On July 4, 1876, Lieutenant Charles Albert Varnam, a young cavalry officer who survived the Battle of Little Bighorn days earlier, wrote a detailed letter to his parents describing the disastrous encounter from inside the action. His account provides a rare, firsthand look at the movements, decisions, and final stand of the Seventh Cavalry under General George Armstrong Custer. Varnam, who served as an officer of scouts, reported that the regiment of about 605 men left camp on June 22 after a trail was discovered. The force pushed up the Rosebud River, covering roughly 12 miles the first day and about 30 the second, before finding signs of a large Indian village.
On the third day, scouts discovered a fresh trail and evidence of an immense gathering ahead. Custer sent Varnam ahead with six Crow scouts, five Ree scouts, and an old frontiersman to scout the valley of the Little Horn River. The group rode through the night, covering about 60 miles after Varnam had already been riding for 36 hours without rest. From a high bluff at dawn, they spotted the smoke of an Indian village in the distance.
The Crow scouts estimated they saw between two and three thousand ponies on the plains about 12 miles away. Varnam sent the Ree scouts back with a message for Custer, who received it around 8 a. m. and moved the command forward to join them.
Their plan for surprise was soon compromised when two Sioux warriors spotted the column, and an attempt to intercept them failed. Custer decided to press the attack quickly once the command had been discovered. Around 2:30 that afternoon, Major Reno led three companies into the valley toward the village. Varnam reported that he joined Company A under Captain Moylan after the scouts scattered, fighting on foot near the village.
They soon found themselves surrounded and outnumbered, forced to retreat through the woods and up to the bluffs. The retreat to the bluff was costly. Varnam noted that Lieutenants McIntosh and DeRudio were missing and Lieutenant Hodgson had been killed. Only five men and Lieutenant Wallace from Company G survived, and the command lost more than a third of its strength in the fighting.
Colonel Benteen then arrived with three companies, and the pack train came up with another company, bringing the remaining force to roughly 300 men. From the bluff, the men heard intense gunfire about two miles away and recognized that Custer’s five companies were engaged beyond the village. After regrouping, the combined force attempted to move along the bluffs to join him, but after about a mile they lost sight of the action and the firing grew more distant. With wounded men and a cumbersome pack train, they chose a defensive position on the bluffs and prepared for a siege.
The position was well chosen, with horses protected in a hollow and vulnerability limited to one direction. The battle went on until about 9 p. m. , when firing ceased until dawn.
The men fortified their position with limited tools and faced a relentless barrage through the next day. Varnam described how young soldiers quickly became seasoned veterans, fighting alongside the dead and wounded, surrounded by flies and maggots. A hospital held about 40 wounded men, protected by a ring of mules and horses around it. Water was scarce, and detachments sent to reach the river under heavy fire suffered many killed and wounded.
The horses suffered severely without water. Firing finally ceased on the afternoon of the 26th, and the men could see the village beginning to leave. On the morning of the 27th, the Indians were gone. The reason soon became clear when General Terry arrived with five companies of the Seventh Infantry and four companies of the Second Cavalry.
The Crow scouts who had escaped had brought word of the position, and Terry’s force hurried to their relief. The full horror of what had happened to Custer’s command then became visible. General Custer and all five of his companies had been killed. About 300 men lay dead, their bodies stripped and horribly mangled.
Sixteen officers had fallen, including General Custer, Captain Keogh, Captain Yates, Captain Custer, Lieutenant Cook, and several others. Varnam listed among the dead Lieutenant Calhoun, Porter, Hodgson, Harrington, Sturgis, Riley, and others, as well as two doctors. Colonel Benteen and Varnam himself were slightly wounded. Varnam described receiving two slight flesh wounds, one in each leg below the knee, while charging on foot to drive Indians from a hill where they were killing men at an alarming rate.
He also reflected on the personal scale of the loss: Mrs. Custer lost her husband and two brothers, one a civilian traveling with the command, while Mrs. Calhoun lost her husband and three brothers, as well as a nephew. Half of the officers with the regiment had been killed.
Varnam noted that he had been placed in command of the remaining members of Company I, making him a first lieutenant and eleventh on the list. The survivors were encamped on an old battlefield from 1873, and a boat had been sent to Lincoln to establish communication with General Sheridan and receive orders. Mail received from Fort Ellis included a letter from General Sheridan dated a month earlier, warning General Terry not to divide his command because intelligence indicated at least 5,000 warriors had assembled. Varnam believed the regiment had fought against about 4,000 of them.
He also noted that General Crook, approaching from the south with 16 companies of cavalry and reinforced by the entire Fifth Cavalry, had 28 companies to face the enemy the Seventh had engaged with only 12. Varnam ended the letter urging his parents not to worry, signing as their affectionate son.