The Last Campfire of "Lonesome" Charley Reynolds

"Lonesome" Charley Reynolds

By - Harry Bulkeley

Lonesome Charley Reynolds stirred the dying embers of the campfire and dreamed of Forgottonia- Abingdon to be exact. He had grown up there and even attended Abingdon College for three years before moving west. As the midsummer sun was setting over the Montana plains, Abingdon seemed very far away.  Something was wrong even if he couldn't name it. 

It wasn't the loneliness of the frontier. He was used to that. Few men had experienced as much of the real old west as Lonesome Charley had.

He had been a rider for the Pony Express. Soon after that, he fought with the 10th Kansas cavalry in the Civil War and patrolled the Santa Fe Trail. After the war, he hunted with Buffalo Bill Cody on the Republican River before going farther west to trap and hunt and get away from people. That was when he earned the name "Lonesome Charley". The natives gave him a different name- "White-hunter-that never-goes-out-for-nothing".  It wasn't that he was a hermit. He'd be glad to talk to you about things he was interested in- like geology or Indian culture. 

But Charley didn't suffer fools gladly. There was that time when he got into an argument with an officer at Fort McPherson. Details are sketchy, but when it was over, the Army man only had one arm.

Charley was tough and smart and experienced, and that was how he first came to the attention of George Armstrong Custer in 1869. "The Boy General" figured out early on that Charley was one of the best guides around. Custer hired him to escort the surveyors for the Northern Pacific Railroad as they explored Yellowstone. In 1874, gold was discovered in the Black Hills, and Custer sent Charley back to Laramie to announce the strike. 

That discovery of gold produced big trouble in Dakota and over the border in Montana. Where there is gold, there is a gold rush, and prospectors started flooding into the area. That land had been promised by treaty to the Indians, who considered it sacred.  When they moved out of their reservations to resist the newcomers, the Army moved in to protect the prospectors.

In June of 1876, as the chief scout for the Seventh Cavalry, Charley's assignment was to find the warriors that were in the area. By that night at the campfire, he had found them- a lot of them. It was apparent there was going to be a fight the next day, and Charley had a premonition. He asked Colonel Terry if he might be excused from the patrol, which he knew was out of the question. He then started giving away his personal property, telling soldiers he wouldn't have any further use for them.

The next morning, the Seventh Cavalry set off to find the Indian villages Charley had told Custer about. Originally riding with Major Marcus Reno's command, Charley found himself in a relatively safe position in the woods with his friend and fellow scout Fred Girard. Girard later said Charley asked him for a drink of whiskey despite the fact that Reynolds never drank.

When the troops pulled out, Charley left his place of relative safety and went after them, only to have his horse shot out from under him. Moving ahead on foot, he stopped to protect Dr. Henry Porter, who was tending to a wounded soldier. Charley yelled, "Look out doctor, they're shooting at you!" just before he was shot dead.

Overlook at the Little Bighorn cemetery

Charley threw one last log on the fire and watched a shower of sparks soar skyward. Knowing he couldn't sleep, he laid his head on his saddle and stared up at the canopy of stars. He was sure it would be his last night of watching the dark Montana sky. 

Lonesome Charley was only 34 when he died at the Little Bighorn. His body was buried in a mass grave with his comrades. He may have lived in the mountains and High Planes, but his home and his heart were always in Forgottonia.