Customer Reviews

A Newer World : Kit Carson John C Fremont And The Claiming Of The American West

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

David Roberts needs a strong editor, one who is not afraid to exercise some control. I love this topic, but after 100 pages I found it all too easy to put this book down. Two things made it less than stellar reading: (1) There is probably too much disjointed trivia (I say "probably" because some readers may want every word of it). The writing simply didn't flow for me. (2) Roberts should be taken to the woodshed for his pretentious vocabulary, such as using "punition" when "punishment" would be the appropriate word. This happens on every page. He reminds me of a very insecure professor I had who would say such things as "the largesse of the Greek theater," when he meant the "largeness." The goal of every writer should be to communicate, not to exhibit psuedo-erudition. PS: I taught my first college English class in 1967, so, yes, I have a little experience in these things.

BOOK REVIEW A Newer World: Kit Carson, John C. Frémont, and the Claiming of the American West By David Roberts Simon & Schuster, NY, 2000, 304 pages, $25.00 hardback.

David Roberts, the author of A Newer World: Kit Carson, John C. Frémont, and the Claiming of the American West, traveled "virtually every step of their itineraries, by car and on foot" to deepen his understanding of four campaigns he selected to epitomize the two explorers' triumphs and failures. The four campaigns Roberts selected begin with the first Frémont expedition in 1842 with Kit Carson as his guide. Part Two of the book explores the roles played by Frémont and Carson in precipitating the conquest of California. In the third part, Roberts examines Frémont's disastrous fourth expedition in the San Juan Mountains without Carson serving as his guide. The forth and final segment of the book reveals the relationship between Carson and General Carleton during the Navajo conquest and confinement. Contrasts between the illiterate Carson and Frémont the West Point graduate, who in later years would be nominated by the Republican Party to run for president, are forever interesting. Carson saved Frémont's life repeatedly, but it was Frémont, with help from his articulate wife, who engineered Carson's rise to national celebrity status. In the forth segment of Robert's book titled The Long Walk, we learn General Carleton was the arch villain of the Apaches and Navajos-not Carson. Carleton selected the site for the Indian concentration camp-Bosque Redondo on the Pecos River- against the advice of his own inspection team. He underestimated the number of Indians that would be incarcerated, he woefully prepared the site to accommodate the captives, and he was wrong is his belief the nomadic tribes could become self-sufficient on such a small, barren site. Maybe Carleton planned it that way. After the Confederates were defeated in New Mexico during the early part of the Civil War, Carleton marched his regiment of California Volunteers eastward to Santa Fe. The victorious Union commander, Colonel Edward R.S. Canby was reassigned to an eastern command, and Carleton took over the command of the Union army in the Department of New Mexico. With no more Confederates to fight, Carleton turned his eye to the Apaches and Navajos. Roberts describes Carleton as extremely competent and aggressive, always driving himself and his men, a stickler for discipline, and one who could not admit an error or change his mind. He "had become obsessed with a psychopathic hatred of Apaches." With the 2350 men brought in from California itchy for further action, Carleton launched his campaign against the Southwestern Indians to give his soldiers something to do. While still assigned as the leader of the New Mexico Volunteers, Colonel Kit Carson was on his way to Fort Stanton when overtaken by a messenger sent from Carleton. Not fully literate in reading the English language, Carson asked one of his troopers to read the message. It read, All Indian men of that tribe are to be killed whenever and wherever you can find them: the women and children will not be harmed, but you will take them prisoners and feed them at Fort Stanton until you receive other instructions about them. If the Indians send in a flag and desire to treat for peace, say to the bearer...that you have been sent to punish them for their treachery and their crimes: That you have no power to make peace; that you are there to kill them wherever you can find them.... I trust that this severity in the long run will be the most humane course that could be pursued toward these Indians. Carson believed in following orders as faithfully as the next soldier, but he could not bring himself to carry out the letter of Carleton's genocidal imperative. In February of 1863, Carson dictated a letter of resignation, but Carleton refused to accept it. There was only one man, Carleton insisted, capable of carrying out the next phase of his grand scheme. Carson had the same orders to kill on sight when he marched into Canyon de Chelly in the conquest of the Navajos. And again he ignored Carleton's instructions. Roberts suggests any other officer in Carleton's command would have been charged with insubordination. Kit Carson, idolized by millions, fictionalized in the Western novels, befriended by governors, congressmen, senators, and presidents, was too large of an icon for General Carleton. David Roberts is the author of twelve books including two that are of special interest for aficionados of historic Southwest cultures- In Search of the Old Ones: Exploring the Anasazi World of the Southwest; and Once They Moved Like the Wind: Cochise, Gerónimo, and the Apache Wars. o

