General George Armstrong Custer walked into the hotel room
in Washington and the notables gathered therein jumped up as though Jesus
himself had entered. They looked at his as Jesus since he would have to save
them. Because he was the only hope the Democratic Party had of winning the
Presidency in the upcoming election in the centennial year of 1876.
The only potentate who did not rise was the nominal canid
ate Governor Samuel J. Tilden of New York who had been selected by the
convention to carry the banner of the Democratic party. A handsome individual
in expensive clothing with a diamond stickpin in his cravat he looked at the
strutting gamecock with a jaundiced eye. He had been designated as the
candidate by the convention but the party bosses wanted to what you should
never do. Change horses in midstream. They wanted to replace him with the Hero
of the Battle of the Little Big Horn.
Bayard and Thurman who had been among the bitter rivals that
had contested the nomination were leading the charge. Even Hendricks who Tilden
had taken on as his Vice-Presidential nominee was in on the attempt to steal
the nomination. The only one who refrained was General Winfield Scott Hancock
who thought if a general was to be the nominee it could only be him.
The problem was that the “soft money” contingent led by John
Kelly from his own state of New York wanted to abrogate his victory and turn to
a successful general to combat the dominance of the Republican Party ever since
the War Between the State. They wanted to flood the nation with greenbacks
instead of going back to the gold standard that Tilden embraced. This strutting
peacock would be their puppet in this since he knew about as much about
economics as a dog did about Latin. It is the rest of the duties of a President
that would be the rub.
“Gentlemen thank you for inviting me to meet with you today.
I have just arrived from the Dakota’s where we put paid to the savages as you
well know.” Custer stood tall in his fringed buckskin jacket and battered felt
hat like he had just ridden in from the battlefield. He was a theatrical
presence of that there could be no doubt. He couldn’t even appear in his
correct dress uniform. If these idiots thought they would control this
vainglorious lout they had another thing coming. There was no doubt that he
would take them into another war.
“Please sit down General and we can put our proposal to
you.” John Kelly motioned to a seat in the middle of a circle of chairs that
had been set up for the group to discuss their plans. It seemed that the New
York Tammany Hall ward heeler had been chosen to be the spokesman for the
group. Which was bad news for the Governor since his bitter break with Tammany
Hall had poisoned the well. Now the Sachem would have his revenge by stealing
the nomination.
Senator Bayard of Delaware took up the torch. “General we
are faced with a conundrum. You know the efforts the party has made to break
through the prejudice that the nation feels towards our great party because of
the late unpleasantness. General Grant has run his course and is not the
candidate. We need a general of our own to compete and we need someone of your
demonstrated bravery and competence to once more lead the charge.”
General Custer sat back in his chair and asked the obvious
question. “I am sorry but I thought the convention is over and Governor Tilden
has accepted the nomination? Or have I been misinformed?” Tilden leaned forward
and said “Yes there is that Bayard.” “Now Samuel you know that we have
discussed this. A unanimous vote of the committee can allow us to change the
nominee. We have the votes. I had hoped you would acquiesce. For the good of
the party. For the good of the Nation. A General especially a hero of both the
War and the ongoing conflict with the Indians would be a far easier matter than
a mere governor. Sorry to be so blunt but there it is.”
Governor Tilden was incensed at the caviler treatment of his
candidacy by this cabal of fat cats and corrupt politicians. A reformer who
fought the good fight, he was not going to surrender without a fight. “I was
fairly elected as the Democratic Candidate for President and I have no
intention of stepping down.”
General Custer turned to look at the group and did not say
anything. He was here at their invitation and knew enough to be discreet. Finally,
a voice in the corner spoke up.
“You have to realize Samuel. They have the votes, and they
are determined. If you try to fight it you will lose and maybe sink any chance
we have of finally defeating the Republicans,” said Horatio Seymour which was a
stab in the back. Tilden had managed his campaigns including his losing”
campaign for President. For Seymour to tell him there was no chance meant that it
was true.
