by 1864-1898 Indian War Veterans: Memories of Army Life;Campaigns in the West
Early in August, 1877, Joseph encountered a small command of regular infantry and a few volunteer citizens under command of Colonel John Gibbon, where the Battle of the Big Hole was fought. The courier that brought the news of this battle down to Fort Keogh claimed that Colonel Gibbon had been worsted in the engagement with the Indians. The dispatch stated that there had been seventeen men killed and thirty-five wounded. It further stated that Joseph had captured some supplies and a cannon. Of course, they had no use for this piece of ordnance, so they upset it over a bank down in a deep ravine. Joseph was now in eastern Montana. He skirted the settlements along the Gallatin Valley, killing some citizens and capturing others…. As Colonel Miles commanded the District of the Yellowstone, and Joseph was in the Yellowstone country, the colonel took steps to capture the band. He at once dispatched Colonel Samuel D. Sturgis with eight troops of his regiment, the famous Seventh U. S. Cavalry, and 300 Crow Indians, in pursuit of Joseph…. Sturgis came up with Joseph and forced him to battle. The Crow allies proved to be rather a weak support to the troops, and once more Joseph stood his enemies off while his women and children, with their supplies, made a successful escape.
After waiting a considerable time…Colonel Miles decided that he would have to go after Joseph himself. On September 17, just after midnight, about the time the colonel usually started on a hunt for Indians, there was a tremendous rapping at the orderly room of Company D, Fifth Infantry. We heard the headquarters orderly tell the first sergeant to turn out the company for a thirty-day scout in light marching order. Fort Keogh was soon in a buzz with preparation for an Indian campaign. By daylight the next morning the command, consisting of six troops of cavalry, two of the Second and four of the Seventh, and five companies of the Fifth Infantry mounted, two companies, D and K, Fifth Infantry, under Captain David H. Brotherton of K Company, as train guard, had crossed to the north bank of the Yellowstone River. Considering that there were thirty wagons drawn by six mules, two ambulances, and two pieces of artillery drawn by four horses each, all the cavalry horses and 150 pack mules, it was no small task to cross all this stuff from 1:00 a.m. till daylight on a small and rickety ferryboat. The entire command consisted of about 400 men with the usual complement of scouts, teamsters, and packers.
While eating breakfast, there were many conjectures as to our destination. Not a word had been dropped by the officers for our enlightenment. We had heard nothing from Colonel Sturgis’s command, but hoped they had captured Joseph’s band. The wagon train was the first made ready to start, led by the infantry company of seventy men. After passing through the canyon to the high land, we headed for the northwest in the direction of Fort Peck. We had been over that trail before when after Sitting Bull during the winter of 1876. The mounted troops passed us two hours later with jokes, saying that they were sorry for the doughboys. Let me say that before this campaign ended I saw some of these cavalrymen carrying their saddles to the first wagon after dispatching their mount when he could no longer go. The weather was ideal, and the twenty-five-mile march this first day was only exercise for the train guard. The next day we marched thirty miles. No one seemed to notice the extra five miles except a few recruits that had never been on a real campaign. We were camping each night with the mounted men, and when on the third day we made thirty-five miles, the recruits and some of the heavyweights were beating Uncle Sam by riding on the hind feed box.
We were adding a few miles each day to the march. Sometimes we would make the cavalry camp as late as 9, 10, and 11 o’clock at night. We thought that this was pretty strenuous campaigning. The colonel was breaking us in by degrees. The day before we made the Missouri River, we broke camp before daylight. Captain Brotherton, being mounted, increased the pace to a higher rate than we had ever experienced. By three in the afternoon the train guard company was getting somewhat jaded. By nine that evening our ranks were thinning, and when we finally made the cavalry camp at 12 o’clock, there was just six of us stacked arms out of the seventy-five men that composed the train guard. When the ambulance carrying the odometer pulled in and the instrument examined, it read forty-five miles…. My bunky and I never knew when the wagon train all finally pulled in that night, for as soon as we found our blankets, we arranged our bed under a tree and were soon dreaming of better days gone by. Colonel Miles instructed Captain Brotherton that he should let his men sleep until sunrise the next morning. There were many expressions of gratitude for this, and some hoped the colonel would soon be wearing a star.
