This is all authentic writing. Sometimes on the orignals a word was left [ ] because some of the writing was wet and the words couldn't be made out, but I put in what I thought was the logical word, and am quite sure I haven't distorted the meaning.
The Custer letters were to his wife - and she put them in her book, first taking out the personal bits.
In Kellogg's writing, the capital letters indicate a headline, even though they are often in the middle of a sentence - but I have put them into solid text. I've kept his spelling, although some are obvious mistakes. Letter from Custer.
Forty-six miles from Fort Lincoln, May 20th, 1876 - 9.15 P.M.
It has just been decided to send scouts back to Lincoln. They leave here at daylight, and will remain there thirty-six hours, returning to us with dispatches and mail.
We are having the "parrot's time" with the expedition. It is raining now, and has been since we started. The roads are fearfully bad. Here we are on the Little Muddy, after marching four days, and only forty-six miles from home.
Everybody is more or less disgusted except me, and I feel the relief of not having to bear the responsibility of the delays. The elements seem against us, but a wet season and bad roads can be looked for always in this region in the months of May and June. We have not seen any signs of Indians thus far, and hardly look for any for a few days yet. I have been extremely prudent - sufficiently so to satisfy you. I go nowhere without taking an escort with me. I act as if Indians were near all the time.
The mess prospers well. Tom and I have fried onions at breakfast and dinner, and raw onions for lunch!
The scouts that were left at Lincoln joined us yesterday about 10 A.M. with the mail. I wish that you knew how good it was to get the letters. You must send me more by the scouts we send out to-morrow. Since beginning this letter it is decided that they go at once, for I know it is best to get them out of camp at night; so they have been directed to saddle-up immediately, and I must therefore cut this letter short. They both took advantage of their first absence from home to partake of their favorite vegetable.
Onions were permitted at our table, but after indulging in them they found themselves severely let alone, and that they did not enjoy. I said this evening that if I was sure this expedition would go no farther the next four days than it has those just past, I would be glad to take dispatches to Lincoln and return, just for the sake of getting home again for a few hours.
*****
Dispatch from Kellogg
Second Dispatch
Published May 24th
Camp of Terry’s Expedition, Heart River, May 17. Reviles sounded shrill and sharp through Gen. Terry’s camp two miles south of Fort Abraham Lincoln and an hour later tents were struck, and at 5 a.m. the column formed preliminary to the march. Taking up the line of march, the column moved northwards through the late camp, and out over the coteaus. Two miles west of Fort Abraham Lincoln a halt was made a line in the following marching order was made.
Gen. Custer with two companies of cavalry and 40 scouts filed in ahead. Charley Reynolds, Chief scout, and F.F. Girard, Interpreter, accompanying. Gen. A.H. Terry and staff of the 7th cavalry band and in order named the rest of the expedition: Seventh Cavalry, Artillery, Ambulance, Forage Wagons, with Infantry interspersed here and there, and in the rear and on the flanks of the column a detachment of cavalry was deployed as skirmishers, the cavalry and infantry marching in two columns. This was the order of the march for the day and will continue to be until circumstances demand a change.
It was a cheering and BRILLIANT SIGHT
I witnessed from the highest peaked coteau west of Fort Lincoln within a few miles where your reporter took a stand. Foggy and damp though the morning, yet the inspiring trains of martial music floated through the air.
The roads being heavy and the wheeling difficult, the column moved slow and halted frequently yet at 3 p.m. the main column reached the camp ground we now occupy which Gen. Custer who had arrived three hours ahead of us had chosen. It is a delightful spot for a camp situation of the borders of the limpid waters of the Big Heart. The ground selected, a basin of 1,000 or 1,200 acres, is as level as a barn floor with coteaus surrounding it on all sides. Clear and sweet water is abundant and grass and timber plenty. The scouts were stationed on the highest peaks for observation, and the fighting material of the column placed in position to be ready at any moment to ward off or attack an enemy.
The INCIDENT of to-day with me, has been the antics of Waggoner’s pack mules. Some of them are fresh in the work, and mule like, after becoming wearied with their load, commenced bucking and kicking to rid themselves of it. It would make a stoic show his molars to see “them devilish critters” cut up. However, Waggoner and his assistants brought them to in time and into camp in good order.
A wagon tongue or two was broken but they were quickly replaced, but no accidents worthy of notice has occurred thus far.
The PAYMASTER is paying off the troops, this p.m. and the “boys” will have “a stake” in their pockets for a much longer period that they usually keep one there and yet they are not happy, but think constantly of the girl left behind or other pleasures.
It is understood that the column will take up its line of march early into the morning, and move toward where dwell the hostile red men.
GENERAL A.H. TERRY is in excellent health and sprits, and hopes the Indians will gain sufficient courage to make a stand at or before we reach the Yellowstone River. His equable temper and genial manner show that the responsibilities resting on him, although weighty, wear him not at all.
All of our military acquaintance start out fresh, hopeful and chuck full of energy for a melee with the “noble red man?” There has been great cheerfulness exhibited by the rank and file during all the preparation for this expedition and now that camp with its ennui is left behind, everybody is supremely happy. At least so appears the social atmosphere.
As usual on occasion of this kind GENERAL CUSTER is full of life and spirit, the same true soldier, exhibiting the dashing bravery of a man who knows no fear, true to the life in him. His energy is unbounded. Fatigue leaves no traces on him, and whatever care possesses him is bidden within his inner self. His men respect him, and will dare to do brave thing under his leadership.
The weather is delightful, the scenery and surrounding ditto, so your correspondent is just at this time fully contented with his lot, although it be in the “tented field.”
FRONTIER
*****
From Custer
On Little Missouri, May 30th - 10 P.M.
I am determined to sit up, even though it is ten o'clock, and write to you, notwithstanding I have had a tremendous day's work.
I breakfasted at four o'clock, was in the saddle at five, and between that hour and 6 P.M. I rode fifty miles over a rough country, unknown to everybody, and only myself for a guide. We had halted here for one day in order to determine the truth of the many rumors which you and all of us have heard so long and often, to the effect that the hostile Indians were gathered on the Little Missouri River, with the intention of fighting us here.
I suggested to General Terry to send out a strong scouting-party up the river to find out all that could be ascertained. He left the matter to me, and I took four companies of cavalry and a part of the scouts, and at five o'clock we were off.
The valley of the river averages about one mile in width, hemmed in on both sides by impassable Bad Lands. The river is crooked beyond description. To shorten the story, we marched the fifty miles and got back before dark, having settled the question beyond a doubt that all stories about large bodies of Indians being here are the merest bosh. None have been here for six months, not even a small hunting-party.
We took pack-mules with us to carry feed for the horses. When we lunched, all the officers got together and we had a jolly time. Only think, we found the Little Missouri River so crooked and the Bad Lands so impassable that in marching fifty miles to-day we forded the river thirty-four times. The bottom is quicksand. Many of the horses went down, frequently tumbling their riders into the water; but all were in good spirits, and every one laughed at every one else's mishaps.
General Terry just left my tent a few moments since, and when I asked him not to be in a hurry he said, "Oh, I'll leave you, for you must be tired and want to go to bed." I did not tell him that I was going to write to you before I slept.
Bloody Knife looks on in wonder at me because I never get tired, and says no other man could ride all night and never sleep. I know I shall sleep soundly when I do lie down; but, actually, I feel no more fatigued now than I did before mounting my horse this morning.
In Camp, about Ten Miles West of the Little Missouri, May 31st.
We left camp about eight o'clock. After marching a few miles, Tom, "Bos," and I, taking some men, started on a near route across the country, knowing that we would intercept the column later on. This is the second time I have left the main command, and both times they have lost their way; so you see my "bump of locality" is of some use out here.
We reached this camp about three-quarters of an hour from the time we left the column, but the latter strayed off, and while we were here by 9 A.M., the rest did not reach here until two o'clock. When they found they were lost, the officers all assembled at the head of the column to consult together and try and find the right way.
