Chapter XXIX: Appendix: A (2)

Therefore, Custer did not obey his written instructions, in letter
or spirit, and had no proper military justification for not doing
so, unless General Terry afterwards told him, “Use your own judgment
and do what you think best,” which, in my opinion, would have made
the instructions advisory rather than positive orders. If these
facts (I ignore the unproduced affidavit) do not constitute
disobedience of orders, I do not see how it is possible for the
charge of disobedience of orders to hold against any man, under any
circumstances, when away from his superior.

Here is a trifling sidelight on the matter. On the night of June
23d, General Gibbon, in reply to an optimistic remark of mine, told
me in effect, “I am satisfied that if Custer can prevent it we will
not get into the fight.” The meaning I gathered was that Gibbon
thought that Custer was so eager to retrieve the good opinion that
he might have lost owing to his controversy over post traderships,
that he would strike when and where he could.

While Terry, with Gibbon’s command, was camped at Tullock’s Creek,
Saturday night and Sunday morning, June 24th and 25th, he was
looking for a message from Custer very anxiously, so I was told at
the time.

Colonel Godfrey speaks of the odium Terry’s family seemed to think
was “heaped upon him for the failure to push forward on the
information they had on June 25th and 26th.” Now let me say a few
words with reference to that.

The smoke that is spoken of as having been seen by Terry’s
command—and I saw it myself—was on the afternoon of June 25th. It
was occasioned, I understood, by attempts to drive some of Reno’s
stragglers out of the brush, and must have been somewhere from two
to four o’clock in the afternoon. Now let me quote from a telegram
of General Terry, dated June 27, and found on page 463, Vol. I.,
Report of the Secretary of War of 1876, to show that Gibbon’s
command did not linger by the wayside:

“Starting soon after five o’clock in the morning of the 25th, the
infantry made a march of twenty-two miles over the most difficult
country which I have ever seen. In order that the scouts might be
sent into the valley of the Little Big Horn, the cavalry, with the
battery, was then pushed on thirteen or fourteen miles farther,
reaching camp at midnight. The scouts were sent out at half-past
four in the morning of the 26th. They soon discovered three Indians,
who were at first supposed to be Sioux; but, when overtaken, they
proved to be Crows, who had been with General Custer. They brought
the first intelligence of the battle. Their story was not credited.
It was supposed that some fighting, perhaps severe fighting, had
taken place; but it was not believed that disaster could have
overtaken so large a force as twelve companies of cavalry. The
infantry, which had broken camp very early, soon came up, and the
whole column entered and moved up the valley of the Little Big
Horn.”

I want to say that the infantry broke camp about four o’clock on the
morning of the 26th. It had rained that preceding night and the lash
ropes of the packs were soaked with water and, as we moved, they
stretched continuously and we were stopping constantly to replace
the packs, and besides that, mind you, traveling in adobe mud was
very trying. I continue the quotation as follows:

“During the afternoon efforts were made to send scouts through to
what was supposed to be General Custer’s position, to obtain
information of the condition of affairs; but those who were sent out
were driven back by parties of Indians, who, in increasing numbers,
were seen hovering in General Gibbon’s front. At twenty minutes
before nine o’clock in the evening, the infantry had marched between
twenty-nine and thirty miles. The men were very weary and daylight
was fading. The column was therefore halted for the night, at a
point about eleven miles in a straight line from the mouth of the
stream. This morning the movement was resumed, and, after a march of
nine miles, Major Reno’s intrenched position was reached.”

It was the general opinion from indications found next day just
beyond where we halted for the night, that had we proceeded five
hundred yards more, we would have been in the midst of a night
attack from the Sioux Indians, who came to meet us as a means of
guarding their fleeing village.

In reference to the number of Indians, the same telegram of General
Terry’s says: “Major Reno and Captain Benteen, both of whom are
officers of great experience, accustomed to seeing large masses of
mounted men, estimate the number of Indians engaged at not less than
twenty-four hundred. Other officers think that the number was
greater than this. The village in the valley was about three miles
in length and about a mile in width. Besides the lodges proper, a
great number of temporary brushwood shelters were found in it,
indicating that many men, besides its proper inhabitants, had
gathered together there.”

I am under the impression now that we counted positions occupied by
twelve hundred lodges.

I coincide with your view that had Reno proceeded in his attack,
with the audacity that should characterize, and usually does
characterize, a cavalry charge, there would have been a different
story to tell; perhaps as many men would have been killed, but they
would have been divided among at least eight, if not eleven, troops
of cavalry rather than concentrated in five, which meant
annihilation for those.

I have been told, or was told at the time, that it was thought that
about sixty lodges were a few miles up the Little Big Horn above the
main village, and that, in the early morning, when Custer’s
proximity was discovered, that this small village, knowing that they
were but a mouthful for Custer’s command, hurriedly packed up and
dashed down the valley. It can readily be understood that sixty
lodges, with the horses and paraphernalia, moving rapidly down the
valley, might well create the impression that a very large force was
in retreat.

