Page:All the Year Round - Series 2 - Volume 1.djvu/478

468[April 17, 1869]

They used to say at the "Barley Mow"

That Bony was going to pass the plough

Clean over every palace top,

And clear the ground for another crop.

But the volks say this and the volks say that,

And one never knows what some chaps are at;

For, by and by, at Waterloo,

We took Nap in spite of his blustering crew.

I mind the time, for the day before

I, Jack Ward, and old Tom Shore

Fought the keepers by Burnt Wood Ride,

And the old squire's son got shot in the zide.

They named me Blucher for that same fight,

For I came up just at the fust twilight,

And went in at 'em hot and fast,

And stayed there, too, till the danger past.

Ah, they was times, and the beer was good

That we drank that night in Thorley Wood;—

But the cowards came with five more men,

Or we'd beaten the whole lot back again.

Our Waterloo I called it first,

Fair up and down, till we got the worst;

I only wish I were forty now,

And we had 'em again on Breakback Brow.

Ah! the turmots, they never looked so well

As the day I came from jail, and fell

Half giddy, there by Charford-hill,

And felt I wasn't a prisoner still.

One hundred and twelve last Lammas fair;

O yes, I live in the workhouse there;

But I don't get enough of the open lands,

And I've got the palsy in both my hands.

I'm deaf, and I'm lame from a vall I had;

Well, I've lived my life, and I'm not a lad;

This churchyard here is a quiet lot—

So I've just come out to choose a spot.

NATIVE TRIBES OF NEW MEXICO.

IN THREE CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I.

was separated from New Mexico in 1863; it is desirable, however, for the present purpose, to consider both territories as a whole under the old name.

Four distinct races are now encountered by the traveller in New Mexico. These are:

The semi-civilised native races and their natural enemies require to be treated of separately. The Pueblo, or town Indians, are the most remarkable and important tribe to be found in any part of the United States or Canada; they are, in fact, the only native race whose presence on the soil is not more of a curse than anything else.

Whilst on the plains, whatever belief we had in the nobility of the redskin, or the cruelty of the frontier man, quickly vanished, and we learnt to regard the Indian of the plains as the embodiment of all that was cruel, dastardly, and degrading. We were not long, however, in the Rio Grande valley before we encountered a new race, as different from our old enemies as light from darkness.

I first met a small party of these people on the plain a few miles west of the Pecos; they were neatly dressed in buckskin shirt and breeches, which latter fitted tightly to their legs; they wore moccasins on their feet and a girdle around their waist. Their heads were bare, their hair black, and cut square in front almost to the eyebrows, but gathered up behind into a queue, and bound round with red cord, a narrow band also passed over the hair in front and was fastened underneath. They were short in stature, thickly built, with quiet intelligent faces and large sorrowful eyes. I have never, during my residence in their valley, seen a Pueblo Indian laugh; I do not remember even a smile. They carried no arms that we could discover, but each pushed before him a little hand-cart composed of a body of wicker-work on wooden wheels, filled with grapes, the produce of their vineyards. They were on their way to Las Vegas, and seemed so sure of a good market, that we had to pay ten dollars for a large basket of grapes weighing from fifty to eighty pounds. At Santa Fé I watched these people coming and going, bringing their produce in the morning—peaches, grapes, onions, beans, melons, and hay for sale, then buying what necessaries they wanted, and trudging off in the afternoon quietly and modestly to their country villages. I looked on them with pity, and wondered what they thought of this new state of things, and how they liked the intruders whose presence they bore so meekly. I met Mr. Ward, their agent, who treats them as the kindest father would his children, and often went to his house, where Indian parties from a distance were sure to resort for information and advice. When I left Santa Fé I passed through many of their villages, saw them in their house, visited their fields and vineyards, and watched them as they assembled on their housetops at sunrise to look for the coming of Montezuma from the east.

The semi-civilised Indian of the United States is only to be found in New Mexico and Arizona, south of the thirty-sixth parallel of latitude, nor is there any proof whatever but some vague traditions to show