Two documents from 1876 expose the fatal errors that doomed George Armstrong Custer’s Seventh Cavalry. The events of June 25, 1876, are permanently etched in American history, when Custer’s regiment confronted a united force of Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho fighters at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. The engagement ended in a disastrous defeat for Custer’s troops and has been analyzed ever since. Recently uncovered letters from that same year suggest the outcome was not merely bad luck but the result of pivotal mistakes committed by key figures.
These documents shed new light on the doomed choices that sealed the regiment’s fate. The first letter was written by a journalist named Mr. Kellogg just four days before the assault. Kellogg, who was traveling with Custer’s command, would die alongside the soldiers at the Little Bighorn.
He wrote from the confluence of the Rosebud and Yellowstone rivers on June 21, 1876, describing the events leading up to the battle. According to Kellogg, little of note had happened within General Alfred Terry’s command since mid-June. A supply post had been established at the mouth of the Powder River, and the steamboat Far West had been converted into a floating supply base, carrying thirty days of rations and fodder for the troops. The steamboat then moved to the mouth of the Tongue River, with the headquarters command on board.
Custer traveled overland from the Powder River to the Tongue River, a march of roughly forty miles through the Yellowstone Valley. Nothing significant occurred during the trek, except for a display of marksmanship by Custer, who killed an antelope at four hundred yards and nearly struck several sage hens with his shots. The terrain north of the Powder River proved harsh. For twelve to fifteen miles, the ground was difficult to march over, with poor soil and little vegetation beyond sagebrush and cactus.
On June 15, the column came across an abandoned Indian campsite, likely less than a year old. The settlement stretched for over two miles and probably contained between 1,200 and 1,500 lodges. Game was scarce, and no buffalo were sighted. Kellogg described the Yellowstone River as impressive, its current swift and full of whirlpools that sounded like a soft wind moving through tall grass.
The water was a yellowish clay color, cold and pleasant to drink. He noted that the Yellowstone carried more water than the Missouri above their junction and was far better suited for steamboat travel. The Tongue River, by contrast, ran dark red, moved quickly, and was less pleasant to the taste. On June 19, Custer moved six companies of cavalry to the Tongue River, establishing a post roughly three miles from its mouth and advancing to within about nine miles of Major Marcus Reno’s camp.
Reno, commanding six companies of the Seventh Cavalry, had just returned from a scouting mission. But Kellogg reported that Reno, for reasons unclear, had not merely deviated from General Terry’s orders but had directly ignored them. Those orders, dated June 10, 1876, had directed Reno to conduct a full reconnaissance of the Powder River up to the junction of the Little Powder River. From there, he was to cross Pumpkin Creek and the Tongue River, then advance down the Tongue River to its meeting with the Yellowstone, where he was to await the rest of the Seventh Cavalry and additional supplies.
Reno’s unit was given twelve days of rations and feed. The guide Mitch Bouyer and eight Indian scouts assigned by Custer were to report to Reno for duty, and Acting Assistant Surgeon H. R. Porter was attached to his force by General Terry’s order.
Reno committed a serious error. Instead of following the planned route, he turned south from the junction of the Powder River and moved to the Rosebud River, where he found a recent and threatening Indian trail. Terry’s original plan had envisioned Reno rejoining the column in the Tongue River Valley, where Custer would prepare the regiment for a scout up the Tongue River, across to the Rosebud, and then down toward Terry. Meanwhile, Terry would travel by steamer to the mouth of the Rosebud, join forces with General John Gibbon’s command, and march up the valley until he met Custer.
Reno’s actions ruined this design. His deviation allowed the main Indian force, estimated at about 1,500 people, to escape capture. A new campaign was now underway. On June 22, Custer, with twelve companies of cavalry, was to scout up the Rosebud Valley, following the trail Reno had found, with the expectation of engaging the Indians, who were then hunting buffalo and moving unhurriedly.
