New Orleans was again a pleasure to us, and this time we knew just where to go for recreation or for our dinner. Nearly a year in Texas had prepared us for gastronomic feats, and though the General was by no means a bon-vivant, any one so susceptible to surroundings as he would be tempted by the dainty serving of a French dinner. Our party had dined too often with Duke Humphrey in the pine forests of Louisiana and Texas, not to enjoy every delicacy served. All through the year it had been the custom to refer to the luxuries of the French market, and now, with our purses a little fuller than when we were on our way into Texas, we had some royal times—that is, for poor folks.
We took a steamer for Cairo, and though the novelty of river travel was over, it continued to be most enjoyable. And still the staff found the dinner-hour an event, as they were making up for our limited bill of fare the year past. A very good string band "charmed the savage" while he dined. It was the custom, now obsolete, to march the white coated and aproned waiters in file from kitchen to dining-room, each carrying aloft some feat of the cook, and as we had a table to ourselves, there was no lack of witty comments on this military serving of our food, and smacking of lips over edibles we had almost forgotten in our year of semi-civilization. The negroes were in a state of perpetual guffaws over the remarks made, sotto voce, by our merry table, and they soon grew to be skillful confederates in all the pranks practiced on our father Custer. For instance, he slowly read over the bill of fare, or his sons read it, and he chose the viands as they were repeated to him. Broiled ham on coals seemed to attract his old-fashioned taste. Then my husband said, "Of course, of course; what a good selection!" and gave the order, accompanied by a significant wink to the waiter. Presently our parent, feeling an unnatural warmth near his ear, looked around to find his order filled literally, and the ham sizzling on red coals. He naturally did not know what to do with the dish, fearing to set the boat on fire, and his sons were preternaturally absorbed in talking with some one at the end of the table, while the waiter slid back to the kitchen to have his laugh out.
Our father Custer was of the most intensely argumentative nature. He was the strongest sort of politician; he is now, and grows excited and belligerent over his party affairs at nearly eighty, as if he were a lad. He is beloved at home in Monroe, but it is considered too good fun not to fling little sneers at his candidate or party, just to witness the rapidity with which the old gentleman plunges into a defense. Michigan's present Secretary of State, the Hon. Harry Conant, my husband's, and now my father's, faithful friend, early took his cue from the General, and loses no opportunity now to get up a wordy war with our venerable Democrat, solely to hear the defense. And then, too, our father Custer considers it time well spent to "labor with that young man" over the error he considers he has made in the choice of politics. As the old gentleman drives or rides his son's war-horse, Dandy, through the town, his progress is slow, for some voice is certain to be raised from the sidewalk, calling out, "Well, father Custer, to-day's paper shows your side well whipped," or a like challenge to argument. Dandy is drawn up at once, and the flies can nip his sides at will, so far as his usually careful master is conscious of him, as he cannot proceed until the one who has good-naturedly agitated him has been struggled over, to convince him of the error of his belief.
I was driving with him in Monroe not long since, and as the train was passing through the town, Dandy was driven up to the cars. I expostulated, asking if he intended him to climb over or creep under; but he persisted, only explaining that he wished me to see how gentle Dandy could be. Suddenly the conductor swung himself from the platform, and called out some bantering words about politics. Our father was then for driving Dandy directly into the train. He fairly yelled some sort of imputation upon the other party, and then kept on talking, gesticulating with his whip and shaking it at the conductor, who laughed immoderately as he was being carried out of sight. I asked what was the matter—did he have any grudge or hatred for the man? "Oh, no, daughter, he's a good enough fellow, only he's an onery scamp of a Republican."
His sons never lost a chance to enter into discussion with him. I have known the General to "bone up," as his West Point phrase expressed it, on the smallest details of some question at issue in the Republican party, for no other reason than to incite his parent to a defense. The discussion was so earnest, that even I would be deceived into thinking it something my husband was all on fire about. But the older man was never rasped or badgered into anger. He worked and struggled with his boy, and mourned that he should have a son who had so far strayed from the truth as he understood it. The General argued as vehemently as his father, and never undeceived him for days, but simply let the old gentleman think how misguided he really was. It served to pass many an hour of slow travel up the river. Tom connived with the General to deprive their father temporarily of his dinner. When the plate was well prepared, as was the old-time custom, the potato and vegetables seasoned, the meat cut, it was the signal for my husband to hurl a bomb of inflammable information at the whitening hairs of his parent. The old man would rather argue than eat, and, laying down his knife and fork, he fell to the discussion as eagerly as if he had not been hungry. As the argument grew energetic and more absorbing, Tom slipped away the father's plate, ate all the nicely prepared food, and returned it empty to its place. Then the General tapered off his aggravating threats, and said, "Well, come, come, come, father, why don't you eat your dinner?" Father Custer's blank face at the sight of the empty plate was a mirth-provoking sight to his offspring, and they took good care to tip the waiter and order a warm dinner for the still arguing man. In a quaint letter, a portion of which I give below, father Custer tells how, early in life, he began to teach his boys politics.
"Tecumseh, Mich., Feb. 3, 1887.
"My Dear Daughter Elizabeth: I received your letter, requesting me to tell you something of our trip up the Mississippi with my dear boys, Autie and Tommy. Well, as I was always a boy with my boys, I will try and tell you of some of our jokes and tricks on each other. I want to tell you also of a little incident when Autie was about four years old. He had to have a tooth drawn, and he was very much afraid of blood. When I took him to the doctor to have the tooth pulled, it was in the night, and I told him if it bled well it would get well right away, and he must be a good soldier. When he got to the doctor he took his seat, and the pulling began. The forceps slipped off, and he had to make a second trial. He pulled it out, and Autie never even scrunched. Going home, I led him by the arm. He jumped and skipped, and said, 'Father, you and me can whip all the Whigs in Michigan.' I thought that was saying a good deal, but I did not contradict him."
"When we were in Texas, I was at Autie's headquarters one day, and something came up, I've forgotten what it was, but I said I would bet that it was not so, and he said, 'What will you bet?' I said, 'I'll bet my trunk.' I have forgotten the amount he put up against it, but according to the rule of betting he won my trunk. I thought that was the end of it, as I took it just as a joke, and I remained there with him for some time. To my great astonishment, here came an orderly with the trunk on his shoulder, and set it down before Autie. Well, I hardly knew what to think. I hadn't been there long, and didn't know camp ways very well. I had always understood that the soldiers were a pretty rough set of customers, and I wanted to know how to try and take care of myself, so I thought I would go up to my tent and see what had become of my goods and chattels. When I got there, all my things were on my bed. Tom had taken them out, and he had not been very particular in getting them out, so they were scattered helter-skelter, for I suppose he was hurried and thought I would catch him at it. I began to think that I would have to hunt quarters in some other direction."
"The next trick Autie played me was on account of his knowing that I was very anxious to see an alligator. He was out with his gun one day, and I heard him shoot, and when he came up to his tent I asked him what he had been firing at. He said, an alligator, so I started off to see the animal, and when I found it, what do you think it was, but an old Government mule that had died because it was played out! Well, he had a hearty laugh over that trick."
"Then, my daughter, I was going over my mess bill and some of my accounts with Tommy, and to my great astonishment I found I was out a hundred dollars. I could not see how I could have made such a mistake, but I just kept this to myself. I didn't say a word about it until Autie and Tom could not stand it any longer, so Autie asked me one day about my money matters. I told him I was out a hundred dollars, and I could not understand it. Then he just told me that Tommy had hooked that sum from me while he was pretending to help me straighten up. I went for Tom, and got my stolen money back."