the result.” Custer would take pains in the future to curry favor with the power elite in Washington rather than rely merely on his battlefield prowess.26

While Custer fought for his promotion, Libbie had attended several Christmas parties. At one of these events, she happened upon Fanny Fifield, who wore expensive furs and displayed a huge diamond on her finger. Fanny would soon be marrying Charles Thomas, a wealthy merchant, and moving to Boston’s fashionable Newbury Street.27

Now that the promotion obstacle was behind him, pressing family matters were foremost in the mind of George Armstrong Custer. He arranged for a furlough, and the wedding date with Libbie was set for February 9, 1864.

On January 27, Custer, Jacob Greene, George Yates, and James Christiancy boarded a train and, with a stopover in Washington, made the three-day trip to Monroe, Michigan. The Custer family, who with Armstrong’s financial assistance had moved from Ohio to Monroe, welcomed the cavalrymen with a party. Private Tom Custer of the Twenty-first Ohio Infantry had also obtained a furlough, and the two brothers were reunited for the first time since Armstrong had visited home in 1859.

Incidentally, the Custer family was apprehensive about the marriage, and not because they in any way disapproved of Libbie. Armstrong had been helping to support them, and they worried that these funds might end, although he promised they would not. It would take over a year before Emanuel would be able to sell their Ohio farm and profit a thousand dollars.28

A series of teas and receptions fêted the couple in the days preceding the ceremony—including a large invitation-only party at the Humphrey House—and the wedding gifts were displayed in the Bacon parlor. The First Vermont Cavalry had sent a silver dinner service, engraved with “Custer”; the Seventh Michigan, a seven-piece silver tea set; Judge Bacon presented his daughter with a Bible; Mrs. Bacon gave Libbie a white parasol covered with black lace; and Armstrong bestowed upon his bride-to-be a gold watch engraved with the initials E. B. C. Dozens of other well-wishers had responded with items such as napkin rings with gold linings, two white silk fans, a knit breakfast shawl, a lavishly bound copy of Elizabeth Browning poems, and a book titled Whisper to a Bride, by Lydia Howard Sigourney, and a mosaic chess stand made of Grand Rapids marble.

The Bacons would stay awake all night for fear that burglars would pay them a visit. All the valuable gifts were packed up in the morning and taken to the bank for safekeeping.

At 8:00 P.M. on February 9, 1864, George Armstrong Custer and Elizabeth Clift Bacon were united in marriage at the First Presbyterian Church (which still stands) in a storybook wedding with a standing-room-only congregation of witnesses. Reverend Erasmus J. Boyd, who served as principal at the Young Ladies’ Seminary and Collegiate Institute, where Libbie had attended primary school, performed the ceremony, assisted by Reverend D. C. Mattoon. Custer, with hair cut short—to the disappointment of some observers—and wearing his dress uniform, chose his adjutant Jacob Greene as his best man.

Libbie wore a traditional gown, described by her cousin Rebecca Richmond as “a rich white rep silk with deep points and extensive trail, bertha of point lace; veil floated back from a bunch of orange blossoms fixed above the brow.” Libbie’s long, dark hair had been pinned up under her veil. She was given away by her father, who later boasted, “It was said to be the most splendid wedding ever seen in the State.”29

The wedding party was whisked away in sleighs with bells jingling for a reception in the Bacon parlor that was attended by more than three hundred guests. The judge provided a generous buffet of delicacies that featured tubs of ice cream. According to Rebecca Richmond, “The occasion was delightful, hilarious and social.” She had never met Custer, and found him to be “a trump,” a “right bower … he isn’t one bit foppish or conceited. He does not put on airs. He is a simple, frank, manly fellow. And he fairly idolized Libbie. I am sure he will make her a true, noble husband. As for Libbie, she is the same gay, irrepressible spirit we found her a year ago. They cannot but be happy.”30

At midnight, the bridal party—four couples—boarded a train, and arrived in Cleveland at 9:00 A.M. the following morning. After an afternoon reception and an evening party hosted by friends, Armstrong and Libbie traveled alone to Buffalo, then on to Rochester, where they attended a performance of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The honeymoon continued with the bride and groom calling on Libbie’s upstate New York relatives, taking a trip down the Hudson River to visit West Point, and then going on to New York City.31

At West Point, Libbie was left in the care of several cadets while Armstrong visited his professors. She would later confess to him that the cadets had escorted her down what was known as “Lover’s Walk,” and that one of the faculty members had wanted to kiss the bride and had done so. On the train from the Point to New York City, Armstrong fumed in jealous silence with an expression that Libbie described as an “incarnated thundercloud.” Reduced to tears, she argued that the professor had been “a veritable Methuselah.” And the cadets were but harmless schoolboys. He was not moved. Finally, in exasperation, Libbie cried, “Well, you left me with them, Autie!” Libbie would find that this would not be the last of what she would refer to as his “silent seasons.”

No clinical explanation has ever been given for the dark moments in Custer’s life, but it can be speculated that he had advanced so far so early in life and was still immature enough to be occasionally affected by the immensity of his responsibilities. He had written that he was acutely aware that the lives of men—and their families—rested on the decisions he made. Perhaps at times he needed to escape within himself to deal with the stress of command. Whatever issue at present bothered him may have been used as an excuse for his behavior and more was made of it than under normal circumstances.32

Otherwise, the honeymoon was delightful for them both. Their final stop was Washington, D.C., where they roomed at a boardinghouse, attended church, went sightseeing, and dined with Michigan members of Congress and other dignitaries. One night, they visited the theater for a performance of the play East Lynne. Libbie was amused to notice that her Autie “laughed at the fun and cried at the pathos in the theatres with all the abandon of a boy unconscious of surroundings.”

In spite of Armstrong’s occasional moodiness, the love shared between the two of them from this point forth would endure as one of the great romances in American history.

The joyous Custer honeymoon came to an abrupt end, however, when Armstrong was ordered back to duty for the purpose of being a pawn in a dangerous scheme concocted by Judson Kilpatrick. This action was destined to bring great embarrassment upon the Union and place lives unnecessarily in harm’s way.