The Widowed Ones

History has a way of bestowing a more lasting immortality on important people who die at the height of their earthly achievements. Famous personalities who are cut down at the height of their fame leave people clamoring to know more about them. Books and songs are written about them. Pictorial mementoes and keepsakes are in demand. The celebrated military figure General George Armstrong Custer, whose life ended so abruptly, is no exception. Interest in him, and those associated with him, has never diminished with the passing time. Elizabeth Bacon Custer, George's faithful wife, and more than two dozen women who lost their husbands at the Battle of Little Big Horn, fall into that category. Elizabeth Bacon Custer set the social tone at Fort Lincoln, Nebraska, where she and twenty-five other women were living when their spouses perished in June 1876. She helped the ladies deal with the difficulties of life on the Plains; how to handle frostbite, how to treat heat prostration due to the suffocating amount of clothing, how to obtain water through holes cut in the ice of lakes or rivers, and how best to entertain themselves while waiting for their husbands to return from a campaign. When a soldier left the fort, his wife never knew if he would return. Eliza Porter, wife of 1st Lieutenant Colonel I. Porter of Custer's 7th Cavalry, described the last get-together Elizabeth Custer hosted for the officers and their families this way. "Here are those nice fellows gathered around the Custer's table, all discussing the situation and all knowing they will never all come back. One leaves his watch and little fixings and says, 'if one of those bullets gets me, send this to my wife waiting for me in Independence.' One need not search any further to unearth the reason why "Boots and Saddles," the call to battle written by Elizabeth Custer, struck terror into the hearts of Army wives. Each wondered if she would be widowed or if the role of widowhood would be forced upon her friends. After the men were assembled, they rode out proudly to the strains of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." In order to hide their tears and anxiety from their husbands, many wives did as Elizabeth Porter did; they refused to watch the column's ride away from the fort. They preferred to say goodbye behind closed doors. Fear and weeping were private. Nine months after the massacre at Custer's Last Stand, Elizabeth Custer scheduled a reunion with the widows of the Little Big Horn. On June 25, 1887, the women met in Monroe, Michigan, to reflect on the events leading up to the battle, remember the loved ones that were killed, and share how they have been able to go on. The widows got together every year for more than twenty years. In between reunions they corresponded with each other, exchanged photographs, and supported one another through the difficult times. The never-before-seen materials that will be used to write the book entitled Elizabeth Custer and the Widows of the Little Big Horn will be provided by the curators of the Elizabeth Custer Library and Museum at Garryowen, Montana; an example of some of the historical materials that will be provided include letters between Elizabeth Custer and the other widows, letters to and from politicians and the widows supporting and criticizing General Custer, and agendas and pictures of the widows at the annual meetings. There have been many books written about General George Custer and a handful have been penned about Elizabeth Bacon Custer, but there have been nothing written about the widows of the Last Stand. This will be a first.

There weren’t many women in the late 1800s who had the opportunity to accompany their husbands on adventures that were so exciting they seemed fictitious. Such was the case for the women married to the officers in General George Armstrong Custer’s Seventh Cavalry. There were seven officers’ wives. They were all good friends who traveled from post to post with one another along with their spouses. Of the seven widows, Elizabeth Custer was the most well-known. As the wife of the commanding officer, Libbie felt it was her duty to be present when the officer’s wives at Fort Lincoln were told their husbands had been killed at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. The women were overwhelmed with letters of condolence. Most people were sincere in their expressions of sorrow over the widows’ loss. Others were ghoulish souvenir hunters requesting articles of their husbands’ clothing and personal weapons as keepsakes. The press was preoccupied with how the wives of the deceased officers were handling their grief. During the first year after the tragic event, reporters sought them out to learn how they were coping, what plans they had for the future, and what, if anything, they knew about the battle itself. The widows were able to soldier through the scrutiny because they had one another. They confided in each other, cried without apologizing, and discussed their desperate financial situations. The friendship the bereaved widows had with one another proved to be a critical source of support. The transition from being officers’ wives living at various forts on the wild frontier to being single women with homes of their own was a difficult adjustment. Without one another to depend upon, the time might have been more of a struggle. The Widowed Ones: Beyond the Battle of the Little Bighorn tells the stories of these women and the unique bond they shared through never-before-seen materials from the Elizabeth Custer Library and Museum at Garryowen, Montana, including letters to and from politicians and military leaders to the widows, fellow soldiers and critics of George Custer to the widows, and letters between the widows themselves about when the women first met, the men they married, and their attempts to persevere after the tragedy.