“Et tu Horatio,” Tilden sighed. “I will not stand in the way
of the party. We need to defeat the Republicans at all cost. We cannot let
their continual subjugation of the South to continue. If we do, we are in
danger of the hostilities breaking out once again. But I learned long ago not
to buy a pig in a poke. We need to ask the General what his plans are since I
am not aware of him ever announcing them to the public at large.”
“That is a very astute observation,” Senator Bayard said quickly. “General if you are to be our candidate can you share you views with us.”
General Custer looked quizzically at them and said, “Does
that have some effect on getting the nomination. I would think my views were
well known. Otherwise, why offer me the nomination?”
Congressman Kelly leaned forward and said, “Indulge us
general if you would. What is your plan for the savages and the settlement of
the frontier?”
“I intend to go forward as we have now. I did not kill Crazy
Horse to surrender to the dictates of Philadelphia sophisticates who weep for
the red man. They will submit or they will perish. It is as simple and brutal
as that. The West must be opened for the white man, and I am the one to do it. I
know the Army and I know the red man and I will finish the job just as I broke
the Sioux at Little Big Horn.”
“That’s fine as far as it goes. What about monetary policy?”
asked Senator Bayard. “Are a gold standard man or will you support continuing
the use of greenbacks to maintain our economy.” “I expect to be guided by you
and others in the party in these matters, since you have the experience and
knowledge to tutor me in this respect. I anticipate not making any changes in
the near term unless the situation calls for it.”
Bayard and Thurman looked at each other and nodded. That was
the key. The rest didn’t interest them all that much.
Tilden decided to stir the pot. “I understand you had some
trouble when you were in Texas in the early days of Reconstruction. What will your
policy be towards the Southern states?”
“I intend to integrate them back into the nation as expeditiously
as possible. I have a plan to that effect.” “Really,” Tilden said. “What might
that plan be?”
Custer leaned forward and said one word. “War.”
They were all nonplussed
at the one-word answer. “War? With who?” sputtered Congressman Kelly. “With the
South again? That would be a disaster.” Custer smiled. “No not with the South.
They will be fighting with us this time. The marital spirit of our Southern
brothers will be ignited and it will unite the country as we march shoulder and
shoulder. It will heal our wounds to fight together instead of fighting each
other.”
“War? Seriously? Answer the question sir if you please.”
Tilden demanded. “Who will we declare war on to unite the nation? Mexico?
England? France? Who?”
Custer smiled a knowing smile and said, “Why I don’t think
it much matters Governor. But my preference would be Spain. I think Cuba would
make a great addition to our nation. It will be easy and bring us all together.
That in short is my plan. Take it or leave it.”
The group all beamed in unison. Except for Tilden who hung
his head in despair. The rest were jubilant. They had their man. They had their
means to unite the South and bind them back to the nation. They had the chance
to profit in a war footing as they printed more greenbacks. What could be
better?
They had their man.
11 comments:
Hmmm, I think you know as well as I Custer, as with all the best Indian fighters from Robert Rogers to Nelson Miles saw the Indians as people and took an interest in their customs, history, etc. I also think you know Robert Roosevelt was the power in the Democrat party at the time and the best Custer was hoping for was Secretary of the Interior or Commissioner of Indian Affairs.
That said, very interesting riff on the smoke-filled room of the times. I'm just wondering if you're setting up Armstrong to be another Hitler.
Or Trump.
Well written, Trooper. I find, however, that there are several typographical errors that should be ameliorated prior to publishing. First, there is an extraneous apostrophe in the word "Dakotas", rendering it a possessive. What, precisely do the Dakotas possess? Gold! But that's another story.
Another is the random double quote mark after the word "losing". See, just like that!
Your story was interesting enough to make me read up on Custer and Little Big Horn. After reading about the mutilation of the corpses I am now firmly in General Sheridan's camp.
Indians didn't want to meet up with tough fighters in the Happy Hunting Ground, so they made sure they wouldn't be as formidable.
