Reno’s dead were also buried where they lay. Some were interred atop the bluffs where he and Benteen had been besieged for most of two days and nights. Those left behind by Reno in his hasty retreat were buried below the bluffs or in the riverbottom where they had died.

Making the First Move

Private William O. Taylor later wrote of using blankets to carry wounded soldiers down off the bluffs late on June 27^th. The Indian village below had been abandoned. Reno had 52 wounded soldiers who could be better cared for down at that site.  

Among its other benefits, the site offered access to flowing water. This was much needed by all, especially the wounded. Taylor noted the challenge of moving the disabled across the waist-deep river. One wonders about sanitation at the site of such large gatherings, but the Indians had apparently not been encamped there long. It seemed to prove a more desirable place for the whole command.

Not all the soldiers’ wounds were debilitating. Scout and packer George Herendeen later wrote of at least two wounded soldiers who survived with him after Reno left them behind. They were able to cross the river and climb to the siege site on the bluffs. Still, even the less severe wounds must have been exceedingly painful.

Moving a Second Time

Burials consumed most of June 28th. Able-bodied troopers not involved in burials were tasked with gathering poles to be used for litters. Others destroyed anything left behind that might later prove useful to hostile Indians. Both army supplies and goods abandoned in the Sioux/Cheyenne village were destroyed.

At 6:30 p.m. June 28^th, the combined forces began moving downriver. The steamboat Far West waited somewhere on the Bighorn River. First, the command just hoped to reach the site where Terry had camped the night of June 25^th. It lay 8 ¾ miles downstream, according to 7^th Infantry engineer Edward McClernand. He estimated it at less than 7 miles as a crow flies.

The command fell short of its goal, however. Finding that carrying the near dead weight of non-walking wounded, four soldiers could move a litter only 50 to 60 feet without rest. Even with eight to a litter, alternating regularly, the litters proved exceedingly difficult to move. The command covered only 4 ½ miles in 5 ½ hours before stopping at midnight.

June 29^th proved to be when the wounded truly could be moved. The progress came due to the innovation of Lt. Gustavus Doane. He improvised litters on poles more than 20 feet long. The poles’ front and back ends were fastened to mule saddles, and soldiers led the mules carefully by hand.

Rather than blankets to support the immobilized wounded, baskets were improvised between the poles. This was done by cutting rawhide strips from the skins of dead horses, which were plentiful after the battle. However, the process consumed the entire day. Again, those not involved were busy destroying plunder.

The Final Push (To the Far West)

Finally, this time at 5:00 p.m., the command resumed its move downriver. They planned to move only a few miles, this time to the site of Terry’s June 25^th camp. However, Doane’s improvised and innovative litters worked better than anticipated. Another factor also intervened.

After moving three miles the command was met by couriers from the Far West. They informed General Terry that the steamboat awaited at the Little Bighorn’s mouth. It was decided to press on until the Far West was reached. Having marched up the Little Bighorn three days before, perhaps Terry felt more confident in marching down.

Following the river’s “left bank,” (the west bank — in this case “left” as one faces downriver) the column perhaps found better travelling by topping an elevated plateau. However, both men and horses were much aggravated by its abundant “large cactus” that they strode through in the dark.

[Note: As an engineer, McClernand reported precise mileages. His distances were calculated using two odometers, one on either wheel of a cart moved by his assistant. Using wheel circumference, the odometers worked by counting each successive full turn of the wheel. His distance reports appear precise.]

Finally after nearly 15 miles (14.9 by McClernand’s report), the command neared the Far West after midnight. However, they encountered another obstacle. Their descent off the plateau and down to where the Far West lay moored involved a steep route off a somewhat steep bluff or ridge.

McClernand and others note that fires were built at intervals to mark and perhaps light the best route downward. Still, it must have been a somewhat jolting experience for those suffering from wounds. The fires may have been ordered by Terry or Gibbon. However, they have also been attributed to the foresight of steamboat captain Grant Marsh. Marsh will be featured more in weeks to come.

Marsh had shown the foresight to prepare his steamboat’s deck as a field hospital. A great deal of long, lush grass had been brought aboard by crewmen. Canvas had then been laid over this cushioning. It provided the best bedding he could offer the wounded. It also allowed the surgeons to tend them in the most efficient manner possible.

No Rest For the Weary

The Far West would not embark downstream until noon on June 30^th. Whether it was taking on fuel (wood for the boiler fires) or sorting essential vs. nonessential supplies, its departure was not early. It would then stop at the supply base near Fort Pease between the Bighorn and Rosebud Creek’s mouths.

Meanwhile, the able-bodied infantry and cavalry marched overland to the same supply base. The steamboat was used to ferry men and horses to the Yellowstone River’s north bank on July 2nd. It still ran high in early July, and infantry could not have crossed it on foot.

Finally, with ferrying done and essential supplies on board, the Far West started downriver at last with the wounded on July 3^rd. A full week had passed since the main battle. Working with the strong, fast current, Marsh ran his boat relentlessly. His destination was Fort Abraham Lincoln, the nearest location where wounded soldiers could receive good hospital care. It lay 700 miles downriver.

Marsh made a record run, which, again, will be featured in coming weeks. In addition to the wounded it bore shocking news of Custer’s unthinkable defeat. Arriving nearly on the date of the nation’s centennial, the Far West figured prominently in the story of the debacle at the Little Bighorn.

The post Aftermath: Moving the Wounded appeared first on Bighorn, Big Hole and Beyond.

A Crucial Count

That “intel” was significant in two ways. First, of course, it confirmed the shocking report by Crow scouts that Custer’s command had been annihilated. Secondly, the bodies represented only about a third of the 7^th Cavalry’s strength. That also confirmed the Crow scouts’ report that some of the regiment remained alive – somewhere.

Some of the shock of finding so many soldiers dead had been eased by the Crows’ accounts. Those reports were largely discounted by many in Terry’s command. Such a defeat had never been imagined. It was not even thought possible.

However, the column had seen many hostiles ahead along the Little Bighorn near dusk on June 26^th. This sighting had already lent credibility to the reports. Terry’s advance guard and scouts had seen what appeared to be cavalry columns riding in formation that evening.

Muggins Taylor, a local guide, had ridden close and had been fired at. He was trying to relay a written message from Terry to Custer. However, upon being fired at, he gave up. He returned angrily to Terry’s column stating he would kill the “Indian scout” that had shot at him. The shooter had been a hostile warrior, however, and not a scout.

Realizing their risks as darkness fell, Terry ordered the troops to halt and camp for the night. He feared if Custer’s troops were ahead, the two commands would shoot at each other in the darkness. A good, healthy fear of hostile encounters existed also. The command stopped miles short of Custer’s last resting place.

The next morning some of Terry’s officers thought they saw buffalo ahead on the slopes east of the Little Bighorn. Soon Bradley rode in, confirming at least 197 dead soldiers. The dark masses mistaken for buffalo proved to be dead or badly wounded horses.

Sense of Duty: Rescuing the Remnant

Sadness and shock turned quickly to a sense of duty. Terry, Gibbon and the officers knew much of Custer’s 12-troop regiment must still be alive and probably in distress. They continued southward and soon saw objects that proved to be humans.

Due caution ruled, as one would expect, but scouts from each command guardedly approached each other. The people on the bluffs to the south proved in fact to belong to Reno’s regimental remnant.

Upon hearing of Custer’s disaster, Reno’s troops were as shocked as Terry and Gibbon’s had been. They already were dehydrated, demoralized and distressed. Hearty handshakes were exchanged along with expressions of relief and gratitude. The remainder of that day was spent in caring for the wounded men and horses, watering the mounts and regrouping the besieged, battered command on the bluffs.

