On the evening of June 22, 1876, Lieutenant Edward Godfrey, a seasoned cavalry officer of the Seventh Cavalry, stood among his fellow officers gathered around General George Armstrong Custer’s bivouac at the mouth of the Rosebud River in Montana Territory. The mood was somber, almost no one spoke, and the weight of what lay ahead pressed on every man present. Custer had just received his written orders from Brigadier General Alfred Terry, and he now addressed his officers in a manner that struck them as deeply unusual. The instructions from General Terry were explicit.
Custer was to proceed up the Rosebud River in pursuit of the Indian trail discovered by Major Reno a few days earlier. Terry expressed complete confidence in Custer’s zeal, energy, and ability, and declined to impose precise orders that might hinder his actions. If the trail led toward the Little Big Horn River, as seemed likely, Custer was to continue southward, constantly feeling to his left to prevent the enemy from escaping to the south or southeast. Colonel Gibbon’s column was already moving toward the mouth of the Big Horn, and the hope was that the two columns would nearly encircle the Indians, rendering escape impossible.
Custer’s troops were rationed for fifteen days, and he was not expected to reach the Little Big Horn before July 5 or 6. At noon that same day, the command sounded and the regiment marched out of camp in column of fours, each troop followed by its pack mules. General Terry, Gibbon, and Custer reviewed the regiment as it passed, and Terry offered a pleasant word to each officer. The pack trains proved troublesome at first, with cargos falling off and mules straggling badly, but after Lieutenant Mathey took charge, their efficiency improved significantly.
The regiment encamped at 4:00 p. m. after marching twelve miles, having encountered the Indian trail. That evening, Custer gathered his officers and spoke with uncharacteristic openness.
He announced that trumpet calls would only be sounded in emergencies and that marches would commence at 5:00 a. m. sharp. He emphasized that troop commanders were experienced officers and would be left to manage their own troops, with only the timing of departure and arrival regulated from headquarters.
He stressed the importance of maintaining supporting distance, not advancing ahead of the scouts, and not falling far behind the column. Custer estimated they might encounter at least a thousand warriors, potentially supplemented by young men from the agencies, totaling perhaps fifteen hundred. He had consulted reports from the Commissioner of Indian Affairs in Washington and was confident the opposing force would not exceed that number. General Terry had offered additional troops from the Second Cavalry, but Custer declined, believing the Seventh Cavalry could defeat any force that might combine against them.
He also declined the offer of Gatling guns, fearing they would slow his movement over difficult terrain. The regiment would march twenty-five to thirty miles daily, and officers were cautioned to conserve rations and the strength of their horses. As the officers dispersed, Lieutenants McIntosh, Wallace, and Godfrey walked to their bivouac in silence. Finally, Wallace spoke: “Godfrey, I believe General Custer is going to be killed.
” When asked why, Wallace replied, “Because I have never heard Custer talk that way before. ”
On the morning of June 23, the regiment marched up the Rosebud at 5:00 a. m. , and before long they encountered the first Indian camping site, indicating a large village.
They passed through three camping sites, studying pony droppings, tracks, and lodge trails to estimate the number of lodges. By June 24, they had marched twenty-eight miles and came upon a larger camp where the grass had been grazed by immense herds and found the frame of a Sun Dance lodge with a white man’s scalp inside. This was where Indians from the agencies had joined the hostiles. The Crow scouts had discovered fresh signs, including pony tracks and an Indian on foot.
As the command prepared to separate, Custer’s headquarters flag was blown down by a southerly breeze, falling toward the rear. Godfrey picked it up and replanted the staff, but it fell again. He then secured it with sagebrush. The incident seemed insignificant at the time, but later Lieutenant Wallace would mention it as a bad omen foretelling their defeat.
The night of June 24 was restless. At around 9:30 p. m. , Godfrey and Lieutenant Hare retired for a brief nap, but their rest was interrupted when a voice announced that General Custer requested the presence of all officers at headquarters immediately.
Custer informed them that the trail led to the Little Big Horn and that they would march immediately to conceal themselves near the Divide before daylight. This would allow time to study the terrain, locate the village, and plan the attack for the 26th. The night march was challenging, with dust and noise making it difficult to see or hear. Troopers were sent ahead to listen for sounds from the scouts.
