Chapter 2: Eruption and White Bird Canyon (continued)
Despite General Howard and Agent Monteith's outwardly
projected confidence that the Nez Perces were about to yield to agency
life, there is evidence that the settlers observing the gathering at
Tolo Lake thought otherwise. Normally the assembly would have been
viewed as a routine affair, for the tribesmen camped there annually.
Several accounts suggest that, because of the recent debate at the Fort
Lapwai council, the settlers expected a major outbreak, rumored to be
scheduled to occur on July 4 at Mount Idaho as they celebrated
Independence Day (despite it being more than two weeks beyond the date
imposed for the Nez Perces going onto the reservation). Others indicate
that a well-to-do Nez Perce cattleman named Black Tail Eagle warned the
whites of imminent trouble as he passed through the settlements. On June
13, a Mount Idaho town father named John M. Crooks ventured out to the
Nez Perce camp to find out what was happening. By now clearly
anticipating trouble from the army, the tribesmen told Crooks that they
did not intend to harm the settlers if they did not assist the soldiers.
Ultimately, the attacks came, but possibly in a more
incidental manner than the settlers expected. The three warriors who
initiated it on June 13, having failed to find Lawrence Ott, traveled to
the ranch of Richard Devine, nine miles above Slate Creek, where they
shot him to death and took his rifle. Reversing direction and heading
north to John Day Creek, the three next day encountered Jurden Henry
Elfers, Henry Burn Beckrodge, and Robert Bland, killing them and riding
off on their horses. Continuing down the Salmon, they happened on
storekeeper Samuel Benedict, out checking his cattle near the mouth of
White Bird Creek, and wounded him. Benedict escaped. It was then that
the warrior, Swan Necklace, returned to the gathering on Camas Prairie
to boast of their exploits and recruit the other young men. Thus
reinforced, the warriors attacked John J. Manuel's ranch, two miles
above the mouth of White Bird Creek, wounding Manuel and setting his
buildings ablaze. Encountering Samuel Benedict again, they shot him as
he attempted to flee across White Bird Creek, killing him along with
settlers August Bacon and James Baker. On June 15, the warriors
continued their raiding, killing or capturing Mrs. Jennet Manuel and her
eleven-month-old baby, and killing William Osborne and Harry Mason. Mrs.
Manuel's seven-year-old daughter escaped with wounds. They raped two
women, Helen Walsh and Elizabeth Osborn. [9]
On the next day, a miner on the Salmon named Frank Chodoze was killed
and his cabin burned. The crisis escalated with the killing by
volunteers from Mount Idaho of a Nez Perce warrior named Jyeloo
southwest of that community, and the Indians' retaliatory slaying later
that day of settler Charles Horton. As the reality of the outbreak
spread, fear mounted among the residents of Mount Idaho and Grangeville.
[10]
In one of the most startling incidents of the
outbreak, Benjamin B. Norton, proprietor of Norton's Ranch or the
Cottonwood House, twenty miles northwest of Mount Idaho, sought to
remove his family and guests to safety late in the evening of June 14.
As the settlers' wagons proceeded toward Grangeville, warriors struck in
the darkness, killing the horses, then shooting Norton, who died before
morning, and wounding F. Joseph Moore, Lew Day, and Norton's wife,
Jennie. Moore was an employee of Norton's, while Day had been en route
from Mount Idaho to Fort Lapwai with news of the Salmon River killings.
Both Moore and Day died later from their injuries. A nine-year-old son,
Hill B. Norton, and eighteen-year-old Lynn Bowers, sister of Jennie
Norton, fled into the night. In the suddenness of the assault, John
Chamberlin and his infant daughter were killed and his other daughter
wounded, while Chamberlin's wife was shot with an arrow and raped. Next
morning, patrolling citizens found the survivors and ushered them into
Mount Idaho before proceeding to the scene of the attack, about five
miles west of Grangeville, and rescuing the wounded. The relief party
narrowly escaped being attacked by Nez Perces advancing from Tolo Lake.
