About book Blood And Thunder: An Epic Of The American West (2006)
My ignorance sometimes appalls me. The first time I visited Santa Fe --in my 40’s, old enough and educated enough to know better--I was astounded to see that the city had been founded ten years before Plymouth Rock felt the tread of a Pilgrim’s foot. I knew the Spanish had been nosing around Mexico and the Southwest since the 16th Century, but had no notion they’d done anything permanent. Well, they had. And in 1826 young and orphaned Christopher Carson of Missouri sauntered down the Santa Fe trail on his way to becoming a legend in his time and ours. Hampton Sides takes the title of Blood and Thunder from one of the sensational novelettes of the day purporting to relate the true exploits of the heroic mountain man. It’s a good description not only of his fictional exploits, but of his actual deeds, which were indeed numerous and implausible to ordinary mortals. “Blood and Thunder” a poor description of the man himself, however. An understated, wiry, little guy, he was apparently incapable of braggadocio or self-promotion. He had a laconic, wry turn of speech that epitomizes the taciturn but spot-on phrasing of our classic western literary hero. Like the one he uttered when someone asked him if a compatriot of his might have been guilty as suspected of cannibalism during John Fremont’s disastrous fourth expedition. “During starving times,” Carson responded, “no man walks in front of Bill Williams.” I appreciate the art with which Hampton Sides put his subject’s life and character in context. Unlike the Marco Polo bio I read recently (Dec. 28 comments) Sides gives us not only a chronology of Carson’s life and deeds, but the feeling and texture of his time and place. He never launches an episode without backstory and character descriptions of other important players in the narrative. And just when you think you might be hearing a bit too much about Kearny or Fremont or Carleton or Stockton and too little about Kit, here he comes back on stage and you see clearly not only his actions, but their source and influence--how he got there and where he went. It takes great artistry to weave such a plethora of information and characters into a coherent story, and Sides makes the tale not only coherent but thrilling and suspenseful. Mostly, the Carson Sides gives us was a good guy whose reputation for courage and compassion and pioneering skills is well-deserved. He was trilingual, though illiterate. He lived and married and reproduced both among the Indians and the Mexicans before Manifest Destiny brought the hordes from the east. Still, he was a staunch unionist who--like most of the Indians themselves--fought mercilessly when his side was attacked. He had one daughter by the first love of his life, a Blackfoot woman named Singing Grass. He took her back east (Missouri) for her education. He served as guide for John Fremont on three of his four expeditions and probably had at least as much to do with their success as Fremont himself. He fought valiantly and effectively as a Colonel against an invasion of Texas confederates in the beginning (1862) of the Civil War. [Didn’t know about that one, did you?] Unlike some other of his contemporaries, he deserves all the passes and lakes and cities that are named after him. Perhaps the sole black mark on his record were his battles against the Navajos, who were among the fiercest resistors against U.S. and Mexican incursions into their lands. His sad role in The Long Walk, the Navajo version of the Cherokee Trail of Tears, taints his legacy. Despite the fact that he truly believed most of the troubles between Indians and whites were caused by whites and that a reservation was the best protection the Natives could be given, he knew the assigned area could not sustain the population and so contributed directly to the death by disease and starvation of thousands. (They were eventually moved back to an area in their own homeland under the order of none other than William Tecumseh Sherman.) Carson was a good soldier, though, and he actually became, to his embarrassment, a general by the end of his life. I learned a good deal, among other things, about James Polk, for whom I had only the phrase “Manifest Destiny” and knowledge of his preemptive provocation of the Mexican war to hang on his name before this. I like him less now than I did before. Like our history of the western conquest a bit less, too. Blood and Thunder is among the very best pieces of western history I have ever read and a biography of the highest caliber. Pick it up. You won’t put it down till it’s over. Then go visit Santa Fe and Taos. It’s still wild enough there to imagine it happening all around you.