To-day, while out with Tom and "Bos," we were riding through a part of the country filled with small buttes, in which it was easy to lose one's self. "Bos" stopped a few moments as we were riding through a ravine, and dismounted to take a pebble from his pony's shoe. I observed it, and said to Tom, "Let's slip round the hill behind 'Bos,' where he can't find us, and when he starts we'll fire in the air near him." The moment we passed out of sight our entire party galloped around the hill behind him and concealed ourselves. Tom and I crawled to the top of the hill and peeped through the grass without being seen.
Sure enough, "Bos" thought he was lost, as we could nowhere be seen in the direction he expected to find us. Tom and I were watching him, and just as he seemed in a quandary as to where we were, I fired my rifle so that the bullet whizzed over his head. I popped out of sight for a moment, and when I looked again "Bos" was heading his pony towards the command, miles away. I fired another shot in his direction, and so did Tom, and away "Bos" flew across the plains, thinking, no doubt, the Sioux were after him. Tom and I mounted our horses and soon overhauled him. He will not hear the last of it for some time.
Charlie Reynolds killed two big-horn sheep to-day and gave me the finest of the two heads. I have it in my tent now and hope to preserve it, although I came away without my preservative powders.
Nearly all my amusement is with "Bos" and Tom. We lunch together every day. I have about made up my mind that when I go on expeditions like this you are to go too. You could have endured this as well as not.
Powder River, about Twenty Miles above its Mouth, June 9, 1876.
We are now in a country heretofore unvisited by white men. Reynolds, who had been guiding the command, lost his way the other day, and General Terry did not know what to do about finding a road from O'Fallon's Creek across to Powder River. I told him I thought I could guide the column. He assented; so Tom, "Bos," and I started ahead, with company D and the scouts as escort, and brought the command to this point, over what seems to be the only practicable route for miles on either side, through the worst kind of Bad Lands.
The general did not believe it possible to find a road through. When, after a hard day's work, we arrived at this river by a good, easy road, making thirty-two miles in one day, he was delighted and came to congratulate me.
Yesterday I finished a Galaxy article, which will go in the next mail; so, you see, I am not entirely idle.
Day before yesterday I rode nearly fifty miles, arose yesterday morning, and went to work at my article, determined to finish it before night, which I did, amidst constant interruptions.
It is now nearly midnight, and I must go to my bed, for reveille comes at three. As a slight evidence that I am not very conceited regarding my personal appearance, I have not looked in a mirror or seen the reflection of my beautiful (?) countenance, including the fine growth of auburn whiskers, since I looked in the glass at Lincoln.
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Written by bluecity (367 comments posted) 23rd March 2008 | Some interesting personal details here, Jean.
"It is now nearly midnight, and I must go to my bed, for reveille comes at three. "
That sounds like me, sitting reading/writing until late and then having to jump out of bed early the next morning to go to work.
Rosemary | Thanks Rosemary
Written by jean.day (2257 comments posted) 24th March 2008 | | I hope you manage to get more sleep that Custer seems to have done. I think on the day of the battle, he had only had a few hours the night before - and I doubt if it was very restful - as he knew what was coming. But maybe, just maybe, his judgement was poor because of his lack of sleep. The Indians reported that his troops were exhausted - and almost incapable of fighting. |
Written by Phil (6645 comments posted) 3rd August 2008 | More interesting stuff here, Jean.
Not visited extended for a while due to lack of time - sorry.
Phil | Thanks Phil
Written by jean.day (2257 comments posted) 4th August 2008 | | Don't feel obliged to read the rest of this. I am very appreciative of all your support so far. The book is in print - so I won't be making any changes even if you decide the work is very bad. |
Written by Phil (6645 comments posted) 4th August 2008 | I hope I've not given the impression that I think this is a poor work - far from it. I wouldn't have read so far if I did. I'm enjoying this - entertainment and education at the same time.
Had a really busy final 6 weeks at work - oddly now I'm on holiday - I seem to have less time to read here. I think I feel guilty sitting here when there's so much I could be doing around the house!
Phil |
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