Lt. Charles (Carlo) De Rudio - A Co.

[stevewilk]

Jan 5, 2013 12:03:02 GMT -5 Clair said:

I don't think anyone has brought up this incident before:

Michno's Encylopedia, pg. 243:

"1 June 1870, North Fork of the Solomon River (North-Central Kansas)

Shortly after Lt. Charles C. DeRudio and Company K, 7th Cavalry, had escorted a train of settlers to the plains along the North Solomon river, about 75 Indians, probably Cheyenne, stole the emigrants' cattle. DeRudio and his men, camped downstream, rode after the raiders, wounding four Indians and recovering much of the stock. Later, at Ellsworth, Kansas, the thankful citizens presented DeRudio with a gold-mounted saber. Six years later, DeRudio would carry the saber into battle at the Little Bighorn."

I had never seen that DeRudio's saber was a personal one, and not government issue. It should still be in existence somewhere?

Clair

Clair, DeRudio's saber is shown on pg. 89 of Glen Swanson's book. Photo credit reads Gene Autry Western Heritage Museum in Los Angeles. Quiet an ornate weapon; I would think DeRudio would cherish it as a keepsake and not take it on campaign. The scabbard is inscribed:

Presented by the members of
"G" Troop 7th Cavalry to their
Troop Commander
Lieut. Charles C. DeRudio in
Camp Solomon River Kansas
June 25th 1870

Note the date. Rather ironic. Swanson says after the sword was presented, Custer stated that it would be the last such presentation given to any officer of the Seventh Cavalry. Swanson mentions that the citizens presented DeRudio with a "memorial signed by 115 souls of the Solomon Valley"...while the inscription mentions the sword being presented by the men of his company.

[Clair]

Great spot report, Steve! Odd that the source of the saber is in dispute...from the citizens, or from the Soldiers? Or perhaps from the Soldiers but paid for by the citizens?

I think the citizens must have been the impetus for this, because DeRudio was only the acting commander on that mission, not the normal commander, which is whom the men on their own would have presented a gift (that is common in military units...my "man cave" is full of such).

DeRudio may not have impressed Benteen or French, but he certainly impressed the people he saved!

Clair

[keogh]

Here's more reported commentary from Count DeRudio regarding his analysis of Reno's decisions that day, providing support for the expressed views of Capt. Carter:

HIS OPINION ON RENO'S RETREAT.
Special Dispatch to The Tribune.

Bismarck, D. T., Jan. 13 -- Lieut. C. C. De Rudio, the noted Italian officer of the Seventh Cavalry, left to-day for Chicago to attend as a witness in the Reno inquiry. In an interview here De Rudio expressed the opinion that Reno made a fatal mistake when he retreated from the wood just a few minutes before Reno stampeded. De Rudio saw Gen. Custer look down on him, and then disappear behind the bluffs for the lower village. He said Custer must have calculated that Reno would maintain his position, and, resting under that supposition, made the final charge. Reno, however, fled before Custer got into his fight, and gave Indians around him the opportunity to fall on Custer en masse.

DeRudio's bitter hostility to Custer is well known, and hence the significance of his evidence. Reno's position in the wood DeRudio considered impregnable, and nothing but fear could have prompted his retreat, which resulted in so many being killed and wounded,--more than was lost on the bluffs during the whole fight.

-- Chicago Tribune, General News, 14 Jan 1879

[keogh]

Thanks to Herosrest for posting this up on the Lt. Sturgis thread. Since it also involves Lt. DeRudio, I thought I would post it up here as well:

The Perrysburg Journal (Wood County, Ohio), 31 August 1877)

A Touching Episode.

There was a pathetic scene at Fort Abraham Lincoln a few days ago, when the Seventh Cavalry, Gen. S. D. Sturgis command, which was headed In the field last year by the gallant but unfortunate Custer, marched into camp. As the gray troop (Company E), under Lieut. C. C. De Rudio was passing in review before the General’s house he came out of the door and to the gate with a guidon in his hand and ordered the command to a halt. The battalion came to a halt and present.

