Steamboats, Historic Newspaper Resource, OTD Revisions

The title of this item could have been “Random Thoughts,” but that would not have helped people decide if they wanted to start/keep reading. (Also bad karma for “Search Engine Optimization” – more on that in a later blog.)

A week or so ago, I received an e-mail from Bill Burley of the Snake River Sternwheeler Association, a non-profit corporation trying to restore an actual sternwheel ship. He tracked me down through my On This Day about the steamboat Shoshone, which made its first trial run on the Snake River on May 16, 1866. I have actually done several OTD items about steamers – North Idaho, as least, has a rich steamboat history. It took me awhile to respond here in my blog because I was then finalizing the proposal package for my book, and that put several other projects behind.

Li'L Millie in (Earlier) Operation. Association photo.

The Sternwheeler Association (see “Links” page above) has purchased a small steamer, called the Li’l Millie, which was previously approved to carry 43 passengers. They are seeking donations to restore the ship so they can run excursions on the Snake above Hells Canyon. In this, they are recreating another era on the Upper Snake, including operation of the steamer Norma. Stop by their web site to read more about it … and hopefully make a donation to help them out. (Umm. Wonder if Idaho had “riverboat gamblers” on its fancier steamers? Now that would be a cool re-enactment.)

The Norma, by the way, was built on the Upper Snake River in 1890-1891. The Idaho Register (Idaho Falls, March 20, 1891) reprinted an item from the Weiser Leader that said, “We learn the steamboat Norma will shortly begin making regular trips to the Seven Devils’ landing. The vessel is a masterpiece in steamboat mechanism, and during the coming year will convey a great amount of freight to and from Seven Devils.”

Things did not go well, however. “Instead of Sailing the Norma is Sold,” Owyhee Avalanche (October 24, 1891): “The steamer Norma, built in 1890 to ply upon the Snake River between Huntington bridge and the Seven Devils mining country, was sold at sheriff’s sale on Saturday last to Captain W. P. Gray, of Portland, for $4,000. [The builder could not pay his bills, so Capt. Gray bought it for one Jacob Kamm.] … What will become of the Norma we do not know positively, but from indications we believe she will be taken down the Snake into the Columbia with next year’s rise of water.” Reprinted from Weiser Signal.

Steamer Norma. Oregon Historical Society

Their guess was off on the timing; the Norma did not move down-river until 1895. The Idaho Statesman reported (June 21, 1895), “The recent trip of the little steamer Norma over the Huntington rapids of the Snake and on to Lewiston, a distance of 180 miles, is considered a remarkable feat of navigation.”

After that, the Norma operated only on the lower Snake and (possibly) on the Columbia.

That information about the Norma came from a very quick search in a new (to me) online research resource at GenealogyBank.com, which I have also added to my “Links” page. While they are a fee-based (subscription) service, their prices are not unreasonable and they seem to have an excellent database. Their search process also seems much easier and more effective than other newspaper databases I have tried. (And no, I have no financial or other personal interest in this outfit.)

I gave GenealogyBank the state, a year span (1890-1920), plus the key words “norma” and “steamboat” or “steamer” and got a half-dozen or so good “hits” in newspapers of that period. Very impressive.

After I signed up for the service, a few weeks back, I almost immediately doubled my "stock" of historic newspaper articles related to my stock-raising book. Most of the early hits were confirmations of information I already had from other sources, but some were new.

I also found much new material for my "On This Day" blog series. Those of you who have followed that series for a long time have probably noticed that I am now "recycling" many of the older events. You have perhaps also noticed that most have been revised, with 10 to 30% new information.

With my book proposal on its way to a publisher, and the OTD cycle more into revision mode, I can start spending more time on other topics. Among those is a historical novel in the planning stage, using a lot of the information collected for the nonfiction book.

Irish in the West : Beyond the American Pale (Book)

“Between 1845 and 1910 approximately five million people left Ireland for the United States. The vast majority of them were Catholic, desperately poor, and without the work skills that could command decent wages.” So begins the Introduction to Beyond the American Pale: The Irish in the West, 1845-1910 by David M. Emmons, Emeritus Professor of History at the University of Montana (University of Oklahoma Press, Norman: 2010).