Now, if the Indian village was in retreat, Custer’s division of his
forces was not altogether bad. One command to hurry them up and
continue the stampede, his main force to attack them in the right
flank if they turned that way, which was most probable, Benteen’s to
attack them if they turned to the left, which was possible but not
as probable.

Unfortunately for Custer they were not fleeing. Colonel Godfrey
rather dwells upon the fact that Custer had to attack these Indians
or they would have gotten away from him. The fact is, as I have
stated above, when he left the Rosebud he did not know where they
were, had not located them, was not in visual contact even with
them, and a glance at the map will show that, standing on the
Rosebud, where the trail left it to go over to the Little Big Horn,
Custer was in the best possible position for intercepting these
Indians on three of their four lines of retreat. For having passed
into the Little Big Horn Valley, there were only four practicable
routes of flight for the Indians, north, toward Gibbon, or east,
northeast, or southeast. From the point where he left the Rosebud,
Custer was in a position to strike either one of the three last
lines of flight, whereas, if, after making the forced night march
with his fatigued animals, he had struck the Little Big Horn, and a
reconnaissance had shown that the village had left the Little Big
Horn, going northeast, on the 24th of June, he would have been two
days’ march behind them.

Had he sent a scout, on the night of the 24th, to Gibbon, whose
exact whereabouts was almost known to him, that scout would have
reached Terry or Gibbon, on Tullock’s Fork, a few miles from the
Yellowstone, on the morning of Sunday, and by Sunday night Gibbon’s
command would have been within less than ten miles of what is
designated as Custer Peak, the hill on which Custer perished. Then,
with Custer moving on the morning of the 26th, Gibbon’s infantry and
Gatling guns could have forced those Sioux out of the village on to
the open ground, extending from the Little Big Horn to the Big Horn,
and Custer’s twelve troops of cavalry and Gibbon’s four, sixteen
troops in all, between them would have made the biggest killing of
Indians who needed killing ever made on the American continent since
Cortez invaded Mexico. While this is a speculation, and an idle one,
it is to my mind a rather interesting one.

I think myself that General Hughes makes out his case in reference
to that affidavit that General Miles has so carefully treasured for
so many years. It would be a very interesting historical document,
but it would have been more satisfactory if it had been produced
while Terry or General Gibbon or both were alive. I doubt very much
whether Major Brisbin’s supposed copy of the order book at Terry’s
headquarters was compared with the original after Brisbin had made
it.

I regret to say that my paper upon this campaign was lost, and I
have not even the notes from which it was written. I found one brief
page, which I quote merely as indication of my reasons for believing
that there were more than two thousand Indian warriors in the battle
of June 25th: “Before May 10th of ’77 more than one thousand
warriors came in and surrendered, not including the warriors killed
in that battle or the half dozen other engagements, nor the
individual warriors by the hundreds that sneaked back to the
agencies and those who went to British America under Sitting Bull,
numbering, it was understood, over two thousand warriors.”

I do not think you are too severe upon Major Reno. I conversed with
most of the officers of that command at one time or another, while
in the field, and nearly all were very pronounced in their severe
criticism of Reno. The testimony at the Reno court of inquiry was
less severe than the sentiments expressed within a few days, weeks,
and months after the occurrence. That was perhaps natural. It is
barely possible that some of it was due to the fact that Captain
Weir, one of General Custer’s most pronounced friends and one of
Major Reno’s most bitter critics, died before the court of inquiry
met.

I do not think that Sturgis, Porter, etc., were captured and
tortured. I found most of the lining of Porter’s coat in the camp,
which showed that the bullet that struck him must have broken the
back and passed in or out at the navel. My theory has been, with
reference to those whose bodies could not be found, that most of
them made a dash into the Bad Lands in the direction of the mouth of
the Rosebud, where they had last seen General Gibbon’s command. It
would have been easy for them to have perished from thirst in the
condition they were in, and if they reached the Yellowstone and
undertook to swim it, the chances were decidedly against their
succeeding.

Very sincerely,
C. A. WOODRUFF,
Brigadier-General, United States Army, Retired.

V.

So soon as this appendix as above was in type, I sent printed proofs of it to Generals Hughes, Woodruff, and Carrington, and to Colonel Godfrey for final revision and correction before the matter was plated. In returning the proof, General Carrington and Colonel Godfrey both add further communications, which I insert below.

I also sent the same proof to Mrs. Elizabeth B. Custer, widow of General Custer, and to Mrs. John H. Maugham, his sister, with an expression of my willingness—nay, my earnest desire—to print any comment they or either of them might wish to make upon the question under discussion.