On the porch were congregated the members of the General’s family, consisting of his beautiful wife, his pretty daughter Ella, another little girl and their only remaining son, all dressed In deep mourning. The General, with his eyes full of tears, addressing Lieut. De Rudio, said: ” I am charged by my wife to present your company with this guidon in remembrance of our dear son, who was attached to it when he was killed. I hope you will appreciate it; take good care of it and honor the memory of our dearly beloved boy.”

The Lieutenant took the guidon in his hand, raised it and replied: “Dear General, I thank you and Mrs. Sturgis in the name of my company. This guidon will guide them and myself to revenge the blood of your son, and I assure you that nobody shall capture it while a man of my command lives, for we shall defend it with the last drop of our blood.”

The General’s son, Lieut. John Sturgis, it may be remembered, fell in Custer’s fatal battle, and, at his father’s request, was buried on the field of valor where he fell.

[trish]

Gentlemen,re De Rudios escape from Devil's Island did he ever give a written or verbal account of how he managed to achieve that?Best wishes Trish.

[menwithcuster]

Trish,
There is an excellent account of De Rudio's escape from French Guiana in December 1859, in 'Per la Libertà' (in Italian - not available in English), published in 1913, which can be read/downloaded online, as told by De Rudio to Cesare Crespi shortly before Old Rudy died on 1 November 1910. Contrary to popular opinion I've failed to find a shred of evidence that De Rudio ever set foot on Île du Diable (Devil's Island) let alone make his escape from it. De Rudio himself says (in Crespi) it was from Île Royale (Royal Island). Earlier today I circulated (by email) a short piece about the misleading information found on De Rudio's marriage certificate, which I think makes for interesting reading. You can get in touch with me via the 'Contact' page of my website - www.menwithcuster.co.uk

[Gerry]

Interesting article from the Tribune. It states that McDougalls testified that De Rudio said to him last summer if the troops had not been commanded by a coward they would all have been killed.

Bismarck tribune., February 08, 1879

Attachments:

[keogh]

Here is a newly discovered account of the Little Big Horn battle by Charles De Rudio provided to us by noted LBH scholar Jerome Greene (via Lee Noyes) that was found in the Samuel D. Sturgis materials in the U.S. Army Military History Institute collections at Carlisle, Pennsylvania. From Jerome Greene: "The DeRudio recollection, seemingly prepared some time after Wounded Knee, mentions witnessing Custer and two officers appearing “on top of the highest hill ..., in front of where I was [in the brush and woods along the river below]. He cheered us with his hat. He was dismounted and soon disappeared.” This reference did not appear in DeRudio’s 1876 account."

Jerome Greene further states that he received this account "from Colonel Samuel Russell, who has created an important blog entitled “The Army at Wounded Knee,” which offers much new and useful historical material related to Wounded Knee. If Little Bighorn students have not checked it out, I urge them to do so. Colonel Russell has suggested that I circulate these Little Bighorn accounts among those who "have an interest....” I believe that your readership well qualifies."

To that end, here is De Rudio's account of the Little Big Horn battle, with my annotations in brackets. His account begins just after Reno's valley skirmish line has fallen back to the timber position. PART I

TWO NIGHTS IN THE BRUSH.
AN INCIDENT OF THE LITTLE BIGHORN FIGHT.

"There is your horse, Lieutenant." When the man spoke these words, I was kneeling on top of the dry creek [ie. the dry embankment surrounding the landward side of the Reno timber area in the LBH valley], with seven or eight men [of A Co.] guarding a pony crossing to prevent the Indians from passing it and flanking the right of our skirmish line. [Note: This comment by De Rudio is important in locating his position along the dry embankment at the northwest of the timber position, close to the LBH river.] "I don't want any horse. Keep down there." [he replied.] "They are retreating, sir," said the bugler. [Note: The bugler from A Co. did not refer to this movement as a charge or a breakout. He called it a "retreat," and this before it even began.]