Death’s Duty

It was not until June 28^th that troops went to identify, bury and mark the dead bodies. The dead within Reno and Benteen’s lines were buried atop the bluff. The dead (some of whom had been only wounded) left behind by Reno in his ragged, river-bottom retreat were buried where they lay. Details were sent three or four miles downriver to locate and inter Custer’s dead.

Gruesome Details

The task of identifying bodies was gruesome, as was burial detail. The men had died the afternoon of June 25^th, which had been unusually hot. Then rain had fallen. Stripped and often mutilated, the bodies had lain in the heat for two more days June 26^th and 27^th. Maybe the rain had delayed decomposition. It likely hastened it by adding muggy, humid conditions.

Needless to say, over three days, bodies had begun to bloat and reek. Lt. Godfrey, with Benteen’s troops, saw the stripped bodies from a distance through field glasses. They looked like white boulders. Even without scalping or mutilation the bodies would have been appalling by then. They must have crawled with flies too.

Once blood stops flowing, gravity takes effect. Blood still in the body naturally pools in the lowest spots (pooled lividity) causing bruise-like discoloration. Many of the bodies had been found face-down. Lividity must have made features even harder to recognize.

Many bodies, if not most, had been at least scalped if not mutilated. Mutilation was often practiced against dead enemies by many Indian tribes. Skulls were smashed for various reasons. Dead bodies were shot full of bullets and arrows. This will serve as its own topic later.

All this is not to make light of gruesome descriptions. Rather, it demonstrates what survivors of the battle had to deal with in the coming days. Many of them, especially officers, had served in America’s Civil War over a decade earlier. Most had already seen war’s carnage. Many recruits were new, however, and had just seen their first battle. Results could not have been pleasant.

A Shovel Shortage

A lack of shovels made the burial task more challenging. Lt. Edward McClernand, with Gibbon’s column, kept a journal and later wrote a more formal account. He noted, “As we had but a few spades, the burial of the dead was more of a pretense than reality. A number were simply covered with sage brush. Yet we did our best.”

Private William O. Taylor echoed the point, noting, “We had but little in the way of grave digging implements, one spade to a company and that was brought along by the company cook for the purpose of cutting a trench for his fire, so the decent and proper burial of over two hundred bodies was not possible in the limited time at our disposal.” Bear in mind, the threat of potential return by attacking hostiles still loomed.

Taylor went on, “The most that could be done was to cover the remains with some branches of sagebrush and scatter a little earth on top . . .” Both Godfrey and McClernand, an engineer, reported counts of 212 burials at Custer’s site.

That lack of shovels had also hampered Reno and Benteen’s men as they tried to entrench on the bluffs during their first night under siege. Taylor wrote, “Our tools were tin cups and plates, knives, sharpened paddles made out of pieces of hardtack boxes, and a few shovels.” If a few shovels was the best those besieged men could muster for entrenching under duress, they could do little better for the dead.

Taylor also added, “The sagebrush, broken and trampled by the horses and ponies of the contending forces, gave forth a strong odor which, mingled with that of the swollen and fast decomposing remains, . . . was sickening in the extreme, and yet so hardened or indifferent were some that I saw man sitting down close by a mangled body and calmly munching their bit of hardtack and bacon.

Aftershocks

While some, as might be expected, were hardly bothered by the bodies and their burial, other accounts describe it as expected. One speaks of limbs tearing away as bodies were dragged into shallow trenches. The effects, in some cases, took a lingering toll.

Godfrey later wrote that in coming weeks army doctors pronounced several soldiers unfit for duty. Their lack of fitness stemmed from mental or emotional strain, not physical causes. One soldier shot himself less than a month after the battle (the cause was attributed to lingering physical illness and strain resulting from time he had suffered in a Confederate prison camp).

Even Lieutenant Bradley the Montana Column’s Chief of Scouts, requested leave after the battle. Little is recorded, but it appears to have been due to effects of what he encountered at the Little Bighorn. Bradley had served through the entire Civil War and in conflicts along the Bozeman Trail. (See Bradley’s Little Bighorn Body
Count.) Many, recruits or otherwise, suffered lasting trauma in the aftermath of Custer’s disastrous demise at the Little Bighorn.

The post Little Bighorn Burial Details appeared first on Bighorn, Big Hole and Beyond.

Lieutenant James H. Bradley kept a detailed journal of the Montana Column’s expedition. He later began copying his notes into a manuscript intended for publication. Sadly, his last entry recorded in the published version was that of June 26^th – most likely due to his sudden, unanticipated death in battle the following year.

Bradley requested leave after the Little Bighorn battle, most likely due to the trauma of what he witnessed. He was the first to find the bodies of Custer’s annihilated troops; he also then oversaw much of the burial of those bodies. Bradley had also witnessed the dead from Reno’s engagement at the south end of the battle. He later wrote that their bodies had been “frightfully butchered.”

Bradley could not have been a stranger to wartime carnage. He had enlisted as a Union private at age 17 in April 1861. He had then re-enlisted, serving throughout the duration of America’s Civil War. His only hiatus was due to time in a Confederate prison camp from October 1863 until his release in March 1864. He immediately rejoined his regiment.

Bradley had also served in the 18^th U. S. Infantry starting in 1866. He had fought Sioux in Red Cloud’s War at Crazy Woman’s Fork in Wyoming Territory. It is uncertain as to whether he witnessed the aftermath of Fetterman’s annihilation in December 1866, but it appears he must have been no stranger to battle deaths, destruction and mutilation.

Whatever his need and motivation for stepping away, by July of 1876 Bradley felt compelled to write to the editor of the Helena Herald. This paper had been the first to publish the news of Custer’s destruction. In his letter Bradley detailed his need to counteract some of the sensational rumors springing out from the accounts of Custer’s demise. These included that of Rain-in-the Face supposedly having cut Custer’s heart out and danced around his body.

Bradley described his position on June 27 as being “in advance” of the column due to his duties as Commander of the Scouts. He noted that the body of a horse first drew his attention to the field of Custer’s final stand (Comanche, perhaps?), and he went on discuss the “appalling sight” of “his entire command in the embrace of death.” Bradley noted an initial hasty count revealed 197 bodies.

A later count of the bodies buried on that portion of the field yielded a total of 206 bodies buried. An army engineer took note of burial locations, presumably mapping them with some type of survey coordinates. Cavalry rolls noted around 212 officers and enlisted members of Custer’s five troops. The discrepancies might be explained.

At least two members had been sent off with dispatches to Benteen’s battalion, and two others fell back when their exhausted horses gave out, at least according to their later accounts. They later joined Reno’s command where it came under siege.

The bodies of Lt. James “Jack” Sturgis and Lt. James Porter were never found, but garments marked with their names indicate they had not survived. A pair of bloodied “drawers” marked ‘Sturgis, 7^th Cavalry,’ were later found down in the abandoned village site, and Porter’s buckskin jacket was also found, with two bullet holes in it.

The severed heads of at least two soldiers, and possibly as many as four, were found in the abandoned village.  Thus, the discrepancies seem justified.

(It might be noted that Sturgis was the son of Colonel Samuel Sturgis, who was Custer’s immediate 7^th Cavalry superior. The two had clashed previously, and General Sheridan had assigned Sturgis to desk duty while giving Custer field command. Sturgis long held Custer responsible for the death of his son and others. The popular Black Hills, SD city is named for him.)

By dusk on June 26^th, General Terry and Gibbon’s command had stopped several miles short of the battle site. They had encountered large numbers of hostile warriors and dared not proceed in the dark. The warriors, numbering in the hundreds and maybe thousands, were acting as a rear guard for their families as the huge gathering dispersed.

Gibbon’s men still hesitated to believe the Crow scouts’ account of Custer’s unthinkable defeat. (Four Crow scouts, along with mixed-blood guide/interpreter Mitch Bouyer, had gone with Custer after he had sent Reno’s battalion to attack the village’s south end. Bouyer released the Crows after Custer had circled northward to attack separately.) Due in part to language barriers and more to soldiers’ inability to believe defeat was possible, they still could not imagine finding Custer and his troops dead.