“One night when she was four and sleeping in the bottom bunk of her bunk bed, Ruth Cole woke to the sound of lovemaking—it was coming from her parents’ bedroom.” This sentence opens John Irving’s ninth novel, A Widow for One Year, a story of a family marked by tragedy. Ruth Cole is a complex, often self-contradictory character—a “difficult” woman. By no means is she conventionally “nice,” but she will never be forgotten. Ruth’s story is told in three parts, each focusing on a critical time in her life. When we first meet her—on Long Island, in the summer of 1958—Ruth is only four. The second window into Ruth’s life opens on the fall of 1990, when she is an unmarried woman whose personal life is not nearly as successful as her literary career. She distrusts her judgment in men, for good reason. A Widow for One Year closes in the autumn of 1995, when Ruth Cole is a forty-one-year-old widow and mother. She’s about to fall in love for the first time. Richly comic, as well as deeply disturbing, A Widow for One Year is a multilayered love story of astonishing emotional force. Both ribald and erotic, it is also a brilliant novel about the passage of time and the relentlessness of grief.

"Widow" is one title women do not want to have. Yet, according to the Surgeon General’s office, 800,000 people become widows or widowers every year in the United States alone. Every aspect of a widow’s existence changes—like it or not, ready or not. These changes add to the emotional roller coaster that most women experience after losing their husband. Miriam Neff understands the ride. As she struggled to understand and accept her new role after her husband’s death, she recognized the need for women to hear from others about their experiences and what helped them transition to this new stage of life. From One Widow to Another offers practical advice for those facing the loss of a spouse. Drawing from her own loss, Neff walks with the reader through practical issues to a sense of encouragement.

How do older women come to terms with widowhood? Are they vulnerable or courageous, predictable or creative in dealing with this life challenge? Most books about widows usually focus on younger women; this book interweaves the voices of older widows their experiences and insights to show how they have come to terms with widowhood and have recreated their lives in new, unsuspected ways. The widows speak about how they relate to their children, their friends, to men. With powerful emotions they describe their husbands’ final illnesses and deaths, and the challenging early days of widowhood. Disputing stereotypes about older women and widows, The Widowed Self allows the reader to visualize the impact of losing one’s life partner and offers a new way of thinking about widowhood. This new book by Deborah Kestin van den Hoonaard fills a void in previous work on widowhood. Rather than seeing these women as unfortunate, passive victims of life, the reader will come to appreciate the strength and creativity with which these women face one of life’s greatest challenges, a challenge that affects more than half of all women over the age of sixty-five. Widows and their families, scholars, social workers and other professionals who work with older adults will all be interested in reading The Widowed Self: The Older Woman’s Journey through Widowhood.

On May 17, 1876, Elizabeth Bacon Custer kissed her husband George goodbye and wished him good fortune in his efforts to fulfill the Army’s orders to drive in the Native Americans who would not willingly relocate to a reservation. Adorned in a black taffeta dress and a velvet riding cap with a red peacock feather that matched George’s red scarf, she watched the proud regiment ride off. It was a splendid picture. This new biography of Elizabeth Bacon Custer relates the story of the famous and dashing couple's romance, reveals their life of adventure throughout the west during the days of the Indian Wars, and recounts the tragic end of the 7th cavalry and the aftermath for the wives. Libbie Custer was an unusual woman who followed her itinerant army husband's career to its end--but she was also an amazing master of propaganda who tried to recreate George Armstrong Custer's image after Little Bighorn. The author of many books about her own life (some of which are still in print) she was one of the most famous women of her time and remains a fascinating character in American history.

'One night when she was four and sleeping in the bottom bunk of her bunk bed, Ruth Cole awoke to the sound of lovemaking - it was coming from her parents' bedroom.' This is the story of Ruth Cole. It is told in three parts: on Long Island, in the summer of 1958, when she is only four; in 1990, when she is an unmarried woman whose personal life is not nearly as successful as her literary career; and in the autumn of 1995, when Ruth Cole is a forty-one-year-old widow and mother. She's also about to fall in love for the first time...

A loving husband or a heartless killer...she'd know, wouldn't she? There's a lot Jean hasn't said over the years about the crime her husband was suspected of committing. She was busy being the perfect wife, standing by her man while living with accusing glares and anonymous harassment. Now her husband is dead, and there's no reason to stay quiet. People want to hear her story. They want to know what it was like living with that man. She can tell them there were secrets. There always are in a marriage. The truth--that's all anyone wants. But the one lesson Jean has learned in the last few years is that she can make people believe anything. For the reporter who has secured the exclusive interview, this is the scoop of a lifetime. For the detective who has lived a half-life since he failed to get justice for the victim, it is a chance to get at the truth that has eluded him for so long. For Jean, it's a chance to defend herself, what she knew--and when. This is the tale of a missing child, narrated by the wife of the main suspect, the detective leading the hunt, and the journalist covering the case. It's a brilliantly ominous, psychologically acute portrait of a marriage in crisis--perfect for fans of The Silent Wife and The Girl on the Train.