Books: The Life of Kit Carson

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This anecdote may serve as an illustration of scores of similar
duties in which the agent was engaged. It was during the same year
that Carson received an injury which was the cause of his death.
He was descending a mountain, so steep that he led his horse by a
lariat, intending, if the animal fell, to let go of it in time to
prevent being injured. The steed did fall and though Carson threw
the lariat from him, he was caught by it, dragged some distance
and severely injured.

When the late Civil War broke out and most of our troops were withdrawn
from the mountains and plains, Carson applied to President Lincoln
for permission to raise a regiment of volunteers in New Mexico,
for the purpose of protecting our settlements there. Permission
was given, the regiment raised and the famous mountaineer did good
service with his soldiers. On one occasion he took 9,000 Navajo
prisoners with less than 600 men.

At the close of the war, he was ordered to Fort Garland, where he
assumed command of a large region. He was Brevet Brigadier General
and retained command of a battalion of New Mexico volunteers.

Carson did not suffer immediately from his injury, but he found
in time that a grave internal disturbance had been caused by his
fall. In the spring of 1868, he accompanied a party of Ute Indians
to Washington. He was then failing fast and consulted a number
of leading physicians and surgeons. His disease was aneurism of
the aorta which progressed fast. When his end was nigh, his wife
suddenly died, leaving seven children, the youngest only a few
weeks old. His affliction had a very depressing effect on Carson,
who expired May 23, 1868.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Letter from General W. T. Sherman, and from General J. F. Rusling.

In closing the life of Kit Carson, it will be appropriate to add
two letters, which were furnished at our request:

912 GARRISON AVENUE,
ST. LOUIS, MO., JUNE 25, 1884.

"Kit Carson first came into public notice by Fremont's Reports
of the Exploration of the Great West about 1842-3. You will find
mention of Kit Carson in my memoirs, vol. I, p. 46, 47, as bringing
to us the first overland mail to California in his saddle bags.
I saw but little of him afterwards till after the Civil War, when,
in 1866, I was the Lieutenant General commanding the Military
Division of the Missouri, with headquarters in St. Louis, and made
a tour of my command, including what are now Wyoming, Colorado and
New Mexico. Reaching Fort Garland, New Mexico, in September of
October, 1866, I found it garrisoned by some companies of New Mexico
Volunteers, of which Carson was Colonel or commanding officer. I
stayed with him some days, during which we had a sort of council
with the Ute Indians, of which the chief Ouray was the principal
feature, and over whom Carson exercised a powerful influence.

"Carson then had his family with him -- wife and half a dozen
children, boys and girls as wild and untrained as a brood of Mexican
mustangs. One day these children ran through the room in which we
were seated, half clad and boisterous, and I inquired, 'Kit, what
are you doing about your children?'

"He replied: 'That is a source of great anxiety; I myself had no
education,' (he could not even write, his wife always signing his
name to his official reports). 'I value education as much as any
man, but I have never had the advantage of schools, and now that
I am getting old and infirm, I fear I have not done right by my
children.'

"I explained to him that the Catholic College, at South Bend,
Indiana, had, for some reason, given me a scholarship for twenty
years, and that I would divide with him -- that is let him send two
of his boys for five years each. He seemed very grateful and said
he would think of it.

