The Last Days of George Armstrong Custer

by Thom Hatch

  Before too many miles on the march, George Armstrong Custer decided to relieve Benteen and take the advance himself, as was his customary position. He always wanted to personally be the first to know what was ahead and the first to engage in a fight.

  At about noon, without any sign of the enemy, the Seventh Cavalry paused at the head of Reno Creek. They were now in full attack mode, and a battle was imminent. Custer conferred briefly with his adjutant, William Cooke, before issuing orders for the regiment to separate into three battalions.

  Captain Frederick W. Benteen was assigned companies D, H, and K—about 125 men. Benteen’s battalion was detailed on a reconnaissance to the west along a series of ridges that overlooked the Little Bighorn River for the purpose of thwarting an Indian escape in that direction. Benteen was also told to pitch into any Indians he might happen upon. Custer was worried that the Indians from the village would try to run in that direction to escape when the troopers appeared on the scene. Benteen was told to catch up later with the main column farther down Reno Creek.

  Major Marcus A. Reno would command a battalion consisting of companies A, G, and M—about 140 men. Reno led his column of men in a southerly direction toward the supposed location of the village while he awaited further orders.

  The third battalion would consist of two detachments that would remain under Custer’s direct control. The Irish soldier of fortune Captain Myles W. Keogh would command companies C, I, and L and Custer’s friend from Monroe, Michigan, captain George Yates, would lead E and F—about 225 total men.

  Captain Thomas M. McDougall was placed in charge of security for the pack train, which consisted of his Company B, the escort of troopers from various companies, and the civilian packers—about 85 men. Frenchman First Lieutenant Edward G. Mathey, Company B’s second-in-command, would command the pack train.

  Benteen and his battalion veered off to the left as the remainder of the regiment—with McDougall’s pack train quickly falling behind—marched toward the suspected location of the village.

  The sun-baked terrain that spread out before Custer and his men was a frustrating and deceptive landscape of ravines and crevices that cut through grassy rolling hills that sharply plunged into deep valleys. The tree-lined Little Bighorn River lay somewhere down below, but just when they thought they would lay eyes on it another bluff would rise up before them to obscure the view. Custer desperately wanted to observe the village and its position along the river with his own eyes in order to have a better idea of formulating a plan of attack. But even Lieutenant Varnum and the Indian scouts who rode ahead of the column were unable to distinguish their objective.

  The column rode eight miles more before halting when they came upon an abandoned village site. This village they called Lone Tepee had signs of fresh occupancy, but only one tepee with the body of a dead warrior from the Rosebud battle lying inside was still standing.

  The Arikara scouts were setting fire to the tepee as scout Frederic Girard (aka Gerard, the Canadian spelling of his name), who had a Canadian father and an American mother, galloped up on his black stallion waving his hat. He had been scouting from a nearby knoll when he observed billows of dust that signified to him an enemy that was retreating in the face of the approaching soldiers. “Here are your Indians, General!” Girard shouted. “Running like devils.”

  Indeed, great plumes of dust could be observed rising from beyond the distant hills. Custer understood that he must act immediately or his enemy would vanish into the landscape. The regiment was quickly moved another two miles before halting on a fork of Reno Creek.

  It was here that First Lieutenant William W. Cooke, Custer’s trusted adjutant, carried orders from George Armstrong Custer to Major Marcus Reno for an action that would open hostilities in the June 25, 1876, Battle of the Little Bighorn.

  Reno was directed to move rapidly forward down the valley toward the village “and charge afterward, and you will be supported by the whole outfit,” or words to that effect. Numerous bystanders—including Reno’s subordinate officers such as Myles Moylan and Thomas French—claimed to have heard Cooke relay the orders, and each version was basically the same other than the specific verbiage. Reno had his orders—charge into the village with his battalion.