When the Pulitzer for fiction was handed out in 2006, I was adamant it had been given for the wrong book (“March”). “Blood and Thunder” should have had the honor hands down. I was actually angry over this. The clarity of thought and expression in this chronicle goes way beyond your ordinary history of the West. Not just a biography of Kit Carson, though he is used as the fulcrum which balances western expansionism with Native Americans (primarily the Navajo), this is a comprehensive discourse on immorality of Manifest Destiny and the second genocide on this continent by Christian hordes. Yet it is fair—explaining equal arguments for actions incurred. The author gives a great deal of thought and description to the warrior Narbona. In fact he lavishes wonderful character descriptions to all of the Indian leaders. It is, perhaps, this very equanimity in the writing that gives the book such a powerful presence.Before reading “Blood and Thunder” I was a Kit Carsonphobe. I would tell people not to visit his home or grave. I felt the need to enlighten visitors to Santa Fe and Taos on the villainy of the man. I would not take people to Fort Sumner and the Bosque Redondo. I was a bit extreme in my denunciation but I wanted people to know Carson was not the hero of mythmaking pulp novels of the 19th century (known as ‘Blood and Thunder’s’).I’ve tempered my insubordinate spirit on poor Mr. Carson—mostly because of this book. While I still despise the whole concept of Divine Right (xenophobia is what it is), the author’s insight into the political nightmare in Washington after the Civil War helps place a great deal of what happened in perspective.This is much more than an unfathomable story told on an epic scale. The descriptions of the land, the culture of the Dine (Navajo) and the sheer panorama of the New Mexico land where the drama played out is described with passion and exuberance.The author even writes poetically on mundane subjects—for example here is a wonderful little toss off paragraph on bells (which are still BIG deals in Santa Fe):“On the night of September 24, 1846, bells rang over the city, incessantly, crazily, as they always did when something was afoot. From the six churches they clanked and clanged, filling the streets with a maddening metallic din. The Santa Feans loved their bells and used them to announce every occasion—weddings, masses, even races and fandangos. Their sound was far from dulcet, for most of the bells were decrepit and cracked, some having been forged centuries earlier in Castille and shipped by galleon across the wide ocean and then hauled nearly two thousand groaning miles north from Mexico on the desolate wagon road, the Camino Real, which long served as the town’s only umbilicus to the civilized world. Through their long sojourns, the bells had been splashed with brine, dropped in silty arroyos, and pecked by bullets. They had seen revolts and massacres, and had endured several centuries of a steady faith’s ringing in the extremes of a high desert clime. Even though the bells were tarnished and streaked with verdigris, they remained the pride of the town, enduring relics from a time when the crown of Spain reigned as the greatest power on earth.”
Do You like book Blood And Thunder: An Epic Of The American West (2006)?
Don't be put off by the cliched title--this is a surprisingly interesting history of the early Indian Wars in the New Mexico region as well as a good biography of Kit Carson, the Zelig of the Southwest. Told in a brisk and very literate way, with thorough research into the letters and military reports of the participants, the book is a must-read for those interested in Southwestern history and the American push westward.The Mexican War of 1846 (James Polk's invasion of New Mexico) was over quickly, but it was followed by conflicts with the many Indian tribes in the area, particularly the Navajo. A climate of perpetual tribal warfare had ancient origins aimed not at acquiring land but at capturing livestock and slaves, or at revenge for raids by the other tribe. The Utes, Navajos, Mescalero Apaches, Jacilla Apaches, Commanches and others feared and hated each other. The U.S. entry into this boiling pot failed to consolidate the tribes against a common enemy and the U.S. took advantage of the internecine conflicts by, for example, using Utes as scouts on missions against the Navajo. The inability of the various tribes to cooperate was a significant factor in the U. S. success. Another major factor was firepower: bows and arrows and some old rifles couldn't compete with "modern" rifles and howitzers, Add to that the U.S. Army's remarkable duplicity (an example: massacres of Indians just after a treaty was signed) and you know who will lose.An extended period of Indian conflict continued until Custer's last stand in 1876--a thirty-year war--and until his death in 1868 Christopher "Kit" Carson popped up everywhere. An illiterate Missourian, Carson began his career as a trapper until the market for beaver hats gave way to silk. He then morphed into an amazingly astute scout, tracker, and Indian fighter with a remarkable ability to survive against overwhelming odds. Sympathetic to the Indians (his first wife was a Navajo), he nevertheless was an American loyalist who worked for--and became an officer in--the U.S. Army. His courage, his ability to innovate in combat, his integrity, and his ability to communicate with Indians made him an important figure in the Indian Wars. This interweaving of Kit Carson's biography with the larger regional history is spectacularly successful.
—Peter
If you don’t know much about Kit Carson, or his life and times, Hampton Sides’ Blood and Thunder is probably a fine place to start. Carson was one of those rare historical figures whose life would intersect, numerous times, with important moments, and people, in American history. Primarily, Sides focuses on Carson’s role with the whole Manifest Destiny movement, which was initiated by President Polk in the 1840s. Still, this is an enormous chunk of history that literally covers the entire continent. But Sides handles this huge sweep well, supplying numerous mini-biographies on various figures that historians usually don’t spend a lot of time on (such as the often-drunk Confederate General Sibley, or New Mexico Governor Charles Bent). I found these “side trips” wonderful, adding texture to the overall story of Carson’s life. There were a few times when I felt Sides went a little too far in his historical renderings. For example, I found the funeral of Navajo leader Narbona to be a recounting that arises primarily from Sides’ imagination. I have no doubt that Sides captured the ritual correctly, but Sides makes it sound like a first hand accounting, complete with what participants felt and thought. There were also few other bumps along the way. For some reason Sides repeats himself numerous times, giving the impression that the book’s chapters were written independently, and that there was no editorial attempt to smooth out these repetitions. Still, in general this is a very well written book, with some fine descriptive writing that brings dramatic events, colorful people, and beautiful landscapes to life. A great read, from which I learned a lot.
—Steve
Sides depicts an icon of the western frontier, the exploitation of the land and subjugation of Native Americans. Kit Carson’s life follows the frontier’s fortunes, from his early days as a fur trapper to his role leading three Fremont expeditions to his exploits in the Mexican War and his chronicled battles with the Indians. Throughout, Carson’s skills, integrity, loyalty and unerring sixth sense were so prodigious that he seems the stuff of fiction. However, soft spoken standing only 5’4” with a slight build; he belied his characterizations in 19th century dime novels. While it is easy to view Carson willing tool in the slaughter of the Indians, Sides portrays Carson as a proponent of fair treatment who tried to prevent their total destruction.Escaping as a teenager from a bonded apprenticeship in Saint Louis in the 1820’s, Carson became one of the last generation of mountain men, trapping beaver in the unexplored western plains and Rocky Mountains. When the beaver population was depleted, Carson put his knowledge of the country to use as a guide. Serving the Fremont expedition in its trek over the Oregon Trail, he first earned notoriety from the praise of the famous general. While in California his bravery in the fight against Mexico earned him more accolades as he went on to serve General Kearney. He fought for the Union in New Mexico in the Civil War and later led US forces against the Indians most notably defeating the Navajo with a scorched earth policy reminiscent of Sherman that forced them onto reservations. Illiterate, Carson learned to speak fluent French, Spanish and numerous Indian languages. He was a man of immense practical knowledge with a deep appreciation of the land and of its native inhabitants. Carson seems to have been caught up in history as much as he made it. His pragmatism embodied a fatalistic sense of the future of Native Americans who he both fought and admired. Carson acknowledged that the white man initiated the conflict. But he believed that the Indians’ way of life made it impossible for them ever to coexist peacefully with whites. Thus he felt that reservations were the only way they would survive. Race did not matter in Carson’s personal relationships. His first two wives were Indians, his third and last was Mexican. He loved his first wife, Singing Grass, an Arapaho who gave him two children. His second marriage to Making Out Road was short-lived. She divorced him in the Indian way by simply placing all his belongings outside the Teepee. He also loved his third wife, Josefa, from an established Taos family and converted to Catholicism for her. She gave him eight children. Singing Grass and Josefa both died from infections following childbirth. Carson died a month following Josefa’s death and was laid beside her in her still fresh grave.Sides gives us a gritty account of this remarkable man, the transition of the West from unexplored frontier to the white man’s domain and the Indians’ demise. He shows us the abject cruelty that permeated the conflicts. He describes in graphic detail the slavery, torture, brutal killings, wanton destruction of homes and livelihoods practiced by Hispanics, Anglos and Native Americans alike. Sides writes crisply with a smooth flow and flourish that makes this history engaging and his book a fast read. Just be prepared for the sad, disturbing reality.A good prequel to this slice of history is Ambrose’s Undaunted Courage covering the Lewis and Clark expedition showing us the land, mountain men and Indian life before Carson’s time. A good compliment is Gwynne’s Empire of the Summer Moon describing the white man’s conflict with and the demise of the Comanche in a strikingly similar story to that of the Navajo.
—Max
