EXPLORING EXPEDITION ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, FROM THE MISSOURI TO CALIFORNIA. [From the Athenœum May 5.]

New Zealand Spectator and Cook's Strait Guardian, Volume VI, Issue 449, 21 November 1849, Page 3

EXPLORING EXPEDITION ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, FROM THE MISSOURI TO CALIFORNIA. [From the Athenœum May 5.]

Jhe following are letters from Col. Fremopt, — well known a.s kn explorer between the Mississippi sad the Pacific. The Colo-

nel had at length resolved to put an end ta his wanderings, and soberly kettle down w California — noi a> a gold-digger, but a farmer. True, however, to his old vocation, and no doubt with an eye-lo the future, he resolved, whiie his family proceeded thither by the established rotate, ouce again to cross the Rocky Mountains, make a general survey of the tiact connecting the old and new country, [ and beat out a highway for such, of tiis countrymen as were in search of "a. new home; He left the Missouri.on the 21st of October, He reached ibe Uppet, Pueblo, on the Arkansas, all well — and started thence on the 25th of November for the hejtd wdters of the Del Norte, He proposed to cross the rooun^ tains at such pass as he might there , discover — no traveller, we believe, , having, ever-tra-versed the country in that direction* Tfa« immediate scene of the t-ufferings described id the following letters, addressed to his" wife, must have .been in about 38g* north lat. and ..■U?3&w««* longer- - , , Taos, New Mexico, Jan. 2fr, 1849. 1 write to you from the bouse of our friend * Carson. This morning a cup of chocolate was brought t6 roe while in bed. To an overworn, overworked, fatigued, and starving traveller these little luxuries of the world offer aji interest which, in your comfortable home, ! it is not possible for you to conceive, I have now the unpleasant task, of telling you how I came here. I had much rather speak of the future (with plans for which I am already occupied), for the mind turns from the scenes I have witnessed and the sufferings we have endured ; but as clear information if due, to you, and to your father still more, X will give you the story now, instead of waiting to tell it to you in Califqrnia : but I writt in the great hope that you will not receive this letter. When it reaches. Washington you may be on your way to California, Former letters will have made you acquainted with our progress as far as Bent's Ford; and, from report, you will have heard the circumstances of our departure from the Uppet Pueblo, near the head of the Arkansas. We left that place on the 25th November, with upwards of one hundred good mules, and one hundred and thirty bushels of shelled corn, intended to support our animals in the deep snows of, the high mountains a,nd down to the lower parts of the Grand River (a branch of the Coloradoj tributaries, where jusually^tht snow forms no obstacle to winter travelling, At Pueblo I bad engaged as a guide an old trapper well known as "Bill Williams," and who had spent some twenty-five years of his life in trapping in various parts, of the Rocky Mountains. The error of our expedition was committed iv engaging this man. He proved never to have known, or entirely to have forgotten, the whole country through which we were to pass. We occupied (after passing the mountain) more than half a month in making the progress of a few days, blundering along a tortuous course, through deep snow which already began to choke up the passes, and wasting our time in searching the way. The 11th of December we found ourselves at the mouth of the Rio del Norte canon, where that rivetissues from the Sierra San Juan — one of thehighest, most rugged, and impracticable of all the Rocky Mountain ranges, inaccessible ta trappers and banters even in summer. Across the point of this elevated range our guide, conducted us ; and having still great confidence in this man's knowledge, we press.cd onwards with fatal resolution. Even along the river bottoms the snow was already breast deep foj the mules, and filling frequently in, the valley and almost constantly on the moantains. The cold was extraordinary. At thft two warmest hours of the day (between on* and two) the thermometer (Fahrenheit) stood, in the shade qf a; tree trunk, at zero ; and that was a favourable day, ' the sun shining and t moderate breeze. Judge of the nights qudj the storms ! " We pressed up towards the snirimit, thft snow deepeni -g qs we rose; and in four t)r five days of this struggling and climbing, all on foot, we reached the naked ridges which lie above the line of the timbered region, and which form 1 the dividing, heights between thft waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Along these naked heights it storm's all witfter,? and the raging winds sweep acfoss. them with remorseless fury< On our first attempt to cross, we encountered a /.gudttpie-^dry snow driven thick through the air by violent wind, pud in' which objects are-visible only at a short distance) — and were driven back, having some ten or twelve m.en variously frozen, — face, hands,- or feet. The guide came near being froasn to death here^ and dead mules were already lying about' the camp fires 1 . Meantime it snowed steadily. The next day (December — ) we renewed the attempt to, scale the summit, a.\id were more fortunate, as it then seemed. Making mauls, andbeat- | ing down a road, or trench, through the deep 1 i snow, we forced the ascent in spite of-tbe driving puuderie, crossed the crest, descended; %