  Major Reno’s three companies immediately trotted away and crossed the creek a short distance upstream from where it flowed into the Little Bighorn River. Cooke and Captain Myles Keogh rode along with Reno until the battalion paused to water the horses and adjust their gear. The two officers then returned to their duties with the main column. At that point, saddles were tightly cinched and equipment tied down and the men made sure their Colt .45s and Springfield carbines were fully loaded and operational.

  Custer, watching Reno ride off, met briefly with Lieutenant Varnum, who remarked that apparently the whole valley was full of Indians. Custer suggested that Varnum, if he so desired, could take his scouts and accompany Reno. Varnum was agreeable to that idea and called to his friend First Lieutenant George “Nick” Wallace, the regimental topographical engineer, to join him with Bloody Knife and the other scouts. These men raced to catch up with Reno’s battalion.

  It was just after 3:00 P.M. on that brutally hot Sunday afternoon when Major Reno and his three companies of cavalrymen advanced on the western side of the Little Bighorn River steadily toward their objective, the huge village, which lay about two miles directly to their front.

  By this time, Custer was maneuvering his battalion onto the high ridge on the eastern side of the Little Bighorn River. From this vantage point he and his troopers could view for the first time a large portion of the Indian village. This maze of white tepees that contrasted with the blue of the river and the sky was certainly breathtaking. No doubt this was the largest village any of these men had ever seen—a full one and a half miles long and a quarter of a mile wide—along with a pony herd above the village that likely numbered twenty thousand animals.

  Custer did not know how many warriors he would be fighting, but that number would not have deterred him. He had faced an overwhelming enemy many times during the Civil War with quick and aggressive strategies designed on the spur of the moment to exploit weaknesses and had generally prevailed. He would have been aroused by the prospect of a battle but not fazed by this magnificent sight stretching out before him.

  Now that he could view the better part of the valley, he was secure in the knowledge that he had been correct with his initial plan of attack. They were certainly in for a big fight, but that was why they had come. With that in mind, he dispatched Sergeant Daniel Kanipe with orders to tell Captain McDougall to hurry the pack train, which was laden with ammunition.

  Custer turned back to the task at hand and keenly assessed the terrain ahead on the ridgeline. He intended to send the men of his battalion down the various ravines at intervals toward the river and into the village on the other side. These natural approaches to the river and the village across it were ideal routes for his purpose. Each detachment could ride down the coulee and strike at a different location along the length of the complex of tepees to wreak havoc among the Sioux and Cheyenne. It would be the knockout blow of the perfect one-two punch after Reno had struck the village with his men.

  A number of the coulees were impassable or channeled into nearby ravines that resulted in dead ends, however, so it was imperative that he choose each one wisely. Meanwhile, he would watch events unfold in the valley so as to coordinate his efforts with Reno’s charge into the south end of the village.

  Sergeant Kanipe rode off to carry Custer’s message just as Major Marcus Reno’s men thundered down the widening valley on a collision course with Sitting Bull’s village. The ground was flat and without obstacles but torn up and reduced to loose dirt by the hooves and overgrazing of the massive Indian pony herd.

  No doubt hearts and adrenaline were pumping as every man said his silent prayers as this large village rose up larger and larger as they drew closer. Reno’s cavalrymen had the field to the
mselves; the Indians had not as yet made an appearance. The excited troopers, fueled by the prospect of a fight, could not contain themselves and spontaneously began to wildly cheer—until Reno ordered them to be quiet.

  Every advantage was with Reno and his cavalrymen. Custer’s plan was working to perfection. The village had been taken completely by surprise. There was no opposition in sight. Reno could sail into the village and have his way with the unwitting occupants.

  Now, as Reno was about halfway across the open prairie to his objective his presence was noticed by the stunned occupants. The village became the scene of bedlam as this danger approached its southern end. The women had been tending to their domestic chores, while some men were sleeping, fishing, or repairing weapons and equipment when word spread that soldiers were attacking. Many of the warriors had gone out hunting and others were with the pony herd at the far northern end, and it would take some time for them to react with any effectiveness.

