Libbie and George, A Love Story, part 3

Through the early days of the American Civil War, while the North assaulted the South and the South, in turn, assaulted the North, George Armstrong Custer continued his assault on Libbie Bacon.

Though Custer received no serious wound in the North-South conflict, he was not so fortunate in his battle for love. In October of 1861, while on leave in Monroe, Michigan, Custer received a self-inflicted wound. Fortunately, it was not a mortal wound but it did considerable damage to his pride. It also created a major set back in his battle tactics to capture Libbie’s heart. The weapon of choice may have been somewhere between 80 and 100 proof—perhaps a little more or a little less. Whichever the case, the ‘shot’ was effective.

To put it bluntly, George Armstrong Custer got blind staggering drunk. But he, at least, had enough wits about him to attempt to navigate towards his sister Lydia’s house where he was staying. However, a better battle plan would have been not to retreat homeward down Monroe Street where the honorable Judge Daniel Bacon lived—with his lovely daughter Libbie.

And, like in the adventure novels George devoured as a youngster, as he came “reeling, staggering, vomiting, falling on his ear, etc.” to quote Evan Connell in Son of the Morning Star, of course Libbie was at home, gazing toward the street from an upstairs window. Her father was similarly occupied from the downstairs.

But perhaps the incident was for the better of his future. Whether because he awoke from his stupor to find his sister on her knees beside his bed in serious prayer, or that he realized he just didn’t have the stomach for such a liquid assault Custer never again took a drink of alcohol. Not even wine with dinner passed his lips.

Ever after, when asked what he would like to drink he, as usual, made a show of his answer which was “Aldernay.” Of course this would bring about the usual question of what is Aldernay? Thus giving Custer an opportunity to demonstrate his knowledge by explaining that it was a breed of cattle named for an island in the English Channel. His unusual answer meant that he’d have a glass of milk.

While Custer was dispensing with one gentlemanly custom he also discharged others—gambling and swearing. The first took several years to defeat, the second never entirely done away with.

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