little, and encamped immediately below in the edge of the timberedregion. The trail showed as if a defeated party had passed by — pack, pack-saddles,' scattered articles of clothing and dead mules strewed along. We were encamped about twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea. Westward, the country was buried in' snow. The storm continued. All movement was paralyzed. To advance with the expedition was impossible : to get back, impossible. Our fate stood revealed. We were overtaken by sudden and inevitable ruin. The poor animals were to go first* The only places where grass could be had were the extreme summits of the Sierra, where the sweeping winds kept the rocky ground bare, and wheTe the men could not live. Below, ! in the Umbered region* the poor animals could wot get about, the snow being deep enough to | bury them alive. It was instantly apparenc that we should lose every one. I took ray resolution immediately, and determined to recross the mountain back to the valley of the Rio del Norte, dragging, or packing, the baggage by men. With great labour the baggage was transported across the crest to the head springs of a little stream leading to the main ' river. A few days were sufficient to destroy that fine band of mules which you saw me •purchase last fall on the frontier of Missouri. They generally kept huddled together ; and, as they froze, one would be seen to tumble down, and disappear under the driving snow. Sometimes they would break off, and rush down towards the river till stopped by the deep snow, where they were soon hidden by the pouderie. The courage of some of the men began to fail. In this situation, I determined to send in a party to the Spanish settlements of New Mexico for provisions, and for mules ti transport 'our baggage. With economy, and after we should le&ve the mules, we had not two weeks' provisions in the camp; and these consisted of a reserve of maccaroni, bacon, sugar, &c.,, intended for the last extremity. It was indispensable to send for relief. I asked for volunteers for the service. From the many that offered, I chose King, Brackenridge, Creutzfeldt, and the guide, Williams ; and placed the party under the command of King, with directions to send me an express in case of the least delay at the settlements. It was the day after Christmas that this little party set out for relief. That day, like many Christmas days, was spent by me on the side of the wintry mountain, my heait filled with anxious thoughts and gloomy forebodings. You may be sure we contrasted it with the Christmas at home, and made warm wishes for your happiness. Could' you have looked into Agrippa's glass for a few moments only ! You remember the volumes of Blackstone's Commentaries which I took from your father's library when we were overlooking it at our friend Brant's. They made my Christmas ' amusements.' I read them to pass the the time, and to kill the consciousness of my situation. Certainly you may well suppose that my first law lessons will be well remembered. The party for relief being gone, we of the camp occupied ourselves in removing the baggage and equipage down the side of the mountain to the river in the valley, which we accomplished in a few days. Now came on the tedium of waiting for the return of the relief party. Day after day passed, and no news from them. Snow fell almost incessantly in the mountains. The spirits of the camp grew lower. Life was losing its charm to those who bad not reasons beyond themselves to live Proulx laid down in the trail and froze to death. In a sunshine day, and having with him the means to make a fire, he threw bis blanket on the trail, laid down upon it, and laid there till he froze to death ! We were not then with him. Sixteen days passed away, and no tiJings from the party sent for relief. I became oppressed with anxiety, weary of delay, and determined to go myself, both iii search o\ the absent yarty, and in search of relief in the Mexican seftlements. I was aware that our troops in New Mexico had been engaged in hostilities with the Spanish Utahs, and with the Apaches, who range in the valley of the Rio del Norte and the mountains where we were, and became fearful that they (King and his party) had been cut off by these Indians. I could imagine no other" accident to them. Leaving the camp employed with the baggage, under the command of Vincent Haler, with injunctions to -follow vie in three days, I set off down the river with a small party, consisting ofGodey, his young nephew, Preuss, and Saunders (coloured servant). We carried our arms, and provisions for two or three days. In the camp they only had provisions for a few meals, and a supply of five pounds of sugar to each man. If I failed to meet King, my intention was to make the Mexican settlement on a little affluent oi the Rio del Norte, about half a degree above Taos (you will see it on my map) and tbence send back the speediest relief possible to the party under Vincent Haler.