  According to Lakota chief Gall, whose Hunkpapa band was camped in their traditional place to guard the vulnerable edge facing Reno’s approach, orders were given to quickly strike the village and flee when they observed the troops charging. Gall and a handful of other warriors mounted their ponies and rode back and forth just outside the village to give the animals their second wind while firing wildly to try to cover the withdrawal.

  Incidentally, the presence of Custer’s command on the high ridge to the east remained unknown to Gall or the village at this time. The second part of the trap could be sprung as soon as Reno entered the chaotic village, where Custer’s men would find the vulnerable inhabitants easy targets as they ran to and fro to escape this surprise onslaught from the south.

  The cavalrymen under Major Reno steadily advanced, prepared to sweep through the village and shoot down the warriors and round up women and children prisoners. A baffling occurrence, however, was about to change the complexion of the entire battle.

  About a quarter of a mile away from the village—just a couple of minutes from its doorstep—Major Marcus Reno inexplicably aborted his charge and halted the battalion. Reno had not suffered any casualties and had faced little opposition, yet, in his first meaningful encounter with hostile Plains Indians the major had countermanded Custer’s orders and abruptly called for a halt short of his objective.

  Perhaps the dust swirls that obscured vision, or his uncertainty about Custer’s whereabouts, or simply the fear of the unknown had caused this rash decision by Reno. He must have known that he was disobeying orders, but the consequences of that act became secondary to his impetuous need for self-preservation.

  Admittedly, there were more than one thousand lodges within that village and perhaps as many as two thousand warriors in the area, but Reno wouldn’t have had any knowledge of that fact. He had not lost a man up to that point, nor had he encountered any direct contact with the enemy, and he should have known from his training that the panicked village was packing to leave.

  The question of how many warriors were present in Sitting Bull’s village was bandied about even before the smoke on the battlefield had cleared. No definitive answer has been agreed upon to this day. There has been, however, no lack of those who have speculated about the figure.

  It is known that the village had grown considerably in size from earlier in the year. Families had departed from the reservation to join their brethren for a summer enjoying the old ways—just how many would be a matter of speculation. The Indian agent would have underreported these defections in order to receive supplies for a higher number, and then dispose of the surplus with the profits going into his own pocket. An article in the Army and Navy Journal, dated October 21, 1876, states that at Standing Rock Agency “Out of 7,000 [Indians]—the basis upon which supplies have sent out by the Bureau for the last year or two—only 2,300 are now present.”

  A year after the battle, Lieutenant H. L. Scott visited the site of the village and quit counting lodge circles when he arrived at fifteen hundred. His effort proved little inasmuch as families were known to move as many as several times and each occasion left an empty circle remaining. In addition, the village also contained hundreds of wickiups—brush shelters—that would have blown away without leaving a trace.

  Estimates of the number of warriors by army personnel who either participated in the battle or examined the site ranged from twenty-five hundred to nine thousand. It might be thought that the Indians themselves could have provided an exact number of warriors, but that was not the case. Gall was unable to offer any estimate. Other Indian participants claimed between one and eight thousand. Crazy Horse said at least seven thousand were there. Nonparticipant Red Cloud set the figure at two thousand. Allegedly, Indians believed that the number was inconsequential and that anyone who counted higher than one thousand must be dishonest.

  The total number of lodges has been estimated at about one thousand, not including the small number of Arapaho, who were known to have members of their tribe in the village. It has been said that each lodge would be home to two warriors, perhaps more if the older boys were involved. Add to that the wickiups on the north end of the village that housed young warriors who did not live with their families; subtract those men who had reached “retirement” age, which was said to be sometime around their fortieth birthday.

  Whatever the exact number of warriors, it would be safe to say that their number far exceeded Custer’s troops that day by perhaps as much as five to one—odds not much different than Custer had faced in his first Civil War encounter as a general against Jeb Stuart at Gettysburg in which he had emerged victorious, as well as subsequent battles, such as Falling Waters, the Wilderness, Winchester, and Tom’s Brook.

