Blood and Thunder

Although Kit Carson preferred action to words in his own life, he respected men he perceived as educated more than anything. Hyperaware of his own illiteracy, Carson had an “instinctive deference” to highborn easterners; he “seemed comfortable playing the role of a loyal lieutenant—or, some might say, to a henchmen” (87-8).

One such easterner was John Charles Fremont. An army topographer and explorer, Fremont had confidence and ambition that outpaced his abilities. He had one major advantage: He was married to Jessie Benton Fremont, the daughter of Senator Thomas Hart Benton, the face and voice of Manifest Destiny.

The Oregon Trail, newly forged off the Santa Fe Trail in Kansas, was still considered too dangerous and unknown for most pioneers to use. Benton commissioned Fremont to map the trail in meticulous detail. Fremont quickly hired Carson, who was familiar with the area, as his guide. With beaver trapping all but done, Carson was in need of work.

Fremont’s First Expedition, launched in June 1842, was an incredible success. Publication of an Oregon Trail manual with illustrations, maps, etc. ignited a national fervor, making Fremont and Carson celebrities and sending thousands of settlers to the West.

In 1846, Kearney and his Army of the West continued westward toward Santa Fe. He kept his men at a quick and demanding pace; he had enough experience on the plains to know that time was of the essence. He needed to be sure the army intersected with the bison before the herds migrated north, or his men would starve. By July 4, they were already on half rations. Finally, four days later on July 8, Kearney found what he was looking for at Pawnee Rock on the Santa Fe Trail: a herd of buffalo stretching as far as the eye could see. As many as 50 million buffalo roamed the plains at this time in America’s history.

By the end of July 1846, the Army of the West had hit the Arkansas River and Pike’s Peak in modern-day Colorado. Kearney decided to stop the caravan at Bent’s Fork, an “outpost of American civilization” (95), before the final push into New Mexico. Here, disaster struck: the grazing horses stampeded, for unknown reasons. “On the Santa Fe Trail, stampedes like this were considered a disaster of the first order […] In their madness, many horses bolted for the far horizon and were never seen again” (95-6). In American wild, pack animals and livestock often meant the difference between victory and defeat, and even life and death. 

Fremont’s second expedition with Kit Carson in 1843 was even more successful than the first. The two ranged all over California and Utah, debunking various geographical myths of the time (e.g., that Great Salt Lake was not connected to the Pacific; that the Wasatch Mountains and the Sierra Nevada were landlocked). Fremont was especially interested in finding the Buenaventura, a mythical river believed to run from the Great Lakes to the Pacific. In searching for it and failing to find it, he illegally crossed into Mexican territory, with no apparent regard for the political and personal ramifications. Fremont’s rash decisions sometimes got the group into trouble; without Carson’s knowledge, they might have suffered the same fate as the Donner Party in the Sierra Nevada. Wherever Fremont’s impulsiveness got his party in trouble, Carson’s steady head and wealth of knowledge got them out again. Despite his mistakes, Fremont was lauded as an “American Magellan” on his return to Washington in August 1844, and print accounts of the expedition sold quickly. Fremont painted Carson, now nicknamed “The Pathfinder,” as a frontier jack-of-all-trades.

In truth, many of Fremont’s accomplishments were due to Carson’s know-how, which include the knowledge of the Indians and mountain men, but their relationship did not suffer from any sense of rivalry. Both were staunchly loyal to each other throughout their lives, and they complemented each other well. “If Fremont was impetuous, visionary, erratic, and at times vainglorious, Carson was cautious, pragmatic, steady, and always humble” (102). Thus, Fremont secured Carson’s services for his next great adventure in the summer of 1845.

Chapter 10 jumps back 30 years to 1818, before Mexico won independence from Spain. The increased raiding of Narbona and the other Navajo resulted in the Spanish drafting “a treaty that for the first time established tribal boundaries and recognized many of the Navajo grievances” (105-6). Narbona’s victory was short-lived; a drought soon forced him to take his people to the very edge of their territory, marked by the four sacred mountains. It is testament to Narbona’s skill as a negotiator that they stayed with their enemies, the Hopi of northern Arizona, during this time, although “it must have saddened and humiliated Narbona to see his once affluent outfit reduced to such a desperate refugee existence” (106).

In the late 1820s, Narbona learned that the drought had ended. The Navajo could finally return to the Chuska Valley. Mexico had won its independence from Spain in 1821, though this change of ownership meant little to the Navajo. “In practical terms, they saw no difference between Mexican New Mexicans and Spanish New Mexicans; by whatever name, they were still the enemy” (107-8). Those Navajo who remained during Narbona’s exodus had attempted to make peace with the New Mexicans and were “treacherously murdered” for their efforts. The New Mexicans had killed no fewer than 24 Navajo leaders at peace talks, leading to a violent cycle of retribution from the Navajo. It was to this state of affairs that Narbona returned.