At Mrs. Custer’s request I sent the appendix to Lieutenant-Colonel Jacob L. Greene, U. S. V., now president of the Connecticut Mutual Life Insurance Company, who was Custer’s adjutant-general during the war and his life-long friend thereafter. His able defense of his old commander is printed as the last of this interesting series of historic documents.

Desiring that Custer, through his friends, may have the final word, I print it without comment, save to say that I fully join Colonel Greene in his admiration for the many brilliant qualities and achievements of his old commander.

GENERAL CARRINGTON’S LETTER

Hyde Park, Mass., Sept. 25, 1904.

Dear Dr. Brady:

I appreciate the favor of reading the proof-sheets of the appendix
to your papers upon the Custer massacre. When it occurred I was
greatly shocked by an event so similar in its horrors to that of the
Phil Kearney massacre, in 1866. A previous interview with General
Custer came to mind, and I attended the sessions of the court of
inquiry at Chicago, taking with me, for reference, a map which I had
carefully prepared of that country, with the assistance of James
Bridger, my chief guide, and his associates.

The evidence indicated that when Custer reached the “Little Big
Horn” (so known upon that map) and sent Benteen up stream, with
orders that, “if he saw any Indians, to give them hell,” ordering
Reno to follow the trail across the river and move down toward the
Indian camps, while he moved down the right bank, detaching himself
from the other commands, he practically cut the Indians off from
retreat to the mountains, which was part of his special mission;
but, in the flush of immediate battle, lost thought of the combined
movement from the Big Horn, which had for its purpose the
destruction of the entire Indian force by overwhelming and
concentrated numbers.

Indeed, the court of inquiry did not so much discredit the conduct
of Reno as reveal the fact that he faced a vastly superior force
with no assurance that he could have immediate support from the
other battalions, so vital in a sudden collision with desperate and
hard-pressed enemies. The succeeding fight, on the defensive,
protracted as it was, with no information of Custer’s position, or
possible support from him, was a grave commentary upon the whole
affair.

The interview with General Custer referred to was in 1876, when,
upon leaving the lecture platform of the Historical Society in New
York, he made the remark, on our way to his hotel, “It will take
another Phil Kearney massacre to bring Congress up to a generous
support of the army.” We spent several hours together, while he
discussed his troubles with the authorities at Washington. He
recalled the events of 1867, and felt that General Sherman had
severely judged his operations on the Republican, but that the time
was near when he might have an opportunity to vindicate himself, and
that, “if he again had a chance he would accomplish it or die in the
attempt.” He was practically on a leave of absence, and its
extension was not his choice. Colonel Smith was sick, and he claimed
the right to command his regiment, since it had been ordered to
report as part of General Terry’s command.

The famous sutlership scandal was fully discussed, and here there
has been confusion as to Custer’s position. He had nothing to do
with the popular complaint that Belknap was farming out sutlerships
for personal emolument. Neither is it technically correct that the
Secretary of War could make original appointments of the kind
complained of. Post commanders, with their councils of officers, had
both the selection of their sutler, and fixed the prices of articles
to be sold. The Secretary simply issued the appointment thus
designated, unless for good reasons declined, thereby requiring
another selection by the officers. In cases of troops in campaign,
or detached, or on distant service, the commanding General confirmed
the officer’s choice. Custer’s position was manly, legal, and just;
but his assertion of this right, so far as made, offended Belknap,
at the expense of officers whose rights were overruled by
non-military influence.

Custer was _not under charges_ that would militate against his
assignment to the rightful command of his regiment when ordered into
field service. I did not hesitate to urge him to press his claim,
but could not entertain the idea that he would go to Bismarck, or
otherwise to make his claim in person, except through Washington
Headquarters.

If ever a man had an incentive to dare odds with his regiment, this
fearless fighter and rider, whose spirit reached the verge of frenzy
in battle, was the man for the occasion.

Through all the papers cited by you, there runs the same subtle
suggestion that he who, as an independent commander of aggressive
cavalry in the Civil War, was almost expected to take into the field
a large discretion as to his actions (whereby he had formerly
achieved success) when confronted by the enemy, within striking
distance in the Little Big Horn Valley, lost all sense of danger and
all thought of prescribed details of action in the confidence that,
somehow, the old Seventh could not be whipped by any savage force
whatsoever!

I have always regarded Terry’s general plan as well conceived, for
Reno’s prior scouting had almost assured the inevitable course of
the Indian trail westward, and events confirmed Terry’s judgment.
General Hughes had served upon Terry’s staff during the Civil War
with credit, as well as captain in the 18th Infantry on the
frontier, and his assurances that General Terry fully explained to
Custer the reasons why Washington authorities distrusted his
discretion and was more precise in giving him this detached command,
cannot be impeached by an asserted affidavit that whispered hints,
unheard by officers by his side, allowed him to be his own master in
a matter where a combined movement of three commands was the prime
factor in complete success.

Neither is there any doubt whatever that Custer’s earnest plea, that
he be trusted to fulfil the exact duties assigned to his command,
secured not only the sympathy and confidence of Terry in his behalf,
but that on that condition only did the Washington authorities
authorize General Terry to vacate the order for his arrest because
of going to his command without orders.

As already stated, Custer’s confidence in the Seventh Cavalry was
well deserved. It, with him, was a veritable thunderbolt in action;
but it was not omnipotent. That over-confidence which dissolved its
unity at the supreme crisis was fatal. Even then, a realized success
of which Custer had no doubt, would have minimized the rashness of
his dash and have largely condoned his fault.

Yours sincerely,
HENRY B. CARRINGTON.

COLONEL GODFREY’S FINAL REMARKS

I have no desire to pose as the special champion of General Custer, and it is still further from my desire to pose as inimical to General Terry. My only purpose is to demonstrate the truth, not only for this discussion, but for history.

This subject surely has gotten to the stage of academic discussion. I am not willing to admit that the phrase “he desires that you should conform to them (his views) unless,” etc., conveys a direct, positive command which could not be more explicit. Nor do I admit that orders given by a commander, in which he uses the words “desires,” “wishes,” and equivalents, convey _positive_ commands under all circumstances. In personal or social matters, such words convey the idea of what is wanted and what is expected; and in such matters the expressed wishes and desires are usually conveyed to personal friends, who loyally conform thereto, if not in letter, in spirit and in results. In such relations a commander does not want to use language that would appear dogmatic. I further admit that in personally giving orders a commander may accentuate the expression of his desires, wishes, etc., so as to leave no doubt about his intentions, and to convey positiveness thus expressed to his commands. When a commander gives written orders through official channels, the words “commands,” “orders,” and “directs,” or the use of the imperative, leave little ambiguity or doubt as to what is ordered or intended.

Developments subsequent to the campaign or battle leave little doubt that General Terry had about him men or influences that were suspicious, inimical, or hostile to General Custer. I sincerely believe General Terry was too high minded knowingly to allow himself to be influenced by any sinister motive.

That the “instructions” give rise to this discussion shows they were vague. Was this vagueness intentional? General Terry was a lawyer. He was a soldier. As lawyer and soldier his trained mind should have weighed the words embodied in these instructions. Now read them: “It is of course _impossible_[132] to give you any _definite instructions_ in regard to this movement, and were it not _impossible_ to do so, the Department Commander places too much confidence in your zeal, energy, and ability _to wish to impose upon you precise orders_ which might hamper your action when nearly in contact with the enemy,” and then goes on to indicate what he thinks should be done; or, in other words, indicates what he (Terry) himself would do if he found conditions as expressed. Custer evidently saw “sufficient reasons for departing from them” and did what a reasonable interpretation of the instructions contemplated, _made his own plans_.[132] I interpret the phrase “when so nearly in contact with the enemy” to refer to the immediate time or place (June 21, mouth of Rosebud) of writing it.[133]

As to the location of the Indians. Terry believed they were on the Little Big Horn;—we found them on that river about 15 miles above its forks with the Big Horn. Had the village been at the forks, the attack would have been delivered on the 25th of June, as the village would not have been located by Custer from the divide. It is possible the two columns might have joined in the attack. Now, suppose the village had been located 50 or 60 miles farther south, it would have still been within Terry’s guess, but it would have been a far cry to Gibbons’ column which, under the instructions, would have remained at the forks. It must be remembered that Custer would have had the Wolf Mountains (Rosebud Mountains on later maps) between him and the Little Big Horn had he ignored the trail and gone on southward up the Rosebud, as Custer’s critics would have us believe were the intentions of the instructions.

General Woodruff would have him stop at the camp of June 24 and scout to locate the village, etc. Would that have complied with Woodruff’s interpretation of the instructions? And from that position he says: “Custer was in a position to strike either one of the three last lines of flight (east, northeast or southeast), whereas if, after making the _forced_[134] night march with his fatigued animals, he had struck the Little Big Horn, and a reconnaissance had shown that the village had left the Little Big Horn going northeast, on June 24 he would have been two days’ march behind them.” That “forced” night march was about eight miles, and every mile made was in the direction to place us in the best position to intercept any flight to the northeast and east. Instead of being two days behind them, we would have met them almost “head on.”

Of what practical use to send scouts through to Gibbon June 24?

There was no fresh or new positive information to send to him; Terry had “guessed” it all.

Now let us repeat the marches made: June 22, twelve miles; June 23, thirty-three miles; June 24, twenty-eight miles; June 25, eight miles to the bivouac; and ten miles to the divide, and then say fifteen miles to the village. That is to say, ninety-one miles up to noon June 25, when it was decided to attack, and one hundred and six miles in all four days. That doesn’t indicate that we made _forced_ marches.