At 2:00 a. m. on June 25, the command halted, having marched about ten miles. Before 8:00 a.
m. , Custer rode bareback to each troop, sharing information from the scouts about the location of the Indian villages. Just before departing, Godfrey observed Custer in a serious conversation with Bloody Knife, the Ree scouts, and an interpreter. The scouts appeared nervous, and Bloody Knife mentioned that they would find enough Sioux to fight for two or three days.
Custer smiled and remarked, “I guess we’ll get through with them in one day. ”
The command resumed its march at 8:00 a. m. and continued until 10:30 a.
m. , when they halted in a ravine and were instructed to maintain silence and conceal themselves. The scouts had spotted smoke rising above the village and pony herds grazing in the Little Big Horn Valley, approximately twelve to fifteen miles away. High bluffs screened the village, making it impossible to discover more of the enemy than the scouts had already reported.
It was well known to the Indians that troops were in the field, and a battle was fully expected. But the close proximity of the column was not known to them until the morning of the battle, when several young men who had left the hostile camp to visit an agency in Nebraska saw the dust raised by the troops and returned to the village with the warning. Thus, the attack would not be a surprise. The Indian camp had been pitched at that site for two or three days, not chosen as a battlefield but as a convenient camping spot.
In anticipation of fulfilling Sitting Bull’s prophecy, the village had massed together along the Little Big Horn River, known to the Indians as the Greasy Grass. While the column halted, a pack of hard bread was lost during the night march, and a detail was sent back to recover it. When the detail returned, Sergeant Curtis described finding an Indian opening the box with his tomahawk. The Indian fled upon seeing the soldiers.
This information was promptly taken to Custer, who sounded officer call. Custer recounted the report and mentioned that scouts had seen Indians observing their movements along the ridge. He believed their presence had been discovered, making further concealment unnecessary. He decided to attack the village immediately rather than wait until the next morning, to prevent the village from scattering and escaping.
Soon after noon, the regiment crossed the dividing ridge between the Rosebud and Little Big Horn valleys and was divided into battalions. Major Reno’s advance battalion comprised Troops M, A, and G. Captain Benteen’s battalion comprised Troops H, D, and K, with Lieutenant Godfrey commanding Troop K. The pack train under Lieutenant Mathey’s charge was escorted by Troop B under Captain McDougall.
Reno’s battalion marched down a valley that developed into the South Branch of a small tributary to the Little Big Horn, now known as Reno Creek. Custer’s column trailed Reno’s closely, bearing to the right and rear. Benteen’s battalion was ordered to the left and front, toward a line of high bluffs, with instructions to engage any enemy he encountered and to continue toward the next line of bluffs until he could see the Little Big Horn Valley. Benteen’s march was arduous, traversing rough, steep hills and deep valleys.
The obstacles forced his battalion to the right, eventually bringing them within about a mile of the trail. Many horses were greatly fatigued, and Benteen wisely decided to follow the trail of the rest of the command, joining it just ahead of the pack train. As they marched, they occasionally saw Custer’s battalion, distinguished by the troop mounted on gray horses, marching at a rapid pace. They heard loud cheering and a few shots two or three times, but the cause of these demonstrations remains unknown.
Benteen halted at a water hole to water the horses, and while watering, they heard firing in advance. Captain Weir grew impatient, starting off with his troop to take the advance, and the rest of the battalion soon followed. As they left the water hole, the pack train arrived, and the thirsty mules plunged into the morass despite the packers’ efforts to prevent them. They passed a burning tepee, presumably fired by their scouts, containing the body of a warrior killed in the battle with Crook’s troops on the Rosebud on June 17.
Reno’s command and scouts followed the Indians closely until Reno received orders to move forward at a rapid gait and charge the village, with the whole outfit supporting him. According to Reno’s official report, this order was given near the burning tepee, where Lieutenant Cook, the adjutant, informed him that the village was only two miles ahead. Reno moved forward at a trot to the river, where he delayed to water the horses and reform the column. He sent word to Custer that he had the enemy in front of him and that they were strong.