"No order has been given for retreat, nor has there been any bugle call," I replied. [Note: The notable fact that Major Reno would contemplate such a maneuver without notifying his troops via bugle calls would suggest to many the actual state of mind Reno was currently in at that time.] But the few men that were with me, when they heard that the command was retreating, ran to their horses, which were standing in the bottom of the [dry] creek, and in spite of my orders to remain where they were, they mounted and followed the retreating party. [Ed: One should note the ease and rapidity in which panic and fear can infect otherwise effective troopers during such a movement. De Rudio had just recently joined A Company and had not yet established his respect or authority among the members of this troop.]

I then came down from the [dry] bank and mounted my horse, at the same time cautioning the two or three men who had remained with me to go out together, but they were already anxious and confused. I waited until I saw every man [of my party] mounted, and as we were about to start, I glanced at the top of the bank I had just left, when I saw there, planted in the ground, a guidon [ed. apparently from A Co.]. I said to the last man that had mounted his horse, who was also the last man to leave the top of the bank, "Go back and get that guidon"; and he answered me, "Guidon be damned! Lieutenant, they are coming close on us." He put spurs to his horse, and away he went.

I went back to get the guidon, spurring my horse up the steep bank, and as I reached for the staff, I saw, not more than thirty yards in front of me, about twenty-five or thirty Indians coming. When they saw me, they fired a volley at me, but too high; and with the guidon in my left hand, and the reigns and revolver in my right, I rode down the bank and struck off through the thick underbrush of the [dry] creek bottom, and before the Indians that had fired had reached the [top of the] bank, I had left. I was sufficiently hidden by the underwood to be covered from their shots.

The bottom of this dry creek [at that location] was perhaps forty or fifty yards wide. I was going through it as fast as I could when the guidon became entangled in the branches and I was obliged to dismount, [to] free the flag and lead my horse to the south bank of the creek. When the Indians had reached the [dry] bank I had left, they could hear me going through the brush, but could not see me. They fired many shots at the sound, and the bullets cut the branches all about me, but fortunately, none struck me nor the horse. Had I followed the open path [along the base of the dry embankment] I could not have got out of the bottom of the creek without being killed or wounded.

When I struggled up the steep south bank of the [dry] creek, pulling my horse up after me and reached the top, I was astonished to see there in front of me, and not more than forty or fifty yards distant, hundreds of Indians, all with their backs towards me, and shooting at the retreating soldiers. Through the smoke, I could distinctly see that my retreating comrades had all crossed the creek (Little Big Horn [river]) and reached the hills [beyond]. I saw then that I was entirely cut off, and expecting the Indians that had fired at me to come out of the woods behind me, I perceived that I was lost. I then decided to cut my way through the Indians that were [in the valley] before me in the desperate hope that in the confusion and in their fear of hitting each other, I might pass through the host of savages. At all events, I could kill some of them and die like an American soldier.

The guidon was in my way, and I threw it down the bank of the [dry] creek, and with a thought of love for my wife and children, prepared to mount my horse. I had one foot in the stirrup when a young brave came out of the wood about thirty yards on my right, and as he perceived me, gave a yell and fired. The bullet hit my horse's thigh. The animal made a jump and my foot slipped from the stirrup and the reigns from my hand. At that moment, the savages in front of me, hearing the shot behind them, turned and saw me. I was now trying to catch my horse. He was between me and the Indians. They fired a volley which killed my horse, and I made a jump to [below] the bank of the creek, which saved my life. Had I been five or six yards from the bank I could not have reached it alive, but fortunately, I was very near. I dropped under the bank and stood ready to kill any Indian that would have been bold enough to look over it. They fired several volleys at the spot where I had dropped [down the bank], and some of the balls struck the bank over my head, but I was still unhurt.