Woodruff further states that “he made that fatal night march with the _deliberate_(?) intention of trying to locate and strike the village before Gibbon could possibly get up.” I say that statement is deliberately unfair, and contradicts the twice-told statement by Custer, that he did not intend to attack the village until the 26th, once before he knew the location of the village, the night of the 24th, and again when he called the officers together after the discovery at the divide.

Reno’s position in the bottom, in the old river bed, was sheltered from fire from the hills by heavy timber, and was nearly a mile from the hills. I have never before heard that he was fired upon from those hills; but he was fired upon from the woods on the opposite side of the river. General Gibbon and I both thought the hills were too far away to give any effective fire. It must be remembered that the river bottom was heavily timbered for some distance above and below this position. This timber subsequently was cut for the construction of Fort Custer.

LIEUTENANT-COLONEL GREENE’S DEFENSE OF CUSTER

Hartford, Conn., September 1, 1904.

My Dear Sir:

I have read with great interest your discussion of the question of
General Custer’s alleged disobedience of orders, both in the
narrative of the Battle on the Little Big Horn and in the appendix
to the volume, and upon which you have asked my comment.

For whatever bearing it may have upon the propriety of any comment
of mine, let me say that General Custer was my intimate friend, and
that his first act after receiving his appointment in the Civil War
as a brigadier-general was to secure my appointment and detail to
him as adjutant-general, which relation I held until his muster out
of the volunteer service in 1866. I think no one knows better his
quality as a soldier and as a man. I know his virtues and his
defects, which were the defects of his virtues. He was a born
soldier, and specifically a born cavalry man. The true end of
warfare was to him not only a professional theory—it was an
instinct. When he was set to destroy an enemy, he laid his hand on
him as soon as possible, and never took it off. He knew the whole
art of war. But its arts and its instruments and their correct
professional handling were not in his eyes the end all of a
soldier’s career, to be satisfied with a technical performance. They
were the means and the tools in the terms of which and by the use of
which his distinct military genius apprehended and solved its
practical and fateful problems. When he grappled his task it was to
do it, not to go correctly through the proper motions to their
technical limit, and then hold himself excused.

He was remarkable for his keenness and accuracy in observation, for
his swift divination of the military significance of every element
of a situation, for his ability to make an instant and sound
decision, and then, for the instant, exhaustless energy with which
he everlastingly drove home his attack. And the swiftness and
relentless power of his stroke were great elements in the
correctness of his decisions as well as in the success of his
operations. He was wise and safe in undertaking that in which a man
slower in observation, insight and decision, and slower and less
insistent in action, would have judged wrongly and failed.

I knew Custer as a soldier when he was a brigade and division
commander under Pleasanton and Sheridan, the successive commanders
of the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac. Those who knew the
estimate in which those great commanders held him—the tasks they
committed to his soldierly intelligence and comprehension, his
fidelity and skill—need no reminder that in nothing of all their
dependence upon and confidence in him did he ever fail in letter or
spirit. I know how absolutely loyal he was under the conflicting
conditions which sometimes confront every subordinate charged with
grave responsibilities, and which test the sense of duty to the
utmost. He was true as steel. He was depended upon for great things
because he was dependable.

In temperament he was sanguine and ardent. He loved his friends; he
was impatient of every form of inefficiency and of pretense; he did
not highly esteem mere professionalism; he was impulsive and
sometimes abrupt in manner, but kind of heart; he was sensitive only
to unjust criticism; he despised intrigue, chicane and all meanness;
he was independent in opinion and judgment, and frank in their
expression; he was open in opposition, and fair to an enemy.

And it goes without saying that such a man had enemies—men who were
envious of his abilities, his achievements and his fame; men whom he
never sought to placate, and who sought envy’s balm in detraction
and hatred; men who could not measure him or be fair to him, but men
who in a pinch would have turned to him with unhesitating trust,
whether in his ability or his soldierly faith.

Did this man, this soldier, whose service throughout the Civil War
and a long career of frontier warfare was for eighteen years
unequaled for efficiency and brilliancy within the range of its
opportunities and responsibilities, who never failed his commanders,
who never disobeyed an order, nor disappointed an expectation, nor
deceived a friend—did this man, at the last, deny his whole life
history, his whole mental and moral habit, his whole character, and
wilfully disobey an understood order, or fail of its right execution
according to his best judgment, within the limits of his ability
under the conditions of the event; and, what is worse—and this is
what his detractors charge—did he not only disobey, but did he from
the inception of the enterprise plan to disobey—to deceive his
commander who trusted him, in order that he might get the
opportunity to disobey?

To any man who knew Custer, except those who for any reason hold a
brief against him, not only is the charge of premeditated,
deliberate disobedience absurd, but it is a foul outrage on one of
the memories that will never fail of inspiration while an American
army carries and defends an American flag.

