Daily tobacco leaf-chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1890-1895, 1890-06-19
THE CUSTER MASSACRE.
The Days That Followed the Slaughter o
the Little Big Horn.

the Little Big Horn.
From settlement to settlement along the
frontier few the rumors, and there came
thronging into Fargo, the nearest telegraph
and railway station, a crowd Of anxious
and excited men-men who had left the
harvest fields half reaped, their cattle wan
dering on the prairies, their daily tasks un-
accomplished and almost unthought of.
When the worst was confirmed, when it
was known to be certainty that on that
distant plain lay every member of that gal
liant band-C Custer and both his brave young
brothers, Calhoun, Yates, Crittenden,
Cook, Smith, Reilly-no words can picture
the gloom that settled upon us, In every
home, from the few pretentious mansions
then erected to the humblest cabin of the
pioneer, there.was grief and hot indigna-
ton.
/ cannot enter into the much mooted
question of Reno's lack of courage or Ben
teens disobedience to orders. / can only
say that from that day forth, in the eyes
and on the head of every frontersman, was
Marcus Reno branded Coward, and had
he then, in the first wild outburst of their
grief and anger, fallen into the hands of
those sturdy settlers, short would have
been his shrift Neither do | express any
opinion on the vexed question of the In
dian problem. But even now, If you at
tempt to justify the action of the Indian
bureau to those frontiersmen, you will dis
cover ideas of right and wrong, unham
pered by legal technicalities, and be met
with the reply, Cluster and his brave band
were here in defense of our homes and fam
lilies. They were shot down with bullets
from Winchester rifles furnished to hostile
Indians by agents under the authority of
the United States government"
The day that brought the bereaved wo-
men, wives and sisters from Fort Lincoln
through Fargo will hardly be forgotten by
those who witnessed the scene. AS the
train drew near the station (hotel and sta
ton in one) it seemed as though the insen
safe steel and iron were conscious of their
freight of grief and woe-so silently re-
volved the wheels, so noiselessly glided the
cars along the rail. Within those cars
were sheltered twenty-six bereaved and
desolate womenl
They had said good-by to the fort, with
all its memories and associations, and were
on their way to such semblances of home
as might still be spared them. Many a
time has the iron horse sped swiftly by
bearing to eastern friends all that remained
of some loved son or brother, but surely
never before or since has it swept over
those broad, green prairies laden with such
freight of human sorrow.
The train stopped, and as the sad process
sion left the car and moved slowly across
the wide platform, densely packed with
citizens and settlers, men stood with barred
and bowed heads, as in the presence of the
dead. A vast throng was there-piazza
and balconies packed. Men and women
called by no idle curiosity or morbid love
of excitement, but swayed by a sympathy
so intense it seemed utterly irrepressible,
yet knew we'll no word of comfort was pos
sible
Despite the crowd the deepest silence pre-
vailed, save now and then among the look
ers on woman's sob was heard, while over
many and manga manly face tears streamed
unchecked and UNDECIDED. Slowly the be-
reaved ones entered the hotel aud passed
up the staircase. Mrs. Custer came first
with dropping head, her slender figure
bowed, her face perfectly colorless and so
little strength left she could scarcely reach
the top of the stairway.
Years have passed, and upon those bleed
ing hearts kindly time has laid his heal
ing balm. On the battlefield where the
conquered heroes lay heaped, with up
turned faces and mutilated forms, the
green grass grows and wild flowers bloom.
Where once we dwelt with only canvas
walls between our faces and the blue skies
now rises n populous city with stately
churches and spacious mansions But so
long as men glory in deeds of valor and
chivalry, and hearts throb with pity at the
! story of human pain and sorrow, so long
shall live the memory of Custer and his
brave battalion.-Sara Clarke in Denver
Republican.