Reading his autobiography, THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF JAMES P. BECKWOURTH, MOUNTAINEER, SCOUT, PIONEER, AND CHIEF OF THE CROW NATION OF INDIANS (as told to Thomas D. Bonner) (1855), I gasp from wonder to wonder in delighted ecstasy.
James PIerson Beckwourth was a legendary black man, the third child of thirteen, whose enslaved, mulatto mother, his upper class white father, and their children , had emigrated from Fredrickburg, Virginia, to live in Missouri, north of St. Louis, near St. Charles, on a farm, where the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers meet, in the early 1800s, before its 1821 statehood.
I have read one-half of this spine-tingling, adventure-laden epic of the exploration and settlement of United States of America's "West" and had found the book to be as perfectly plausible, as having truly occurred as it was written; that is, before I came upon this portion :
"Our stock of horses being greatly diminished, we deemed this a fitting time to try and replenish it, and various small parties sallied out for that purpose. I left with only seventeen warriors for the country of the Arrap-a-hos, situated on the headwaters of the Arkansas. On arriving at their village we found a great number of horses, upon which we made descent; but we were discovered before we could lay our hands on any, and had to scatter in all directions in our effort to escape . One of our party had his leg broken with a rifle ball, but the did not fall into the enemy's hands, as he crawled away and secreted himself . Two months subsequently he found his way home , with his leg nearly healed. He stated that, after receiving his wound, he plunged into the river, which flowed close by, and swam to an island, there concealing himself in a thick brush . The enemy moved away the next day, and he swam back to their camping ground, where he found an abundance of meat , which he carried over to his quarters; upon this he fared sumptuously until he was strong enough to walk ; then he made his way home."
P. 325-336.
Tuesday, October 9, 2018
BECKWOURTH
Reading his autobiography, THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF JAMES P. BECKWOURTH, MOUNTAINEER, SCOUT, PIONEER, AND CHIEF OF THE CROW NATION OF INDIANS (as told to Thomas D. Bonner) (1855), I gasp from wonder to wonder in delighted ecstasy.
James PIerson Beckwourth was a legendary black man, the third child of thirteen, whose enslaved, mulatto mother, his upper class white father, and their children , had emigrated from Fredrickburg, Virginia, to live in Missouri, north of St. Louis, near St. Charles, on a farm, where the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers meet, in the early 1800s, before its 1821 statehood.
I have read one-half of this spine-tingling, adventure-laden epic of the exploration and settlement of United States of America's "West" and had found the book to be as perfectly plausible, as having truly occurred as it was written; that is, before I came upon this portion :
"Our stock of horses being greatly diminished, we deemed this a fitting time to try and replenish it, and various small parties sallied out for that purpose. I left with only seventeen warriors for the country of the Arrap-a-hos, situated on the headwaters of the Arkansas. On arriving at their village we found a great number of horses, upon which we made descent; but we were discovered before we could lay our hands on any, and had to scatter in all directions in our effort to escape . One of our party had his leg broken with a rifle ball, but the did not fall into the enemy's hands, as he crawled away and secreted himself . Two months subsequently he found his way home , with his leg nearly healed. He stated that, after receiving his wound, he plunged into the river, which flowed close by, and swam to an island, there concealing himself in a thick brush . The enemy moved away the next day, and he swam back to their camping ground, where he found an abundance of meat , which he carried over to his quarters; upon this he fared sumptuously until he was strong enough to walk ; then he made his way home."
P. 325-336.