Alpheus Stuart, KIA at the Little Bighorn, Reports "Some Have Left Already," But He Will Stick It Out “If Things Do Not Get Exciting”

Background

There is not much symmetry to the unhappy history of the U.S. 7th Cavalry and the Plains Indians. Of course, on the hot afternoon of June 25, 1876, along the Little Bighorn River in the Montana Territory, the tables famously turned – the only parity either side, really, has seen fit to observe. But even as the pursued devastated the pursuer, and so created the national commotion called Custer’s Last Stand, something other than the decimation of the Cavalry’s most celebrated commander was at hand. Overlooked in the Battle of the Little Bighorn is this startling equivalence: there, the dispossessed fought the dispossessed. The 7th Cavalry was a poor, miserably maintained immigrant army. 

Almost 60% of the 7th’s rank-and-file were foreign-born: many barely spoke English. Theirs was a brutish existence, relieved by alcoholism, debauchery and when lucky, desertion. Among the soldiers were criminals fleeing the law, unemployed men seeking a paycheck, even occasionally, an adventurer. Soldiering, for them, was comprised of tedium and isolation, only relieved, perhaps, in the field, by hardship and terror. One such enlisted man was Private Alpheus Stuart.

Perhaps the only thing about Stuart that made him stand out from his comrades was his height: at 5’10 ½ he was some 5 inches taller than the regimental average. Everything else is a cipher: facts are scant. He was born in New York City, worked as a laborer and, at the age of 28, joined the 8th Cavalry. During his five years in that regiment, he was a teamster, telegraph line repairman, telegraph operator, and office orderly. He rose to the rank of sergeant. When his enlistment was over, he chose to re-up with Custer’s 7th Cavalry in September 1875 - as a private. Whether he joined the 7th just to keep picking up a paycheck; to be with his comrades; to explore, even, post-military prospects – is unknown. But about one thing he was sure: he was not looking for excitement. And that, as it would turn out, is the one thing he found for dead certain.

He wrote to his friend in the 8th Regiment this congenial letter at the beginning of 1876, relaying professional and personal news – and so reported on a just completed Black Hills expedition promising untold riches; an upcoming winter campaign in 30° below weather to “thrash” “Old Sitting Bull” back to the reservation; his assignment to Tom Custer’s [brother of the 7th’s Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer) company; and how he thinks few of the troopers with whom he signed up are likely to stay. On a personal note, he recalls and laments the want of a drinking game played with brandied raisins and, moving right along, his fond memories of, and desire for, female intimacy. Most telling, however, was his stated intention to stay in the 7th - but only if it did not “get exciting."

I received your welcome letter yesterday and was glad to hear from you. also to heard that none of the Boys lost the member of their mess in the engagement you had. Well Pady there is great excitement here about the Black Hills their was a party left here about a month ago and got back last night. They speak of the hills in the most glowing terms They say that gold is plenty and that a man can get one dollar an hour for working I expect they are stretching it some. We are getting ready for a winters Campaign… just think of a Campaign in this country and it thirty degrees below zero the finest days but I am affraid we will have to make a move. Old Sitting Bull is out and wont come in untill he gets a good thrashing. I drew a Scout with this outfit they pack evry thing on their horses evry man carries a Shelter Tent Blanket rations and evry thing ellse that belongs to a Soldier and we have to keep our Carabines slung… Custers Brother [Tom] is Captain of our Company and we live first rate…Ttell you Old Boy a little of Old Sheep Skins Tribe [perhaps a reference to the Plains Native American women who wore leggings of deer or mountain sheep skins] would come in very handy here. That artical is Scarcer here than any place I ever was at. I know their is plenty of it in Rio Grande City for their was my first experience in indulging in the favors of a Mexican Senoritta does Nockum still want to get married to the Squaw I would take her myself if she was out here. I am sorry for Lyon it is a sad loss for a man to loos his wife ispecialy such as interesting one as Mule Head. tell Stratton that I have got a set of teath that I would like to sell him I got them made and cannot use them tell him also that I would like to see him here for we have got one of them Hogidelley Dutchmen in our outfit and if he could understand him it is more than any one here can do. tell Dillon that if he wants to make a fortune to think for the Black hills their is about three hundred rivers in the Hills now it is 175 miles from here to the Hills and the way the Boys will skin for their in the Spring will be a caution to Snakes I think the galloping 7th will want another batch of Recruits very soon out of 156 that came with me I dont think 25 will stay Some have left already I think I will stick it out if it does not get exciting.

“I think I will stick it out if it does not get exciting” would prove, of course, ironic unto death. But on May 17th 1876, the 7th Cavalry, under the command of Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer, left Fort Abraham Lincoln on a mission to corral hostile Native American inhabitants of the Black Hills back on to the reservation – and this would prove not just to be exciting, but the greatest American military disaster of its day. Custer’s command - of, at last count, 268 troops - was obliterated at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Dying with him, on Last Stand Hill, was Private Alpheus Stuart. He was 32 years old, and what little future he seemed to have, was over. 

Physical Description

[Battle of the Little Bighorn – Private Alpheus Stuart, KIA] Autograph Letter Signed, 4 pages, recto and verso, folio, Fort Abraham Lincoln, Dakota Territory, January 24, 1876; to Charles "Paddy" Gill of the 8th Cavalry, stationed in Texas.