[11]
Beyond the killings, the Nez Perces' raiding left
widespread destruction, with many homes, barns, and outbuildings burned
and plundered and horses, cattle, and hogs driven off or killed. There
were frequent incidents of crops being destroyed. After their rampage
along the Salmon, the warriors focused on farms and ranches on Camas
Prairie, some near the lake where the bands had assembled. By then, most
of the Salmon River settlers had found refuge at Slate Creek, where a
stockade was raised, while others sought relief in Mount Idaho and
Grangeville. At Mount Idaho, the small hotel was pressed into service as
a hospital, and on a hill north of town, residents hurriedly threw up a
circular barricade of logs, rocks, and sacks of flour. At Grangeville,
an upright stockade was raised around the grange hall. Almost all the
people who experienced losses filed claims within months, and most
received smaller than requested awards over the next few years. [12]
There is no accounting for what happened in these
attacks. Perhaps the events of June 1877 represented the culmination of
a cultural crisis that had long simmered among the Nee-Me-Poo. The
causes were many: Decades of cultural identity gone awry through
repeated land swindlesby both the United States government and
individual settlers. Missionary-inspired confusion over what the people
should believe of the supernatural and the natural worlds, and over who
the people were versus who they should be. The usual litany of broken
promises. The repeated cases of physical abuse including the rape of Nez
Perce women. The introduction of alcohol. The cupidity of crooked
whites. The multitude of other Indian-white contact experiences that
promoted grievances without redress. And all these issues led to the
intratribal factionalism that had affected so many other tribes in
similar ways.
The striking out by Shore Crossing and his followers
against individual white men who had at various times wronged the Nez
Perces only symbolized the deeper frustration wrought by the myriad
issues and the outrage felt by all as they prepared to surrender the
vestiges of their homeland. But what followed the first day's killings
was a general outburst of the cultural angst that had fomented for years
in the nontreaties' psychology, producing a displaced anger and
aggression that could not be stemmed. It erupted after the initial
Salmon River attacks, helped push the interband leadership away from the
conciliation of the past and toward unreserved opposition to what was
happening to their people, and reappeared in random explosions over the
next three months as the tribesmen tried to elude the army. [13]
The events of June 14 and 15 happened with such
swiftness that only on the latter date was the army at Fort Lapwai
alerted, although Howard had received intimations of the discontent at
Tolo Lake and had heard that the tribesmen might be reassessing their
decision. On the fifteenth, Captain Perry sent out a detachment to
determine why the Indians had not reported to the agency. The small
mounted party had gone but twelve miles when they encountered messengers
from Mount Idaho with the first report of the outbreak, whereupon they
turned back to the fort with the settlers' plea for help.
Learning of the killings on the Salmon, and of
statements by White Bird and Joseph that the people were not coming onto
the reservation, General Howard promptly convened a meeting with
Monteith, Inspector E. C. Watkins of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and
Captain Perry at Fort Lapwai. Howard directed Perry to ready his two
companies to advance to Mount Idaho to relieve the citizens there.
Simultaneously, Monteith sent out some friendly Nez Perces, ostensibly
to bring in White Bird and Joseph, but more realistically to seek
confirmation of the deaths. He then directed the agent at Kamiah to move
his family and employees down to the Lapwai Agency. Later that day, news
came from Mount Idaho that more whites had been killed. "We want arms
and ammunition and help at once. Don't delay a moment," said the
message. In answer, Perry's troops, outfitted with three days' rations
in their saddlebags and enough for five more carried by pack mules,
moved out at eight that evening accompanied by Nez Perce scouts from the
agency. Through an aide dispatched to the telegraph at Walla Walla,
Howard ordered up the two cavalry companies stationed at Wallowa Valley
and the infantry at Fort Walla Walla. Howard then sent a dispatch to
Major Wood at Portland requesting the concentration of more troops and
supplies at Lewiston. He notified General McDowell of the situation,
requested authority to hire more scouts, and closed reassuringly with,
"Think we shall make short work of it." [14]
When Captain Perry rode out of Fort Lapwai, his
fighting strength consisted of Companies F and H, First Cavalry, 103 men
strong. In composition, the two companies more or less typified the
enlisted ranks in 1877, many of them foreigners of diverse vocational
background, including some recent recruits who were inexperienced in
military matters, particularly in such basic cavalry requisites as
riding and shooting. [15] Well outfitted for
the work ahead, each man wore the issue black campaign hat (or perhaps a
civilian-style hat), regulation blue army fatigue uniform, leather
gauntlets and boots, and a loaded cartridge belt. Prescribed equipment
included a tin canteen, haversack, shelter tent, saddlebags, and a
leather carbine sling, and his weapons, consisting of the Model 1873
Springfield .45-caliber single-shot carbine and a holstered Model 1873
Colt .45 revolver.
The officers with the command were all veterans with
western service. Connecticut-born Perry, age thirty-six, had been with
the First Cavalry since the Civil War and possessed considerable
experience of the Northwest Indian frontier. He had most recently
participated in California's Modoc War of 1873, where he was wounded,
and he owned two brevets for distinguished Indian wars service. Perry
personally commanded Company F. His subordinate officer was First
Lieutenant Edward R. Theller, attached from the Twenty-first Infantry at
Fort Lapwai. Theller was from Vermont and had served with the California
volunteers during the Civil War and with Perry during the Modoc
campaign. Company H was commanded by Captain Joel G. Trimble, who, like
Perry, had seen service with the First Cavalry since the Civil War.
Trimble had fought at Gettysburg, Cold Harbor, and Five Forks, and he
had been twice wounded in action. His second-in-command was
forty-one-year-old First Lieutenant William R. Parnell, an Irish
immigrant and veteran of European wars, including the famous charge of
the six hundred at Balaclava. He had served with the New York cavalry
during the Civil War before joining the regulars and gaining extensive
experience under George Crook in Oregon and Idaho during the late 1860s.
[16]
The troops traveled all night along the muddy
Lewiston-Mount Idaho road, moving part of the way with skirmishers
and flankers advanced to counter a surprise attack by the warriors.They
reached Cottonwood and Norton's Ranch at about 10:00 a.m. on the
sixteenth. After breakfasting there, they proceeded across the rolling
Camas Prairie toward Mount Idaho, ascertaining from the smoldering
haystacks and ranch buildings they spotted en route that they were
entering the zone of conflict. Approaching Grangeville at sundown, they
passed by Norton's abandoned wagon and dead horses. At Grangeville,
frightened armed citizens presented Perry with details of the outbreak,
informing him that a large body of Nez Perces had passed by on the
prairie that morning headed in the direction of White Bird Creek on the
Salmon. The troops bivouacked in a field, intending to go on to the
vicinity of the attacks next day. That plan was scuttled after a
delegation of townspeople convinced Perry of the necessity of moving
forward and punishing the tribesmen before they crossed the Salmon. At
9:00 p.m., a trumpeter sounded "Boots and Saddles," and the cavalrymen
made preparations for a night march. Eleven citizens volunteered to
accompany the troops as guides, and all got underway by 10:00 p.m. [17]
For three hours, the soldiers groped south-southwest
along the road toward White Bird Canyon, passing en route near Tolo Lake
to assure that the Nez Perces had left that area. At about 1:00 a.m.,
they crested the rise leading into the canyon, the troopers halting to
rest and await daylight. About 4:00 a.m., as dawn peeked over the
eastern horizon, Perry ordered the march resumed and the cavalrymen
started down through a steep and narrow gorge, traversing an old wagon
road that led directly into White Bird Canyon. It was Sunday, June 17,
and the soldiers moved forward with Company F leading the way in a
column of twos, followed by Company H in identical order. Garbed in
greatcoats, their carbines and revolvers at the ready, the command
traced its way for several miles along a dry creek bed, occasionally
skirting around undergrowth and generally paralleling the gradually
widening canyon in its descent. Soon the soldiers encountered a woman
and two children taking refuge in a ravine. The woman was Mrs. Isabella
Benedict, whose husband had been killed by the warriors. Her
four-year-old daughter had a broken arm. She told the soldiers that many
tribesmen had passed down the canyon during the night.
The men gave the Benedicts food from their haversacks
and a blanket, then moved down the grade, soon bearing into a broad
valley several hundred yards wide, almost surrealistic in its grandeur
and described as "rolling prairie . . . dotted here and there with
wave-like swells." [18] The rising hillocks
formed a perpendicular ridge dominating the distant front, while a long,
rolling ridge paralleled the soldiers' left, beyond which White Bird
Creek angled in toward the Salmon, several thousand feet below. One
hundred yards in front rode Lieutenant Theller and an advance guard of
eight men from Company F, while the citizens and several Nez Perce
scouts from Lapwai Agency, riding on either side, served as flankers. In
the increasing daylight, Theller's men, now moving up a gentle incline
to the ridge in front, could discern an immense pony herd and, beyond
that, distant warriors moving toward them. One of the volunteers
recalled seeing loose stock running all about. "It was in the breeding
season and stallions were fighting, mares squealing, etc., and the noise
of all this made many of our horses hard to manage, so that many of the
men were badly excited before the fighting began." [19]
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