(to be continued)

[Gerry]

Feb 28, 2016 17:49:46 GMT -5 keogh said:

Here is a newly discovered account of the Little Big Horn battle by Charles De Rudio provided to us by noted LBH scholar Jerome Greene (via Lee Noyes) that was found in the Samuel D. Sturgis materials in the U.S. Army Military History Institute collections at Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

This article was published in the Harper's Weekly and then reprinted in the Omaha Daily Bee, October 08, 1897, Page 11. It does appear that it is word for word.

Here is the link for the Omaha Daily Bee, October 08, 1897, Page 11

Gerry

[keogh]

Feb 29, 2016 10:08:08 GMT -5 Gerry said:

Feb 28, 2016 17:49:46 GMT -5 keogh said:

Here is a newly discovered account of the Little Big Horn battle by Charles De Rudio provided to us by noted LBH scholar Jerome Greene (via Lee Noyes) that was found in the Samuel D. Sturgis materials in the U.S. Army Military History Institute collections at Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

This article was published in the Harper's Weekly and then reprinted in the Omaha Daily Bee, October 08, 1897, Page 11. It does appear that it is word for word.

Here is the link for the Omaha Daily Bee, October 08, 1897, Page 11

Gerry

Thanks for that info Gerry. Jerome Greene speculated it was written sometime in the 1890's, but your source would narrow that down to about 1897.

garryowen,

keogh

[keogh]

De Rudio's account of the Little Big Horn battle (1897), with my annotations in brackets. PART II

In two or three minutes I heard a terrible yelling among the Indians and their firing [at me] ceased. Wondering at the cause of the silence, I raised my head cautiously, parted the tall grass on the [upper] edge of the bank, and looking through, I saw the Indians all gazing up the river and pointing in that direction [ie. upstream to the south]. As I looked, I saw Captain Benteen's column coming over the hills. [Note: Reno's support had arrived only a few minutes after his retreat from the timber in the valley.] Of course, I was glad to see this, and hoped they would come down [to the valley] and charge the enemy, and give me the only chance I could have for joining them. But after a few minutes of hope, the column disappeared, and at the same time I heard heavy volleys on the other side of the village [ie. to the north -- from Custer's wing, marking the start of the Custer Fight shortly after Reno left the valley] and immediately the greater part of the Indians started off in that direction.

During the interval between the appearance of Benteen's column [near Ford A] and its disappearance [behind the bluffs as it made its ascent], Reno's command, which was scattered in confusion over the hills, rallied and came together. I then saw that my only chance [of survival] was to follow the bottom of the creek [ie. Little Big Horn River] under cover of the underbrush, get as near as possible to the foot of the hill where Reno was, cross the river, and run up the hill, or else, stay in the woods until night and then join my command. The Indians that were left [in the area] were all on the west side of the stream [ie. Little Big Horn River]. From where I was, I could distinctly see Reno's command.

I believe that a few minutes before Reno's retreat [ie. about 2:00 pm according to the Participant Timeline and both De Rudio and Gerard's own timepieces] I saw General Custer and two other officers on top of the highest hill in the right hand [side of the river -- or east of the river], in front of where I was. He cheered us with his hat. He was dismounted and soon disappeared. [Note: If De Rudio's observation of these 3 figures occurred in the vicinity of el. 3411, roughly 1/4 mile north of Reno Hill, it would likely be that of Custer's Indian scouts rather than Custer or his officers, as the latter had left that area at least 20 minutes earlier. If however, De Rudio's observation was made looking further to the north at what is today called upper Boyer's Bluff, then the timing of such sighting would by a much closer fit, either for Custer or for Mitch Boyer and the Crow scouts.]

I was picking my way through the wood when I heard in a low voice, "Lieutenant, Lieutenant." I looked around and there squatted under the brush were private O'Neil of G Troop, Mr. Gerard the interpreter, and the scout Jackson. The two latter had their horses with them. The brave soldier had had his horse killed in the retreat. I had said to the scout and interpreter that they had better let their horses go, as they might neigh and call the attention of the Indians, who we could see passing backward and forward at the edge of the [dry] bank or the creek [ie. Little Big Horn River] within a few yards from where we were. They declined to do this. I then left them and told them that I would try to follow the bottom of the creek [LBH River] and try to reach the foot of the [Reno] hill.

