The trail journals of the first two government exploring expeditions commanded by Lieutenant John Charles Frémont, of the United States Engineers, and advised by Kit Carson, mountain-man, are to be found together published, spring of 1845, as reports transmitted by the Secretary of War to the National Senate and House. These journals, recording peril and privation faced for the wide public good and not for narrow private gain, occupy their honored niche among the golden archives of the Republic, and should be better known in American school and home. The trails themselves are eternal, denoted by names which have endured, many of them, unto this day. Of the men who may proudly and truthfully say, “I was with Frémont,” or “I was with Carson,” few indeed remain; and they will soon be gone, for man passes on, while that which he has wrought survives.
The Oliver Wiggins in this narrative is real. I have talked with him. He was the little boy under the wagon, and he was the Taos lad who won the Kit Carson rifle; he was upon the Frémont and Carson First Expedition, and he was upon the Second[6] Expedition, by way of the Salt Lake to Fort Hall. However, there he turned back, with the other Carson men. In taking him through, as in having him ascend the highest peak, voyage the Salt Lake in the rubber boat, and be prominent in various such adventures, I have added to his biography as told to me. Yet in these credits I have not exalted him more than is his due, for brave men rarely tell of all that they have done well.
The other personages also are real, as members of the Frémont or of the Carson party. Some of the conversation is quoted from the Frémont reports; the remainder is applied according to the characteristics of the speakers, or is adapted from sentiments expressed at divers times and places. The incidents of course are based upon the Frémont journals, with sidelights from the recollections of Major Wiggins, and from the Frémont “Memoirs of My Life,” and like chronicles bearing upon the day.
The two principals, Lieutenant (later Captain, Colonel and General) Frémont, and Scout (later Colonel and General) Christopher Carson, thought highly each of the other; and this is warrant that they were manly men. Manly men respect manly men. Lieutenant Frémont said: “With me, Carson and truth are the same thing;” and he refers to their “enduring friendship.” Kit Carson left all—new ranch, home, wife, dear associates—which, save honor, he valued most, to accompany the lieutenant upon a[7] Third Expedition, and in every crisis of march, camp, battle and politics he stuck stanchly to him. “I owe more to Colonel Frémont than to any other man alive,” he declared. Thus friend should stand by friend.
This Third Expedition, of 1845–1846, again into the Great Basin and across the Sierra Nevada Range to the Valley of the Sacramento, was timed to the conquest of California by American arms; but it is another long story. Following the Third Expedition, having resigned from the Army Colonel Frémont, in 1848–1849, voluntarily conducted a Fourth Expedition, upon which many lives were lost to cold and hunger amidst the winter mountains of south central Colorado; and in 1853–1854, a Fifth Expedition, once more across the Great Basin to California. In these two expeditions Kit Carson did not take part. He had the duties of home, and family, which also are man’s duties; and the duties of agent over the Ute and Apache Indians.
After that, came Civil War service for both friends, in fields separate.
Edwin L. Sabin.
San Diego, California.
May 15, 1912.