On the second day after leaving the camp we came upon a fresh trail of Indians — two lodges with a considerable number of animals. This did not lessen our uneasiness for our long-absent people, The Indian trail, where we fell upon it, turned and went down the river, and we followed it. On the fifth day (after leaving the camp) we surprised an Indian on the ice of the river. He proved to be a Utah, son of a grand river chief whom we had formerly known, and he behaved towards us in a friendly mauner. We encamped near them at night, By a present of a rifle, my two blankets, and other promised rewards when we should get in, 1 prevailed on this Indian to go with us as a guide 10 the settlement, and to take with him four of his horses to carry our little baggage.' The horses were miserably poor, and could only get along at a slow walk. On the next day (the sixth of our progress) we left the Indian lodges late, and travelled only some six or seven miles. About sunset we discovered a little smoke, in a grove of timber, off from the river, and thinking perhaps it might be our express party, (King and his men) on their return, we went to see. This was the twenty-second day since the parly had left us, and the sixth since we had left the camp under Vincent Haler, We found them — three of them : Creutzfeldt, Brackenbridge, and Williams — the most miserable objects I had ever beheld. I did not recognizeCreutzfeldt's features when Brackenbridge brought him up and told me his name. They had been starving. King had starved to death a few days before. His remains were some six or eight miles above, near the river. By aid of the Indian horses we carried these three with us down to the valley, to the Pueblo, which we reached the fourth day afterwards (the tenth after leaving the camp on the mountains) having travelled through snow and on foot, 160 miles. I look upon the feeling which induced me to set out from the camp as an inspiration. Had I remained there, waiting the return of poor King's party, every man of us must have perished. The morning after reaching the Pueblo" (horses and supplies not being there) Godey and I rode on to the Rio Hondo, and thence to Taos, about twenty-five miles, where we found what we needed ; and the next morning Godey, with four Mexicans, thirty horses or mules, and provisions, sat out on his return to the relief of Vincent Haler's party. On the way he received an accession of eight pr ten horses, turned over to him by the orders of the commanding officer of this northern district of New Mexico. From him I received the offer of every aid in his power, and such actual assistance as he was able to render. I remain here, while Godey goes back ; because it was necessary for me to prepare the means of resuming the expedition as soon as he returns with the men left behind. I expect him on Wednesday evening, the 31st instant, this being the 17th, Monday, January 29. No news from Godey. A great deal of falling weather ; rain and sleet here ; snow in the mountains. I am anxiously waiting to hear from my party, and in much uneasiness as to their fate. My presence kept them together and quiet ; my absence may have had a bad effect. When we overtook King's famishing party, Brackeubridge said to me " He felt'himself safe," Taos, New Mexico, Feb. 6, 1849. After a long delay, which had wearied me to the point of resolving to set out again myself, tidings have at last reached me from my ill-fated party. Mr. Haler came in last night, having the night before reached the settlement, with three or four others. Including Mr. King and Mr. Proulx, we have lost eleven of our party. Occurrences since I left them are briefly these, so far as they came within the knowledge of Mr. Haler ; I say briefly, because I am now unwilling to force my mind to dwell upon the details of what has been suffered. I need reprieve from terrible contemplations. I am absolutely astonished at this persistence of misfortune — this succession of calamities which no care or vigilance of mine could foresee or prevent. You will remember that I had left the camp (twenty-three men) when I set off with Godey, Preuss, and my servant, in search of succour, with directions about the baggage, and with occupation about it sufficient to employ them three or four days ; after which, they were to follow me down the river. Within that time I expected relief from King's party, if it came at all. They remained seven days, and then started, their scant provisions about exhausted and the dead mules on the western side of the great Sierra buried under snow. Manuel, a Christian Indian, of the Cosurane tribe, gave way to a feeling of despair after they had moved about two miles, and begged Vincent Haler, wnom I had left in command, to shoot him. Failing to find death in that form, he turned and made his way

back to the camp, intending to die there, which he doubtless soon did. The party moved on, and at ten miles. Wise gave out — threw away bis gun and blanket — and, a few huuilred yards further, fell over into the snow. Two Indian boys — country' men of Manuel were behind, They came upon him, rolled him up in his blanket, and buried him in ihe snow, ou the bank of the river. No other died that day. None the next. Carver raved during the night — his imagination wholly occupied with images of many things which he fancied himself to be eating. In the morning he wandered off, and probably soon died. He was not seen again. Sorel on this day (the fourth from the camp,) laid dpwn to die. They built him a fire, aud Morin, who was in a dying condition, and snow-blind, remained with him. • These two did not probably last till the next morning. That evening (I think it was) Hubbard killled a deer. They travelled on, getting here and there a grouse, but -nothing else, the deep snow in the valley having driven off the game. The state of the party became desparate,and brought Haler to the determination of breaking it up, in order to prevent them from living upon each other. He told them that he had done all he could for them — that they had no other hope remaining than the expected relief and that the best plan was to scatter, and make their way, each as he could, down the river ; that, for himself, if he was to be eaten, he would at all events, be found travelling when he did die. This address had its effect. They accordingly separated. With Haler continued five others — Scott, Hubbard, Martin, Bacon, one other, and the two Consumne Indian boys. Rohrer now became despondent, and Haler reminded him of his family, and urged him to try and hold out for their sake. Roused by this appeal to bis tenderest affections, the unfortunate man moved forward, but feebly, and soon began to fall behind. On a farther appeal he promised to follow, and to overtake them at evening. Haler, Scott, Hubbard, and Martin, now agreed that if any of them should give out, the others were not to wait for him to die, but to push on, and try and save themselves. At night, Kerne's party encamped a few hundred yards from Haler's, with the intention, accordiug to Taplin, to remain where they were until the relief should come, and in the'mean time live upon those who had died, and upon the weaker ones as they should die. With this party where the three brothers Kerne, Capt. Cathcart, M'Kie, Andrews, Stepperfeldt, and Taplin. 1 do not know that I have got all the names of this party. Ferguson and Bearle had remained together behind. In the evening Rohrer came up and remained in Kearne's party. Haler learnt afterwards from some oi the parly Rohrer and Andrews wandered off next morning and died. They say they saw their bodies. Haler's party continued on. After a few hours Hubbard gave out. According to the agreement he was left to die, but with such comfort as could be given him. They built him a fire and gathered him some wood, and then left him — without turning their heads, as Haler says, to look at him as they went off. About two miles further, Scott — you remember him ; be used to shoot birds for you on the frontier — he gave out. He was another of the four who had covenanted against waiting for each other. The survivors did for him as they had done for Hubbard, and passed on. In the afternoon the two Indian boys went ahead — blessed be these boys ' — and before night- fall met Godey with the relief. He had gone on with all speed. The boys gave him the news. He fired signal guns to notify Jris approach. Haler heard the guns, and knew the crack of their rifles, and felt that relief had come. This night was the first of hope and joy. Early in the morning, with the first grey light, Godey was in the trail, and soon met Haler, and the wreck of his party slowly advancing. I hear they all cried together like children — these men of iron nerves and lion hearts when dangers were to be faced or hardships to be conquered. They were all children in this moment of melted hearts. Succour was soon dealt out to these few first met ; and Godey with his relief, and accompanied by Haler, who turned back, hurriedly followed the back trail in search of the living and the dead, scattered in the rear k They came to Scott first. He was yet alive, and is saved. They came to Hubbard next ; he was dead, but still warm. These were the only ones of Haler's parly that had been left. " , , From Kerne's party, next met, they learnt the deaths of Andrews and Rohrer ; and a little further on, met Fergusson, who told them that Beadle died the night before. All the living were found — and saved — Manuel among them — which looked like a resurrection — and reduces the number of the dead to ten