No extra motivation was needed, however, to get the command moving on the 27^th. Gibbon later mentioned a “hurried breakfast of hardtack, bacon and coffee. The scouts rode out readily, with Bradley’s detachment crossing the Little Bighorn and scouting the ridges on its east side.

In his 1877 article Colonel Gibbon wrote, “. . . the officer in charge of the mounted infantry (scouting detachment) rode up to where General Terry and I sat upon our horses, and his voice trembled as he said, “I have a very sad report to make. I have counted one hundred and ninety-seven dead bodies lying in the hills!”

Gibbon and Terry had been looking toward some unidentifiable objects far to the south and wondering what they might be. Even field glasses failed to yield an accurate identification. However, after hearing the shocking reality that Custer’s annihilation was true, Gibbon sought to confirm the hope that part of his command had survived elsewhere.

After the deception by hostiles dressed in the uniforms of dead cavalrymen, hope was tempered by hard lessons and near ambushes (Lt. DeRudio had also been deceived in that way after being left behind by Reno’s fleeing troops.) Gibbon and Terry remained skeptical of any forms that first appeared to be white soldiers. Reno’s troops were only cautiously optimistic too.

Finally, at length, members of both commands approached each other while practicing due caution. Upon each command’s confirming that the other was “friendly,” a joyful reunion was made. Many shed shocked tears of disbelief at the report that Custer’s men were all dead. They felt great relief, though, knowing they were now safe and the overwhelming hordes of hostiles had left.

Animals had suffered, along with the troops, especially those that had been wounded. Men, horses and mules could now access the clear-flowing river 600 yards below Reno’s siege position on the bluffs. However, aftershocks from Custer’s defeat continued.

As mentioned earlier. Lt. Bradley requested leave after his gruesome experience of first finding the bodies of Custer’s men. He had also guided Captain Benteen to the site and accompanied him in identifying as many bodies as they could. His need to step away was understandable, but he was not so disturbed that he could not write publicly to correct rampant rumors.

After their deaths on the hot afternoon of June 25^th, the bodies had bloated in the searing sun. They had then lain in a light rain, then decomposed further throughout June 26^th. By the time they were found on June 27^th, most bodies – even those not mangled or mutilated – were difficult to recognize. By the time of their hasty burial on June 28^th, most were putrefying horribly.

Such was the fate of those who died, and those who had the gruesome task of burying their remains on the hills that overlook the Little Bighorn.

The post Lt. Bradley’s Little Bighorn Body Count appeared first on Bighorn, Big Hole and Beyond.

After a full day’s march on June 24 (roughly 28 miles), Custer allowed his command to rest. They would then mount up for a night march at 11:30 p.m. Troop commanders, however, got very little rest; Custer called them to a meeting at 9:30. His plan was to rest out of sight June 25^th and attack at dawn June 26^th against the huge gathering of hostiles he had been trailing.

After General Sheridan’s impossible edict that all tribes must report to reservations by January 31^st, Sitting Bull had summoned all Sioux and Cheyenne tribes to gather in that area of the Powder, Tongue and Rosebud drainages. Non-treaty bands were more motivated to do so after General Crook’s failed March 17^th attack along the Powder River. Many had left reservations to join the huge gathering.

After the night march beginning just before midnight June 24^th and halting at 2 a.m. June 25^th, Custer’s troops remained concealed in a large ravine. Meanwhile his scouts trudged through the darkness to a promontory known as the Crow’s Nest. It gave them a view across much of the Rosebud drainage but also much of the Little Bighorn. At dawn they spotted the village Custer sought.

After briefing his officers around 8 a.m., Custer ascended to the Crow’s Nest to see what his scouts had found. The events were detailed in previous posts. However, in Custer’s absence more events transpired. They would set in motion a series of dire decisions and results.

During the night a mule had lost a pack containing hardtack rations. Custer had sent a detail to retrieve it. Upon reaching it they found two Indians investigating it or possibly enjoying its contents. The Indians fled, but the regiment’s presence had been revealed.

Another small group of “hostiles” was seen by the scouts near the head of the ravine. All hopes of secrecy seemed lost. Worse, when warned of the soldiers approach, the whole village might scatter. While some scouts had advised Custer not to attack, others told him he must do so right away. Custer changed his plans, choosing the latter.

Riding down Ash Creek toward the village, the command passed a lone tepee at a recent camp site. It held the body of a dead warrior, likely one wounded eight days prior against Crook. Custer soon detached Captain Benteen with three companies, directing him to sweep southward, preventing escape that way. He was to attack any hostiles he found.

When scout Fred Girard spotted a group of hostiles moving away from the command, he and Custer thought they were fleeing. Custer detached Major Reno with three more companies. Reno was to charge in and attack. Custer told him he would be supported by the whole regiment.

Custer moved northward, planning to hit the village from its other end. It appears terrain forced him farther north than intended. Still, he did not reach the camp’s north end. As Custer gained more information, however, he sent messengers to recall Benteen’s troops. Trumpeter John Martin, one of the messengers, related that Custer meant to send Benteen into the camp’s middle while Custer attacked from the north.

For some inexplicable reason, Reno stopped his advance when he saw warriors in his front. Several survivors mentioned dust clouds that obscured vision on that hot, chaotic afternoon. Maybe Reno was confused by them. Regardless, he dismounted his troopers, forming a skirmish line.

Every fourth trooper became a horse holder, holding the reins of four mounts while the quartet’s other three soldiers fought. Reno’s three companies numbered at most 150 men. By dismounting his troops, Reno reduced his already small fighting strength by 25%. Worse, he fell back into a stand of timber, then gave confusing commands. He finally conceded all initiative to the defenders when he led a headlong retreat away from the village he had been directed to charge.

Benteen had found nothing to justify continuing southward with his troops. He turned back toward where he had detached from the command. Soon he was met first by Daniel Kanipe and then by bugler John Martin. Both bore orders for Benteen to join Custer. However, he had no idea where Custer had gone.

En route back toward their parting place, Benteen saw soldiers fighting on the flood plain and more fleeing up nearby bluffs. A scout directed him toward where Reno was regrouping. Benteen had no idea which soldiers he was joining, but he found Reno disconcerted and flustered. Reno directed him to stay and help him reorganize. During this time both Benteen and the soldiers in the bottom heard heavy firing two miles or more downriver.

After leaving Reno, Custer had topped some tall hills and had finally gained a partial view of the village. It appears that either he, or a detachment, rode down to a ford near the village. Accounts, again, are many and varied. Archaeological evidence has indicated the position of troops as they moved over time, but it cannot definitively show that troops reached the river.

Some Indian accounts state that a group of soldiers entered the river. One in particular states their leader was shot midway across and soldiers around him either helped him stay mounted or placed him back on his horse. The soldiers then turned back.

It is uncertain in which order deployments were made then. Both archaeological and Indians’ anecdotal evidence indicate that some troops were deployed tactically. The timing is difficult to pin down precisely.

After Reno’s threat was neutralized as he was driven to the bluffs, warriors learned of the second attack by Custer. They swarmed away from “Reno Hill” and northward to meet this second threat. Some accounts say Hunkpapa chief Gall directed many of them up a ravine below and to the south of the troops. At the same time Crazy Horse is said to have led many warriors across the river and to the north and east of Custer’s troops.

In effect, Custer himself was attacked from all sides by hordes of warriors. Many of them were hidden by the roll of the ridges and the ravines. They were able to stay largely out of sight, making poor targets for Custer’s troopers.

At the same time the warriors were able to arc arrows into massed troops. At some point, various charges and counter-charges were made by both forces.  In the end many warriors apparently circled as they completed the surround.