In one of Mrs. Custer’s letters to me, narrating what took place
during the days of preparation for the General’s departure, she
wrote:

“A day before the expedition started, General Terry was in our house
alone with Autie (the General’s pet name). A.’s thoughts were calm,
deliberate, and solemn. He had been terribly hurt in Washington.
General Terry had applied for him to command the expedition. He was
returned to his regiment because General Terry had applied for him.
I know that he (Custer) felt tenderly and affectionately toward him.
On that day he hunted me out in the house and brought me into the
living-room, not telling me why. He shut the door, and very
seriously and impressively said: ‘General Terry, a man usually means
what he says when he brings his wife to listen to his statements. I
want to say that reports are circulating that I do not want to go
out to the campaign under you.’ (I supposed that he meant, having
been given the command before, he was unwilling to be a
subordinate.) ‘But I want you to know that I do want to go and serve
under you, not only that I value you as a soldier, but as a friend
and a man.’ The exact words were the strongest kind of a declaration
that he wished him to know he wanted to serve under him.”

That was Custer all over. And to any one who knew him—to any one who
can form a reasonable conception of the kind of a man he must needs
have been to have done for eighteen years what he had done and as he
had done it, and won the place and fame he had won—that statement
ends debate. Whatever of chagrin, disappointment, or irritation he
may have felt before, however unadvisedly the sore-hearted,
high-spirited man may have spoken with his lips when all was
undetermined, and his part and responsibility had not been assigned,
this true soldier, knowing the gossip of the camp, conscious
possibly it was not wholly without cause, however exaggerated, but
facing now his known duty and touched by the confidence of his
superior as Custer never failed to be touched, could not part from
his commander with a possible shadow resting between them. He knew
the speech of men might have carried to Terry’s mind the suggestion
of a doubt. And yet Terry had trusted him. He could not bear to part
without letting General Terry know that he was right to trust him.
That statement to Terry was a recognition of whatever folly of words
he might before have committed in his grief and anger; it was an
open purging of an upright soldier’s soul as an act honorably due
alike to superior and subordinate; it was, under the circumstances,
the instinctive response of a true man to the confidence of one who
had committed to him a trust involving the honor and fame of both.
Disobedience, whether basely premeditated, or with equal baseness
undertaken upon after-deliberation, is inconceivable, unless one
imputes to Custer a character void of every soldierly and manly
quality. With such an one discussion would be useless.

Upon the discussion itself, which is presented in the narrative and
in the appendix, I have little to say. In the opening paragraph of
the appendix, you say: “I presume the problem ... will never be
authoritatively settled, and that men will continue to differ upon
these questions until the end of time.”

In other words, the charge of disobedience can never be proved. The
proof does not exist. The evidence in the case forever lacks the
principal witness whose one and only definite order was to take his
regiment and go “in pursuit of the Indians whose trail was
discovered by Major Reno a few days since.” They were the objective;
they were to be located and their escape prevented. That was
Custer’s task. All the details were left, and necessarily left, to
his discretion. All else in the order of June 22d conveys merely the
“views” of the commander to be followed “unless you should see
sufficient reasons for departing from them.” The argument that
Custer disobeyed this order seems to resolve itself into two main
forms. One is trying to read into the order a precision and a
peremptory character which are not there and which no ingenuity can
put there, and to empty it of a discretion which is there and is
absolute; the other is in assuming or asserting that Custer departed
from General Terry’s views without “sufficient reasons.” And this
line of argument rests in part upon the imputation to Custer of a
motive and intent which was evil throughout, and in part upon what
his critic, in the light of later knowledge and the vain regrets of
hindsight, thinks he ought to have done, and all in utter ignorance
of Custer’s own views of the conditions in which, when he met them,
he was to find his own reasons for whatever he did or did not do.
Under that order, it was Custer’s views of the conditions when they
confronted him that were to govern his actions, whether they
contravened General Terry’s views or not. If in the presence of the
actual conditions, in the light of his great experience and
knowledge in handling Indians, he deemed it wise to follow the
trail, knowing it would reach them, and deeming that so to locate
them would be the best way to prevent their escape, then he obeyed
that order just as exactly as if, thinking otherwise, he had gone
scouting southward where they were not, and neither Terry nor he
expected them to be.

To charge disobedience is to say that he wilfully and with a wrong
motive and intent did that which his own military judgment forbade;
for it was his own military judgment, right or wrong, that was to
govern his own actions under the terms of that order. The quality of
his judgment does not touch the question of obedience. If he
disobeyed that order, it was by going contrary to his own judgment.
That was the only way he could disobey it. If men differ as to
whether he did that, they will differ.

Respectfully yours,
JACOB L. GREENE.

VI.

To sum up, I suggest this as a possible line of investigations by which the student may determine the question for himself:

First. Were Terry’s written orders definite and explicit?