During this time, there was heavy firing on the north side of the village [ie. from Custer's wing]. I reached the clearing which I was defending before the retreat [from the timber] and which was, perhaps, fifteen or twenty feet wide at the bottom of the creek. When I got to the edge of it, I saw that I could not easily cross there without being seen by the Indians who were constantly passing backward and forward near it. I remained at the edge of the clearing, watching for a chance to cross it unperceived, when an Indian came right up within a few feet of me. He cut off a switch and went on. I then saw I was too much exposed and could not cross the clearing without being seen, so I decided to make my way into the thickest of the brush and stay there until night.

In looking about for a good hiding place, I found among the debris of driftwood a hole. In entered it and took all of my pistol cartridges out of my belt, putting them on the ground, ready to use in case of being discovered. I had not been there a minute when I heard two pistol shots so near that I saw the curling smoke over my head, and soon after I heard the singing of Indian women near me. I cautiously raised my head, and there within four or five yards were five or six squaws mutilating a dead soldier. The two shots I heard were no doubt fired at the dead man. I felt tempted to fire at them, but thought it better to keep quiet and not fire until I was discovered. At the same time I thought that those women were going through the woods searching for dead bodies, and that they might discover me, and this would be the time to fire. Pretty soon another squaw further up the [dry] bank called the women and they all went away. There was a dead Indian up there, and they mourned over him and picked him up and carried him away.

(to be continued)

[keogh]

De Rudio's account of the Little Big Horn battle (1897), with my annotations in brackets. PART III

Soon after they left I heard a crunching noise like that made by a number of horses coming through the woods, but I soon discovered that I was mistaken. The Indians had fired the timber and the smoke soon forced me out of my hiding place. I moved away a little distance when I again heard a voice calling, "Lieutenant." I advanced toward that welcome sound, and there, under the roots of a very large cottonwood tree projecting over the bank of the main channel of the creek [ie. the Little Big Horn River], were the three men I had left about an hour before. [Note: This would place this event at about 3:30 p.m. according to the Participant Timeline.] The two scouts had left their horses where I had first met them, but having stuffed some grass in their mouths to prevent their calling. The fire, which at first had been coming toward us, now traveled in another direction, and soon it began to gain, but not much. We concluded that our best plan was to remain where we were until night, and then, under cover of the darkness, to join the command on the hill.

I mentioned that after the disappearance of Benteen's column [from the Ford A area] I heard the firing of tremendous volleys on the north side of the village. These continuous volleys [from Custer's wing] lasted about twenty minutes, and pretty soon, after it ceased [ed. De Rudio means when the fighting on Custer's field ceased several hours later, not when the volley fire he heard for 20 minutes ceased], a horde of savages returned from the north side of the village and surrounded Reno's command, which had then been reinforced by the arrival of Benteen's three troops and the troop of McDougall with the pack train. When I saw the return of the savages, I imagined that Custer had been defeated, and I thought that he had retreated to where Reno was. The fight on the [Reno] hill continued all day [from that point on] until night.

About 9 o'clock the two scouts went to get their horses and we started to go out of the woods, intending to go straight to Reno's hill, but we soon found that we could not get through the line of watching Indians without being seen, so we decided to make a detour across the three miles of plain and ford the river where we had crossed it that morning. It was a moonlight [sic. moonlit] night, but cloudy. The plain was covered with wild sage and very sandy. The two scouts were mounted on their horses and I took hold of the tail of Gerard's, and O'Neil that of the scout, Jackson, and in single file we boldly proceeded to cross the plain. There were many parties of Indians moving about, some coming and some going, and often we found ourselves within fifty or sixty yards of these parties. Of course, when we saw them before us, we turned aside, so as not to meet them, and in passing them, O'Neil and I would move up on the opposite side of the horses so that the enemy could not see that there was anyone on foot. In that way, after having successfully passed three of these parties, we reached the timber and soon after the bank of the Little Big Horn.

