Saga of Chief Joseph

by Helen Addison Howard

  Handicapped by lack of water, and unable to light campfires lest the flames should draw the bullets of the sharpshooters, the troops suffered from the heavy dew and chill mountain air after sundown. Working in shifts, the men built additional rock barricades and dug more rifle pits.

  Captain Trimble sums up the situation at dark on July 11 at the end of the first day’s battle:

  The troops were in the circle on the defensive, the Indians in similar manner, though upon a line or nearly so at the edge of the bluff and in the timber. . . . I should think the area absolutely commanded by the hostiles was about twenty miles in every direction; that is, it would be unsafe for any one to venture out of our lines or immediate vicinity. When night fell there was almost complete cessation of shooting. . . .11

  The night being clear and still, the troops could discern smoke from the Indian village across the Clearwater River. From the blood-chilling yells that rent the air, the soldiers knew the braves were whirling madly in the war dance. Lieutenant Wood vividly describes the scene:

  All through the night, from the vast Indian camp in the river-bottom, rose the wail of the death-song and the dull drumming of the tooats [tewats]. The dirge of the widows drifted to us through the summer night—now plaintive and faint, now suddenly bursting into shrieks, as if their very heart-strings had snapped. But mingling with these unpleasant sounds came the rapid movement of the scalp chant, hum, hum, hum, hurrying to the climax of fierce war-whoops.12

  The troops heard, too, the thunderous voices, presumably, of Joseph, Alokut, and White Bird firing the hearts of the warriors with courage for the morrow, or reprimanding others. Dissension was splitting the Indian ranks. Some braves had quit the battle, arguing there was no use fighting when soldiers were not attacking their village.

  During the hours of darkness, soldiers and Indians alike heard the scraping sounds of rocks as both sides strengthened their defenses.

  As the gray light of dawn dissolved the black shadows of night, the troops under Miller and Perry charged the Indian barricades around the spring, the swiftness of their assault driving off the snipers. The precious water was then fortified by riflemen against counterattacks and flanking movements by the Nez Perces. After their successful charge the famished troops refilled their empty canteens and gulped down a scanty breakfast of hardtack, bacon, and hot coffee at headquarters camp in the center of their lines. Refreshed, the soldiers then renewed the attack. Captain Trimble writes:

  About sunrise several of the hostiles essayed to discover if any reenforcements were on the way for us. They would shoot out from the timber and at top speed gain the trail. This fact required exposure, as each attempt was made a target for the long range rifle of our infantry. I saw one horse shot, but it was astonishing to see the swiftness of their ponies and the savage maneuvers performed by those expert horsemen.13

  Acrid smoke from the guns, wild yells of Indians, fierce shouts of soldiers, dust from charging Indian cavalry, zinging of bullets, and burning rays of the sun all combined to make the battlefield an inferno on the second day, July 12.

  Howard, who had helped to plan the Union strategy at the battle of Gettysburg, now found that he had met worthy tacticians in the Nez Perces. He had to exercise, by his own admission, the most thorough generalship of his career to avert defeat. Although his lines were already thin, he left their defense to the infantry and cavalry, and withdrew the artillery battalion to act as a reserve force in case of an offensive movement by the Indians.

  Joseph, White Bird, Looking Glass, Alokut, Yellow Bull, and Tuhulhutsut, the military declared, were everywhere directing their forces. “Joseph,” writes Lieutenant Wood, “unlike his men, did not strip off his clothes for battle, as is the Indian custom, but wore his shirt, breechclout, and moccasins; and though (as I was told by one of his men) he was wholly reckless of himself in directing the various fights, he did not receive a wound.”14 Apparently Joseph was determined to live down before his tribesmen the accusation of cowardice hurled at him in the ten-day council in Rocky Canyon, when he had pleaded for peace just prior to the outbreak of hostilities.

  Time and again the soldiers supposedly aimed their fire at Joseph, but it was probably at his brother Alokut that they shot as he fearlessly led the charges of Indian cavalry against the troops. But historian Brady claims Joseph had several horses killed under him. Miraculously, not a bullet scratched him.15

  On the other hand, McWhorter’s Indian sources deny Joseph’s active role in the battle. He was undoubtedly an observer of the conflict, though, because McWhorter, in Hear Me, My Chiefs!, credits Joseph with warning the camp to be struck for hasty flight when he foresaw defeat for his tribesmen. The disagreement between Indian and white testimony about Joseph may be reconciled by the possibility that the soldiers mistook Alokut for his brother. All Indians consulted by McWhorter agreed Alokut (sometimes also called Young Joseph) was the chief fighting warrior in his brother’s band, and also “spoke highly of Ollokot’s [Alokut’s] bravery and warrior ability.”16 Indeed, mistaken identity may largely explain why the army men considered Joseph the war chief, whereas the military honors throughout the campaign really belonged to Alokut who, in Joseph’s own words, “led the young men.”

  Both sides gained temporary advantages during the morning hours by brief skirmishes. In the afternoon Howard decided to use a spearhead attack to break the stubborn line of the Nez Perces. He ordered Captain Miller to take a company of infantry through the troops’ left flank, strike the left center of the Indian line, cross the Nez Perces’ entrenched ravine, then suddenly face right and charge the enemy “so as to strike the Indian position in reverse.”

  Just as the captain prepared to execute the command, the supply train expected from Fort Lapwai appeared in the distance from the south enveloped in a dust cloud. It was escorted by Captain Jackson’s troop of cavalry. Seeing Indian skirmishers mounted on fleet ponies swooping down on the packtrain, Miller changed his plans and swerved to rescue it, thereby anticipating Howard’s revised order. He “marched his company between the coming train and the position occupied by the enemy, a very pretty movement as we watched it from our greater elevation,” relates Captain Trimble.17

  The attention of the embattled forces switched to the race for life between the train and the attackers. Through swirling clouds of dust the pack mules rushed across the plain. The Indian skirmishers retreated before Miller’s determined assault. His quick action saved the ammunition and supplies.

  An hour later the hoarse, exultant cries of the soldiers rent the air as Miller escorted the train almost to Howard’s position. Then, suddenly, before either the Indians or his comrades could guess his move, Miller, riding parallel to the line of battle, swung his column left and “moved quickly in line for nearly a mile across our front,” Howard writes, and repeatedly charged to the left of the Indians’ center. “This manner of striking at an angle,” Howard explains, “and following up the break, is called ‘rolling up the enemy’s line.’”18

  Immediately the Nez Perces attempted to turn Miller’s left flank. The captain’s onslaught stopped at the barricades, but Rodney’s company, acting as a reserve in his rear, deployed quickly and “flanked the flankers.” The soldiers’ line paused at the stubborn resistance of the Nez Perces, but charged forward again and broke through the ranks of the Indians. The artillerymen faced to the right then and effectively rolled up the line. That surprise movement, successfully executed, turned the tide of battle in favor of the army.

  Howard then ordered a full charge of all troops. Blue-clothed men rushed forward in skirmish order, firing by volley. Since the Nez Perces’ position had become untenable, they fled “through the ravines into the deep canyon, thence to the river, over rocks, down precipices, and along trails almost too steep and craggy to traverse,” the general reports. “The footmen pursued them to the river opposite the Indian camp. The river being too deep and rapid for the men to ford, they here waited for the cavalry under Captain Perry.�
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  The Nez Perces, their ranks broken and disorganized, fled up the heights to the left of Cottonwood Creek and beyond the Clearwater. The Indians left behind about eighty tepees with food cooking over the fires, supplies of flour and jerked beef, cooking utensils, buffalo robes, clothing, and blankets.

  Yellow Wolf recalled that Chief Joseph’s wife was left behind during the retreat. When Yellow Wolf reached the abandoned village, he found a woman with an infant in a cradleboard attempting to mount a frantic, plunging horse. He helped her to escape. “This woman,” he related, “with the little baby was Toma Alwawinmi [possibly meaning ‘Spring of Year’, or ‘Springtime’], wife of Chief Joseph. Her baby girl was born at Tepahlewam camp a few days before the White Bird Canyon battle, but it died in the hot country [Indian Territory] after the war.

  “I did not ask why she was as I found her. Chief Joseph left the battlefield ahead of the retreat. Seeing it coming, he hurried to warn the families. He could not leave his wife had he known. The women were all supposed to be ahead. A bad time—everybody busy getting away.”20

  Sustaining the attack, the cavalry worked its way rapidly on the left down the steep mountainsides to a deep ford, and slowly crossed over to the deserted village. Howard writes:

  At this time (about 5 P.M.), I was following up the movement, descending a steep trail, when about half way down the mountain side I discovered a number of the warriors apparently returning toward their camp from the Cottonwood ravine, at least three miles from us. I warned Captain Perry, and directed him to immediately carry over the foot-men with his horses.

  While doing this, time was consumed, and the Indians had turned eastward, crossed the Cottonwood Canon, and under cover of a transverse ravine got well in advance of us, so that I concluded to postpone further pursuit until the next morning.21

  Lieutenant Parnell reports that Perry’s movement “was so dilatory and irritating that General Howard became annoyed and countermanding the order directed the cavalry to aid the foot troops in crossing the river.”22 It is Parnell’s opinion that had Perry’s cavalry vigorously pushed the pursuit of the fleeing Nez Perces on this occasion, “the hostiles would never have crossed the Lolo trail.”23

  The chiefs reorganized their people and retreated slowly and in good order toward Kamiah. The warriors referred to by Howard, forty in number, had become separated from the main body in the retreat from the battlefield. As they were making their way back to their tribesmen, Howard sent McConville’s volunteers in pursuit, ordering the citizens to harass the Indians. But the volunteers had difficulty in following the trail and reached the Clearwater after the last of the warriors had crossed it.

  Burial parties next day interred thirteen soldiers and fifteen Indian bodies. Later eight more warriors were found on their trail. Two officers and twenty-two men were given first-aid treatment for their wounds and the following day sent to Fort Lapwai under escort. The number of wounded Nez Perces could not be determined as they successfully escaped with the hostiles.

  Yellow Wolf, however, denied that twenty-three warriors were killed, as reported by General Howard. He listed the names of four Nez Perces who were fatally wounded: Going Across, Grizzly Bear Blanket, Red Thunder, and Whittling, also six injured who recovered.24

  Regarding the outcome of this battle, Lieutenant William R. Parnell wrote:

  At the “Clearwater” the opposing forces were about equal. If anything the troops had the advantage in numbers as well as position. And yet, strictly speaking, the Indians were not defeated. Their loss must have been insignificant and their retreat to Kamai was masterly, deliberate and unmolested, leaving us with victory barren of results.25

  This Clearwater battle, however, had a distinct effect on the Nez Perces, in that it integrated their forces, and the Indians learned that they could effectively cope with the scientific methods of warfare employed by the military. And lastly, they had once more earned their freedom.

  Scouting parties of volunteers found food caches belonging to the Nez Perces, consisting mostly of flour, camas root, sugar, tea, axes, knives, cooking utensils, clothing, saddles, and buffalo robes. All was abandoned, probably, during the Indians’ flight from the vicinity of the Clearwater. This indicates that the hostiles were preparing for a long siege and had intended to fight on and to hold their own land.

  In capitulation Howard agreed that the Nez Perces “had been well led, and well fought,” since they had won the pitched battle at White Bird Canyon; had eluded capture; had crossed the army communications at Cottonwood; had kept the cavalry on the defensive there; and had been able to hold out for two days in the Clearwater battle against seasoned veterans, led by the sixth ranking general of the War of Secession. Then, the conflict tied, they had again eluded pursuit with all their women, children, the aged and the wounded, their herds, and most of their belongings. But, Howard consoles himself, the murders in Idaho had been stopped and the surrounding country “freed from their terrible presence.” After property damage in burned buildings and ruined crops in north Idaho estimated at $200,000, peace between Indian and white reigned once more in northeastern Oregon and Idaho. However, the long “trail of tears” had begun for Joseph and his tribespeople.

  15

  The March Over the Lolo Trail

  On July 13, the day after the battle, the hostile forces crossed about a mile above the Kamiah ferry to the east bank of the Clearwater. Some of the supplies which the women had saved from the deserted village were swept off the overloaded rafts into the swirling eddies of the river. At this spot the chiefs decided to give battle again, but before barricades could be erected or rifle pits dug, Howard’s cavalry loomed on the bluffs above Kamiah and trotted rapidly down the trail toward the Indians. Captain Trimble reports:

  It was a lovely sight we beheld on arriving at the heights overlooking the Kamai Valley. The fields belonging to the still loyal bands of Nez Perces were green with grain not yet ripe, the hills beyond clad in spring attire, the beautiful river flowing between, and the Agency buildings shining white in the background.1

  Menaced by the approaching soldiers, the Indians rushed the work of crossing the people and stock. As the last Nez Perce gained the safety of the eastern bank, Captain Jackson’s troop of cavalry charged down to the water’s edge. Indian marksmen, deployed on the opposite shore, opened fire.

  After the artillerymen had discharged several volleys from the Gatling guns, the cavalry “retired in some haste, if not confusion”2 from their advance position.

  Regarding the sudden panic of the mounted troops, General Howard relates:

  As Perry’s and Whipple’s cavalry were passing a high bluff which was beyond the river, a brisk fire was opened by the enemy for a few minutes, throwing this cavalry into considerable confusion for a time, but without loss.3

  One enlisted man was slightly wounded in this skirmish at the river. In his book, Howard expands his official report and adds a subtle touch of humor: “. . . our men jumped from their horses, and ran to the cover of the fences. Little damage resulted, except the shame to us, and a fierce delight to the foe.”4

  The general’s prompt pursuit evidently surprised the Nez Perces; and as a result they continued their retreat toward the east, and thus gave up their favorable position at the river.

  The chiefs realized that their safety depended on reaching the Lolo Trail in the Bitterroot Mountains. Lest Howard block their escape, they posted scouts to keep them informed of the one-armed general’s movements. These sentinels reported on the fifteenth that Howard’s battalion of cavalry had left Kamiah and was on the heights to the Indians’ rear, presumably going back to Fort Lapwai. However, this ruse did not deceive the chiefs. They grasped the situation at once, divining that Howard intended to feint retreat toward the north, then suddenly to change his direction and cross to the east side of the Clearwater at a point farther downstream, probably at Dunwell’s Ferry. From there his cavalry could reach the north fork of the Lolo Trail at the junction f
ifteen miles beyond the Nez Perce camp, and thus cut off the Indians’ escape. At the same time Howard could attack the hostiles’ rear by engaging the chiefs from the west with the infantry and artillery battalions.

  The Nez Perce camp was then four miles from Kamiah. Promptly packing up, the Indians hastened toward the Lolo Trail. Joseph sent a messenger to Howard under a flag of truce to ask upon what terms he could surrender.

  Lieutenant C. E. S. Wood says that he was “told long afterward, by an Indian of that region, that Joseph wished to surrender rather than leave the country or bring further misery on his people, but that, in council, he was overruled by the older chiefs, Ap-push-wa-hite (Looking Glass), White Bird, and Too-hul-hul-suit; and Joseph would not desert the common cause.”5

  In the Lewiston Teller extra for July 16, 1877, Joseph is reported to have said that he was “not to blame in this war, that he was forced into it. He did not speak for the rest of the hostiles.” A later issue of the Teller (August 2) states: “Jim Lawyer says that . . . White Bird and Lookingglass . . . actually prevented Joseph and his men from surrender by an armed force of 40 warriors who threatened to kill them if they attempted to escape and surrender.” Josiah Red Wolf confirms Joseph’s surrender attempt. He states in the Inland Empire Magazine (Spokesman-Review, November 17, 1963): “Not only was Joseph hard to persuade to stay in the fight but he tried to drop out after the end of the Stites (Clearwater) fight.”

  Howard had already proceeded six miles toward Fort Lapwai when he received word of Joseph’s intention to surrender. He hurried back to Kamiah to negotiate, and ordered the cavalry and volunteers to continue twenty miles in a northwesterly direction.

  In his report to the Secretary of War the general explains:

  The fifteenth I started a column of cavalry with intention of ascending the heights to the rear, as if en route to Lapwai, to move 20 miles down the Clearwater to Dunnwell’s Ferry, and crossing there, to attempt to gain the trail to the rear of the Indians, as they were encamping in plain sight, not more than 4 miles from Kamiah. I had not proceeded more than 6 miles before the Indians began their retreat in good earnest along the Lolo trail. Therefore, leaving Captain Jackson with his company and a few volunteers who had just returned to me to watch Dunnwell’s Ferry, I returned to Kamiah and prepared at once to move my entire command over the river.