Reviewed by Don Edward Clay, Editor of the Four Corners Pathfinder

Roberts is a thorough researcher who has delved into the character of two diverse but inexorabley linked men. The books focus is the men and their personalities rather than the details of their exploits. However, there is enough adventure for any armchair explorer in this scholorly treatise. In addition Roberts examines the mens place in history and has tried successfully, I think, to shine an unbiased light on each mans role in the tameing of the west.

You know, it used to be that historians would content themselves with wandering into the university or national library to idly pore over musty and ancient tomes and monographs, and that this would constitute the bulk of their research. These days, though, historians are a hardier breed, and they like to race excitedly across the countryside, getting a firsthand glimpse at historical sites and badgering old codgers for oral accounts.

David Roberts is of this latter breed, and it shows in his work. Evidently, he is a mountaineer of some accomplishment: he co-wrote one book with Conrad Anker, who was on the expedition that found Mallory's body on Everest, and yet another with Jon Krakauer of "Into Thin Air" fame. So he was not one to merely read about the exploits of Fremont and Carson; he decided to personally travel in their footsteps, across plain and desert and mountain. Consequently, his book is informed by his own knowledge of travel conditions in the West and his assessment of the various camp sites and surrounding terrain. He has visited most of the key locations and knowledgeably discusses their current conditions.

As for archival material and existing biographies of the duo, Roberts is not at all shy about repeatedly proclaiming his opinions of their merits. Many previous works on Fremont and Carson are dismissed as being factually flawed, overly Freudian, or hopelessly biased. Unlike some previous authors in this field, Roberts was able to draw upon the long-lost secret diaries of Charles Preuss, who accompanied Fremont on his first, second, and fourth expeditions. The Preuss material is an invaluable corrective to the self-serving official histories penned jointly by Fremont and his wife Jessie, and the documents cast Fremont in a far worse light.

Roberts is also sensitive to the Native American side of the story, and goes to considerable lengths to discuss the involvement of Fremont and particularly of Carson in Indian affairs. This might not sit well with readers who uncritically buy into the "Manifest Destiny" school of thought.

On the whole, Carson comes off rather well in this account, as Roberts strives to shift popular opinion away from the revisionist view of the scout as a savage and barbaric Indian killer. Fremont, however, gets relentlessly mauled, and based on the surviving independent accounts of his fourth expedition, rightfully so. His historical accomplishments may have been significant (not so much for original discoveries as for the popularization of westward expansion), but he seems to have been very much lacking as a man.

This is a boldly written and robust survey of the accomplishments of Carson and Fremont, and it definitely has a lot to recommend it. Readers of exploration literature or of the American West will want to pick it up.

Somewhere in the American psyche there must be a special place for moldering heroes-those who haven't quite turned to dust from complete neglect, kept alive by the constant refocusing of the distorting lens of time and history. John C. Fremont and Kit Carson are prominent among the inhabitants of that place. David Roberts has written a remarkable book that examines these two flawed men who were great American heroes at one time. This is good because both men are too fascinating to be left behind.Kit Carson is examined as the Indian Killer (a perfectly acceptable occupation in 1870) turned advocate(a perfectly acceptable occupation in 2000). Fremont, "The Pathfinder"'s is examined for its brilliance-he more than anyone else made manifest destiny possible with the mapping of trails west but popular through his avidly read (but probably written by his wife, Jessie)accounts of his expeditions. Fremont and Kit Carson had a symbiotic relationship on their way to fame. The one time Fremont tried to mount an expedition without Kit Carson as his guide makes for one of the most graphic chapters in this book. Stuck in the mountains in the snow several men die, some resort to cannibalism. This contains well researched information,because Fremont himself conveniently decided not to write a book about that crossing. It might have made the 1856 presidential campaign more raucous than it was (The Pathfinder as the Cannibal Candidate?) A fascinating look at these men, this book was read in a day, and now goes into my reference library. I know I will go back to it often.