Second. Were they intelligent orders capable of execution?

Third. Did these orders admit of more than one meaning?

Fourth. What are the various meanings, if more than one?

Fifth. Did Custer carry them out in any of their meanings?

Sixth. Did Custer depart from them?

Seventh. If so, how far?

Eighth. Such being the case, was he justified in so departing by the exigencies of the situation?

Ninth. Were the consequences of such a departure serious?

Tenth. Did Custer receive verbal orders from Terry at the last moment?

Eleventh. If so, when?

Twelfth. Did these verbal orders supersede the written orders?

In closing, I repeat that I should be glad to be convinced that I have erred in my conclusions; and that if any one can convince me that Custer did not disobey, or that in doing so he was justified in his disobedience, I shall make the fullest public amends for my expression of opinion that he did and that he was not.[135] If this Appendix shall cause any light to be thrown on the affidavit so often referred to, it will serve an excellent purpose; for, I say again, I shall consider the establishment of that affidavit as settling the question.

The subject is now left with the student. Perhaps I cannot more fitly close the discussion than by this quotation from the confidential report of General Terry by General Sheridan, dated July 2, 1875:

“I do not tell you this to cast any reflection on Custer, for
whatever errors he may have committed he has paid the penalty, and
you cannot regret his loss more than I do; but I felt that our plan
must have been successful had it been carried out, and I desire you
to know the facts.”

-----

Footnote 112:

All notes in this appendix are signed by the initials of their writers
to identify them.—C. T. B.

Footnote 113:

Such as Congressman Finerty’s graphic account in his book, “War-path
and Bivouac;” Dr. Charles S. Eastman’s paper in the _Chautauqua
Magazine_, Vol. XXXI., No. 4, 1900; and Mr. Hamlin Garland’s report of
Two Moon’s account of the battle in _McClure’s Magazine_, Vol. XI.,
No. 5, September, 1898.—C. T. B.

Footnote 114:

General G. A. Forsyth writes me that he considers Colonel Godfrey one
of the ablest officers in the United States Army—in which opinion I
concur.—C. T. B.

Footnote 115:

These two authorities seem to differ as to just when the conversation
took place. Andrews, apparently quoting Miles, says: “Just before
Custer began his fatal ride.” Miles, quoting the mysterious and
unknown affiant, says the conversation took place the night before,
and at Custer’s tent. The difference is radical and, in view of
Colonel Godfrey’s suggestion below, is material. Besides, the regiment
marched away at noon on the 22d, and that is the date of the order;
hence, Custer had no orders the night before. The regiment passed
Generals Terry, Gibbon, and Custer in review as it marched away. When,
then, was the precise hour at which this alleged conversation took
place?—C. T. B.

Footnote 116:

I have it in my own library, of course, and have consulted it
frequently.—C. T. B.

Footnote 117:

This is overdrawn. Custer had neither infantry, artillery nor wagons
with him; Gibbon had cavalry, infantry and artillery, but no wagons,
be it remembered.—C.T.B.

Footnote 118:

Report of Secretary of War, Vol. I., 1876, page 443. Italics in
quotation above are mine.—C. T. B.

Footnote 119:

The reference is to the article in the _Journal of the Military
Service Institution_ mentioned above.—C. T. B.

Footnote 120:

I have had them before me constantly for the past six months, and have
examined them most carefully again and again, verifying quotations,
etc.—C. T. B.

Footnote 121:

If the orders were preposterous, or involved movements that were
profitless and absurd, why did not Custer point out these patent
absurdities to Terry and Gibbon _before he started_? There had been no
change in conditions; the trail, the Indian position, and everything
else were just as the orders predicted.—C. T. B.

Footnote 122:

The time of the arrival of Terry at the Little Big Horn is assumed to
be June 26th. What authority there is for that assumption I do not now
recall. It is not embodied in the “instructions.” We of the command
knew nothing of it till after the battle; after Terry’s arrival, that
is.—E. S. GODFREY.

Footnote 123:

Having located them, guess or not, the conditions were exactly those
contemplated in the orders.—C. T. B.

Footnote 124:

But if Custer had followed his orders, he would not have been nearly
in contact with the enemy—there’s the rub!—C. T. B.

Footnote 125:

This I consider a good point in Custer’s favor.—C. T. B.

Footnote 126:

Italics mine.—E. S. GODFREY.

Footnote 127:

Colonel Godfrey made this statement in answer to a question from me.
On this point see Appendix B.—C. T. B.

Footnote 128:

Again I ask General Miles if this is the explanation of the affidavit?
If so, how does it accord with the statement that the conversation
occurred the night before the command separated? Or, has General Miles
written carelessly “the night before,” and does he mean just before
the final march past?—C. T. B.

Footnote 129:

Personally I do not believe that the sentence in question was in the
order given to Custer. For if it was, why should Terry suppress it,
since it only confirms his own claims? Besides I should be loath to
believe that Terry would suppress anything. The sentence may have been
in a rough draft of the orders, and not in the final copy.—C. T. B.

Footnote 130:

This also is very interesting and seems to point to the order as a
“preposterous” one under the circumstances. It may be so; but if so, I
wish Custer had pointed it out to Terry before he started.—C. T. B.

Footnote 131:

Would General Miles excuse subordinates for such obedience (?) of his
orders for a combined movement?—C. A. WOODRUFF.

Footnote 132:

No italics in original.—E. S. GODFREY.

Footnote 133:

This is interesting, and is the first suggestion I have met with that
the phrase refers to the position of Terry and Custer when the orders
were prepared or delivered, and not to the time anticipated when
Custer should meet the Sioux. I regret that I cannot agree with this
interpretation. Still, it is possible that such an interpretation is
certainly a point for Custer.—C. T. B.

Footnote 134:

Italics mine.—E. S. GODFREY.

Footnote 135:

At the risk of tiring the reader, but because I am sensitive in the
matter and anxious not to be misunderstood, I append here a letter
written by me to a sister of General Custer, who had expressed the
hope that I would not take the position that he disobeyed his orders

July 13th, 1904.

My Dear Madam:

I have received and read and reread your letter of the 12th inst.
That letter and the thought of Mrs. Custer, whose character, in
common with all Americans, I respect and admire, taken in
connection with the position which my conscience, much against my
will, has compelled me to assume, has filled me with deep regret.

Having read thus far, you will undoubtedly divine that I am
compelled to say that I believe General Custer did disobey his
orders. I have nowhere stated that I consider him guilty of
rashness. I have also made it plain, I think, that even though he
did disobey his orders, the ultimate annihilation of his battalion
was due to the cowardice or incapacity of Major Reno.

I remember to have seen General Custer when I was a boy in Kansas.
My father, who was a veteran of the Civil War, had a great
admiration for him. I was present when the bodies of the officers
of the Seventh Cavalry were brought back for reinterment at Fort
Leavenworth. My wife, a Southern woman, is a cousin of the late
General Dod Ramseur, who was General Custer’s intimate friend. The
family have never forgotten General Custer’s kindness when Ramseur
was killed.

I did, and still have, a warm admiration for the brilliant and
soldierly qualities of General Custer. He was, and is, my beau
ideal of a cavalry soldier. When I began to write these articles,
I would not hear the charge that he had disobeyed orders. But I
have been compelled by my investigations to take that position. I
cannot tell you how painful it has been to me, and it is, to come
to this conclusion. I have thought long and deeply over the
matter.

Of course I read General Hughes’ now famous article. I did not,
however, allow that article alone to determine me; but I carefully
considered every account. I examined every discussion which I
could find. Not only that, I corresponded with a number of
officers, among them being Lieutenant-General Miles, Major-General
Hughes, Brigadier-General C. A. Woodruff, Brigadier-General
Carrington, and Colonel Godfrey. The remarks of these officers
were submitted to one another. Their statements were weighed and
digested with the utmost care by me. I could come to no other
conclusion than that I have arrived at.

As an Appendix I have inserted in full my correspondence with
different officers concerning the matter. I have been glad to
print all that Colonel Godfrey, who has indeed been a powerful
advocate in opposition to my views, has written. I have called
attention to one significant fact which, in my opinion, would
fully clear General Custer from the charge of disobedience. That
is the affidavit of an alleged witness to the last conversation
between Terry and General Custer.

General Miles refers to this affidavit in his book, “Personal
Recollections of General Nelson A. Miles.” President E. Benjamin
Andrews also refers to it in his book, “The United States in our
Own Time.” I wrote to President Andrews, who gave Miles as his
authority. I wrote to General Miles _three times_, registering the
last letter, asking him to substantiate the affidavit, the
existence of which was doubted by many army officers. General
Miles has made no reply. I take it for granted, therefore, that
_he cannot substantiate the affidavit_.

I have said frankly that if he can prove this affidavit and
establish the credibility of the affiant, I will make public
amends in the most ample manner for having said General Custer
disobeyed his orders. I have said that if _anybody_ can convince
me that I have been wrong in my conclusion; if any evidence can be
produced which will establish the contrary, I shall be most happy
to retract what I have said in any possible way that may be
suggested to me.

I beg you to believe that I have written in no spirit of animosity
to General Custer. My real feelings for General Custer can easily
be seen from my article on the Battle of the Washita, to which you
have referred. It would be most agreeable to me if you would
forward this letter to Mrs. Custer.

Again deploring the unfortunate conclusion I am conscientiously
compelled to arrive at, and regretting more than I can express
that I must give pain to Mrs. Custer, to you, and to the friends
of General Custer, I am,

Yours sincerely,
CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY.