“A barren, desolate, and unexplored country”
Kit Carson
Christopher Houston Carson, known as Kit to posterity, led the life of the typical mountain man until 1842. Then a chance meeting with John C. Fremont led to, as Carson himself stated, the turning point of his life.
Born in Kentucky in 1809 and raised in Missouri, Kit Carson ran away from home in 1826 to seek his fortune in Independence, Missouri. Joining a wagon train to New Mexico, Carson became a teamster at the Santa Rita copper mine. But his heart longed for the mountains. In 1829, he enlisted in Ewing Young's trapping expedition to California, reaching the Sacramento River. By 1831, he was trapping in the Rockies, acquainting himself with the western trails, and learning to survive in the often harsh landscape. In 1836, Carson briefly worked for the Hudson’s Bay Company, but rejoined his old compatriot Jim Bridger to trap the upper reaches of the Yellowstone River.
Kit Carson occasionally conflicted with the Native American culture. In 1836 and 1837, he narrowly avoided bloodshed with the Blackfeet. On separate occasions, the Indians were, the record reports, scared off by the opportune appearance of the aurora borealis and being seriously weakened by a smallpox outbreak.
For a number of subsequent trapping seasons, Carson traipsed through Colorado and the Uintas. He was employed as a hunter at Bent’s Fort as well. In 1842, while transporting his young daughter to school in Missouri, Kit Carson met John C. Fremont. Fremont offered Carson a position as a guide for $100 month with the Great Pathfinder’s first expedition. In 1842 - 1843, Carson guided Fremont’s corps in explorations of the Great Basin, Pacific Northwest, and the reaches of California. In 1844, John C. Fremont’s report of his journey gave Carson significant credit for the expedition's success. Fremont’s journal made Kit Carson nationally famous.
In 1845, Carson accompanied Fremont’s third expedition, guiding it to Sutter’s Fort and then into the Klamath Country to the North. There word reached the party of war with Mexico. Fremont’s associates joined the Bear Flag revolt and Carson served with the California Battalion in the early days of the conflict.
Dispatched by Fremont to the east, Carson assisted Stephen Kearny in his efforts in the Southwest. Throughout the war, Carson shuttled back and forth between the coasts as a diplomatic and military courier.
In 1849, Carson and a partner began farming in New Mexico, but Kit was frequently absent to guide military parties and to skirmish with Indians. In 1852, Carson participated in his final trapping expedition. Appointed Indian Agent in 1853, Carson served in that capacity until 1861, somewhat hampered by illiteracy.
In 1856, Kit Carson dictated his autobiography to John Mostin. After the manuscript passed through several hands, it came into the possession of Dr. DeWitt Clinton Peters, who prepared and published the final journal, embellishing Carson’s activities to a degree.
In 1861, Carson resigned from the Indian Service to serve in the Civil War. Ultimately he would be breveted Brigadier General. In 1863 - 1864, he campaigned against the Navajo, and in November 1864, led a large force to Adobe Walls in Texas. At this outpost on the Canadian River, Carson led his troops in a fierce battle against 3,000 Kiowas, Comanches, and Arapahoes. The results were inconclusive. In 1866, Carson assumed command of Fort Garland in Colorado, and left the army in 1867. Settling in Colorado, Kit Carson’s health deteriorated. He died in 1868 at the age of 59.
Kit Carson was uneducated, but his experiences were rich and authentic. The words attributed to him through his autobiography demonstrate resourcefulness and gumption. They reflect the most positive attributes of the mountain man culture. Carson was not admirable in every aspect, but in most he was worthy of respect.
In this selection from Kit Carson’s Autobiography, Carson describes his experiences in 1845 California and on the return trip eastward.
At Klamath Lake our guide left us, and we set out for California. Our course was through a barren, desolate, and unexplored country until we reached the Sierra Nevadas, which we found covered with snow from one end to the other. We were nearly out of provisions but we had to cross the mountains, let the consequences be what they may. We went as far as we possibly could with our animals, when we were compelled to send them back. We then commenced making a road through the snow, beating it down with mallets. It was six feet deep on the level for a distance of three leagues. We made snowshoes and walked about over the snow to find out how far we would have to make a road. ...
Upon reaching the end of the snow, we could see the green valley of the Sacramento, and in the distance the Coast Range. I had been there seventeen years before, and knew the place well. Our feelings can best be imagined when we obtained a view of such a beautiful country. We returned to the place from which we had sent back our animals, and with nothing to eat but mule meat commenced the work of making the road. In fifteen days our task was accomplished, and we sent back for the animals. Driven by hunger, they had eaten one another's tails and the leather of the pack saddles, in fact everything they could lay hold of. They were in a deplorable condition and we would frequently kill one to keep it from dying, then use the meat for food.
We continued our march, and by much perseverance succeeded in making the road. This was very difficult, for the wind had drifted the snow and in many places had filled up the path which we had made. We finally got across, however, and commenced descending the mountain. Having done so, we left Fitzpatrick in charge of the main party, while Fremont, with myself and five or six men, went ahead to Sutter's Fort for provisions. On the second day after we left Fitzpatrick, Mr. [Charles] Preuss, Fremont's assistant, became lost. We made a search for him, traveling slowly and firing guns so that he might know where we were, but we could not find him. Four days later the old man found us. His pockets were full of acorns, and he had had no other food since he left us. We were all rejoiced at his return, for he was much respected by the party.
Three days after the return of Mr. Preuss to camp, we reached Sutter's Fort, nearly naked, and in as poor a condition as men possibly could be. We were well received by Mr. Sutter, who supplied us in a princely manner with everything we needed. We remained at the fort about a month, employed in making arrangements for our return to camp.
During our stay at the fort two of our party became deranged, I presume from the effects of starvation, followed by an abundance of food. One morning one of them jumped up, perfectly wild, and inquired for his mule. Although it was tied close by him, he started to the mountains to look for it. Some time later, when his absence became known, men were sent in search of him. We looked through all the neighborhood, and made inquiries of the Indians, but could hear nothing of him. We remained a few days vainly awaiting his return, and then departed, leaving word with Sutter to make search, and, if possible, find him, He did so, and sometime after our departure the man was found. He was kept at the fort and property cared for until he recovered his health, and- was then sent home to the States by Mr. Sutter.
About the first of April, 1844, we were ready to start for home. We went up the valley of the San Joaquin, and crossed the Sierra Nevada and Coast Range by a beautiful low pass. We continued under the Coast Range till we struck the Spanish Trail, which we followed to the Mohave River, a small stream that rises in the Coast Range and is lost in the Great Basin. We continued down the Mohave and made an early camp at the point where the trail leaves the river. In the evening a Mexican man and a boy came to our camp. They informed us that they belonged to a party of Mexicans from New Mexico. They were encamped with two other men and two women at some distance from the main party, herding horses. The man and boy were mounted, and the two men and women were in their camp, when a party of Indians charged on them for the purpose of running off their stock. They told the men and women to make their escape, and that they would guard the horses. They ran the animals off from the Indians and left them at a spring in the desert, about thirty miles from camp.
We started for the place they described, and found that the animals had been taken away by the Indians who had followed them. The Mexican asked Fremont to aid him to recover his animals. Fremont told his men that they might volunteer for this service if they wished, and that he would furnish horses for them to ride. Godey and myself volunteered, supposing that some of the other men would join us, but none did, and Godey and I and the Mexican took the trail of the missing animals. When we had gone twenty miles the Mexican's horse gave out, and we sent him back. The night was very dark, and at times we had to dismount to feel for the trail. We perceived by the signs that the Indians had passed after sunset. We became much fatigued, and unsaddling our horses, we wrapped ourselves in the wet saddle blankets and laid down. The night was miserably cold and we could not make a fire for fear of its being seen. We arose very early and went down into a deep ravine where we made a small fire to warm ourselves.
As soon as it was light, we again took the trail, and at sunrise perceived the Indians encamped two miles ahead of us. They had killed five of the animals and were having a feast on them. Our horses could travel no farther, and we hid them among the rocks and continued on afoot. We reached the camp unperceived, and crawled in among the horses. A young colt became frightened, and this alarmed the rest. The Indians at length noticed the commotion and sprang for their arms. Although they were about thirty in number, we decided to charge them. I fired, and shot one. Godey fired and missed, but reloaded and fired again, killing another. Only three shots had been fired and two Indians were slain. The remainder now fled, and taking the two rifles I ascended a hill to keep guard while Godey scalped the dead Indians. He scalped the one he had shot and was proceeding towards the other one, who was behind some rocks. He was not yet dead, and as Godey approached he raised up and let fly an arrow, which passed through Godey's shirt collar. He again fell back and Godey finished him.
We rounded up the animals and drove them to the place where we had concealed our own. Here we changed horses and rode back to our camp with all of the animals, save the ones the Indians had killed for their feast.
We then marched on to where the Mexicans had left the two men and women. We discovered the bodies of the men, horribly mutilated. The women, we supposed, were carried into captivity. But such was not the case, for a party traveling in our rear found their bodies very much mutilated and staked to the ground.
We continued our march without molestation till we reached the point where the trail leaves the Virgin River. There we intended to remain a day, our animals being much fatigued, but discovering a better situation, we moved our camp a mile farther on. Here one of our Canadians missed one of his mules, and knowing that it must have been left at the first camp, started back after it, without informing Fremont or any of the party of his project. A few hours later he was missed. The members of the horse-guard said he had gone to our last camp to look for his mule, and I was sent with three men to seek him. On reaching the camp, we saw a pool of blood where he had fallen from his horse, and knew that he was killed. We followed the trail of his animal to the point where it crossed the river, but we could not find his body. We then returned to camp, and informed Fremont of his death. In the morning he went with a party to seek the body, but it could not be found. He was a brave, noble-souled fellow, and I was saddened by his death. I had been in many an Indian fight with the Canadian, and I am confident that if he was not taken unawares, he killed one or two Indians before he fell.
We now left the Virgin River, keeping to the Spanish trail, till we passed the Vega of Santa Clara, when we left the trail and struck out towards Utah Lake. We crossed the lake and went to the Winty, thence to Green River and Brown's Hole; then to Little Snake River, and on to the mouth of St. Vrain's Fork. We then crossed the mountains and struck the Laramie River below the New Park. We passed this, and went on into the Old Park. From there we moved to the Balla Salado, the headwaters of the south fork of the Platte, then to the Arkansas River at the point where it leaves the mountains, and down it to Bent's Fort. We arrived On July 2, 1844, and remained until after the Fourth, when Fremont and his party started for the States, and I set out for Taos. On the Fourth, Mr. Bent gave a splendid dinner to Fremont and his party. The day was celebrated as well as in many of the towns of the States.
Captions
Bridgeport Valley -- Bridgeport Valley.
Carson R Drainage – The Carson River drainage. The Carson River and Carson City, Nevada’s State Capital, were named for Christopher “Kit” Carson.
Carson – Christopher “Kit” Carson.
CarsonFremont -- Kit Carson, left, and John C. Fremont, famous western explorer, seated at right.
Credits
Bridgeport Valley and Carson River Drainage, photos by Mark McLaughlin
All other images from the Collections of the Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley
