Glorious is a novel by Aram Schefrin, presented in numbered chapters, about George Custer and the Seventh on the road to the Little Big Horn. The storyteller is Captain Frederick Benteen, and his dislike of Custer is never far from the surface. He talks in a rough frontier vernacular, blunt and dryly funny, and at one point addresses a 'dear reader' directly. There is a bookish streak under the grit. In Chapter 39 he likens what he has written to Mercutio's wound, enough and true as holy writ, then lets the pencil drop and promises to see the reader in Hades. Chapter 38 puts him in Chicago's Palmer House three years after the battle, there to tell his story at Reno's Court of Inquiry and admitting he both did and did not want to come. He blames Custer's wife for his being there, and his remarks about her and about Custer's private life are venomous. He lays out Custer's apparent plan to strike the Sioux from the south, east and north without knowing precisely where they were. All Custer had to do, he insists, was follow Terry's orders. The campaign chapters are grittier. In Chapter 34 the Crow scouts appear, pompadoured and given to pranks, and Custer vows to eat a mule, a prairie dog or a hill of ants if it gets him to the Sioux. Lonesome Charlie, a man who never drank, pulls from a flask and lays out everything he owns for others to take; nobody touches it, afraid that doing so would get him killed. Chapter 35 includes a night march up Davis Creek so dark that the dust, the shrieking horses and the banging of coffee cups on saddle pommels are the only proof the column is still behind Custer. When Boyer warns that going down into the valley means waking up in hell, Custer answers that he has been there and it is not that bad. Chapter 36 begins in heat too dry to sweat in. Benteen is sent off with three companies and told nothing of the plan, and he later finds Reno without a hat, begging for help and firing wildly downhill. The shots hit nothing, Benteen observes, but probably improved Reno's mood. Chapter 37 stays on the hill after sundown, with men digging in using knives and forks, one man gone clear insane and tied down, and seventeen volunteers going down a draw for water. It also holds the image of a dead man lying with a blissful smile, hands folded, as if taking a nap. Chapter 39 moves into Custer's column in the present tense, with Lieutenant Cook scribbling a note for a trooper and Custer's brother Boston and nephew Reed whipping their horses to catch up. Benteen presents such scenes as a reconstruction, pieced together from poring over the battlefield and talking to just about everyone. The result is a Little Big Horn told as a grudge, partisan by design and vivid because of it. The narrator's language about Native Americans and others includes slurs, and the violence is described plainly.