Custer had moved off to the right, separated from Reno by high bluffs and the river. Reno formed his battalion in line of battle across the valley and deployed as skirmishers. The hostiles fell back firing occasionally but made no decisive effort to check his advance. However, when the horses of two men became unmanageable and carried them into the Indian camp, the Indians developed great force, opened a brisk fire, and made a dash toward the foothills on the left flank.
The Ree scouts fled, abandoning the field. Reno realized he was being drawn into a trap. He could not see Custer or any other support, so he decided to defend himself and give up the mounted attack. He dismounted his command to fight on foot, taking cover in the timber, protected by the bank of an old riverbed.
The position was strong, protected in front by the bank and a fringe of timber, with some cover in the rear. Reno’s casualties were few while he remained there, but the hostiles had him nearly surrounded. After one man was killed close to him, Reno gave orders to mount and get to the bluffs. But the order was not generally heard or communicated.
He countermanded it, then repeated it, but again it was not widely understood. Many did not know of the order until it was too late to accompany the command. Some remained concealed until the Indians left; others remained until night and then escaped. Reno’s command left the bottom in a straggling formation, with Reno leading the retreat.
The hostile strength pushed his retreat to the left, forcing them to find an alternative ford where they struck the river at a practicable place. A pony trail led up a funnel-shaped ravine into the bluffs, where the command became jammed and lost all semblance of organization. The Indians fired into them, but not effectively, and there was no organized resistance. Lieutenant Donald McIntosh was killed shortly after departing the timber.
Dr. DeWolf met his demise while ascending one of the bluffs. Lieutenant Hodson’s horse leaped from the bank into the river and fell dead, and Hodson was wounded in the leg. He cried out, “For God’s sake, don’t abandon me,” and was assured he would not be left behind.
He grasped a comrade’s stirrup strap and was taken across the stream, but soon after was shot and killed. Reno’s casualties thus far were three officers, including Dr. DeWolf, and twenty-nine enlisted men and scouts killed, seven enlisted men wounded, and one officer, one interpreter, and fourteen soldiers and scouts missing. Nearly all the casualties occurred during the retreat and after leaving the timber.
Scout Charlie Reynolds and interpreter Isaiah Dorman were killed in the timber. Bloody Knife was killed by Reno’s side. Not long after leaving the water hole, Sergeant Knipe of Troop C met Benteen’s column with an order from Custer to hasten the pace of the pack train. Shortly afterward, they were met by Trumpeter Martin of Troop H, bearing a message signed by Colonel Cook, the adjutant: “Benteen, come on.
Big village. Be quick. Bring packs. ” A riderless horse was the only living thing in their front.
Benteen inquired of the trumpeter what had transpired, and Martin informed him that the Indians had scattered and abandoned the village. The column took the gallop with pistols drawn, expecting to meet the enemy. They thought Custer was driving the Indians before him and never suspected that their forces had been defeated. As they formed in line to meet their supposed enemy, they came into full view of the Little Big Horn Valley.
The valley was filled with horsemen riding to and fro in clouds of dust and smoke. On the bluffs to their right, they saw a body of troops engaged. Due to the distance, smoke, and dust, it was impossible to discern if those in the valley were friends or foes. Some Crow scouts passed by, driving a small herd of ponies, and one of them said “soldiers” and motioned for the command to go to the right.
Following their directions, they soon joined Reno’s battalion, which was still firing. Reno had lost his hat and had a handkerchief tied about his head, appearing very excited. Benteen’s battalion was ordered to dismount and deploy as skirmishers on the edge of the bluffs overlooking the valley. Shortly after, the Indians withdrew from the attack.
Lieutenant Hare approached Godfrey, grasped his hand heartily, and said with emphasis, “We’ve had a big fight in the bottom, got whipped, and I am glad to see you. ” Godfrey was satisfied he meant what he said, for he had already suspected something was amiss, but he was not prepared for such startling information. The Seventh Cavalry had been divided, and the cost of that decision was now becoming clear. Custer’s immediate command had been annihilated.
Godfrey, one of the few surviving officers of the regiment, had witnessed the battle with his own eyes, and his account would become a crucial piece of the historical puzzle, shedding light on the triumphs and tragedies of Custer’s Last Stand. The Battle of the Little Big Horn ended in the most devastating defeat of the Great Sioux War of 1876, a defeat that would resonate through American history.