  Gall stated that the soldiers had come so quickly that he could rally only a handful of warriors to fight to cover the hasty retreat of the village—until Reno unexpectedly stopped his charge.

  Chief Gall was no stranger to conflict with the white man. He was a physically imposing man—standing more than six feet tall and weighing over two hundred pounds—and had a reputation as a fierce warrior. He was born about 1840 along the Moreau River in present-day South Dakota. His unusual name was said to have been given him by his mother when he ate the gallbladder of an animal. He was orphaned as a child and, after proving his worthiness as a warrior, was adopted by Sitting Bull as a younger brother.

  His earliest recorded relations with the white man occurred when he was visiting friends near Fort Berthold during the winter of 1865–66. Some unknown crime had been committed, and authorities presumed that Gall was responsible—which probably was not the case. Nevertheless, a reward was placed on him, dead or alive. Soldiers from Fort Stevenson came to arrest Gall at Fort Berthold, and he attempted to escape by slashing his way through the back of his tepee. Unfortunately for him, this move had been anticipated and soldiers were stationed on the other side. Gall was said to have been bayoneted, perhaps so severely that the bayonet passed through him and a soldier had to place one foot on Gall’s chest to remove it. Some accounts claim that he was shot and stabbed numerous times. Custer scout Bloody Knife had been prepared to shoot the severely wounded Gall with a shotgun but was thwarted by an officer who believed that the Sioux warrior was already dead. Regardless of the specific circumstances, Gall was not dead when the soldiers departed. He crawled away—perhaps twenty miles through the snow—to the cabin of a friend, who nursed him back to health.

  In 1866, Gall and other Sioux warriors had joined Red Cloud when war was waged with the United States Army over the intrusion of the Bozeman Trail. Gall claimed to have not signed the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, which ended those hostilities. He was possibly involved in the Sioux attacks on Custer’s Seventh Cavalry during the Yellowstone Expedition of 1873, although no confirming evidence exists.

  Now Gall would play a major role as a field commander as he rode out to delay or discourage Major Marcus Reno and his troops from entering the village while it was being packed for flight. No doubt Gall was both sur
prised and energized when Reno aborted his charge. That pause in the action permitted the Indians time to assemble a defense and subsequently to mount a counterattack on Reno. Word spread throughout the village that the soldiers were no longer charging and that the warriors should mount their ponies and ride out to protect the village.

  This sudden factor had not been included in Custer’s battle plan and the present was no time to try to amend tactics. Reno would soon find himself in a tight spot, one that he should not have had to face had he simply obeyed orders. He could only hope that the Indians would not take advantage of his misdeed or that Custer had noticed and would ride to his rescue. But Custer and his battalion were far away, high atop the hillside to the east. They would have been deployed by Custer and it would not have been an easy task or timely to assemble the command and ride to the rescue of Reno.

  Major Marcus Reno must now depend on his own devices to remove himself and his men from harm’s way or carry out his orders and head for the village. Another mistake could be fatal to the entire command.

  Eleven

  The Crimson Trail

  Those Sioux and Cheyenne warriors who rode out to meet Major Reno and his battalion were armed with weapons that ranged from primitive clubs, bows and arrows, lances, knives, and hatchets to an array of new and old firearms. They had obtained their firearms, which the Lakota Sioux called maza wakan or “holy iron,” through trade, gunrunning, or capture from enemies or from the United States government for hunting purposes in fulfillment of annuities.

  Archaeological excavations of the battlefield that began in 1983 recovered cartridge casings from at least forty-five different makes of firearms. That evidence indicated that the Indians were in possession of Spencers, Sharpses, Smith & Wessons, Evanses, Forehand & Wadsworths, Remingtons, Henrys, Stars, Winchesters, Maynards, Enfields, and, of course, many Springfields and Colt revolvers that would be taken that day from dead cavalrymen.