On July 4th, 1876, Lieutenant Charles Varnum sat in camp on the Yellowstone River and wrote to his parents. He was one of the few surviving officers of the Seventh Cavalry. Days earlier, the regiment had been shattered at the Little Bighorn. In his letter, he tried to explain what had happened.
The campaign had begun on June 22nd, when General George Custer took the entire regiment, roughly 605 men, along with Varnum’s squad of about 36 scouts, guides, and interpreters, and started up the Rosebud River. They followed a trail discovered by Major Reno. The first day they covered twelve miles, the second nearly thirty. Early on the third morning, they struck a heavy trail heading up the Rosebud.
About ten miles from camp they found a circle surrounded by a brush fence, arranged for a Sun Dance, a ceremony used to make warriors. A stick with a fresh scalp attached hung there, and the tracks of two or three Indians, made that morning, led away from it. They marched twenty more miles. Varnum was sent back six miles to examine a creek for signs of Indians leaving the trail.
When he returned, they pushed on another eight miles and camped in an Indian camp about two days old. The signs pointed to an immense force, and the regiment hurried to take the enemy by surprise. Custer came to speak with the scouts. Six Crow scouts with the column knew the country well.
They said the trail led toward the Little Horn, a fork of the Big Horn, and they wanted to ride ahead about twenty miles to a high bluff from which the valley of the Little Horn could be seen. Custer wanted an intelligent white man to go with them and send back information. Varnum took the six Crows, five Rees, and an old frontiersman. They marched all night, covering about sixty miles.
Varnum had ridden for thirty-six hours without rest or sleep. Custer planned to start at 11 p. m. and reach them by morning.
At 2:30 a. m. , Varnum and the scouts reached the hill and hid in the brush until daylight. When the sun rose, they spotted smoke rising from an Indian village.
By 5 a. m. , Varnum sent the Rees back with a message for Custer. The Crow scouts said they could see about two or three thousand ponies on the plain twelve miles away, though Varnum could not make them out himself.
Custer’s camp was about eight miles off. He received the message at 8 a. m. and moved his column forward, joining Varnum on the hill.
Almost immediately, two Sioux warriors were seen riding toward the column. Varnum, Charlie Reynolds, the Crow interpreter, and two Crow scouts set out to cut them off and prevent them from raising the alarm. They failed. When Custer arrived, they told him what had happened.
Custer decided to attack as soon as possible, since the command had been discovered. Around 2:30, they approached the village. Major Reno led three companies, A, G, and M, into battle. Varnum watched them charge, with Lieutenant Hare joining them.
The scouts scattered, so Varnum reported to Captain Moylan to fight with Company A. They dismounted and fought on foot near the village, but soon found themselves surrounded and outnumbered. They retreated to the woods and then made a run for the bluffs. The Indians did not pursue them aggressively.
From the bluff, they could hear intense gunfire at the other end of the village. On the bluff, the survivors regrouped. Lieutenants McIntosh and DeRudio were missing. Lieutenant Hodgson was dead.
Only five men and Lieutenant Wallace from Company G survived. More than a third of the command was lost. Then Colonel Benteen arrived with three companies, and the pack train came up with another. That gave them four full companies, the remnants of three others, and some civilians, about 300 men total.
They heard intense gunfire about two miles away and knew Custer’s five companies were engaged in a fierce battle beyond the village. They marched along the bluff to join him. After a mile, they lost sight of him, and the firing grew distant. With wounded men and a cumbersome pack train, they chose a defensive position on the bluffs, preparing to face the Indians.
The position was well chosen, with the horses sheltered in a hollow and the camp vulnerable to attack from only one direction. The battle raged until around 9 p. m. , when the firing ceased until dawn.
They fortified the position as best they could with limited tools. Throughout the next day, the Indians unleashed a relentless barrage. Men fell rapidly. The young soldiers became seasoned veterans quickly, fighting alongside the dead and wounded, surrounded by flies and maggots.
They had a hospital of about forty wounded men, protected by the ring of mules and horses around it, which had to be hit before the bullets could reach the men inside. There was no water. The men grew furious, and detachments were sent out under heavy fire to try to reach the river. Many were killed or wounded trying.
The horses suffered terribly, without water and unable to eat the oats they had. The firing ceased on the afternoon of the 26th. From the bluff, they could see the village was leaving. After dark, they moved their camp a short distance to escape the stench of the dead animals.
In the morning, the Indians were gone. The cause of their departure was soon explained. General Terry was coming to their relief with five companies of the Seventh Infantry and four of the Second Cavalry. He had seen the Crow scouts who had escaped and hurried to their assistance.
He reached them about 10 a. m. Then the sickening details were revealed in all their horror. Custer and his five companies had been exterminated.
About 300 men had been killed. Their bodies were stripped and horribly mangled. Sixteen officers had fallen, including Custer himself, Captain Keogh, Captain Yates, Captain Custer, Lieutenant Cook, First Lieutenant Smith, McIntosh, Calhoun, and Porter, and Second Lieutenants Hodgson, Harrington, Sturgis, and Riley of the Seventh Cavalry, along with Lieutenant Crittenden of the Twentieth Infantry and Doctors Lord and DeWolf. Benteen and Varnum were slightly wounded.
Varnum had taken two flesh wounds, one in each leg below the knee, while charging on foot to drive Indians from a hill where they were killing the men at an alarming rate. The losses struck hard at the families involved. Mrs. Custer lost her husband and his two brothers, one a civilian traveling with the regiment.
Mrs. Calhoun lost her husband and three brothers, as well as a nephew, Mr. Reed, also traveling with them. Half of the officers with the command had been killed.
By the time Varnum wrote, he had been placed in command of the remaining members of Company A, making him a first lieutenant and eleventh on the list. The regiment was encamped on its old battlefield of August 11th, 1873. A boat had been sent to Lincoln to establish communication with General Sheridan and receive orders. Mail from Fort Ellis brought a letter from Sheridan, dated a month earlier, warning General Terry not to divide his command.
Sheridan had intelligence that at least 5,000 warriors had assembled. Varnum believed they had fought against 4,000 of them. General Crook, with sixteen companies of cavalry, was approaching from the south, and according to the dispatch, he had been reinforced by the entire Fifth Cavalry, giving him twenty-eight companies to engage the enemy that the Seventh had faced with only twelve. Varnum ended his letter with a simple plea: don’t worry for me.
He signed it, your affectionate son, Charles A. Varnum.