But here we were obliged to deviate from our course. We missed the ford [ie. Ford A] and new [sic. knew] that we had struck the river below it [ie. downriver to the north], so we followed the bank up the river as closely as the thick woods would permit. We were going in single file, Gerard in front and I holding on by the tail of his horse, when all at once we heard in front of us, "How." There before us was a squad of Indians. Gerard put his spurs to his horse and I had to let go the tail, and in an instant he had disappeared through the wood. Jackson did the same thing. I dropped on my knees among the briars, holding my pistol ready to fire.

The Indians laughed and called out to the riders to come back, that they were Indians, and when they saw that the fugitives did not answer them, by the way they acted, I was convinced that they thought the riders were white men. I was then but three or four yards of the nearest Indian and could distinctly see them, as I had the sky to help me. For a little while they talked among themselves in a low tone of voice, and then seemed to decide to go on. They passed in single file within three or four yards of me, and I counted thirteen of them. I immediately saw that I had the advantage of them. They evidently had not discovered me, never for a moment imagining that behind each rider there was a man on foot. I could see them, and if one of them discovered me, could have killed him and then run away through the thick underbrush.

After they had passed me and had gone so far that I could no longer hear them, I rose up from the ground and called for O'Neil. About ten yards behind me O'Neil rose and answered me. "By the gods, that was pretty close, Lieutenant," he said. I said to him, "O'Neil, this timber is full of Indians; let us proceed very cautiously to the ford" [ie. Ford A]. We did so, but when we reached that place we found an Indian picket there. We then determined to hide ourselves in the thickest part of the underbrush, but only a few yards from the river, and to wait there for daylight. It was now about one o'clock in the morning.

(to be continued)

[keogh]

De Rudio's account of the Little Big Horn battle (1897), with my annotations in brackets. PART IV

We found a good place and secreted ourselves. At about three o'clock A.M. we could hear a loud noise of women, children and dogs, and the grating of travois [poles being dragged]. The village was evidently moving up the river, and was passing only about a hundred yards from us. Very soon we could hear close to us some horses crossing the river. At this point the river ran at the foot of the hill, and we imagined that these horsemen were some of the party that were crossing to the west side of the stream, so we crawled to the bank of the river, and there on the other side, that is, on the east side, we could see some mounted men dressed in buckskin and blue blouse with white sombreros, mounted evidently on American horses, but we could not understand why they were crossing east. We stood there watching them. Some were going up the hill opposite to us, and some were following the east bank of the river.

From where we were, we could not see where they were crossing, as the river made a bend immediately below us. The hill interrupted the light, so that although we could see these people and recognize the horses and riders, and their dress, we could not distinguish their features. Pretty soon I noticed one rider dressed in buckskin and mounted on a sorrel horse with four white legs. I was sure the man was Capt. Custer, as he was dressed as the Captain had been, and mounted on his own horse. [Note: Here De Rudio gives us a good description of Tom Custer's horse, very similar to the General's own horse, Vic.] I got up from the ground and called the Captain. At the sound of my voice all of the party, those who were going up the hill, and those that were on the bank of the river, stopped. They looked, but could not see me, as I was surrounded by brush. I then raised my hat and waved it, when a yell and a volley [of fire] told me they were Indians.

We immediately rushed through the brush, and those that were on the hill fired whenever they saw the branches moving. A party of them rushed back across the river, and I saw that if we could not get across a little opening in the wood, we should be killed by those on top of the hill. When we reached the edge of the wood, before attempting to cross the clearing, I kneeled down alone behind two large cottonwood stumps and looked down the edge of the clearing. I then saw it was too late to attempt to cross, as a party of Indians were coming up near the edge of the brush, so I said to O'Neil, "Take your pistol and let us stand our ground here. Don't fire until they are close to us. Every shot must count." I raised my pistol on top of the stump and O'Neil did the same on top of his stump, about a yard from me, and above me, and we resolved to try our desperate chances.

