The Last Days of George Armstrong Custer (23 page)

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 surprised 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.

The weapon most frequently observed and mentioned by the soldiers was the Winchester repeating rifle. This was the rifle of choice for the Indians, when they could get their hands on it. The Model 1866 Winchester fired a .44-caliber rimfire cartridge, used a two-hundred-grain bullet with twenty-eight grains of powder, had a capacity of seventeen cartridges, and was deadly accurate at a hundred yards but fell off dramatically at longer distances. The Winchester was similar to the 1860 Henry, which fired the same .44-caliber rimfire cartridge, with a 216-grain bullet and twenty-five grains of powder. The Winchester had a spring cover on the right side of the receiver, while cartridges were inserted into the front of the Henry magazine.

By the time the small defense party was organized by Gall in the village, Reno had dismounted his troopers and formed a skirmish line a few hundred yards in length across the prairie. Some of the men happened upon a convenient prairie dog colony that served as breastworks. Other than those small dirt mounds, the prairie was not an ideal location for the exposed troopers. They lay on their bellies, their rifles tucked tightly into their shoulders, and awaited orders. The horse holders, every fourth man, led the mounts away from direct harm to the protection of the underbrush by the riverbank fifty yards to the east. Reno had lost only two men whose horses had bolted and carried them into the village.

Custer, from his vantage point—which could have been down a coulee and shielded from a view of the valley by the terrain—may or may not have been aware of Reno's reckless actions. He could also have possibly noticed that the village was no longer being disassembled, which meant that the Indians, for some reason, intended to stand and fight. He likely headed north and west at a trot, halting his command a short distance down Cedar Coulee.

Custer, now able to gauge the size of the village from a closer perspective, dispatched orderly Private John Martin with a hastily scribbled order written by adjutant William Cooke to locate Captain Benteen and urge the captain to hurry his troops and bring the ammunition packs with him.

At about this point in time, Reno's men may have thought they observed Custer on the ridge watching them and then waving his hat before moving on, or it could have been a straggler or a messenger. This soldier could have been Sergeant Daniel Kanipe or Private John Martin, both of whom would eventually have been heading south,
away
from the battlefield to carry their messages from Custer. If it had been Custer waving his broad-brimmed hat, he assuredly was waving it toward the village to encourage Reno to carry out his orders and charge.

Back on the prairie, the ninety or so vulnerable men on Reno's skirmisher line could observe the Indians gathering, growing in numbers, and in spite of being out of range commenced firing in earnest at the village. No attempt was made by Major Reno to moderate this heavy rate of fire and ammunition, which was quickly becoming exhausted. Troopers took turns dashing to the river where the horses were tethered to grab ammo from their saddlebags and return to the line.

During this initial assault, Chief Gall claimed that two of his wives and three of his children were killed by Reno's men firing blindly into the tepees.

A group of Indians made one concerted charge toward the skirmisher line, but several volleys from the Springfield carbines discouraged them. These warriors veered off toward the river, a number of them maneuvering down the gulley toward the cavalry horses. Company G was ordered to the river to ward off this threat, which left the skirmisher line spread out much too thinly to be effective. The longer Reno's men remained exposed on the prairie the more time warriors would have to join their comrades. There would have to be some relief soon or they would be overwhelmed.

Reno was now flustered and uncertain about what course of action to undertake. Custer's battalion could not be observed anywhere in the vicinity, so the chance of reinforcements arriving was not imminent. Scout Fred Girard claimed that at this point the major drank lustily from a bottle of whisky while contemplating his next act.

Reno noticed a stand of trees some fifty yards away near a cut bank formed by the river's changing course. Either he weakly ordered a retreat to that location or the battalion simply executed one of its own accord. The men ran for their horses—and their lives—certainly thankful to be away from that exposed position on the prairie.

Contrary to military standard operating procedure, no tactical covering fire was employed for this impulsive movement that led the battalion to a crescent-shaped stand of timber—some twenty-five yards wide—near the river. Firing by the soldiers had almost ceased during this mad dash, and the Indians took advantage of that by rushing out of the village in numbers and surrounding this new wooded position.