Lt. Bradley’s Little Bighorn Body Count

On the morning of June 27^th General Terry and Colonel Gibbon’s command set forth with little delay. They had been informed by the Crow scouts of Custer’s annihilation. They had also been informed that part of Custer’s command was hanging on, somewhere, and possibly under siege. They were motivated to assist.

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.