It is a cold, crisp mourning on Dec.4, 2004, and I am at the very place where Colonel Kit Carson sat astride his horse on Thanksgiving Day 1864. I stand in reverie as Carsons 1864 battle unfolds in my mind. I see the plain of battle in the distance, the red bluffs, the remains of Bents trading post where the doctor set up his hospital, the valley pathway for warriors camped down-river. I imagine silhouettes of a Kiowa picket and, farther over, young warriors taunts ring clear, Come on over here! Soldiers set chase to dust cloud signals the Kiowas are speeding to alert their venerable chief, Dohasan. Women and children scurry off to hide as the charge continues eastward through the Kiowa village. On this hill, I am standing close to where Carson positioned two howitzers. Closing my eyes, I see Comanche reinforcements join the Kiowas as they slow their mounts, turn, and face the New Mexico and California Volunteers. The First Battle of Adobe Walls, 25 November 1864, breaks out before me. Neither side realizes that they are engaged in one of the largest battles between Native American and U.S. Army forces west of the Mississippi River - 335 soldiers pitted against roughly a thousand Kiowas and a sprinkling of Comanches, Apaches, and Arapahos. I marvel that Carson chose winter to engage the Kiowas and Comanches in battle. This little-known battle came to my attention in 1992, while I was researching a contribution to 100 Moore Years: A History of Moore County, Texas . I discovered that a strip of land bisecting the Texas Panhandle along the Canadian river, including Moore County, had been a thoroughfare of activity for Native Americans, Spaniards, Mexican traders, buffalo hunters, California gold seekers, emigrants, and the military. Finding that the famed Kit Carson had traversed the area on his way to fight the Kiowas at Adobe Walls piqued my interest. It seemed unusual that historians had written so little about this battle. I reflected on it often and had to dig deeper, at first frequenting libraries and archives. What began as a curiosity became a mission - to recover and preserve this segment of Texas history. Fueling that undertaking was my disappointment that no other author who had written about Carsons battle at Adobe Walls ever set foot on the trail or the battlefield. Today, I know the movements and strategy of this battle as well; Ive studied every scrap of information and read every book I could find about it. But my certainty that I now stand at the place where the combatants faced off rests on the artifacts recovered from the thousands of acres I have crossed since 1992. Most of these acres lie on 26 ranches whose present owners respect and safeguard what they steward and who permitted me on their lands. As I reminisce about the quest that brought me to Carsons battle site, I realize my good fortune in gaining access to all the land bedding the trail - open range when Casons troops marched across it. More than forty men and women trusted me enough to let me through their gates and became friends in the process of my search. These land-ownersd are the proprietors of the pieces I dug from their sod. A few kept the artifacts, but most entrusted them to me to present to the Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum, where they will be made accessible for research purposes. In field and laboratory, Ive practiced procedures I learned working for professional archeologists, the same techniques I applied on the Red River Project, and ones that I teach as a steward for the Texas Historical Commission. Ive cataloged every find by date, GPS location, field number, and site number; then I cleaned, identified, analyzed, and photographed each piece. More than 1800 items from these ranches fill my notes and my mind. I used the best resources available to me in determining which artifacts belonged to Carsons contingent and which belonged to some other group. The truth is in the artifacts; precious relics that reveal our past. Without these pieces, the story of Casons battle is incomplete. With them, Carsons story takes credible shape. My excitement and reverie begin to wrestle with more mundane recollections of unwrapping history: fatique, aching feet, sore muscles, gnats, the endless sweat of manual labor. But what fulfillment walking that old road has given me. How it never ceases to stir me when I sit down and write about it. And write about it, I must. Whatever mistakes I fail to catch; whatever it may lack, my quest is a story no one else can tell. Alvin R. Lynn
Posted on: Tue, 14 Oct 2014 15:55:19 +0000
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