Multiple accounts say some warriors could not even join the fight for fear of shooting their allies. In the confusion, as least one Sioux or Cheyenne was killed by an ally who thought he was one of Custer’s scouts.

Some say if Reno and/or Benteen had ridden immediately to Custer’s aid the outcome would have differed. However, Benteen lacked the benefit of history’s hindsight. Some efforts were made to proceed in Custer’s direction. By the time Benteen had bailed Reno out, any such attempt would have undoubtedly yielded the same results Custer suffered.

At the time of the battle, it was believed Custer’s five companies could take care of themselves. When a victory by him came into doubt, those besieged with Benteen and Reno were sure he had retreated northward to join Terry and Gibbon’s command. It was expected he would return reinforced and break their siege.

Custer had failed to support Reno as promised. At the same time Reno’s failure to complete a charge gave the offensive to his opponents. Having fought Crook to a standstill eight days earlier, the Sioux and Cheyenne likely had renewed confidence. With their families and way of life under attack, they fought tenaciously and effectively.

Again, prior successes might have made Custer too confident. Surprise dawn attacks had yielded predictable results. Even war parties had fled before concentrated carbine fire. They didn’t on June 25, 1876.

Sadly, for nomads wanting to preserve their free-roaming and unfettered life, that great victory would be short-lived. It marked their high-water mark as far as battles were concerned. They would be harried relentlessly. Worn out and starving, most would soon resign themselves to reservation life.

The Sioux and Cheyennes had won a victory, however, that will forever claim a prominent place in history. They had succeeded where Custer’s troops failed at the Little Bighorn.

The post How (and Why) Things Happened At The Little Bighorn June 25, 1876 appeared first on Bighorn, Big Hole and Beyond.

Among the many coincidences that surround the Little Bighorn battle are instances of premonition before the fight. Some can simply be attributed to the fact that 7^th Cavalry scouts understood the overwhelming numbers they would face. In other cases, as with Custer himself, something extraordinary appeared present.

While many, if not most of us, put little stock in coincidence and feelings, sometimes “gut feelings” coincide with reality in ways their possessors could not foresee. Those who have hunted or stalked wildlife with a camera have at times experienced what we refer to as a “sixth sense.” Whether based on reality or an unusual sixth sense, several premonitions preceded Custer’s last battle at the Little Bighorn.

Lt. Godfrey later gave two accounts involving Custer himself. Examples of his scouts also bear mention. Most of those occurred the morning of June 25^th when Custer joined them at the promontory called the Crow’s Nest. Smoke from the huge village of combined off-reservation tribes, along with its immense horse herd had been spotted. They bode ill for Custer’s attacking force.

Custer maintained he had been unable to see the village; he said more than once he did not believe it was really there. The scouts spotted signs of the village at first light, when the sun’s rays were low and direct on it. It has been postulated that by the time Custer reached their vantage point around 10 a.m., heat waves, increasing haze or other atmospheric conditions might have made it less visible from his location 15 to 20 miles off.

Custer would likely have proceeded the same way even if he’s seen the camp. Godfrey recorded that Custer estimated they would not meet more than 1,500 warriors. He had based his expectation on a count of lodge fires at an abandoned camp site on Rosebud Creek. He supplemented that figure with reports from agents regarding numbers of enrolled Indians who had left the reservations. Based on past experience, Custer was confident his regiment of roughly 700 troopers could readily handle twice its strength in “hostiles.”

Godfrey, though, described an ominous officers’ meeting at Custer’s ‘headquarters tent” the night of June 22. “This ‘talk’ of his, as we called it, was considered extraordinary for General Custer, for it was not his habit to unbosom himself to his officers. In it he showed concessions and a reliance on others; there was an indefiniable something that was not Custer. His manner and tone, usually brusque and aggressive, or somewhat curt, was on this occasion conciliating and subdued. There was something akin to an appeal, as if depressed, that made a deep impression on all present. . .”

Godfrey added, “Lieutenants McIntosh, Wallace . . . and myself walked to our bivouac, for some distance in silence, when Wallace remarked: ‘Godfrey, I believe General Custer is going to be killed.’ ‘Why? Wallace,’ I replied, ‘what makes you think so?’ ‘Because,’ said he, ‘I have never heard Custer talk in that way before.’”

Three more old village sites were passed by the command on June 23^rd, but on the 24^th the column halted at the Sun Dance site used less than two weeks prior. (A white man’s scalp, not yet dried, was found there.) Custer again called a meeting of his officers.

Godfrey described another occurrence that would seem ominous. He wrote, “. . . as we were about to separate, the General’s headquarters flag was blown down, falling toward our rear. Being near the flag I picked it up and stuck the staff in the ground, but it again fell to the rear. I then bored the staff into the ground where it would have the support of a sagebrush.”

“This circumstance mad no impression on me at the time,” Godfrey went on, “but after the battle an officer, Lieutenant Wallace, asked me if I remembered the incident. He had observed, and regarded the fact of the falling to the rear as a bad omen, and felt sure we would suffer a defeat.”

After a rest halt at sundown on the 24^th, Custer called another officers’ meeting before starting a night march as planned. He stated he intended to camp in a concealed place the 25^th and then make a surprise attack at dawn June 26^th. He halted the column at 2 a.m. the 25^th. His well-laid plans would soon go awry, however.

When Custer’s scouts spotted signs of the Sioux and Cheyenne village at daylight on June 25^th, they knew how formidable its overwhelming numbers would be. They warned Custer and tried to dissuade him from attacking with his regiment alone. Too confident, Custer would not be deterred.

When that was realized, the scouts had their own premonitions and prepared accordingly. Crow scouts began donning their finest garb. Custer asked, through interpreter Mitch Bouyer, why they were doing so. Their leader, Half Yellow Face, replied that when a warrior entered the afterlife he wanted to look his best.

The leader of Custer’s Arikara, or “Ree,” scouts had brought soil from their homeland in Dakota Territory. He began rubbing it on each of his fellow tribesmen, apparently to symbolize their return to the earth.

Bloody Knife, Custer’s favorite scout, had tried at least twice to get Custer to understand what he would go up against. He told Custer they would find enough hostiles to keep them fighting two or three days. He also said they would find more warriors than the soldiers had bullets. Back to his usual form, Custer overconfidently brushed the warnings off.

After his 2 a.m. halt, Custer was seen by Godfrey talking with his Crow and Ree scouts. He was jolted from what Godfrey described as his “reverie” in which he “wore a serious expression and was apparently abstracted” as the interpreter conveyed Bloody Knife’s “two or three days” warning. Godfrey also stated the other scouts appeared “nervous and disturbed.” Custer just chuckled and said, “I guess we’ll get through with them in one day.”

It is reported that when Custer insisted at the Crow’s Nest on moving forward with just his regiment, many of the scouts began singing their “death songs.” That is when Bloody Knife made his warning about warriors outnumbering the soldier’s cartridges. When Custer persisted, Bloody Knife looked toward the sun, bidding it a final farewell. He is said to have told Custer they would both be going home “by a road that is not familiar.”

The white scout Lonesome Charley Reynolds had experienced a painful infection in one hand. He was given the option to remain at the command’s base on the Yellowstone River but chose to go with the regiment anyway. The choice proved fateful. However, as with the various Indian scouts, he seemed to have a premonition at the Crow’s Nest. It is said that at that point he began giving away all his possessions. He died, apparently heroically, during or after Reno’s headlong retreat at the village’s south end.

Those of us who are not the least superstitious still find intriguing coincidence in much that surrounded the Little Bighorn fight. Some of the outcome looked pretty predictable to scouts who savvied overwhelming odds. Circumstances and premonitions, or “gut feelings,” like those described above seem extraordinary though. In hindsight, they did indeed prove ominous at the Little Bighorn.