Immigrants aboard ship for departure.
Illustrated London News (1850).*

To put that number in perspective, those emigrants came from a nation whose population peaked at about 8.5 million just before the Great Famine of the 1840s, and averaged only about 5.6 million over the time period in question.

This is a very significant text, and a monumental scholarly achievement … “The product of three decades of research and thought.” The hardback contains 350 pages of description and analysis, and over one hundred pages of supporting material. The font used, smaller than the typical paperback, allowed the publisher to cram huge amounts of information into those pages. (Full disclosure: I received this book as a free review copy.)

This book is important because typical histories of the Irish in American tend to focus on “ethnic enclaves” in the larger cities, mostly on the East coast. As Dr. Emmons says, “Historians have not paid a great deal of attention to the Irish American experience in western America.” He then briefly outlines what he thinks are the reasons for this relative neglect. Beyond the American Pale is meant to fill the resulting gap.

He next gets into the meat of his thesis: These Irish emigrants were “beyond the pale” – not just outside the mainstream of American life, but actively rejected by that society. Back then, job postings often said, “Irish need not apply.” Their Roman Catholicism was the highly-visible issue that called forth such vitriol from overwhelmingly Protestant America. Yet Emmons argues persuasively that the root cause lay in the amalgam of their religion with ancient Celtic folkways.

Building on the work of other experts, Professor Emmons says that the Irish “were premodern leftovers – communal, dependent, fatalistic, passive, traditional – attempting to make their way in a modern industrial society that was individualistic, independent, optimistic, aggressive, and innovative.”

Emmons then spends some time assessing “The West” the Irish were moving into. Actually, he describes a variety of Wests. But his emphasis on “industrial society” was the crucial element. Conventional stories of the West focused on the homesteaders and cowboys (and sheepmen) who provided grain, meat, and other foodstuffs to feed that society.

Miners in Butte Montana, many of the them Irish, ca 1908.
Credit (probably) Butte-Silver Bow Archives.*

Yet western gold, silver, copper, wood products, and so on were equally important, if not more so. Their production required large numbers of men who would do the hard, dangerous work for rock-bottom wages. There simply weren’t enough “modern” – independent, optimistic, aggressive – workers willing to fill the need. Enter the desperately poor, unskilled Irishmen, who had to take any jobs they could get. Still, while the industrial engine needed the Irish, it did not embrace them; they were still “beyond the pale.”

Emmons devotes two chapters to comparing and contrasting the Irish in America to two other groups of outsiders: black slaves and Native Americans. He discusses the variety of reasons, or excuses, that led citizens of the Northern industrialized states to view Irish Catholicism as a threat equal to that of the Southern institution of black slavery. Beyond that, it appears that blind prejudice equated incomprehensible Native American spiritual beliefs to the “superstitious” practices of the Papist emigrants.

Intertwined within that analysis, Emmons describes how emigrating to the United States showed the depth of Irish desperation. To move away from the home turf, he declared “was to be detached from community – and that was the cultural equivalent of falling off the edge of the earth. The Irish word for community was muintir; there is no adequate English translation. Na muintiri were held together by bonds of family, tradition, and shared and intensely local values.”

The fact that the emigrants faced distrust and contempt when they arrived only aggravated the problem. Their answer was entirely predictable: “They set up their parallel universe – their own schools, churches, fraternities, neighborhoods, and rookeries.”

Emmons spends some time studying that phenomenon. He concluded that “the Irish went to where the Irish were.” That is, once some Irishmen had a foothold at a particular place, or in a particular situation, others soon followed. This is a well-supported assessment. However, his discourse sometimes implies that the Irish were unique, or at least unusual in this regard, and that is somewhat problematic. Records show clearly that ties of blood and marriage – for English, as well as various ethnic groups – commonly led to family enclaves all over the West. Yet the Irish versions do seem both more broadly based within the community, and more tightly knit.