"My recollection is that his regiment was mustered out of service
that winter, 1866-7, and that the following summer, 1867, he (Carson)
went to Washington on some business for the Utes, and on his return
toward New Mexico, he stopped at Fort Lyon, on the upper Arkansas,
where he died. His wife died soon after at Taos, New Mexico, and
the children fell to the care of a brother in law, Mr. Boggs, who
had a large ranche on the Purgation near Fort Lyon. It was reported
of Carson, when notified that death was impending, that he said,
'Send William, (his eldest son) to General Sherman who has promised
to educate him.' Accordingly, some time about the spring of 1868,
there came to my house, in St. Louis, a stout boy with a revolver,
Life of Kit Carson by Dr. Peters, United States Army, about $40
in money, and a letter from Boggs, saying that in compliance with
the request of Kit Carson, on his death bed, he had sent William
Carson to me. Allowing him a few days of vacation with my own
children, I sent him to the college at South Bend, Ind., with a
letter of explanation, and making myself responsible for his expenses.
He was regularly entered in one of the classes, and reported to me
regularly. I found the 'Scholarship' amounted to what is known as
'tuition,' but for three years I paid all his expenses of board,
clothing, books, &c., amounting to about $300 a year. At the end
of that time, the Priest reported to me that Carson was a good
natured boy, willing enough, but that he had no taste or appetite
for learning. His letters to me confirmed this conclusion, as he
could not possibly spell. After reflection, I concluded to send
him to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, to the care of General Langdon C.
Easton, United States Quartermaster, with instructions to employ
him in some capacity in which he could earn his board and clothing,
and to get some officer of the garrison to teach him just what was
necessary for a Lieutenant of Cavalry. Lieutenant Beard, adjutant
of the Fifth Infantry did this. He (William Carson) was employed,
as a 'Messenger,' and, as he approached his twenty-first year, under
the tuition of Lieutenant Beard, he made good progress. Meantime
I was promoted to General in Chief at Washington, and about 1870,
when Carson had become twenty-one years of age, I applied in person
to the President, General Grant, to give the son of Kit Carson,
the appointment of Second Lieutenant Ninth United States Cavalry,
telling him somewhat of the foregoing details. General Grant promptly
ordered the appointment to issue, subject to the examination as to
educational qualifications, required by the law. The usual board of
officers was appointed at Fort Leavenworth and Carson was ordered
before it. After careful examination, the board found him deficient
in reading, writing and arithmetic. Of course he could not be
commissioned. I had given him four years of my guardianship, about
$1,000 of my own money, and the benefit of my influence, all in
vain. By nature, he was not adapted to 'modern uses.' I accordingly
wrote him that I had exhausted my ability to provide for him, and
advised him to return to his uncle Boggs on the Purgation to assist
him in his cattle and sheep ranche.

"I heard from him by letter once or twice afterward, in one of
which he asked me to procure for him the agency for the Utes. On
inquiry at the proper office in Washington, I found that another
person had secured the place of which I notified him, and though
of late years I have often been on the Purgation, and in the Ute
country, I could learn nothing of the other children of Kit Carson,
or of William, who for four years was a sort of ward to me.

"Since the building of railroads in that region, the whole character
of its population is changed, and were Kit Carson to arise from his
grave, he could not find a buffalo, elk or deer, where he used to
see millions. He could not even recognize the country with which
he used to be so familiar, or find his own children, whom he loved,
and for whose welfare he felt so solicitous in his later days.

"Kit Carson was a good type of a class of men most useful in their
day, but now as antiquated as Jason of the Golden Fleece, Ulysses
of Troy, the Chevalier La Salle of the Lakes, Daniel Boone of Kentucky,
Irvin Bridger and Jim Beckwith of the Rockies, all belonging to
the dead past.

"Yours Truly,

"W. T. SHERMAN."

"TRENTON, N. J., June 23, 1884.

"In accordance with your request to give my recollections of Kit
Carson, I would say that I met and spent several days with him
in September, 1866, at and near Fort Garland, Colorado, on the
headwaters of the Rio Grande. I was then Brevet Brigadier General
and Inspector United States Volunteers, on a tour of inspection
of the military depots and posts in that region and across to the
Pacific. General Sherman happened there at the same time, on like
duty as to his Military Division, and our joint talks, as a rule,
extended far into the night and over many subjects. 'Kit' was then
Brevet Brigadier General United States Volunteers, and in command
of Fort Garland, and a wide region thereabouts -- mostly Indian
-- which he knew thoroughly. Fort Garland was a typical frontier
post, composed of log huts chinked with mud, rough but comfortable,
and in one of these Kit then lived with his Mexican wife and several
half breed children.

