He Turned His Column West (Part 3 of 11)

Had he followed orders, Custer and his column would have arrived at the Little Big Horn a day or two later.  The Seventh was just one arm of a coordinated operation intended to trap the Indians somewhere near the Little Bighorn, General Crook’s column from the south, General Gibbon’s from the northwest, and General Terry’s, of which the Seventh Calvary was a part, from the east.  What Terry and Gibbons did not know was that Crook had engaged with the Sioux and Cheyenne days earlier farther south and had already withdrawn.

Terry divided his force at the confluence of Rosebud Creek with the Yellowstone River, ordering Custer to scout along Rosebud Creek and to continue on to the headwaters of the Tongue River before turning northwest toward the Little Bighorn.  Unencumbered by the infantry, artillery, gatling guns, and wagons that comprised the rest of Terry’s column, it was acknowledged that Custer’s cavalry could move more swiftly while the rest of Terry’s column continued up the Yellowstone to rendezvous with Gibbon’s column.

Custer’s foray up the Rosebud and on to the Tongue was to ascertain that the Indian village was to the west along the Little Bighorn as suspected.  Turning northwest upon reaching the headwaters of the Tongue, his command would have arrived at the Indian encampment at about the same time as would Gibbon’s command.  However, as written, the orders allowed Custer to act with discretion, “...to conform to them, unless you should see sufficient reasons for departing from them.”  The order implied that sufficient reason might be “...to preclude the possibility of the escape of the Indians...”

As the Seventh proceeded up the Rosebud, all signs were that the Indians had indeed moved west toward the Little Bighorn. When the column came across a trail said to be a mile wide created by what must have been thousands of travois, all headed west, further travel up the Rosebud seemed pointless, and there was that caveat in his orders “...to preclude the possibility of the escape of the Indians...”    The longer the cavalry continued south, the more likely they might be discovered, and if discovered, the Indians would likely flee.  He turned his column west.

Of course, there remain those who believe that Custer turned west, not because of concern that the Indians might escape, rather that he wanted to gain personal glory.  Rumors had circulated that the egotistical Custer believed that a few glorious headlines might one day land him in the White House.  One of the civilians accompanying the column was newspaper correspondent Mark Kellog, no doubt eager to get the scoop on a big story, someone who Custer was likely certain could invent some splashy headlines that just might propel the colonel into the Presidency.  Ego and hubris can be a terrible, terrible burden.  We will never know what exactly prompted Custer’s seemingly impetuous move, whether glory or the possibility of the Indians’ escape.  It may have been both.

While the large Indian trail may have confirmed Custer’s suspicions of the Indians’ whereabouts, it also triggered apprehension among his Arikara scouts.  Everything clearly pointed to a gathering of Indians that would number in the thousands.  The superstitious Arikara began imagining foreboding omens in everything encountered.  Custer’s column numbered between 650 and 675 officers and enlisted men, plus five civilians and about twenty to thirty Indian scouts, a formidable body, but the scouts were convinced it would be no match against the huge number of Indians they expected to find.  Custer dismissed their fears, confident that the Seventh could handle anything it encountered.

The Arikara were probably not the only ones to register apprehension.  The full weight of what might be ahead descended on the troops as well, many of whom had never been in an Indian fight before.  Campfire talk could be disturbing, the veterans warning the uninitiated to do whatever necessary to avoid capture and the terrible torture that would surely follow.  Death by one’s own hand would be preferable to that.  The warnings no doubt left an impression.

Incredibly, Correspondent Mark Kellog’s last dispatch dated June 12 stated, “I go with Custer and will be at the death.”  Despite its wording, it is generally believed that he didn’t intend to convey any premonition, though it could easily be construed that he meant to.  He likely did not share his dispatch with Custer.