The final chapter examines the relationship between these Irish communities and the American labor movement. Being culturally and historically predisposed to resist exploitation, the Irish were often at the forefront of that movement. Yet, in Emmons’ view, militant Irish unionism was never about international socialism. The Irish community was too “intensely local” for such a strain to take root.

The chapter concludes with a discussion of the debate among the Irish in America about how far they might bend to perhaps achieve “assimilation.” The majority concluded that rampant anti-Catholicism in mainstream America made that next to impossible. It was then an article of secular faith that the West embodied America’s future. By refusing to compromise their core values, the Irish might thus have cut themselves off from that future. Instead, Emmons says, “They built their own West and their own future. Only Irish needed to apply.”

St. Mary’s Catholic Church, Butte, ca 1920.
Credit (probably) Butte-Silver Bow Archives.*

I have only one quibble, and that is not with the author. The publisher’s Product Description describes the book as “masterful yet accessible.” It is certainly masterful. The “accessible” claim is perhaps based on the author’s interweaving of selected Irish-American “folk stories” into the text. Also, the writing style is clear and crisp, and not over-loaded with academic jargon. However, his historical discussions are wide-ranging, tightly reasoned, and (sometimes) controversial. They often require close, careful study to achieve full understanding.

As just one example, consider his discussion of the “West(s)” where the Irish found themselves “beyond the pale.” Emmons calls them subregions of “The West” and says, “I count eight real ones as well as the two constructed ones.” One of the “constructed” subregions is, of course, the mythic West of story, song, and movies – he calls it the “heroic” West. Another subregion, the “Urban West,” had its own characteristics and was “the one most favored by westering Irish.” The author devotes many pages to describing these subregions, sometimes quite extensively. The explanations are fascinating and informative, but a casual perusal could miss important nuances and implications.

Beyond the American Pale is an authoritative and valuable treatise on the history of the Irish in the American West. Readers with an interest in that subject should find it well worth their time.

* Not from book, which has no illustrations other than on the dust jacket.

Lewis & Clark at Long Camp [otd 5/14]

William Clark and Meriwether Lewis.
Independence National Historical Park,
National Park Service.

On May 14, 1806, the Corps of Discovery rose early on a frosty morning and began packing baggage and gathering horses. Captains Lewis and Clark sent three hunters across to the north side of the Clearwater River as an advance party. By noon, the rest of the Corps had crossed and begun to set up camp.

The Corps left Fort Clatsop on the Oregon coast in late March. They reached Nez Percé country in late April and re-entered Idaho on May 5th.

The captains wanted to recross Lolo Pass as soon as possible. They knew all too well how much rough terrain separated them from the navigable Missouri River. On May 7, the Corps saw that their hope of an early crossing was futile. Lewis wrote, “The spurs of the Rocky Mountains which were in view from the high plain today were perfectly covered with snow.”

A week later they crossed the Clearwater to a campsite recommended by the Nez Percé. They would remain at this campsite – a mile or so north of today’s Kamiah – for nearly a month. Later writers referred to it as “Camp Choppunish” (Choppunish being the Corps’ term for the Nez Perce) or simply the “Long Camp.” The Expedition’s winter encampments had been at Fort Mandan in North Dakota and at Fort Clatsop. Except for those stops, the Corps spent more time at Camp Choppunish than any other spot along their route.

The Americans did not linger willingly. They tried to use the time productively by gathering provisions and more horses for the journey. However, hunting proved difficult and yielded only sparse returns. Unfortunately, by this time, the whites had exhausted their supply of normal trade goods.

Captain Clark’s medical skills, quite effective in a rough-and-ready fashion, provided the Expedition’s most reliable source of foodstuffs and mounts. Also, to their surprise, commonplace items such as brass coat buttons were a worthwhile medium of exchange.

Lolo Trail, Idaho. Montana Historical Society.