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In such a scenario, a static battle, it is also easy to picture a Gatling Gun. We would imagine it firing not just dependably, but also rapidly and repeatedly, barrel after barrel. With attackers arranged in circular surrounding lines, we can easily imagine the gun swiveling, rotating, and mowing the attackers down – without hitting the fellow soldiers who also surround the knob in a tight circle.

In 1876, reality was far different. Yes, both the Montana Column and Dakota Columns brought Gatling Guns on what is called the Yellowstone-Little Bighorn Expedition. Custer declined to take them on his final campaign, however. He had good reason.

The commands had obviously seen value the guns up to that point. Decision makers somewhere in the ranks saw their potential. Even one of Custer’s troopers later stated that he felt they might have changed the battle’s outcome.

However, at the same time others found them to be a tremendous hindrance. Their journal entries bear that out. Among them are Lt. James Bradley of the Montana Column and Lt. Edward Godfrey of the 7^th Cavalry. But first, the proponent’s viewpoint.

Sergeant Daniel Kanipe, in his 1924 account, mentioned both Gatling Guns and Rodman Guns available to Custer. (Gibbon’s Montana Column had also brought two Gatlings and a “Napoleon” cannon. They must have been left as his supply base near Fort Pease.) Kanipe later mused that Custer should have brought the artillery. Both the Rodman and Napoleon were Civil War-era cannon.

Kanipe was quoted, “There’s where he made a mistake, as we see it now, because if he had had one of those Rodman guns and had fired it one time those Indians wouldn’t have stopped running yet . . . And if we’d had one of the Gatling guns there would have been a lot more survivors than me.

Bear in mind that Kanipe survived only because he had been sent with a message to Benteen’s detachment miles to the south. Upon meeting Benteen he was heard to yell something like, “We’ve got them, boys!” Kanipe did not see how Custer’s actual battle played out. However, some merit does exist in Kanipe’s notion that case shot from cannon at a distance might have changed things before warriors engaged Custer.

James Bradley’s journal reflects a different reality regarding the Gatling guns. His first reference is to a Lt. Low, who brought the two guns from the Tongue River to Gibbon’s camp near the mouth of the Rosebud. He remarks that Low arrived the night of June 22^nd “during the night.” The distance was 28 miles, and seems to have taken a great deal of time beyond what even infantry might have required if unencumbered.

Both Bradley and 2^nd Cavalry Engineer Edward McClernand wrote of the travails of getting Gatling guns up Tollock Creek and the Bighorn River to the Little Bighorn. Guns overturnd on hills and had to be uprighted, apparently. They also had to be unhitched and lowered with ropes downhill at at least one point, requiring a great deal of manpower.

Bradley referenced the Gatling battery getting separated from the column and lost during a night march. They did indeed hamper the column’s progress. At least one reference mentions the gun detail finally reaching the column’s camp around 2:00 a.m. during the march.

Gatling guns were not light or readily mobile, necessarily. They were pulled by teams of four condemned horses – in other words by mounts no longer fit for cavalry use. The required manpower as well. The Dakota Column’s battery comprised 32 men plus officers.

Gatlings were also not unfailingly dependable either. Although capable of firing up to 350 rounds per minute, they were plagued by two common nemeses: overheating and fouling. Their rapid fire would obviously heat barrels quickly. Also, they pushed solid lead bullets, which helped to foul barrels. Smokeless powder would not find common use for another 20 years; the black powder of the day also fouled barrels quickly, which led to firing issues.

It is said Custer was offered extra cavalry from Gibbon’s command but declined it. Some speculate, understandably, that Custer did not want to share the anticipated laurels with another regiment. Others concede that Custer also might have found it less efficient to include troops that were not familiar to him or his command. Godfrey later wrote, sensibly, that Terry realized dividing Gibbon’s command would have left him unduly weakened, with only a few hundred infantry men.

Historian Thom Hatch wrote that Custer initially did accept the offer of Gatling guns but changed his mind an hour later. Godfrey and others described Custer’s directives to troop commanders that they be ready to travel light and fast. He planned to pursue the “hostiles” indefinitely, even if their 15 days’ rations ran out and they had to eat their pack mules. He wanted no encumbrance, which the Gatlings obviously would have been.

Hatch credits other historians with the observation that, had Custer taken Gatling guns, they would likely have delayed his movements. In turn, other events would have played out differently. Therefore, Custer might not have died June 25, 1876, if he had been delayed by taking Gatling guns. An interesting thought.

While a long-range shelling before direct attack would likely have change Custer’s outcome, he opted not to take a Rodman or Napoleon gun. If Gatling guns had been present, no one can say what difference one or more might have made. It is feasible the cumbersome, manpower-intensive guns would have helped – assuming their crews might have escaped arrows arching their way from hidden attackers.

It is just as likely Gatling guns would not have helped Custer, even they had not delayed him and he had attacked that afternoon of June 25, 1876. No one will really know exactly how that battle transpired, or what its outcome might have been, if Custer had brought Gatling guns to the Little Bighorn.

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Pro-Custer and Anti-Custer factions existed long before his Little Bighorn demise. They had taken root during America’s Civil War. In part, Custer rose in rank quickly and others felt personal or professional jealousy. Some dislike was based on personality as well, and some was attributed to his actions.

The factions seemed to rise up in earnest, as Colonel William Graham wrote, before Custer’s body had even cooled. With that in mind, the debate over whether Custer disregarded orders or not is often based on one’s personal bias. This will be an attempt at an objective analysis.

The Question

So . . . Did Custer really disobey orders? In a word, NO. How could he? The orders General Terry gave to Custer are so ambiguous, ambivalent and open-ended that they could not possibly be disobeyed. If anything, they were written in such a way as to save Terry’s neck if anything went wrong. And it did.

The Orders

On June 22, 1876 Custer marched out with written orders as follows:

Headquarters Department of Dakota, (In the Field,)

Camp at Mouth of Rosebud River, Montana, June 22, 1876

Lt. Colonel Custer, 7ty Cavalry.

Colonel: The Brigadier-General commanding directs that as soon as your regiment can be made ready for the march, you proceed up the Rosebud in pursuit of the Indians whose trail was discovered by Major Reno as few days since. It is, of course, impossible to give you any definite instructions in regard to this movement; and were it not impossible to do so, the department commander places too much confidence in your zeal, energy, and ability to wish to impose upon you precise orders, which might hamper you action when nearly in contact with the enemy. He will, however, indicate to you his own views of what your action should be, and he desires that you should conform to them unless you shall see sufficient reason for departing from them.  He thinks that you should proceed up the Rosebud until you ascertain definitely the direction in which the trail above spoken of leads.  Should it be found (as it appears to be almost certain that it will be found) to turn toward the Little Horn, he thinks that you should still proceed southward, perhaps as far as the headwaters of the Tongue, and then turn toward the Little Horn, feeling constantly, however, to your left, so as to preclude the possibility of the escape of the Indians to the south or southeast by passing around your left flank.

The column of Colonel Gibbon is now in motion for the mouth of the Big Horn. As soon as it reaches that point it will cross the Yellowstone and move up at least as far as the forks of the Little and Big Horns. Of course its future movements must be controlled by circumstances as the arise; but it is hoped that the Indians if upon the Little Horn, may be so nearly inclosed (sic) by the two columns that their escape will be impossible. The department commander desires that on your way up the Rosebud you should thoroughly examine the upper part of Tullock’s Creek; and that you should endeavor to send a scout through to Colonel Gibbon’s column with information of the result of your examination. The lower part of this creek will be examined by a detachment from Colonel Gibbon’s command. . . [bold/italics mine]

The Conclusion

It is evident from those written orders that Terry gave Custer complete leeway, and even encouragement, to use his judgment. Even when expressing his desire for Custer to move to the headwaters of the Rosebud and Tongue drainages, he framed it as just that – a desire, not a directive. The only area in which Custer might have disobeyed is in regard to scouting upper Tullock’s Creek and sending George Herendeen to convey the findings. But Custer checked even that box.

