Saga of Chief Joseph

by Helen Addison Howard

  Another link in the chain of unfortunate incidents was forged when two settlers in the Wallowa Valley, A. B. Findley and Wells McNall,8 believed their horses had been stolen by Indians of Joseph’s band. The whites took their rifles and set out to search for the animals on June 23, 1876. On reaching the Indian village they met several warriors, among them, We-lot-yah, who objected to their accusation that Nez Perces had stolen their horses. A bitter argument ensued and the unarmed We-lot-yah attempted to wrest the gun from McNall when he threatened the Indians. McNall called to Findley to help him. Findley fired, and We-lot-yah fell dead. The two men then made a hasty escape from the village.

  McNall was a quarrelsome, quick-tempered man, and it is significant that the Indians blamed him for the murder. The missing horses were found quietly grazing near the Findley ranch.

  In a letter to General Howard, dated July 3, 1876, Agent Monteith reported the trouble and stated that the attack had been entirely unprovoked by the Indians. It was, he wrote, a case “of willful, deliberate murder.” He asked Howard for troops “to protect the Indians while fishing.”9 It would appear that certain settlers in the Wallowa Valley deliberately tried to provoke the Nez Perces to committing some act of reprisal, hoping thus to obtain an excuse for the Indians’ forcible removal. In speaking of these troubled times, Joseph says:

  They [white men] stole a great many horses from us, and we could not get them back because we were Indians. The white men told lies for each other. They drove off a great many of our cattle. Some white men branded our young cattle so they could claim them. We had no friend who would plead our cause before the law councils. It seemed to me that some of the white men in Wallowa were doing these things on purpose to get up a war. They knew that we were not strong enough to fight them. I labored hard to avoid trouble and bloodshed. . . . When the white men were few and we were strong we could have killed them all off, but the Nez Perces wished to live at peace.

  We have had a few good friends among white men, and they have always advised my people to bear these taunts without fighting. Our young men were quick-tempered, and I have had great trouble in keeping them from doing rash things. I have carried a heavy load on my back ever since I was a boy.10

  In the meanwhile the Wal-lam-wat-kins held a council. Young warriors demanded revenge—a life for a life. Pleas by Joseph and the old men for a peaceful settlement met deaf and malicious resistance on the part of the young men. How could they expect justice from the white man’s tribunals? Had not thefts of cattle and land clearly showed the rapacious greed of the whites, and were the evil-doing settlers not supported by the government chiefs? These impassioned orators, standing in the light of the campfire, aroused other hot-tempered young men to a feverish pitch of excitement.

  As the harangue grew more clamorous the slight figure of a woman quietly rose and moved to the center of the assembly. She, the daughter of the murdered We-lot-yah, raised her hand to speak. Simply, her voice saddened by her recent tragedy, she pleaded, “My friends, we do not wish other people or our other friends to be killed for the killing of one person, so let us drop the matter.”11 It was a brave, unselfish gesture, and no doubt had the calming effect of oil on raging waters.

  Nevertheless, Chief Joseph sent an ultimatum to the whites in the valley demanding surrender of the guilty men. If, within a week’s time, this demand was not complied with, he threatened to destroy the farms of the settlers. As the deadline drew near the ranchers prepared for war and appealed to the army post at Walla Walla to come to their rescue. Forty whites collected at McNall’s ranch, ready to resist an Indian attack.

  Lieutenant Albert G. Forse with forty-eight regulars of Company E, First Cavalry, arrived on the day of retribution set by Joseph. Forse left his troops at a ranch five miles from Joseph’s camp, which was located at the foot of Wallowa Lake. The lieutenant took two men, Jim Davis and Thomas H. Veasey, with him and rode on to the Indian village. Davis would act as interpreter. They met the chief and his men, all of whom were “mounted and posted on a long, flat bluff, which now overlooks the town of Joseph.”12 All the Indians except Joseph were stripped to the waist and daubed with war paint.13

  Accompanied by Davis and Veasey, Forse advanced to meet the chief for a parley between the lines. After considerable discussion Joseph willingly agreed to withdraw his threats and to keep his men on the south side of Hurricane Creek, if the whites would stay on their north bank of the stream. Forse was favorably impressed with Joseph and the justice of his case. The lieutenant promised to use his influence to bring the accused men to trial before civil authorities.

  Having reached an amicable agreement, the troops went into camp, while the Nez Perces washed off their war paint. The military continued peacefully to occupy the valley until the last of September, when they returned to Fort Walla Walla.

  The truce, though, did not lessen the resentful feeling among the Indians. So tense did the situation become that Major, later Colonel, Henry Clay Wood—accompanied by Captain David Perry, First Cavalry, commanding officer at Fort Lapwai; Assistant Surgeon Jenkins A. Fitzgerald; and Lieutenant (Brevet Colonel) William R. Parnell, First Cavalry—held a conference with Joseph at Umatilla on July 23, 1876. The chief frankly stated his case to the officers, declaring that

  . . . it was true one of his brothers had been killed by whites in Wallowa Valley; that the Indian who was killed was much respected by the tribe, and was always considered a quiet, peaceable, well-disposed man; that the whites who killed him were bad, quarrelsome men, and the aggressive party; that the whites in the valley were instigated by those in authority, and others in Grande Ronde Valley, to assault and injure the Indians while fishing and hunting in that section of country; that he wished the white man who killed the Indian brought to the agency to be there confronted with his accusers.

  Joseph said that among the Indians the chiefs controlled the members of their band, and had power to prevent bad Indians doing wicked things; and he reasoned that those in authority over the whites had, or should have, the same control over white men, and hence the white authorities in the vicinity of Wallowa Valley and elsewhere were directly responsible for the killing of his brother; that his brother’s life was of great value; that it was worth more than the Wallowa Valley; that it was worth more than this country; that it was worth more than all the world; that the value of his life could not be estimated; nevertheless, that now, since the murder had been done, since his brother’s life had been taken in Wallowa Valley, his body buried there, and the earth had drunk up his blood, that the valley was more sacred to him than ever before, and he would and did claim it for the life taken; that he should hold it for himself and his people from this time forward, forever; and that all the whites must be removed from the valley.14

  This council drew forth censure from Agent Monteith, who maintained that Joseph had at first not seemed much concerned over his tribesman’s death, and had decided to press his advantage and become demanding only because of the importance given the affair.

  It became evident to the Department of the Interior that Joseph was determined to assert his rights to the valley, and that he would hold the United States and Oregon officials responsible for any future murders or depredations committed by the settlers. Major Wood was able to adjust matters to some extent by telling Joseph that the white men would be tried in that vicinity, and that Indians would be summoned as witnesses.

  The accused murderers were eventually brought to trial at Union (Oregon), where a jury of ranchers acquitted them. The Indians, it is said, refused to testify against Findley, who was a peaceable man and a friend of Joseph’s.15 This verdict, however, aroused other Nez Perces to demand that the men be surrendered to them and tried according to tribal law. Of course, the settlers refused to comply, and the feeling of resentment and unrest persisted. It led to a second council in November of 1876. Howard asked that another commission be appointed to “settle the whole matter before war is even thought of.”16

  On this
occasion the Interior Department appointed a commission consisting of D. H. Jerome, of Saginaw, Michigan, as chairman; Brigadier General O. O. Howard; Major H. Clay Wood; William Stickney, of Washington DC; and A. C. Barstow, of Providence, Rhode Island, “to visit these Indians, with a view to secure their permanent settlement on the reservation, their early entrance on a civilized life, and to adjust the difficulties then existing between them and the settlers.”17

  The council was held in the mission church at Lapwai. Joseph and his brother, Alokut, with several headmen and tewats, or medicine men, attended the conference. The commissioners said of Joseph: “An alertness and dexterity in intellectual fencing was exhibited by him that was quite remarkable.”18

  Several times during the protracted meetings Joseph and Alokut seemed willing to agree to the proposals of the committee. But the powerful influence of the belligerent tewats overcame their hope for compromise and they refused to relinquish their claims to Wallowa. This put the commission in a dilemma, because as history amply testifies, it is dangerous to try to modify or influence the religious beliefs of a subject people. However, the committee investigated the teachings of Smohalla and made a recommendation concerning the Dreamers.

  The commissioners explained as follows the government’s reasons for requesting Joseph’s band to move onto the Lapwai Reservation:

  Owing to the coldness of the climate, it is not a suitable location for an Indian reservation. . . . It is embraced within the limits of the State of Oregon. . . . The State of Oregon could not probably be induced to cede the jurisdiction of the valley to the United States for an Indian reservation. . . . In the conflicts which might arise in the future, as in the past, between him and the whites, the President might not be able to justify or defend him. . . . A part of the valley had already been surveyed and opened to settlement . . . if by some arrangement, the white settlers in the valley could be induced to leave it, others would come.19

  To all these statements Joseph replied that

  . . . the Creative Power, when he made the earth, made no marks, no lines of division or separation on it, and that it should be allowed to remain as then made. The earth was his mother. He was made of the earth and grew up on its bosom. The earth, as his mother and nurse, was sacred to his affections, too sacred to be valued by or sold for silver and gold. He could not consent to sever his affections from the land that bore him. He asked nothing of the President. He was able to take care of himself. He did not desire Wallowa Valley as a reservation, for that would subject him and his band to the will of and dependence on another, and to laws not of their own making. He was disposed to live peaceably. He and his band had suffered wrong rather than do wrong. One of their number was wickedly slain by a white man during the last summer, but he would not avenge his death.20

  “The serious feeling and manner in which he uttered these sentiments was impressive,” the commissioners wrote. To the chief’s arguments they lamely replied that the President “was not disposed to deprive him of any just right or govern him by his individual will, but merely subject him [Joseph] to the same just and equal laws by which he himself [the President] as well as all his people were ruled.”21

  Young Joseph might well have asked the commissioners whether they thought the climate too cold for the settlers to thrive in Wallowa. He could have pointed out that Nez Perces for generations had survived the rigorous climate of Oregon without complaint, and now white men found it suitable for farming and stock raising.

  As for the alleged fact that the land was within the state of Oregon, Major Wood exploded this theory in his official report. He would not grant Joseph sole right to claim the valley over all other Nez Perces, but he stated all bands should have equal rights there. He frankly admitted, though, that “the extinguishment of their title of occupancy [of Wallowa Valley] . . . is imperfect and incomplete.”22 If Joseph’s contention, supported by Wood’s report, that Lawyer had no legal right to sell Wallowa, was correct, then the state of Oregon had no basis for claiming it.

  That the President might not be able to “justify or defend” the Indians in future conflicts which might arise between the two races, Joseph knew only too well; the inrush of ten thousand miners and settlers to the Lapwai country in complete disregard of treaty stipulations had proved the government’s inability to cope with the situation. Nor had the Interior Department ever carried out the Treaty of 1855 in respect to the survey of farms for the Indians. Seemingly, it never occurred to the committee to make a recommendation for the land to be surveyed at such a late date, and so adjust one of the main conflicts between the Nez Perces and the settlers. Some of the Indians, hoping to settle disputes with the whites, had fenced off the areas they claimed for farming and grazing.

  The most amusing argument advanced by the commissioners was their assertion of Joseph’s being “subject to the same just and equal laws” by which the President “as well as all his people were ruled.” The commission failed to mention that Indians were wards of the government and, as such, under existing reservation laws, they were subject to the orders of the agents, who could control the Nez Perces’ freedom of movement. To a man of Joseph’s strength of character and independence, arbitrary rules were obnoxious. No doubt he felt the same as Sitting Bull, who once declared: “God made me an Indian, but not a reservation Indian.”

  The committee’s weak arguments failed to convince Joseph, who refused to agree to the demands of the government and quit the council. Doubtless three factors influenced his action: He firmly believed his people owned the land in question; his native spirit of independence rebelled at any plan which would subject him or his people to the will or whims of an alien state; and he distrusted the government’s faith in keeping a promise. Moreover, he had no assurance that the land would be permanently secured to his people if he did consent to move to Lapwai. Twice the reservation’s size had been reduced since the Treaty of 1855. If he came to Lapwai, the treaty faction could sell his land there, just as they had sold the Wallowa Valley in 1863. Furthermore, Joseph had learned that the white man’s phrase, permanent home, had two interpretations—one for theory, and one for expediency. Believing he had won another round with the government, Joseph returned to Wallowa.

  In its report to the Secretary of the Interior, the commission accepted the tenets of Grover’s letter and upon these as precedent recommended four things: that the Dreamer medicine men be confined to their agencies, since their influence on the nontreaty Indians was pernicious; that a military post be established in Wallowa Valley at once; thirdly, that “unless in a reasonable time Joseph consented to be removed, he should be forcibly taken with his people and given lands on the reservation”;23 and finally, that if members of his band overran property belonging to whites, or committed depredations, or disturbed the peace by threats of hostility, then sufficient force should be employed to bring them into subjection. Major H. Clay Wood made a minority report recommending that “until Joseph commits some overt act of hostility, force should not be used to put him upon any reservation.”24

  In January, 1877, the Department of the Interior, promptly acting upon the commission’s report, decided to move Joseph onto the reserve—by compulsion, if necessary—and issued orders to Agent Monteith to that effect. Early in February the latter sent a delegation of treaty Nez Perces to ask Joseph to move of his own free will, lest the government be obliged to resort to force.

  Reuben, head chief and Joseph’s brother-in-law; his son, James Reuben; Whisk-tasket, Joseph’s father-in-law; and Captain John, a Nez Perce scout, were the delegates who visited Wallowa. James Reuben, acting as spokesman, explained to Joseph and his headmen the nature of the visit on the first night of the group’s arrival. He repeated the orders of the Indian Bureau and outlined the advantages of reservation life. The government, he affirmed, wanted all the Indians to lead a peaceful existence, unhampered by white men. It could not offer protection to roving bands, nor could it give them material assistance to establish homes and f
arms if they persisted in remaining off the reservation. The delegates urged the chief and his people to choose farms before the other nontreaty Indians settled on the choicest of vacant lands.

  Joseph listened quietly and attentively to his nephew’s plea, but refused to give any indication of his feelings that night. The next morning, after hours of meditation, he addressed the treaty delegation in the council lodge:

  I have been talking to the whites many years about the land in question, and it is strange they cannot understand me. The country they claim belonged to my father, and when he died it was given to me and my people, and I will not leave it until I am compelled to.25

  Supporting the decision of their chief, the headmen expressed their determination to remain in the Wallowa Valley. After a short stay, the treaty Nez Perces returned to Lapwai and reported the outcome of their interview to the agent. Monteith then wrote to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs:

  I think, from Joseph’s actions, he will not come on the reserve until compelled to. He has said so much to the Indians who have moved on the reserve, calling them cowards, etc., that he would be lowering himself in his own estimation, as well as in that of his immediate followers, did he not make some show of resistance. By making such resistance, he could say to the other Indians, “I was overpowered, and did not come of my own choice,” in case he is forced on the reserve.26

  However, Monteith wisely recommended that Joseph’s band be permitted to spend four or six weeks annually at Imnaha in order to fish, since there were no settlers in the region and only trails leading into it. The Imnaha Valley was a “great salmon-fishing resort of the Indians.” Acting under orders of the Indian Bureau, the agent notified Joseph that he would be given until April 1, 1877, “to come on the reserve peaceably.”27