When restlessness and boredom began to adversely affect morale, the captains resorted to an age-old formula: athletic events and games. They involved the Indians in many of these activities and most competitions had a normal mix of winner, white and red. There was one exception, however: The Nez Perce were better horsemen than the whites. As Sergeant Patrick Gass wrote, “These Indians are the most active horsemen I ever saw. They will gallop their horses over precipices that I should not think of riding over.”

Finally, on June 10th, the Expedition resumed its journey. They were still too early, however, and the snowdrifts forced a temporary setback. Still, the Corps marched across Lolo Pass and out of Idaho on June 29, 1806.
                                                                                 

References: Stephen E. Ambrose, Undaunted Courage: Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West, Simon & Shuster, New York (1996).

Patrick Gass, Carol Lynn Macgregor (Ed.), The Journals of Patrick Gass, Mountain Press Publishing Company; Missoula, Montana (1997).

Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, Gary E. Moulton (Ed.), The Definitive Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln (2002).

James P. Ronda, Lewis and Clark Among the Indians, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln (1984).

Hydroelectric Power for Pocatello [otd 2/22]

On February 22, 1894, electricity flowed through a local "grid" and incandescent lights glowed over a broad expanse of Pocatello, Idaho. The event was the culmination of an effort that many citizens had thought quixotic at best, if not hair-brained. Residents considered Pocatello a “coming” city, but this might be too much, too soon.

Oregon Short Line locomotive, Pocatello, ca 1890.
Utah State Historical Society.

The town began in 1882 as a chunk of railroad right-of-way. Its location at the junction of the Oregon Short Line and Utah & Northern railways fueled explosive growth. Some squatters conveniently ignored the fact that the land was part of the Fort Hall Indian Reservation. Negotiation and payments finally resolved that issue in 1888, a year after the railroad shops were relocated to Pocatello from Eagle Rock.

By 1890, a year after it was incorporated as a village, Pocatello was thriving. Developers were replacing clapboard and frame buildings with structures made of stone and brick. Boosters touted the possibility of over-taking Boise City as the largest town in the state.

Daniel Swinehart was among those boosters. A butcher, he moved to Pocatello from Colorado in 1888 and set up shop. Watching the amazing growth of the city, he began to consider what other improvements might be possible. At some point the Pocatello Electric Light and Telephone (PEL&T) Company began supplying electrical power to a few businesses. Their distribution system transmitted surplus power from steam generators run by the railroad shops.

In 1892, Swinehart claimed an extensive water right on the Portneuf River for irrigation and electrical power. That fall, he dammed the river and dug a canal to direct the water to his planned power station. Unfortunately, nearby land owners brought suit when his dam caused their properties to flood during high water. Swinehart purchased some of the lots, and mitigated other problems by building up the river bank in key spots.

Dam site, ca. 1900. Bannock County Historical Society.

Workmen completed the power station during the summer of 1893. The Illustrated History said that the powerhouse was "furnished with the finest machinery that could be purchased at the time, comprising two Thomson-Houston one-thousand-candle-power incandescent-light dynamos and one Thomson-Houston fifty-light arc dynamo."

To “jump-start” his own coverage, Swinehart bought the PEL&T franchise and distribution system. He then added lines to handle more customers. Finally, as noted above, his grid was ready and electricity flowed from Swinehart's hydropower plant to his customers on February 22nd.

In 1895, Swinehart and some partners incorporated the Pocatello Power & Irrigation Company, allowing him to cash out his investment and still hold a third of the stock. However, by 1920, Swinehart had moved on, and the American Falls hydroelectric system supplied the city's power.
                                                                                 
References: [Hawley], [Illust-State]

Mine Investor and Operator Fred A. Davis [otd 1/3]

Fred A. Davis, long-time mine manager and investor, was born January 3, 1873 in Maine. The family soon moved to Nova Scotia, and Davis began working in the local mines when he was about thirteen years old. The district where he lived in 1891 was, and is, noted for its vast gypsum deposits. Fred may have worked there or in coal mines not far away.