Hell, there are lots of anecdotes of US Marines taking little mementos from the bodies of dead Japanese.
Trooper - I see what you did! Thanks!
Whataboutism - I should expect no less from you, Ed.
I've no clue what expecting more or less from those who post or comment here might involve.
As for whataboutism, is that a joke?
For centuries, humans who've opposed each other in battle have collected mementos, mutilated the dead and perpetrated abuse on the vanquished; and that's a practice that continues on to this day in the war in the Ukraine.
FWIW, there's also annecdotes of US troops doing things to and taking things from the bodies of dead Viet Cong. Tim O'Brien, memorialized the taking of ears in his novel, The Things They Carried. Did that really happen? Who knows?
“A thing may happen and be a total lie; another thing may not happen and be truer than the truth.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried
“A true war story is never moral. It does not instruct, nor encourage virtue, nor suggest models of proper human behavior, nor restrain men from doing the things men have always done. If a story seems moral, do not believe it. If at the end of a war story you feel uplifted, or if you feel that some small bit of rectitude has been salvaged from the larger waste, then you have been made the victim of a very old and terrible lie. There is no rectitude whatsoever. There is no virtue. As a first rule of thumb, therefore, you can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil.”
― Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried
Ed immediately jumped to the defense of the dirt-worshipping heathens who murdered European settlers with alacrity. Then he attacked American Marines. It's almost as if the bloated paper pusher who faced nothing more dangerous than a paper cut in his entire career finds it easy to denigrate the Marines whose life was on the line and somehow signals his virtue because he read something in a book. Self-loathing is never a good thing.
Self-loathing is never a good thing.
No, it's not. Right up there in my book with jumping to false conclusions and projecting ugliness on others.
U.S. Marine Corps veteran Donald Fall attributed the mutilation of enemy corpses to hatred and desire for vengeance:
On the second day of Guadalcanal we captured a big Jap bivouac with all kinds of beer and supplies ... But they also found a lot of pictures of Marines that had been cut up and mutilated on Wake Island. The next thing you know there are Marines walking around with Jap ears stuck on their belts with safety pins. They issued an order reminding Marines that mutilation was a court-martial offense ... You get into a nasty frame of mind in combat. You see what's been done to you. You'd find a dead Marine that the Japs had booby-trapped. We found dead Japs that were booby-trapped. And they mutilated the dead. We began to get down to their level.
Another example of mutilation was related by Ore Marion, a U.S. marine who suggested that soldiers became "like animals" under harsh conditions:
We learned about savagery from the Japanese ... But those sixteen-to-nineteen-year old kids we had on the Canal were fast learners ... At daybreak, a couple of our kids, bearded, dirty, skinny from hunger, slightly wounded by bayonets, clothes worn and torn, wack off three Jap heads and jam them on poles facing the "Jap side" of the river ... The colonel sees Jap heads on the poles and says, "Jesus men, what are you doing? You're acting like animals." A dirty, stinking young kid says, "That's right Colonel, we are animals. We live like animals, we eat and are treated like animals—what the fuck do you expect?"
The Dude said...
Ed immediately jumped to the defense of the dirt-worshipping heathens who murdered European settlers with alacrity. Then he attacked American Marines.
No defense, just explaining why they did it. You want something that will curl your toes, look up the death of Col William Crawford at the end of the American Revolution.
As for the Marines, I mentioned that merely to show this was something many people do in war, regardless of culture or civilization.
And I am not bloated. My last physical showed I dropped 10 pounds.
OK, I went and looked, to find these two statements situated like bookends on either end of a toe-curling description of Crawford's torture and death:
"It was a vicious execution, but not unheard of in the wars on the American frontier, where violence and brutality from both sides were common."
...the list of American offenses against the Ohio Indians was as long as that perpetrated by Ohio Indians against frontier settlers and traders. Colonel Crawford had the misfortune of falling into Indian hands at a time when the war was particularly vicious."
https://emergingrevolutionarywar.org/2018/07/26/burning-colonel-crawford/
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