— one third.of. the whole party, which, a few days before were scaling the mountain .with me, and battling with the elements twelve thousand feet. in the air. Godey had accomplished his mission for the people : a further service had been prescribed him; that of going to the camp on the river, at the fyase of the great mountain, to recover, the mqst valuable of she baggage secreted there. With some Mexicans and pack mules he went ou ; and this, is the lastjet heard of him. Vincent Haler, with Martin and Bacon, all on foot, and bringing Scott on horseback, have just arrived at the outside Pueblo. Provisions for their support, and horses for their transport, were' left for the others, who preferred to remain where they were, regaining some strength, till Godey should get back. At the latest, they would have reached the little Pueblo last night. Haler came on to relieve my anxieties, and did well in so doing ; for I was wound up to the point of setting out again. When Godey returns, I, shall know from him all the circumstances sufficiently in detail to understand clearly Everything. But it will not be necessary to tell you anything further. You have the results, and sorrow enough in reading them.

Evening. — How rapid are the changes of life ! A few days ago, and I was struggling through snow in the savage wilds of the .Upper del Norte — following the course of the frozen river in more than Russian cold — no food — no blanket to cover me in the long freezing nights — (I had sold my two to the Utah for help to ray men) — uncertain at what moment of the night we might be roused by the Indian rifle — doubtful, very doubtful, whether I should ever see you or friends again. Now, I am seated by a comfortable fire, alone — pursuing my owti thoughts — writing to you in the certainty of reaching yon — a French volume of De Balzac on the table — a coloured print of the landing of Columbus before me — listening in safety to the raging storm without. x You will wish to know what effect the scenes I have passed through have had upon me. In person, none. The destruction of ray par'y, and the loss of friends, are causes of grief ; but I have nol been injured in body or mind. Both have been strained, and severely taxed, but neither hurt. I have seen one or the other, and sometimes both, give way in strong frames, strong minds, and stout hearts ; but, as heretofore, I have come out unhurt. I believe that the remembrance of friends sometimes gives us a power of resistance which the desire to save our own lives could never call up. I have made ray preparatipns to proceed. I shall have to follow the old Gjla xoad, aud shall move rapidly and expect to be in California in March, and to find letters from borne, and a supply of newspapers and documents, more welcome perhaps, because these things have a home look sdouc them. The future occupies me ; our home in California — your arrival in April — your good health in that delightful climate — the finishing up of my geographical and astronomical labours —my farming labours and enjoyments. Your arrival in April will complete all the plans. February 11. Godey has got back. He did not succeed in recovering any of the baggage or camp furniture. Everything was lost, except some few things which I had brought down to the river. The depth of snow made it impossible for him to reach the camp at the mountain where the men had left the baggage. Amidst the wreck, I had the good fortune to save my large alforgas, or travelling trunk — the double one vi bich you paeked — and that was about all. Santa Fe, Feb. 17, 1849. la the midst of hurried movements, and in I the difficult endeavour to get a party all started together, I can only say that I am well, and moving on to California. I will leave Santa Fe this evening. I have received here from the officers every civility and attention in their power, and have been assisted in my outfit as far as it was possible for them to do. I dined this evening with the Governor (Colonel Washington) before I follow my patty. A Spanish gentleman has been engaged to go to Albuquerque and purchase mules for me. From that place ! we go on my own animals, and expect no detention, as we follow the old Gila route, so long known, and presenting nothing new to stop for. "