Fred headed west around 1893. There, he worked at a number of properties in the Pacific Northwest, including the Blue Bird Mine in British Columbia. The Blue Bird was the oldest mining district in that province, having been discovered by Hudson’s Bay Company traders.

Salmon River Canyon near the mouth of Whitebird Creek.

In 1902, he became a superintendent for the Idaho Copper Mining & Smelting Company (ICM&S). The properties he managed were located in the mountains a few miles northwest of Whitebird, Idaho. The company hoped for a repeat of the bonanza that had taken off four or five year earlier in Cuprum.

Cuprum (Latin for “copper”) is located toward the south edge of the Seven Devils region of Idaho, about fifty miles from White Bird. About the time the ICM&S set up shop further north, Cuprum boasted numerous stores and restaurants, six saloons, a blacksmith shop, and even a hospital. Developers further north in Copperville, about a mile west of White Bird, surely hoped to duplicate that success.

The ICM&S held eight claims in the area, including one called the Indiana, where they had tunneled nearly 250 feet into a ridge. Describing the mines, the Illustrated History (1903) said, “Superintendent Fred A. Davis, from whom these data were obtained, informs us that all indications point toward the existence of an immense body of ore of average grade, with numerous high grade shoots and stringers. The values are in copper and gold, and the absence of zinc is an encouraging circumstances.”

However, that optimism, if that’s what it was (mine owners and operators commonly gave glowing reports to encourage investors), was misplaced. These mines never produced significant quantities of either gold or copper. (Like Cuprum, Copperville now consists of a scattering of homes, without even as much as a convenience store or filling station.)

The superintendent moved on with the rest. Fred A. Davis appears in newspaper reports of mining ventures and investments ranging from eastern Washington into western Montana. Thus, the Spokesman Review (Spokane) of July 18, 1936 reported that Fred A. Davis had sold his entire block of stock in the American Western Mines company. The paper said, “Davis was formerly president of the company.”

Two years later, the Spokane Chronicle (January 22, 1938) reported that a “Fred Davis” had purchased some claims he had worked ten years earlier under a lease arrangement. A year after that, a state of Washington circular noted that Fred A. Davis was the principal owner of the “King Solomon Mine,” near Okanogan.
                                                                                 

References: [Brit], [Illust-North]

M. Alfreda Elsensohn, Eugene F. Hoy (ed.), Pioneer Days in Idaho County, Caxton Printers, Caldwell, Idaho (1951).

“Directory of Washington Mines 1939,” Information Circular No. 2, Washington State Division of Mines and Mining, Olympia (1939).

“Site Report - Seven Devils,” Reference Series No. 116, Idaho State Historical Society (1981).

Captain Bonneville Views Curiosities at Soda Springs [otd 11/10]

General Bonneville.
Library of Congress.

On November 10, 1833, a party led by Captain Benjamin L. E. Bonneville [blog, Apr 14] camped near Soda Springs, Idaho. The “digest” of his journals prepared by Washington Irving said, “An area of about half a mile square presents a level surface of white clay or fuller’s earth, perfectly spotless, resembling a great slab of Parian marble, or a sheet of dazzling snow. The effect is strikingly beautiful … The most noted curiosity, however, of this singular region, is the Beer Spring, of which trappers give wonderful accounts.”

The native inhabitants had long known of the springs and the curiosities surrounding them, and they soon became familiar to whites who entered the region. Robert Stuart of the Pacific Fur Company apparently passed through the area in 1812. Oddly enough, however, his journal mentions nothing unusual. In 1818, Donald Mackenzie, of the British-Canadian North West Company, explored the Bear River and passed by the springs.

By the time Bonneville arrived there, the Beer Springs were a well-known landmark and curiosity. Irving wrote, “Captain Bonneville describes it as having the taste of beer. His men drank it with avidity, and in copious draughts. It did not appear to him to possess any medicinal properties, or to produce any peculiar effects.”

Less than a year after Bonneville visited, Trapper Osborne Russell [blog, July 8] commented, “some of which have precisely the taste of soda water when taken up and drank immediately. Others have a sour, sulperous [sic] taste.”