A short march the next morning brought us to the Big Muddy. Soon after arriving at the Missouri River, there could be heard a steamer whistle down the river. It was decided that the steamer was moving downstream, and Colonel Miles knew that it would be his one chance to cross the river without much delay. There was a good trail and a level country on the north side of the river, while the south side was very rough. A scout by the name of [George] Sandy Johnson, a brother of the famous scout Liver-Eating Johnson [sic], volunteered to swim his horse across the river and catch the steamer. His noble horse carried him across the river all right, but the bank was too steep, and after many efforts, the man and horse were drowned. His brother, being present, saw Sandy drown, but could not help him. A raft was soon constructed and two men rowed the raft with saddle and equipment [piled on?], swimming the horse. After making the opposite shore with the aid of the two soldiers, the horse made the bank in good shape. After resting his mount for a brief time, the trooper chased down the steamer and turned it back to cross the command to the north side of the river. The battle was not always the test of man or beast in winning the great west. After the ice broke up the next spring, Sandy Johnson’s body was found seventy-five miles below, near Fort Peck.
While waiting for the steamer to return, a negro in a skiff suddenly hove in sight. He seemed greatly excited. The fact was, he was scared within an inch of his life. His story was that he was watching some stores on Cow Island, fifty miles up the river, that belonged to the post trader. There was also a sergeant and six men guarding the government supplies on the island, and that Joseph’s band had captured the island…but he had made his escape in the only boat…. The detachment of soldiers on the island had built a strong dugout for winter quarters as well as for defense. When they saw several hundred Indians crossing onto the island they decided that discretion would be the better part of valor, so they barricaded their dugout and let the Indians help themselves. After Joseph had taken what he wanted from the island, he crossed to the north bank of the river and captured a wagon train of supplies on the way to Fort Benton. He gave the teamsters each a mule to ride to Fort Benton, helped himself to the supplies, and burned the wagons. By the time the steamer had returned to cross the command, Colonel Miles had decided to take the mounted troops and the pack train and go after Joseph in light marching order. Captain Brotherton, with train guard, would remain on the south side of the river and have a good time fishing and hunting, while the mounted fellows captured Joseph’s band.
When Colonel Miles with the mounted troops and pack train had crossed the Missouri River, the steamer once more headed downstream, and as the cavalry with their belongings moved out of view to the north, the train guard congratulated themselves on being rid of a troublesome crowd. In less than an hour after their departure, we heard the little breech-loading cannon boom, then again and again. Finally, the steamer answered by several long blasts. This made the train guard wonder what was coming. We didn’t have to wait long to learn our fate, as a cavalryman soon hailed Captain Brotherton from the north bank of the river to make ready to cross the river at once. A soldier in active service never knows what is before him until it happens. The writer and his Irish bunky with others had just been posted on a high mound as picket guards for the night when we learned that the wagons must be unloaded and the supplies all carried onto the steamer and the wagons had to be taken apart and carried a piece at a time on board the steamer. The men on guard felt that they were in luck for once. It was ten o�
��clock that night when the last of the wagon train was crossed to the north side of the river. After moving out a mile before a suitable camping place could be found, the train guard rolled in their blankets about the usual hour, eleven o’clock at night.
For the next three days we made long weary marches over a barren country, with scarcely no timber and little water to be found, and that was bitter with alkali. The course of march led to the northwest, toward the Little Rocky and the Bear Paw mountains. Colonel Miles had pushed on with the mounted troops and we were following their trail at a full forced march. We entered a narrow valley that divided the Little Rockies, through which flowed a small stream called Beaver Creek. The Little Rockies presented some very beautiful scenery, and the sparkling waters of Beaver Creek abounded in mountain trout, of which we managed to catch a number whenever there would be a brief halt of the wagon train. We encountered a snowstorm the afternoon of the day we passed through this mountain range which spoiled our fishing and sight-seeing. The next morning, the 30th day of September, when we had passed the Little Rockies we could see the tops of the Bear Paw Mountains glittering in the sunshine twenty-five miles to the north. We crossed a valley of some twenty miles in width that separated the two ranges of mountains and we camped that night at the base of the Bear Paws. For the first time we here could plainly see the trail made by Chief Joseph’s band of Indians. Colonel Miles had struck their trail at this point the day before, as we were about twenty-four hours behind the mounted command.