Soon the foremost Indian had approached within five yards of me, evidently having no idea where we were. I fired and he turned, went about ten yards, and dropped dead. The others behind him turned immediately when O'Neil fired his carbine at the nearest one; he jumped out of his saddle, the long tail of his war bonnet was left hanging to the nearest branch, and another dead Indian lay on the ground. During this time the party on the hill continued to fire into the brush, but from where they were they could not see us. About four yards behind us there was an immense fallen cottonwood [tree] lying horizontally about three feet from the ground. We had passed under it to reach where we were. Indians on the hill had seen the two puffs of smoke from our two shots and they then fired in that direction. The retreating party [of Indians] went across the clearing opposite to us, and there began to fire at the two stumps, but we were fortunately covered from the fire from the hill by the big, dead tree.

Bullets struck the ground only a few inches from our feet. However at last the Indians set fire to the woods above us, and below us, and pretty soon we were obliged either to come out of our cover, or be burned. We decided to face the flames, took off our blouses and put them over our heads, jumped across the running flames, and without stopping ran through the dense smoke about five hundred yards. The smoke was our salvation. We reached a cluster of bullberry bushes about ten yards in diameter that the fire had passed without burning. We entered this and lay down in the tall grass and remained there all day. Here we were in a sort of oasis, for the burning wood was all around us. There, without speaking or moving, we remained until nine o'clock [A.M.] on the 26th of June.

(to be continued)

[keogh]

De Rudio's account of the Little Big Horn battle (1897), with my annotations in brackets. PART V

We could see, about 300 yards from us, on a small conical hill, an Indian vidette [ie. lookout]. About four o'clock P.M. this vidette fired his pistol three times in the air, which I interpreted as a signal. Soon after this, I heard a powerful voice calling out, and a party of three hundred or more warriors came from the hill about a mile down the river, where we could see them keeping up a skirmish fire and singing a peculiar chant. They passed within 200 yards of us and disappeared up the river. About an hour later the same vidette fired three more pistol shots and left his place. The same powerful voice [was heard] and as many more warriors came together and left like the first party. Still we could see a few Indians keeping up a firing, but every little while a few would leave and follow the two large parties.

We were now hopeful that they would retreat and abandon the ground. By 6:30 in the evening they had gone, as far as we could see from our position, but we prudently remained there until it was night, a clouded night, but no so dark as the previous one. The firing had ceased at about 6:50 [P.M.] The Indians were gone and there was perfect silence, no more firing. We concluded that the regiment must have left, and if they had done so, we were planning how we could join them, dismounted as we were, and they evidently having three or four hours the start of us. We had not tasted food nor drink for nearly forty hours; that night was our third without a wink of sleep; and our only chance to travel was at night, and we were at least 100 miles from the Yellowstone River. Our condition may be imagined. Hungry, exhausted from want of sleep, and a whole night's march before us, and no prospect of any food.

As I was thinking of this, I remembered that about twelve miles from us, the morning before the disaster, some of the officers went to look at a dead buffalo that lay a few yards from the column, to see how long the animal had been killed, and we saw that the brute had not been killed more than an hour before. It struck me that we could march to that dead buffalo and find some of the meat still good enough for us to make a meal of, and then go to a good hiding place and sleep all day, and on the following night take up our march to the Yellowstone River. After making this decision, we started for the place, and after marching five miles we came to the foot of a very high conical hill.