"He was then a man apparently about fifty years of age. From what
I had read about him, I had expected to see a small, wiry man,
weather-beaten and reticent; but found him to be a medium sized,
rather stoutish, and quite talkative person instead. His hair was
already well-silvered, but his face full and florid. You would
scarcely regard him, at first sight, as a very noticeable man,
except as having a well knit frame and full, deep chest. But on
observing him more closely, you were struck with the breadth and
openness of his brow, bespeaking more than ordinary intelligence
and courage; with his quick, blue eye, that caught everything at a
glance apparently -- an eye beaming with kindliness and benevolence,
but that could blaze with anger when aroused; and with his full,
square jaw and chin, that evidently could shut as tight as Sherman's
or Grant's when necessary. With nothing of the swashbuckler or
Buffalo Bill -- of the border ruffian or the cowboy -- about him,
his manners were as gentle, and his voice as soft and sympathetic,
as a woman's. What impressed one most about his face was its rare
kindliness and charity -- that here, at last, was a natural gentleman,
simple as a child but brave as a lion. He soon took our hearts by
storm, and the more we saw of him the more we became impressed with
his true manliness and worth. Like everybody else on the border,
he smoked freely, and at one time drank considerably; but he had
quit drinking years before, and said he owed his excellent health
and preeminence, if he had any, to his habits of almost total
abstinence. In conversation he was slow and hesitating at first,
approaching almost to bashfulness, often seemingly at a loss for
words; but, as he warmed up, this disappeared, and you soon found
him talking glibly, and with his hands and fingers as well -- rapidly
gesticulating -- Indian fashion. He was very conscientious, and in
all our talks would frequently say: 'Now, stop gentlemen! Is this
right?' 'Ought we to do this?' 'Can we do that?' 'Is this like
human nature?' or words to this effect, as if it was the habit of
his mind to test everything by the moral law. I think that was the
predominating feature of his character -- his perfect honesty and
truthfulness -- quite as much as his matchless coolness and courage.
Said Sherman to me one day while there: 'His integrity is simply
perfect. The red skins know it, and would trust Kit any day before
they would us, or the President, either!' And Kit well returned
their confidence, by being their steadfast, unswerving friend and
ready champion.

"He talked freely of his past life, unconscious of its extraordinary
character. Born in Kentucky, he said, he early took to the plains
and mountains, and joined the hunters and trappers, when he was
so young he could not set a trap. When he became older, he turned
trapper himself, and trapped all over our territories for beaver,
otter, etc., from the Missouri to the Pacific, and from British
America to Mexico. Next he passed into Government employ, as an
Indian scout and guide, and as such piloted Fremont and others all
over the Plains and through the Rocky and Sierra Nevada Mountains.
Fremont, in his reports, surrounded Kit's name with a romantic valor,
but he seems to have deserved it all, and more. His good sense,
his large experience, and unfaltering courage, were invaluable to
Fremont, and it is said about the only time the Pathfinder went
seriously astray among the Mountains was when he disregarded his
(Kit's) advice, and endeavored to force a passage through the Rockies
northwest of Fort Garland. Kit told him the mountains could not be
crossed at that time of the year; and, when Fremont nevertheless
insisted on proceeding, he resigned as guide. The Pathfinder, however,
went stubbornly forward, but got caught in terrible snowstorms, and
presently returned -- half of his men and animals having perished
outright from cold and hunger. Next Kit became United States
Indian Agent, and made one of the best we ever had. Familiar with
the language and customs of the Indians, he frequently spent months
together among them without seeing a white man, and indeed became
a sort of half Indian himself. In talking with us, I noticed he
frequently hesitated for the right English word; but when speaking
bastard Spanish (Mexican) or Indian, with the Ute Indians there,
he was as fluent as a native. Both Mexican and Indian, however,
are largely pantomime, abounding in perpetual grimace and gesture,
which may have helped him along somewhat. Next, when the rebellion
broke out, he became a Union soldier, though the border was largely
Confederate. He tendered his services to Mr. Lincoln, who at once
commissioned him Colonel, and told him to take care of the frontier,
as the regulars there had to come East to fight Jeff Davis. Kit
straightway proceeded to raise the First Regiment of New Mexico
Volunteers, in which he had little difficulty, as the New Mexicans
knew him well, and had the utmost confidence in him. With these,
during the war, he was busy fighting hostile Indians, and keeping
others friendly, and in his famous campaign against the Navajos,
in New Mexico, with only six hundred frontier volunteers captured
some nine thousand prisoners. The Indians withdrew into a wild
canyon, where no white man, it was said, had ever penetrated, and
believed to be impregnable. But Kit pursued them from either end,
and attacked them with pure Indian strategy and tactics; and the
Navajos finding themselves thus surrounded, and their supplies cut
off, outwitted by a keener fighter than themselves, surrendered at
discretion. Then he did not slaughter them, but marched them to a
goodly reservation, and put them to work herding and planting, and
they had continued peaceable ever since.