A June 26^th Directive?

There are those who try to vilify Custer by saying some sort of “unwritten” orders or agreement existed. Some say that in the final officers’ an agreement was made setting June 26^th as a hard and fast date at which Custer and Gibbon’s commands would meet. Custer was to attack from the south, and Gibbon’s column would arrive on foot (they were mainly infantry) following the Little Bighorn.

It is documented that the topic was discussed in general terms in that meeting aboard the steamboat Far West. Major Brisbin, of Gibbon’s Montana Column, reportedly marked out and pinned a map showing roughly how far each column thought it could move in a given day. Thus June 26^th appeared to be a vague and general target date. However, no one attests that a written or verbal order to meet June 26^th ever existed.

The Views of Those Involved

In fact, multiple officers (and historians) stated how unrealistic such an order would have been. The Indians were extremely mobile and well mounted, with most households owning several horses. To think an infantry column could somehow catch them, or block and engage them in battle is ludicrous.

Lt. Edward Godfrey wrote a lengthy account years later, and he commented on other accounts. In his 1892 Century Magazine article, Godfrey notes that General Terry’s battle report contradicts his actual orders. (Terry claimed he had stated the travois trail should not be followed if it led toward the Little bighorn. His actual orders state otherwise.) Godfrey later added, “A careful perusal of orders issued to Custer will show that the General was given practically a free hand. If any supplemental instructions were given they were never revealed . . .”

Godfrey went on to state it was absurd to think two commands of 700 and 400 soldiers, respectively, could coordinate “in that open country” could . . . “hold the Hostiles for a co-operative attack.” Anyone who had seen the battlefield and its surrounding terrain knows that moving columns of soldiers and their dust clouds would have been easily visible to hunting parties, even if tribal scout were not out.

Godfrey, who served in Benteen’s troop, later attained the rank of General. His insights are invaluable. In regard to the open country, he also wrote the “country toward Tullock’s Fork was under surveillance.” It appears Custer had not failed to obey there either. His timing regarding sending Herendeen back as a courier appears his only failing. It would have changed nothing in what followed.

Bradley and Brisbin

Also, multiple officers indicated they knew Custer had leeway to attack when he deemed it appropriate. Lt. James Bradley wrote in his journal, “. . . it is understood that if Custer arrives first, he is at liberty to attack at once if he deems prudent . . .”

If, as historian Edgar Stewart believed, a New York Herald piece had come from Major Brisbin, it also reflects the other column’s understanding that Custer was free to attack at will. Its writer stated, “It was announced by General Terry that General Custer’s column would strike the blow.” [bold and italics mine, both quotes]

Private William O. Taylor

Private William O. Taylor, who rode with Reno, wrote an invaluable account that was not published until 1996. He included, “General Custer, with the Seventh Cavalry and scouts, was to take up the trail Major Reno had found and follow it, to some conclusion. . . The question as to whether General Custer fully obeyed these instructions has been extensively debated . . . In his official orders General Custer was given a certain latitude of action.” [again, bold and italics mine]

A Sliver of Doubt

In fairness, Taylor also mentions specific instructions. He questioned whether Custer was justified in all his actions, but he deferred to the views of those in higher rank. He offered no opinion of his own.

In his account published in 1877, Colonel Gibbon did allude to a discussion of the troops meeting “the third day.” However, even if Custer had waited until the 26^th to attack, Gibbon’s column would not have been there. Gibbon’s command finally approached the battlefield and abandoned village at evening on the 26^th. Their presence was well known (hence the abandoned village.) No “hostiles” would have fled their way or remained stationary to be attacked.

What We Do Know

This much is known: Custer did not follow the trail into the Little Bighorn drainage until he realized his troops’ presence was known. Troopers including trumpeter/orderly John Martin stated Custer had planned to rest his troops and not attack until June 26^th. (A surprise dawn attack was far preferable than the afternoon action Custer settled for.)

When Custer realized “hostiles” had seen his troops, he felt compelled to attack early for fear the hostiles would flee and disperse. Had the large gathering dispersed, the months-long campaign would have failed. Had “the hostiles escaped,” as Godfrey wrote, “who would have shouldered the blame?”

While Custer’s judgment is subject to question, it strongly appears he did not disobey orders. It was other factors, still discussed and debated, that led to his demise at the Little Bighorn.

The post Did Custer Disobey Orders? appeared first on Bighorn, Big Hole and Beyond.

A Reporter Riding Along

General Alfred Terry had been sent in charge of the Dakota Column. Lieutenant Colonel Custer had angered President Grant. Initially he was denied permission to go. However, with support from his Civil War superiors and mounting political pressure, the popular Custer was finally allowed along.

While admonishing Custer, Commanding General of the Army William T. Sherman ordered Terry not to take reporters, “who always make mischief.” Kellogg came anyway. The Bismarck Daily Tribune benefitted, along with the New York Herald. Kellogg, a stringer for both newspapers, did not.

A Prophetic Preamble

Kellogg is best known for his classic lines to the Tribune, “We leave the Rosebud tomorrow and by the time this reaches you we will have met and fought the red devils, with what result remains to be seen. I go with Custer and will be in at the death.” [italics added]  In hindsight those words ring poetic, prophetic and ominous.

The Bismarck Tribune’s editor agreed. It led off its astounding July 6, 1876 extra with Kellogg’s prophetic words. Word of Custer’s unthinkable defeat and annihilation had just reached Bismarck the night of July 5^th when the steamboat Far West arrived bearing the battle’s wounded.

A Phantom Telegraph?

Oddly, several writers overlook the obvious; they ignorantly state that Kellogg telegraphed his last dispatch to the Tribune. Nothing could be farther from the truth. One of the distinct challenges of Custer’s last campaign was the lack of telegraph wires or other efficient forms of communication.

In fact, the entire campaign was hampered by that distinct challenge. Three military columns had all been sent to seek out and attack non-reservation Indians, viewed as “hostiles,” in the Powder, Tongue, and Bighorn River region. No command really knew the others’ whereabouts most of the time.

The three “converging” columns were effectively unable to communicate. In fact, Reno was within roughly 40 miles of General Crook’s Wyoming Column at the time of the Rosebud Battle. Reno went north up Rosebud Creek while Crook was attacked and turned back south.

The communication challenge was two-fold. First, couriers had to ride miles and days through lands teeming with hostile Sioux and Cheyenne. The closest telegraphs were at Fort Abraham Lincoln, Fort Ellis, or Fort Fetterman respectively. These posts lay 200 to 300 miles or more from the Powder River, Rosebud, and Bighorn drainages.

Any telegram would had to be sent by courier back to one of the forts. Then, the messages were telegraphed to the Department Headquarters in Chicago or St. Paul – or at best to whichever fort might served as the recipient’s home base. Then that message must be relayed by courier out to the officer for whom it was intended.

Any reply would require that the process be reversed. Return messages then had to be taken back by courier to the nearest fort, then telegraphed to the recipient’s home fort. Another courier then had to relay it to its recipient at an unknown location.

All of that to say that Kellogg’s final dispatch was hardly telegraphed. He had to send his missives downriver by whatever boat might be travelling that way. His previous dispatch, dated June 12, had been dropped into the Yellowstone River with an entire mail bag of mail while being loaded onto the steamboat Josephine. Some diligent souls spent an entire night opening letters and messages, then spreading them out and drying them by a fire.

Slow News Days

Kellogg had chronicled parts of the column’s travels and experiences thus far. However, he had relatively little to report. In more than 300 miles of marching, patrolling and scouting, the Dakota Column had not seen a single Indian – except their own Ree scouts.