I'm beginning to think that one of Dave Roberts' favorite pastimes is debunking, or at the very least shedding new light on, old myths. He did a bang up job in "Great Exploration Hoaxes," and continues here with his examination of John Charles Fremont and Kit Carson.

Fremont, (in case you were like me and had no idea who he was), was a surveyor and leader of 5 expeditions into the west. His fame was due mostly to the fact that he was in the right place at the right time. He also had an industrious, wordsmith for a wife who turned his reports into interesting accounts of his journeys. These, when published, were instantly popular with a public that was just beginning to catch the Wild West Fever.

Nicknamed "The Pathfinder," Fremont actually did very little original exploring. Instead he followed the trails pioneered by the early mountain men who had crisscrossed the western frontier in search of beaver. Fremont's guide on these expeditions was Kit Carson.

Frankly, Kit Carson is by far the more interesting of the two men, and Roberts does a good job of reconstructing a personality which was by nature very private. His job was complicated by the fact that Carson was illiterate and disliked being in the limelight. Nevertheless his actions, which were recorded by many (including Fremont) speak eloquently about the man. This is a fascinating read for anyone who enjoys redisovering history through the eyes of a talented writer.

Although neither man was native to the West, Kit Carson and John C. Frémont helped carve out the edges of the American frontier in the 1840s. Roberts does a good job of telling the story of these two men and how their lives intertwined over the years and the impact they had on the West. He also tackles in a sensitive manner some of the larger questions surrounding the westward expansion of the U.S. and the dislocation of both Native Americans and earlier Hispanic settlers.

Roberts writes an interesting text about Carson and Fremont, but often straddles a PC bias that readers may find a bit annoying, but just when one thinks he's gone too far, he throws a bone to keep his personal biases in check and keeps one reading. I'm also considering sending Roberts a thesaurus so he can reverse what he must have considered when writing; he felt a need to throw in many larger than necessary words often on every other page--uncalled for and distracting.He's writing about Fremont and Carson for God's sake not an intellectual treatsie to prove his literary manhood.

By all means read this book if your interest is in John Fremont and Kit Carson. I gave 4 stars due to the same reasons already mentioned. I think though that either Roberts lacked confidence in his writing ability and so 'beefed up' his verbage or he was following the advice of an editor. Actually the wording would have been OK if consistently used beginning to end, instead the reading evidences sporadic uncommon wordage. Nevertheless, Roberts has written a book that really is worth the read!

This is not a book about Carson or Fremont, but rather Charles Preuss. Of course, the author employs the whole Carson/Fremont conceit so that the Preuss Voice can be heard loud and clear. It seems that once the author latched on to the Pruess journals, it would thereafter color his interpretation of Fremont. And Carson's "dry" memoirs are ripe for the author to infuse his own voice, always reflecting Preuss. I also liked the roadmap to spot filler in the Carson narrative. If the author was unselfconsciously making fun of himself, it went unwritten.

There are lapses in scholarship when first hand accounts are not quoted directly. I will give two examples. For the third expedition, the author writes, "There would be no iconoclast [Preuss] penning a secret diary on this expedition." Except Edward Kern did. And the journals are at Yale, but have not been published fully. An abridged version is online. If the author knew of the Kern papers or Kern's status as an iconoclast, he did not divulge it.

And how about the creation of the Bear Flag? The author says that the flag was created with a bear "on its hind legs" the morning of June 14, made mostly of women's clothing. As if I am supposed to believe that these armed "revolutionists" had their wives with them or that they thought to borrow their clothes (or were wearing them.) Worst of all, he says "the original is archived by the society of California Pioneers in San Francisco."

The fact is there is no definitive account of the creation of the bear flag. Many accounts came 50 years after the fact, but they tend towards a flour sack and red flanel, probably taken from one of the men. There were two flags taken aboard the USS Portsmouth in 1846 and delivered to the California Pioneers in 1855. The bears were passant, i.e. on all fours. And the flags were destroyed in the 1906 earthquake.

I give the author credit for setting the scene of the mountain man and for explaining some Indian tribal dynamics. But I can do without the Preuss Voice.