Copyright by D. F. Barry
| MAJ. JOEL H. ELLIOTT[[47]] | CAPT. LOUIS McL. HAMILTON[[47]] |
| CAPT. JAMES M. BELL | CAPT. J. W. BENTEEN |
SOME OFFICERS OF THE SEVENTH CAVALRY IN THE WASHITA EXPEDITION
The band of Indians under his gaze was that of Black Kettle,[[48]] Head Chief of the Cheyennes since the death of Roman Nose, one of the most ferocious and brutal of the Plains Indians. The blood of scores was upon his hands and upon the hands of his followers as well. Torture, infamy, treachery, shame beyond estimation, had stained that band. Even then in the camp there were helpless captives, poor women whose fate cannot be described or dwelt upon.
When Custer had satisfied himself at last that he had found the camp for which he had been searching—which appeared to be a very large one from the number of lodges which they thought they could make out in the distance—leaving the scouts to observe the Indians, he tramped back through the snow to the command, and by messengers summoned the officers about him. Taking off their sabers for the moment, so that their clanking would not betray them, the officers crept to the crest of the hill and made themselves as familiar with the situation as they could by such inspection.
There Custer gave them their final orders. The regiment was divided into four squadrons; Major Elliott, with three troops, G, H, and M, was ordered to circle cautiously to the left and get in the rear of the Indian camp. Captain Thompson, with troops B and F, was directed to make a long detour to the right and join Elliott. Captain Myers, with troops E and I, was commanded to move a shorter distance to the right and take position on the left of Thompson, while Custer himself, with the four remaining troops—Captain Hamilton commanding one squadron, comprising troops A and C, Captain West, another, of troops D and K, with the Osages and scouts and forty sharp-shooters under Adjutant Cook—was to approach the village from the point where they then stood.
Not a sound was to be made, not a shot fired, not a signal given. The attack would be delivered at dawn. When they heard the bugler sounding the charge in the still air of the morning they were to rush in immediately. In order not to impede their movements the men were directed to remove their overcoats and leave them in care of the guard in the rear before the attack was delivered. Then, after hearty handshakes and whispered salutations, the officers assembled their several squadrons and silently started out upon the long detours necessary to enable them to reach their designated positions.
The Indian village was located in the valley of a small river in the Indian Territory, an affluent of the Canadian called the Washita. It was in a deep depression, below the surrounding country, and was well sheltered by trees on the banks of the stream, here easily fordable. By the time all preparations had been made in Custer’s own detachment it still wanted some four hours to dawn. The troops with Custer had nothing to do but wait where they were, and a weary, freezing wait it was. So insistent was the general that there should be no noise that he refused to allow the men even to beat their breasts to keep up circulation, or to stamp their feet to ward off the numbing cold. Conversation was forbidden. They were dealing with a warrior who was the most watchful of foemen, with men who could detect an enemy, as the Osage had the fire a mile away, seemingly by instinct. They must take every precaution. The men dismounted and stood uncomplainingly by the side of their horses. Some of them wrapped themselves in their overcoats, and attaching their bridle reins to their wrists, lay down on the ground and actually went to sleep.
About an hour before dawn Custer despatched the last squadron under Captain Myers, who had but a short distance to go, and then, as the first pale grayness of the morning began to steal over the eastern hills and mingle with the moonlight, he gave orders to call the troops to attention. The first sergeants went through the ranks and by a touch of the hand woke the sleeping men. Stiff and numb with the cold, they staggered to their feet, took off their overcoats, left them under the care of a small guard, and mounted their horses. Their sabers had been left behind and they were armed with revolvers and Spencer carbines. The officers quickly formed up their troops and with whispered words placed themselves at the head.
The troops were deployed in line, Hamilton’s squadron to the right, West’s to the left. Cook’s sharp-shooters were about forty yards in advance of the left, dismounted, their horses being left with the guard. Some distance in front of all the rest rode Custer. Following him was his bugler. Next to the bugler was the indomitable regimental band. The orders were, in Hamilton’s last words, “Now men, keep cool; fire low, and not too rapidly.”