John C. Fremont passed through the area 10 years later. He expressed himself as being “disappointed in the expectations” previous accounts had raised, but still “found it altogether a place of very great interest.” He described the geological basis for the well-known Steamboat Springs and analyzed the deposits left by the spewing water, material he found to be over 90 percent calcium carbonate. He also wrote, “the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste.”

Soda Springs area in 1871.
Library of Congress, William Henry Jackson photo.

Not quite ten years after that, Oregon Trail pioneer Abigail Jane Scott [blog, July 29] wrote, “A half mile farther we came to the Steamboat Spring.  … it puffed to the highth one and two feet alternately but we are informed that at sun set it puffs to the highth of from six to ten feet. The water is impregnated with soda the same as the others, but it is much warmer than any that we had seen before.”

The Springs enjoyed a heyday as a genteel tourist destination after 1882, when the Oregon Short Line tracks entered the area. That waned in the 1920s. Much of the formation is now inundated by a reservoir, but Steamboat’s geothermal activity can still be seen boiling to the surface: The location is 2-3 miles west of the present town of Soda Springs.
                                                                                                                                      

References: [B&W]

H. M. Chittenden, The American Fur Trade of the Far West, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln (1986).

John C. Fremont, Report Of The Exploring Expedition To The Rocky Mountains ..., The Senate Of The United States, Government Printing Office, Washington, DC. (1845).

Osborne Russell, Aubrey L. Haines (ed.), Journal of a Trapper, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln (1965).

Abigail Jane Scott, “Journal of a Trip to Oregon,” Covered Wagon Women, Vol. V, Kenneth L. Homes, David C. Duniway (eds.), University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln (1997).

Robert Stuart, Kenneth A. Spaulding (ed.), On The Oregon Trail: Robert Stuart’s Journey of Discovery, University of Oklahoma Press (1953).

Review: Beyond Bear's Paw, Jerome A. Greene

Jerome A. Greene,  Beyond Bear’s Paw, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman (2010).

“The wrenching tale of Chief Joseph and his followers is now legendary, but Bear's Paw is not the entire story,” the publisher’s description says. “In fact, nearly three hundred Nez Percés escaped the U.S. Army and fled into Canada. Beyond Bear's Paw is the first book to explore the fate of these ‘nontreaty’ Indians.”

The climatic battle of the 1877 Nez Percés War occurred at Bear’s Paw, Montana, about 45 miles south of the Canadian border – the "Medicine Line" that would protect them from the U.S. Army. The “nontreaty” bands were those that refused to sign the coercive treaty of 1863, which drastically reduced the official Nez Percés reservation.

If it only described what happened to the escapees, Greene’s book would still be a valuable contribution to the history of the Nez Percés and their relations with Anglo-Americans. Thoroughly researched, this history contains a wealth of information about the topic.

Fortunately for us as readers and students, Greene goes “beyond” Bear’s Paw in the best, broad sense. He does not just tell us what happened after Bear’s Paw, he adds crucial context, before and after. Factors far beyond the local actions and oratory profoundly impacted what happened on the spot. Conversely, the fate of the Nimiipuu influenced how other tribes acted, and reacted.

He opens with a background chapter summarizing what brought the Nez Percés to Bear’s Paw. For a more complete treatment, consult Greene’s: Nez Perce Summer, 1877: The U.S. Army and the Nee-Me-Poos Crisis, Montana Historical Society Press, Helena (2000).

It’s important to understand that the Nez Percés War took place about a year after the Custer Massacre at the Little Bighorn. That clearly influenced how the government and the Army reacted to yet another Indian confrontation. After the Custer battle, Army pressure forced many Sioux and Northern Cheyenne Indians onto reservations. However, Sitting Bull and a large contingent of Sioux fled across the Medicine Line into Canada.

This alarmed Canadian authorities on two levels. The presence of such a large body of interlopers – 4,000 to 5,000 by most accounts – put a huge additional strain on northern buffalo herds. This caused hardship for the Canadian tribes, which depended on those herds for food, robes, and other essentials.