The next morning, October 1st, there was a heavy fog, and Captain Brotherton feared to move the train under such conditions. Although everything was packed and teams hitched, we still waited for the fog to raise. While roasting buffalo veal on our steel ramrods and tucking away a supply in our haversacks for future emergencies, a scout rode in among us unobserved. We had been discussing the probable fate of the mounted command, and wondering how much farther we would have to go when the man in buckskin handed a message to Captain Brotherton. Our loitering abruptly came to an end. At the command, “Fall in!” every man was eager to hit the trail. The fog was so dense we could not see fifty yards in advance. But we soon learned from the scout that Colonel Miles had Joseph surrounded about eighteen or twenty miles away at the east base of the Bear Paws, on Eagle Creek. As we were moving on quick time, the scout rode by the side of the column and gave us many details of the attack, [and told us] that quite a number of our boys had been killed and many more wounded. [He said] that the fog made it difficult to see and hold the Indians, and we were needed very bad. Although we had marched 300 miles and brought the wagon train over some very rough country, when we learned that the object of our search was so near we felt like new and were anxious for the fight.
When the fog finally lifted there was a most wonderful landscape revealed. The Bear Paws loomed up on our left with piles of snow, while the country to our right was brown and free from snow, with hundreds of buffalo roaming everywhere. But we were after other game now and cared but little for the surrounding country or the herds of buffalo. When we finally arrived at the base of a ridge extending from the mountains across the trail, the scout told us that the mounted command was deployed in line of battle just west of the ridge while Colonel Miles with his aides crawled to the top of this eminence and planned the attack. A scout well in advance of the cavalry had spied out the Indian camp from this point and Colonel Miles was taking advantage of the situation. The plan of attack was the four troops of the Seventh Cavalry would oblique to the right and attack the camp from the south, while the five companies of mounted Fifth Infantry would charge direct to the front and attack in the center, while the two troops of the Second Cavalry would oblique to the left and cut off the Indian herd that was grazing well to the north of the Indian camp. The Second Cavalry troops succeeded fine in capturing nearly all their ponies, about 1100 head.
Company K, Seventh Cavalry, in dress uniforms, ca. 1877-78. Editor’s collection
But not so with the Seventh Cavalry battalion. They executed the movement as directed in fine shape and dashed in on the south side of the Indian stronghold. But not until they were within close range of the Indian rifles did they discover a steep bank some twenty-five feet high that they could not force their horses down. At this critical moment, the Indians opened fire on their unprotected line. Men and horses went down pretty fast before the battalion could fall back over the ridge out of sight. The Fifth mounted infantry found a high bank in their front, and only one company, I, of the Fifth, found a passage through a ravine down into the Indian camp. They lost a number of men before they could find a way to get out and take position behind a friendly ridge nearby. By the trumpet call to halt and deploy skirmishers, [the troops] encircled their camp and the boys began to dig in and so were able to hold their ground.
And when the train guard marched over the divide we were cheered by the men who were watching for us to aid them. The wagon train carried picks and shovels for road repairing, and these were distributed around the skirmish line that night, which was an improvement over their entrenching tools. Toward evening, the white flag was raised over in the Indian camp, and acknowledged by one being displayed from headquarters. Chief Joseph accompanied by a few braves met Colonel Miles for a parley. While this conference was going on, Second Lieutenant Lovell H. Jerome of the Second Cavalry bolted the skirmish line and went down into the Indian stronghold. He was made a prisoner and securely bound. So Chief Joseph was held as hostage until the lieutenant was released. Joseph was brought over to the train guard for safe keeping. A tent was pitched for him and a comfortable bed arranged. The colonel ordered an extra strong guard should be placed over him. A darkened lantern was placed in the tent and an infantryman sat on a camp stool with fixed bayonet with orders to use it if he made an effort to escape. On the outside of the tent there were two cavalrymen walking post. The writer had the honor of the first and last relief on guard over Chief Joseph inside the tent. When he awoke in the morning he greeted the writer with, “How John.” I returned his greetings by saying, “How Chief.” He kicked his foot from under the blankets and showed the writer that his moccasins were wore out. He said that he was heap tired of war, so we had a pleasant little visit. Joseph was a fine looking Indian and could speak the English language quite well. About sunrise, Lieutenant Jerome was turned loose, and when he was safe the chief was escorted beyond the line and given his liberty. So the siege went on for five [three] days longer.
The following day a detail of the train guard was sent with wagons up in the mountains to get wood, as sagebrush and wet buffalo chips made poor fuel. The afternoon was spent in a fruitless search for wood. Timber was always in sight, but always out of reach. We returned that night at about ten o’clock wet and bedraggled, as the snow was knee deep up in the mountains. On coming to camp, a part of that detail was ordered out to occupy a high hill to the north of our lines to keep a sharp lookout for Sitting Bull, who was just over in Canada. The nights would not have seemed so long or the duty so strenuous could we have had hot coffee or warm food, but dry hardtack and salt pork constituted our daily menu. After dark the evening of the 3rd of October the train guard company relieved the two troops of the Second Cavalry and occupied the line of rifle pits to the north of the Indian camp. As we passed the first rifle pit on the bank of Eagle Creek, just opposite headquarters, three men on the left of the company were given this pit, the writer being among them. From this rifle pit, we had a good view of the Indian stronghold, only 200 yards to their first dugouts. Just under the bank from our rifle pit some of the I Company, Fifth Infantry boys were shot from their mounts. Instead of being tomahawked and scalped, the Indians helped them to a safe place where they would not be run over by charging horses or ponies. They filled their canteens with water, then rushed into the fight to shoot other soldiers out of their saddles. This was the equal of any civilized warfare on record, and all who pursued and fought Chief Joseph have nothing but praise for him and his gallant band. In the best r
egulated armies there are always radicals and outlaws, so Chief Joseph’s band was not an exception to this rule. There were some bad Indians in Joseph’s band, and it was reported that there were twenty-five renegade white men with Joseph [sic]. But they made their escape during the dark, stormy nights as it either rained or snowed most every night. The Indians claimed that these white men were responsible for most of the outrages committed on the trail while near the settlements. There was always in-fighting of this kind, some strange and even pathetic experiences.
Yellowstone Kelly [Luther S. Kelly], chief of scouts for Colonel Miles, accompanied by Corporal John Haddo, Company B, Fifth Infantry, who scouted with Kelly a great deal, came to the battlefield one night with important information for Colonel Miles and was to leave in the morning with dispatches for some other command. While their horses were eating, Corporal Haddo says to Kelly, “I am going out on the firing line and take a few shots at the Indians.” He selected a good position and in raising his shoulder a little higher to get a better view of the Indian stronghold, he received a rifle ball through the center of his chest and sank down dead, without getting a single shot at the Indians. The Indians had fortified a deep ravine that extended back to the south from Eagle Creek. This ravine was in the form of an L with high rugged banks interspersed with smaller ravines and breaks that made it a natural stronghold. It was on the south side of this ravine where two troops of the Seventh Cavalry were so badly shot up in the charge. The Indians had plenty of picks and shovels, and no doubt the white renegades helped and showed the Indians how to strengthen the position by making indentations in these high banks that gave them a good view of our rifle pits while they were perfectly sheltered. A bullet from one of these notches got Haddo and a lot more of our boys. We had one advantage over Joseph; he was cut off from the creek and could get no water in daylight, only during darkness.