Terry would travel by steamer to the mouth of the Bighorn River, scouting Pumpkin Creek along the way, while Gibbon’s forces marched up the Bighorn Valley to block the Indians if they tried to flee in that direction. Kellogg wrote that confidence was high at the time. It was believed, with what he called solid justification, that Sitting Bull’s band would be captured and dealt with appropriately. Custer’s command made a rapid march from the Tongue River to the Rosebud, crossing difficult terrain marked by sharp drops and deep gorges.
The heat was oppressive, leaving men gasping and sweating heavily, but the cavalry kept a fast pace while the steamer made its way up the Yellowstone. Kellogg observed Custer from behind in his light buckskin clothing, followed closely by the head of the column as they climbed towering ridges out of twisted ravines below. As they moved farther up the Yellowstone Valley, the landscape became more attractive. Vegetation grew thicker, including both grasses and trees.
Small islands appeared frequently, covered in dense growth whose bright green leaves hid branches reaching far out over the fast-moving yellowish water. The riverbanks were steep, the channel consistent, and the gravel bottom offered enough depth at normal low levels to allow light-draft steamers to travel from the Missouri River to the mouth of the Bighorn, a distance of nearly five hundred miles. Kellogg described the valley with an eye toward its future commercial potential, comparing the great open spaces of the West to the comparatively narrow confines of the East. Kellogg had high praise for General Terry, calling him the model of a commanding general, with a broad mind, wisdom, foresight, and calmness in every situation.
He described Terry as friendly, polite, open, and honorable, and believed his preparations were of the best possible kind. Unless his juniors ruined them through their conduct, Kellogg wrote, the campaign had to succeed. He then turned his attention to Custer, whom he called the most unusual genius in the army. He described him as a man of powerful feelings, generous friendships, and intense hatreds, with a quick, anxious disposition, fearless bravery, and relentless persistence.
Custer was, in Kellogg’s words, a courageous, loyal, and noble soldier, surrounded by close friends and fierce opponents. He was the toughest rider, the most forceful driver, and possessed an unflagging watchfulness, overcoming apparent impossibilities. His men adored him and would willingly follow him into the mouth of hell. Kellogg insisted he was not exaggerating, claiming his depiction came from direct observation and involvement.
He also praised the officers of the Seventh Cavalry as a brave and noble group, and the infantry as loyal and dependable. He judged the current campaign under Terry to be made up of the finest soldiers in the American service, including the Seventh and Second Cavalry and the Sixth, Seventeenth, Twentieth, and Seventh Infantry. He had less time to assess Gibbon’s Seventh Infantry, but described them as tough frontiersmen, mostly Scottish and Irish, serious and quiet yet valiant. He noted Gibbon himself as a brave and cautious commander who had chased the Nez Perce from the Judith Basin the previous summer with only 150 men and no losses.
Kellogg believed the best combat troops in the army served under General George Crook, made up mostly of white and Mexican soldiers in Gibbon’s command, with some Black soldiers serving alongside Crook. He trusted that Terry would capture or eliminate Sitting Bull and his people. The soldiers, he said, would gladly starve to accomplish their duty, ready to eat horse or mule and face death rather than abandon the chase. Near the end of his letter, Kellogg acknowledged the possibility of his own death.
He asked that his friends and comrades remember him kindly, considering the dangers he faced, which seemed unavoidable. He expressed honor at being part of the army and a wish to conduct himself properly. If he lived, he would continue serving his country with the same enthusiasm and resolve. If he died, he asked only that God bless and protect his family and friends.
Four days later, Custer led the Seventh Cavalry into the valley of the Little Bighorn. There, the regiment met the combined force of Lakota and Cheyenne warriors, and Custer’s command was annihilated. Kellogg died with them. The two letters he left behind, written in the final days before the battle, reveal that the disaster was not a simple stroke of chance.
Reno’s decision to abandon his orders allowed the Indian forces to slip away and regroup, forcing Custer into a hurried pursuit that ended in the worst defeat the American army would suffer in the Indian Wars. The confidence Kellogg recorded on June 21 proved tragically misplaced, and the mistakes he had seen firsthand would soon lead the Seventh Cavalry to its destruction.