Grayson County TXGenWeb

John Baptiste Carlat

ESCAPE FROM THE COMANCHES

The Sunday Gazetteer
Sunday, July 6, 1902
pg. 2

John Baptiste Carlat, who passed away a few weeks ago, related to the writer the following particulars of his escape from the Comanches, who held him a prisoner for a period of two years. At that time Carlat was a young man, and the Indians did not torture their captives, as the white man had not as yet trespassed on their lands. The white settlements in Texas were very scattered, and did not number perhaps all told 2000 souls.
The Indians confined their depredations to stealing horses, and frequently pushed their incursions almost to the border of Louisiana on the east.
Mr. Carlat was carried to the Ft. Sill country, but no frontier post had as yet been established there. The Comanches treated Mr. Carlat very kindly and he was frequently a member of their hunting parties. They had as captives three white women but for some reason he was not permitted to hold any intercourse with them. On day a war party arrived from the border of Mexico with several white Mexican women. A hacienda had been raided, the men killed and the women carried into captivity. On the points of their spears the warriors carried the blood-reeking scalps. That night a large fire was built and the braves dance with fiendish glee around the ghastly trophies which were suspended from the tops of poles. All night pandemonium reigned; the din was terrible. Many of the dancers yelped like wolves, bellowed like buffalo, and screamed like owls. The Mexican captives were obliged to witness the horrible orgies that commemorated the massacre of perhaps a husband, brother or dear friend. The next day there was a great feast on buffalo.
Mr. Carlat stated that he saw in the Canadian country and along the old Santa Fe trail millions of buffalo. The earth trembled beneath....(page torn)
It was not an unpleasant life that he lead among the Comanches. A Frenchman can adapt himself to circumstances better than any nationality that we know of. In almost every tribe on the American continent the Courier de Boise or Canadian French could be found. Frances Parkman, the most delightful historian of colonial and frontier life, and who lived with the Dakotas for two years, says that the French trader looked and acted so much like the Indian that it was hard to draw the line.
The chiefs wanted Mr. Carlat to take unto himself an Indian wife, and to become a member of the tribe. He humored them, but his purpose was to escape at the most favorable opportunity. It came at last. One evening just at dusk he saw away in the distance what looked like a white streak creeping over the green prairie. There was a large river that had to be crossed, and the spring...had filled it bank full. The die was cast, and he determined to escape if it cost him his life. He selected the best horse in the Indian encampment for the enterprise, and while the camp was wrapped in slumber and there was an incessant barking of Indian dogs, Mr. Carlat stole forth into the shadow of the night. Guided by the stars, he directed his course to the river. It was a hard and furious ride. At last the bank was reached, and Mr. Carlat gave his horse a free rein and plunged in. The current was strong, the river wide, and it looked for a time as though the rider would never reach the opposite friendly bank. The horse was carried down with the current for nearly a mile before a landing was effected. About daylight he reached the camp of a large party of U.S. dragoons [mounted soldiers], who had come down through Kansas and were heading for the Santa Fe trail, their destination being Taos, New Mexico.

(source: rootsweb.com Photographic Archives of the Santa Fe Trail)

Mr. Carlat was confident that his Indian friends would never attempt to swim the river in pursuit, and he never saw them anymore. It was on this trip that he first met the celebrated frontiersman Kit Carson, who was a scout for the dragoons. When Carlat rode into the camp of the soldiers, they had no idea he was a white man. They thought he was a full fledged Comanche warrior. That was his first introduction to the life and vissitudes of a scout. In after years he became one of the most famous of them.

The Sunday Gazetteer
Sunday, July 13, 1902
pg. 2

CARLAT AND GRANT
When Grant was unknown to fame and used to haul cord-wood to St. Louis for a livelihood, the late Mr. Carlat, who died in this city last week [sic], met him frequently. The Carlat farm and Dent farm joined, and consequently they became quite intimate.
In those days, there was nothing to indicate the greatness that lay dormant in Grant. He was as common a man as was seen on the streets of St. Louis. He was fond of his dram and probably went home many a time feeling a little worse for his liquor.
Mr. Carlat was a convivial spirit, and there was a mutual feeling between him and Grant. They have stood at the bar many a time sipping their toddy and comparing notes. There was a public square for wood haulers, and Grant would tie up at the rack and stand by his horses waiting for a customer. Some times the customer would never come and Grant would haul his wood back home. He tucked his pants into his boots, and carried a buckskin whip. Mr. Carlat said that Grant was a very pleasant and agreeable man and capable of telling a good story.
Mr. Carlat sold out and moved away, and that was the last that he ever saw of the great general, who commanded over two millions of men and was twice president of the United States, and received in pomp and state by every crowned head in Europe.
Mr. Carlat used to often think of the old days passed with Grant in St. Louis. He little dreamed that he was touching elbows with a man who will go down to history as "the man of destiny."
Grant never forgot his old friends; he delighted to entertain them, and never hesitated to do something for them if they needed an office. For this he was roundly reprimanded. His confidence was frequently abused. This is illustrated in the St. Louis whisky ring with Babock at the head. Under the guise of an old friendship they dragged Grant's name down with them.
The fact that Grant and Carlat served in the same army and under the same general in the Mexican war naturally produced a lasting friendship, although Carlat never asked anything at the hands of Grant.

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