O'Neil was exhausted and wanted to take a rest, so I told him to do so while I would go up to the top of the hill and look around the country. The moon was out and I thought I might see some traces of the regiment. While I was looking at the horizon about me I spied a fire to the northward and in the direction of the Indian village and the hill where Reno was. I called O'Neil but he was sound asleep. I woke him up and together we went on top of the hill. I pointed out the fire that was sometimes to be seen plainly and sometimes would disappear, and I argued that this disappearance was probably caused by somebody moving around the fire, and that where the fire was, must be [people], so I decided that if was better to go cautiously toward that fire. If it was our regiment, we would be all right; if not, we would find there the traces of the regiment, some dead horses that we could make a meal of, and then follow the trail of the command. We cautiously directed our march toward the fire.

The country was very broken, up and down hill, and many ravines, and every time we came to an elevation we could see the fire more distinctly. Sometimes we would sit down to listen and watch the surroundings. I thought that if Reno's command was still there, perhaps it was still surrounded by the Indians, and if so, we must be very careful in approaching it, as to join them we would have to pass through the Indian line. At last, in one of our halts, we heard the braying of a mule, a very familiar noise, and a good sign that there were some beings in the neighborhood. We listened, and pretty soon we could hear that peculiar noise made by a cavalry troop, indescribable, and well understood by a practiced campaigner's ear. We approached still nearer until I heard distinctly the noise of a side line and the murmur of voices. Very cautiously we went on until we could see men standing before the fire and could recognize their Caucasian voices.

Advancing still more cautiously, I distinctly recognized the voice of Lieutenant Varnum, now Captain, a brave and most brilliant officer in the 7th Cavalry. He has received mention as such in the last Wounded Knee fight. We were then sure that Reno, and probably Custer, were there; but as I have already said, we thought they might still be surrounded by Indians, so we crawled cautiously, and when we got within 100 yards of the visible party, I thought that if there were any Indians around, and we could call out to the picket not to fire, and who we were, we would, at the same time, call the attention of the enemy; so we looked up toward the picket party to scan the ground and prepare for a run. Soon after, I called out to the picket who we were, "Oh, picket, don't fire. It is Lieutenant De Rudio and Private O'Neil," and we started to run up. No Indians were there. A cheer from the picket was answered all over the line. Tired and famished, we were furnished with crackers and coffee, and I related my adventures to Capt. Varnum. It was about 5 A.M. the 27th of June.

My name was down as one of the casualties, but fortunately the bearer of the dispatch could not go and returned about an hour after me. I was glad of this on account of my family. And about my feelings during this forty hours of hope and despair, only an affectionate father and loving husband could imagine. At times I could see my three little daughters on my knee, singing their innocent songs. I could hear their sweet angelic voices. The thought that I might see them again raised my spirits, and hope returned. Had I been a weak-minded man, I certainly would have become insane. I wish to state that I was the first man to ford the Little Big Horn going west [into the valley across Ford A] and the last to ford it going east.

FINI

[blaque]

The DeRudio narrative so kindly forwarded by J. Green and Col. Russell is undoubtly interesting, but I still consider as the most reliable version of DeRudio’s adventures the one he offered when interviewed at his California home on Christmas 1887. The story is comparatively unassuming. DeRudio very credibly admits that his attempt to retrieve the abandoned guidon (crawling up the creek bank) was frustrated from the very beginning:

“I started for the guidon. Just as my hand grasped it, my [horse’s] head appeared above the bank. I heard a yell, and there, not a stone’s throw away, was my old flanking party of Indians. Abandoning the idea of saving the guidon, I gave my horse a kick and sent him plunging through the underbrush in one direction, while I dived out of sight in another. As soon as the Indians reached the top of the bank, they blazed away at the point where my horse was creating so much commotion…"

So that goodbye to his ride through dense timber, the entangling of the guidon in some branches, the incredible halt in his rout to dismount and retrieve it, the point-blank volley which only hit his horse, etc, etc.

Nonetheless, in this narrative so helpfully posted by keogh there is a new tidbit of information which may lend credibility to another controversial story. I’ll post about this in the Ford D thread.

Jose

P.S.: I'm sure Gerry will be pleased with DeRudio's admission that he left a company guidon planted in the outskirts of the Hunkpapa village!