Also, by international law, the Sioux were “displaced persons” – given refuge, but not allowed to use Canada as a base to launch raids below the border. (Chief Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa Sioux. Library of Congress.)

Before the surrender at Bear’s Paw, Nez Percés emissaries traveled north to plead for Sioux help against the Army. Canadian authorities warned the Sioux that they would forfeit their right to asylum if they sent warriors south. When the Nez Percés refugees arrived, authorities had little attention to spare for their plight. They basically evinced “benign neglect,” leaving the Nez Percés to fend for themselves.

The Pacific Northwest bands found some shelter in encampments alongside the Sioux. Unfortunately, a few individuals exploited the situation to practically enslave the newcomers, forcing them to labor excessively for a pittance of food and shelter.

Meanwhile, the Canadians were desperately anxious for an accommodation that would send the Sioux back to the United States. U. S. negotiators countered with a proposal that the Sioux be moved further from the border, to lessen the possibility of sneak attacks. Of course, the Canadians did not have the resources for such an action.

Coincidentally, the first large group of refugees arrived while officials were exploring alternatives with Sioux leaders. The Nimiipuu’s stories and bedraggled condition only hardened Sioux resistance to any notion that they should return south.

Having set some of the context, Greene devotes a chapter to the various avenues that allowed an estimated 290 Nez Percés to reach the border. A fair number of them were out foraging when the Army attacked the main body. Some warriors filtered back into camp to join the fight, but other groups – men, women, and children – hid, under miserable conditions.

Later, Indians like the band under Chief White Bird refused to surrender and slipped out of camp. These escapes gave authorities an excuse – as if they needed any – to repudiate the agreement to return the captured bands to the reservation in Idaho.

This arose from a willful refusal to acknowledge the realities of Nez Percés politics. Tribes like the Nez Percés had no “head chief,” except perhaps a figurehead “appointed” by a white Indian Agent. Instead, they made decisions in a “council of equals.” Leadership depended upon an individual’s prestige and force of character.

Indeed, Chief Joseph surrendered, with his magnificently eloquent “I will fight no more forever” oration. However, in doing so, he spoke only for his own band, and any others who agreed with that decision.

As noted above, the fate of the escapees was heavily intertwined with that of the refugee Sioux. As herds in the north declined, Sioux bands, and a few Nez Percés, did begin to hunt below the border. Occasionally, they clashed with settlers or troops.

Greene’s research discovered yet another complicating factor: White traders routinely exaggerated the danger from these incursions. They hoped to induce the Army to build more posts along the border, providing them with lucrative contracts and customers.

More examination of how Eastern newspaper reports impacted events, for good or ill, might have aided our understanding of some of these issues. But perhaps those accounts were so muddled as to preclude any definitive conclusions.

When imminent starvation finally forced the Sioux’s surrender in 1880-1881, a few Nez Percés gave up also. Authorities sent the Nimiipuu to the Oklahoma reservation in Indian Territory, which the bands called “Eeikish Pah” – “the Hot Place.”

Nez Perce encampment along the Clearwater in Idaho, ca. 1898.

By then, a substantial fraction of the refugees had made their way back to the Northwest, or were on their way. They traveled as small groups. Greene concluded that “the largest [my emphasis] body of returnees to travel together back into the United States was a party of twenty-nine people … ” They also took their time. One returnee said, “I was three years getting back to Lapwai. We returned part of the distance each year.”

Greene devotes considerable space to Chief White Bird, who was eventually murdered under bizarre circumstances. The chief’s story, one of the few with decent documentation, provides one example of the trials faced by the relatively small number of refugees who stayed in Canada.

Many of those individuals eventually married into local tribes. Recently, despite a gap of generations, venturesome families have traced some of these intermarriage links and arranged reunions. Green concludes on a hopeful note: “That both groups today have sought and claimed their common heritage is a measure of their strength and unity after so long a time.”