"Kit seemed thoroughly familiar with Indian life and character,
and it must be conceded, that no American of his time knew our
aborigines better -- if any so well. It must be set down to their
credit, that he was their stout friend -- no Boston philanthropist
more so. He did not hesitate to say, that all our Indian troubles
were caused originally by bad white men, if the truth were known,
and was terribly severe on the brutalities and barbarities of the
border. He said the Indians were very different from what they used
to be, and were yearly becoming more so from contact with border
ruffians and cowboys. He said he had lived for years among them
with only occasional visits to the settlements, and he had never
known an Indian to injure a Pale Face, where he did not deserve it;
on the other hand, he had seen an Indian kill his brother even for
insulting a white man in the old times. He insisted that Indians
never commit outrages unless they are first provoked to them by
the borderers, and that many of the peculiar and special atrocities
with which they are charged are only their imitation of the bad acts
of wicked white men. He pleaded for the Indians, as 'pore ignorant
critters, who had no learnin', and didn't know no better,' whom we
were daily robbing of their hunting grounds and homes, and solemnly
asked: 'What der yer 'spose our Heavenly Father, who made both them
and us, thinks of these things?' He was particularly severe upon
Col. Chivington and the Sand Creek massacre of 1864, which was
still fresh in the public mind, said he; 'jist to think of that dog
Chivington, and his dirty hounds, up thar at Sand Creek! Whoever
heerd of sich doings 'mong Christians!'

"'The pore Indians had the Stars and Stripes flying over them, our
old flag thar, and they'd bin told down to Denver, that so long as
they kept that flying they'd be safe enough. Well, then, one day
along comes that durned Chivington and his cusses. They'd bin out
several day's huntin' Hostiles, and couldn't find none nowhar,
and if they had, they'd have skedaddled from 'em, you bet! So they
jist lit upon these Friendlies, and massacreed 'em -- yes, sir,
literally massacreed 'em -- in cold blood, in spite of our flag
thar -- yes, women and little children, even! Why, Senator Foster
told me with his own lips (and him and his Committee come out yer
from Washington, you know, and investigated this muss), that that
thar durned miscreant and his men shot down squaws, and blew the
brains out of little innocent children -- pistoled little papooses
in the arms of their dead mothers, and even worse than this! --
them durned devils! and you call sich soldiers Christians, do ye?
and pore Indians savages!'

"'I tell you what, friends; I don't like a hostile Red Skin any more
than you do. And when they are hostile, I've fit 'em -- fout 'em
-- and expect to fight 'em -- hard as any man. That's my business.
But I never yit drew a bead on a squaw or papoose, and I despise the
man who would. 'Taint nateral for men to kill women and pore little
children, and none but a coward or a dog would do it. Of course
when we white men do sich awful things, why these pore ignorant
critters don't know no better than to foller suit. Pore things!
Pore things! I've seen as much of 'em as any man livin', and I
can't help but pity 'em, right or wrong! They once owned all this
country, yes, Plains and Mountains, buffalo and everything, but
now they own next door to nuthin, and will soon be gone.'

"Alas, poor Kit! He has already 'gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds.'
But the Indians had no truer friend, and Kit Carson would wish
no prouder epitaph than this. In talking thus he would frequently
get his grammar wrong, and his language was only the patois of
the Border; but there was an eloquence in his eye, and a pathos in
his voice, that would have touched a heart of stone, and a genuine
manliness about him at all times, that would have won him hosts
of friends anywhere. And so, Kit Carson, good friend, brave heart,
generous soul, hail and farewell!

"Hoping these rough recollections may serve your purpose, I remain

"Very respectfully,

"Your obedient servant,

"JAMES F. RUSLING."

The following tribute to the matchless scout, hunter and guide is
from the Salt Lake Tribune:

He wrote his own biography and left it where the edition will never
grow dim. The alphabet he used was made of the rivers, the plains,
the forests, and the eternal heights. He started in his youth
with his face to the West; started toward where no trails had been
blazed, where there was naught to meet him but the wilderness,
the wild beast, and the still more savage man. He made his lonely
camps by the rivers, and now it is a fiction with those who sleep
on the same grounds that the waters in their flow murmur the great
pathfinder's name. He followed the water courses to their sources,
and guided by them, learned where the mountains bent their crests
to make possible highways for the feet of men. He climbed the
mountains and "disputed with the eagles of the crags" for points
of observation; he met the wild beast and subdued him; he met the
savage of the plains and of the hills, and, in his own person,
gave him notice of his sovereignty in skill, in cunning and in
courage. To the red man he was the voice of fate. In him they saw
a materialized foreboding of their destiny. To them he was a voice
crying the coming of a race against which they could not
prevail; before which they were to be swept away.

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