That was about to change. It might be understandable that most in the command were eager for some action. In fact, Gibbon’s column held the same anticipation, which would soon turn to disappointment.

Kellogg’s final dispatch, hand-written, described the changing terrain and natural history. He even commented on how ripe the Rosebud drainage looked for “economic” development. He castigated Reno and praised Custer. It might well have appealed to Bismarck Tribune readers.

Aside from that, Kellogg had no action to report – except that he planned to march out with Custer’s 12 cavalry troops, and that he expected they would find “hostiles” and fight them. He expected to be “in at the death.” He neglected to specify whose death.

At The Death?

Kellogg’s words “at the death” ring poetic. Several writers have noted that they are an expression used previously in fox hunts. Apparently those who rode fancy horses and chased foxes with hounds strove to finish the fox and be “at the death.”

The expression, interestingly, was used by two other members of that campaign. In his journal, also on June 21, Lt. James H. Bradley expressed frustration and disappointment when he wrote, “. . . it is understood that if Custer arrives first, he is at liberty to attack at once if he deems prudent. We have little hope of being in at the death [my italics], as Custer will undoubtedly exert himself to the utmost to get there first and win all the laurels for himself and his regiment. . .”

In his excellent book Custer’s Luck historian Edgar Stewart noted a New York Herald article printed July 8,1876 amidst the battle’s aftershocks. The piece mentions General Terry’s meeting with his higher-ranking officers. It then states, “It was announced by General Terry that General Custer’s column would strike the blow and General Gibbon and his men received the decision without a murmur. There was great rivalry between the two columns and each wanted to be in at the death. . .” [italics mine]

Stewart stated the article was written by a member of Gibbon’s command. He believed Major James Brisbin was likely the source. Brisbin led the 2^nd Cavalry troops that were combined with infantry under Gibbon. Brisbin was noted for some published writings. Given the duplicated wording and Bradley’s literary bent, however, it seems he also could have been the source.

Regardless, the repeated use of “at the death” makes Kellogg’s final dispatch and others stand out stark and ominous. Four days later, on June 25, 1876 Kellogg would be in at his own death at the Little Bighorn.

Remains and Relics

Gibbon’s troops would arrive, somewhat as predicted, to deal with the aftermath. When combing the battlefield for survivors or corpses, Gibbon’s men found Kellogg’s body well below most of Custer’s dead. It lay and closer to the Little Bighorn near a ravine where others had apparently attempted to escape.

It is unknown if Kellogg was killed there early in Custer’s advance, or in a later attempt to flee. His body, curiously, had been stripped. He had been scalped, and an ear was missing (given his ‘mutton-chop’ whiskers, perhaps one of those had been scalped away, as Lt. W.W. Cooke’s had been.)

Kellogg could be identified only by his civilian clothes and the unique boots he wore. They had an unusual strap that buckled over the arch, and they had not been taken.

Some of Kellogg’s belongings had been left back at a supply base at the Powder River. They now belong to the North Dakota State Historical Society and may be displayed in its museum. A notebook of Kellogg’s is also there, but it holds no entries past June 9, 1876. It is unknown if the notebook was found near his body or had been left behind.

Kellogg’s Legacy

The Bismarck Tribune was in close cahoots with the New York Herald. Even in death Kellogg helped the Herald sell countless copies. In an earlier Kellogg bio it was noted that the New York Herald’s publisher helped Kellogg’s two daughters financially, along with the aunt who had taken them in. In the end, maybe being “at the death” did benefit Kellogg in some way, as his lifeless body rested near the Little Bighorn.

EXTRA: THE BIG SKY SCOOP

News of Custer’s defeat had reached Bozeman, MT via courier on July 3rd. Due to telegraph wires being down, a stringer instead sent the dispatch to Helena, but not before the Bozeman Times ran an ‘extra’ at 7 p.m. on July 3^rd. The Helena Herald received the report on July 4^th and ran its astounding ‘extra’ that evening. It also sent the new by wire to the Associated Press in Salt Lake City.

The steamboat Far West, bearing Reno and Benteens’ wounded survivors reached Bismarck the night of July 5,1876 on the heels of America’s first centennial celebration. The New York Herald then got the news by telegraph and published it on July7. It followed up with several reports, including the letter above.) Other papers had gotten the AP report, but the New York Herald ran ongoing reports for more than a week, due to its Bismarck Tribune connection.

The post “At The Death:” Reporter Mark Kellogg’s Final Dispatch: (“I Go With Custer . . .”) appeared first on Bighorn, Big Hole and Beyond.

Life-saving Assignments

Dutifully, Godfrey checked in only after ensuring his troop was duly prepared. As a result he was assigned to the rear, along with the regiment’s mule train. It saved his life. Those who went ahead with Custer – and many who went with Major Reno – died at the Little Bighorn.

It appears the designation of orderlies followed a similar process. On June 25^th trumpeter John Martin was designated as the colonel’s Orderly of the Day, or one of several. As with Godfrey, it saved his life.

Developing Battle Plans

Custer divided his command as he approached the sought-after village of “hostiles” on the afternoon of June 25^th. First he sent Benteen, the regiment’s senior captain, with three troops sweeping southward. He was to ensure the command would not miss hostiles encamped or fleeing in that direction. The regiment’s pack mules lagged behind under the protection of a single cavalry company.

Custer then detached Major Reno with a second battalion of three troops. Reno was ordered to proceed as fast as he could and charge into the encampment’s south end. Tall hills and bluffs obscured the village from Custer’s view, so he did not yet realize its exact location or extent. He told Reno he would support him with the whole regiment.

After separating northward from Major Reno’s attack, Custer topped a hill and saw more of the village and its layout along the Little Bighorn. However, he saw only a portion of the village. He did not fully realize what he was up against (despite repeated warnings from his scouts that they would face an overwhelming force.) Custer saw enough to make him realize he needed Benteen’s battalion to complete his developing battle plan. He wanted more ammunition too.

Misconstrued Call For Cartridges

Some writers construe Custer’s call for ammunition as a sign of desperation. History, including Martin’s later account, show it was more an afterthought. Troopers carried 50 rifle rounds in their ammunition belts and 100 more in saddle bags. They also carried 24 revolver rounds apiece. Custer’s message was not sent under duress.

Martin’s Account

Trumpeter Martin’s written account nearly 50 years later provides some of the best insight into Custer’s plans and intentions. As Custer’s orderly, Martin rode within a few yards of Custer until detached with a message for Benteen. Martin heard and witnessed most of the orders as they were given out. They reveal a great deal.

Martin states Custer told Reno he would have Benteen hurry northward and attack the village’s center. Custer would “drive them” (the hostiles) from the north.

Martin’s account is included, along with numerous others, in Colonel William A. Graham’s tremendous resource book “The Custer Myth, A Source Book of Custeriana.” The only caveat is that Martin was an Italian immigrant who had just arrived in America two years prior. His difficulty with English may have caused misunderstanding of some statements, or miscommunication of others. (He referenced that in regard to his 1879 testimony in the Reno Court of Inquiry.)

Custer’s First Impressions

Martin relates that upon seeing the village Custer first noticed no warriors. He was unable to see Reno’s advance or the warriors that were rushing to meet him. Custer is said to have commented the men appeared to be asleep still in their tepees. (Some, in fact, were rising late after their large social dances the previous night.) Martin related that Custer then commented only that his command had “got them this time.” He was likely still under the impression the hostiles were fleeing.

Custer turned and yelled, according to Martin, “Hurrah, boys, we’ve got them! We’ll finish them up and then go home to our station.” Then he and Martin returned to the troops, conferred with adjutant Cooke, and proceeded another mile northward at a trot and gallop. Martin estimated they had gone three miles from where Reno was detached.

Only after reaching a ravine leading downward toward the Little Bighorn (Medicine Tail Coulee) did Custer detach Martin with his classic message to Benteen. First Custer ordered Martin to ride as fast as he could to Benteen and tell him to hurry. Martin recounts Custer’s mention of a big village and Benteen’s need to be quick – and to bring the ammunition packs.

The Historic Dispatch

Custer’s adjutant, Lt. W.W. Cooke, told Martin to wait while he hurriedly wrote the command out in a small memo book. He then tore the page out and handed it to Martin. That message is the classic, “Benteen, come on – big village – be quick – bring packs. P.S. – bring packs.” Even most casual students of the battle know of it.

Martin related that his horse was fatigued, but he rode as fast as he was able over the troops’ back trail. He was fired on by a small group of warriors and was thankful he was not hit. He realized only later that a round had hit his horse. He related that when he topped the hill where he and Custer first surveyed the village, he could now see Reno’s skirmish line as it fell back under attack.

Boston Custer had left his brothers’ battalion earlier when his horse “played out.” He had gone back to the pack train in order to obtain a replacement. Martin met him near the high hill. Boston asked where the “general” was, and Martin directed him northward. Boston’s body was later found near those of his brothers. Under orders to hurry, Martin continued south.

Martin’s Message

Finally locating Benteen, Martin conveyed his message. Benteen asked, “Where’s the General now?” Martin relates he replied they had seen Indians running and he believed by that time Custer had charged through the village. That information undoubtedly played into Benteen’s subsequent course of action. Reno would soon appear far more in need of help than Custer did at that time.

Martin belonged to Benteen’s company and was directed to stay with it. That order also helped preserve his life. He remained with Reno and Benteen’s combined forces under siege for two days but survived. He related an attempt to move the forces in Custer’s direction once they had reorganized (despite the challenge of caring for wounded troopers). Overwhelming numbers of Indians prevented the move, and the besieged forces fell back. They believed Custer had withdrawn northward to join Terry and Gibbon’s column.

Background and Military Career

Born Giovanni Martini in Rome in 1851, Martin had been a drummer boy in the Army of Liberation by age 14. By 1866 he apparently served as a soldier against Austrians in Italy’s armed conflict. He came to America in 1873 and soon enlisted in the U.S. Army. He was assigned to Benteen’s H Company, 7^th Cavalry in time to experience its Black Hills Expedition. His name was “Americanized” to John Martin.

A Grateful Immigrant

A grateful immigrant, Martin served out a 30-year army career. He is said to have taken pride in his service and in the fact that his two sons both served honorably too. He admired Custer and even named a son for him. Army lawyer Col. William Graham noted Martin donned his old uniform for years and never missed a chance to “honor the Stars and Stripes.”

Martin retired to New York City in 19004 and worked as a subway ticket agent for years, dying in 1922. His long and productive life were made possible because he had been designated for orderly duty. They were ensured when Custer detached him with a classic dispatch at the Little Bighorn.

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General Alfred Terry, leading the Dakota Column, had sent Reno out on June 10. Reno had directions to scout up the Powder River drainage. He was to move westward down Mizpah Creek, then ascend Pumpkin Creek to the Tongue River and descend the Tongue to the Yellowstone. He followed only a part of those orders.

Reno was to ensure no hostiles lurked in the Powder and Tongue River drainages. Taking six cavalry companies and the mixed-blood scout Mitch Bouyer, he was provisioned with 10 days’ rations and forage. Perhaps due to Bouyer’s influence, he became sidetracked. Bouyer, with Lt. James Bradley, had observed a large Sioux village on Rosebud Creek several weeks earlier.

Reno barely touched the Tongue drainage, potentially leaving hostiles to attack the column from behind. Worse, he disobeyed Terry’s orders to stay out of the Rosebud drainage. The entire campaign’s effort could have been jeopardized if Reno’s detachment had been detected. The large gathering of hostiles would have dispersed.

It is noted that Custer strongly believed, like others, that no hostiles remained in the drainages east of the Rosebud. However, true to his nature, he wished to lead the mission. Historian Edgar Stuart noted Custer had already led a fruitless scouting foray on the Little Missouri. Some writers speculate that General Terry wanted to spread assignments out in order to avoid showing favoritism.

Regardless, it undoubtedly chafed Custer to see the assignment go to his rival and subordinate. He and Reno had never liked each other. Custer would soon get his chance, though, with all 12 companies of his 7^th Cavalry Regiment.

In the open, un-timbered terrain, Reno apparently felt he could see down into enough of Mizpah Creek to warrant bypassing it. He then scouted little of the Tongue, instead taking up a heavy lodgepole trail made by a large number of Indians and their ponies pulling travois, or pony-drags. He followed it well into the Rosebud Creek drainage, then backtracked and followed the Rosebud down to the Yellowstone.

Terry had specifically directed Reno to avoid Rosebud Creek. Upon learning Reno’s flaunting of his orders he fumed. He was concerned that Reno’s relatively small force would merely tip off the large, multi-tribe gathering that his column sought to locate. It is hinted that he would have arrested and Court-martialed Reno had he not been the regiment’s only major.

At least one writer states that Terry suspected Reno had hoped to best Custer, his superior officer, whom he despised. Custer was also indignant at Reno’s half-way attempt to follow the moving hostiles. He too was concerned Reno had spoiled the regiment’s chances for a surprise attack.

In a letter to his wife, however, Custer lamented that Reno had come so close but had failed to attack. He decried the waste of time. Custer also rued what, to him, was a missed opportunity. That mindset toward Reno’s best course of action might explain Custer’s own upcoming decisions (More on that topic to come.)

It should be noted that even General Sheridan, in Chicago, had no real expectation that a mobile bunch of nomads could be trapped and crushed between even two converging columns, much less three. Edgar Stewart, among others, noted that each column was believed capable of attacking and defeating any hostiles alone.

Reno’s junket bore little direct result. He had seen no Indians. However, the fact that he had seen a wide and heavy travois trail brought impending results – or consequences. The fact that he had disobeyed orders and potentially compromised the column’s mission made things even more urgent.

A lot legend and folklore exist regarding Custer’s personality and motives. Perpetuated by Hollywood and the “dime novel” mentality, these conceptions have muddied the waters. However, objective historians can agree that Custer was impetuous, audacious and exuberant if nothing else. Reno’s report could have served only to stoke those fires.

With Custer, General Terry moved the command to their designated meeting place near the  mouth of the Tongue River during Reno’s absence. Messengers brought him news of Reno’s prodigal return down the Rosebud. After a hard march on June 20^th the regiment reunited. New plans were made based on Reno’s report.

It was noted by General Terry that Reno’s horses and pack mules were “tired and badly spent.” The existing plan had been for Custer to take nine companies back up the Tongue River on Reno’s return and then scout down the Rosebud drainage. All that changed, however, based on Reno’s report. All twelve companies would ascend the Rosebud.

The condition of mounts and mules in Custer’s last contingent has been the topic of much speculation. It may be that the animals’ fatigued condition played a role in the mission’s outcome.

On June 22 Custer set forth with all 12 companies of the 7^th Cavalry. Presumably, he was already worried that Reno’s abandoned travois trail was growing colder. He would have set out with an underlying urgency that must have colored his upcoming decisions. That urgency would be compounded two days later when it Custer realized his command’s presence had been discovered.

Had Reno obeyed his orders, Custer’s actions would likely have not been much different. He would have found the lodgepole trail when he reached the Rosebud, and he would have locked onto it like a bloodhound. Even his letters bear out that he planned to pursue the hostiles, once on their trail, even if his rations ran out and the regiment had to eat their mules.

Regardless, the result of Reno’s scout and report can be said to have reaped one result. They threw fuel on the fires that would lead to destiny on the Little Bighorn.

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