Early Western Travels
1748-1846
Volume XX

Indian alarm on the Cimarron River

Early Western Travels
1748-1846

A Series of Annotated Reprints of some of the best and
rarest contemporary volumes of travel, descriptive
of the Aborigines and Social and Economic
Conditions in the Middle and Far West,
during the Period of Early
American Settlement

Edited with Notes, Introductions, Index, etc., by

Reuben Gold Thwaites, LL. D.

Editor of "The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents",
"Original Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition",
"Hennepin's New Discovery," etc.

Volume XX

Part II of Gregg's Commerce of the Prairies, 1831-1839

Cleveland, Ohio

The Arthur H. Clark Company

1905

THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY

The Lakeside Press
R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY
CHICAGO

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XX

Commerce of the Prairies; or, The Journal of a Santa Fé Trader, during Eight Expeditions across the Great Western Prairies, and a Residence of nearly Nine Years in Northern Mexico. (Part II: Chapters xii-xvi of Volume I, and all of Volume II of original.) Josiah Gregg.
[Author's Table of Contents]	13
[Text of Part II]:	21

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME XX

"[Indian Alarm on the Cimarron River]"	Frontispiece
"[Map of the Interior of Northern Mexico]"	Facing	21
[Medal of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de Mexico] (text cut)	40
"[Camp Comanche]"	123
[Mule emerging from a mine;][Still Hunting] (text cuts in original)	181
"'[Dog Town],' or Settlement of Prairie Dogs"	279

Part II of Gregg's Commerce of the Prairies, or The Journal of a Santa Fé Trader——1831-1839

Reprint of chapters xii-xvi of Volume I, and all of Volume II of the second edition: New York, 1845

[CHAPTER XII]

Government of New Mexico — The Administration of Justice — Judicial Corruption — Prejudices against Americans — Partiality for the English — Anecdote of Governor Armijo and a Trapper — Outrage upon an American Physician — Violence suffered by the American Consul and others — Arbitrary Impositions upon Foreigners — Contribucion de Guerra — The Alcaldes and their System — The Fueros — Mode of punishing Delinquents and Criminals — Mexican System of Slavery — Thieves and Thieveries Outrage upon an American Merchant — Gambling and Gambling-houses — Game of Monte — Anecdote of a Lady of Fashion — Chuza — Cockpits — Correr el gallo — El Coleo — Fandangoes — Cigarritos,

[CHAPTER XIII]

Military Hierarchy of Mexico — Religious Superstitions — Legend of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe — A profane Version of the Story — A curious Plan for manufacturing Water — Saints and Images — Processions — How to make it Rain — The Sacred Host — Fanaticism and Murder — Honors paid to a Bishop — Servility to Priests — Attendance at Public Worship — New Mexicans in Church — The Vesper Bells — Passion Week and the Ceremonies pertaining thereto — Ridiculous Penitencia — Whitewashing of Criminals — Matrimonial Connexions and Mode of Contracting them — Restrictions upon Lovers — Onerous Fees paid for Marriages and Burials — Anecdote of a Ranchero — Ditto of a Servant and of a Widow, illustrative of Priestly Extortion — Modes of Burial, and Burial Ground of the Heretics,

[CHAPTER XIV]

The Pueblos — Their Character for Sobriety, Honesty, and Industry — Traditional descent from Montezuma — Their Languages — Former and present Population — The Pueblo of Pecos — Singular Habits of that ill-fated Tribe — Curious Tradition — Montezuma and the Sun — Legend of a Serpent — Religion and government — Secret Council — Laws and Customs — Excellent Provisions against Demoralization — Primitive Pastimes of the Pueblos — Their Architecture — Singular Structures of Taos, and other novel Fortifications — Primitive state of the Arts among the Pueblos — Style of Dress, Weapons, etc. — Their Diet — The Guayave,

{xvi} [CHAPTER XV]

The wild Tribes of New Mexico — Speculative Theories — Clavigero and the Azteques — Pueblo Bonito and other Ruins — Probable Relationship between the Azteques and Tribes of New Mexico — The several Nations of this Province — Navajóes and Azteques — Manufactures of the former — Their Agriculture, Religion, etc. — Mexican Cruelty to the Indians and its Consequences — Inroads of the Navajóes — Exploits of a Mexican Army — How to make a Hole in a powder-keg — The Apaches and their character — Their Food — Novel Mode of settling Disputes — Range of their marauding Excursions — Indian Traffic and imbecile Treaties — Devastation of the Country — Chihuahua Rodomontades — Juan José, a celebrated Apache Chief, and his tragical End, etc. — Massacre of Americans in Retaliation — A tragical Episode — Proyecto de Guerra and a 'gallant' Display — The Yutas and their Hostilities — A personal Adventure with them, but no Bloodshed — The Jicarillas,

[CHAPTER XVI]

Incidents of a Return Trip from Santa Fé — Calibre of our Party — Return Caravans — Remittances — Death of Mr. Langham — Burial in the Desert — A sudden Attack — Confusion in the Camp — The Pawnees — A Wolfish Escort — Scarcity of Buffalo — Unprofitable Delusion — Arrival — Table of Camping Sites and Distances — Condition of the Town of Independence — The Mormons — Their Dishonesty and Immorality — Their high-handed Measures, and a Rising of the People — A fatal Skirmish — A chivalrous Parade of the Citizens — Expulsion of the Mormons — The Meteoric Shower, and Superstition, etc. — Wanderings and Improprieties of the 'Latter-day Saints' — Gov. Boggs' Recipe — The City of Nauvoo — Contemplated Retribution of the Mormons,

[CHAPTER XVII] {I of Vol. II, original ed.}

A Return to Prairie Life — Abandonment of the regular Route — The Start — A Suicide — Arrest of a Mulatto for Debt — Cherokee 'Bankrupt Law' — Chuly, the Creek Indian — The Muster and the Introduction — An 'Olla Podrida' — Adventure of a 'Down-Easter' — Arrival of U. S. Dragoons — Camp Holmes, and the Road — A Visit from a Party of Comanches — Tabba-quena, a noted Chief — His extraordinary Geographical Talent — Indians set out for the 'Capitan Grande,' and we through an unexplored Region — Rejoined by Tabba-quena and his 'suite' — Spring Valley — The Buffalo Fever — The Chase — A Green-horn Scamper — Prairie Fuel,

[CHAPTER XVIII] {II of Vol. II}

Travelling out of our Latitude — The Buffalo-gnat — A Kiawa and Squaw — Indian crim. con. Affair — Extraordinary Mark of confidence in the White Man — A Conflagration — An Espy Shower — Region of Gypsum — Our Latitude — A Lilliputian Forest — A Party of Comanches — A Visit to a 'Dog-Town' — Indian Archery — Arrival of Comanche Warriors — A 'Big Talk' and its Results — Speech of the Capitan Mayor — Project of bringing Comanche Chiefs to Washington — Return of Lieut. Bowman, and our March resumed — Melancholy Reflections — Another Indian Visit — Mexican Captives — Voluntary Captivity — A sprightly Mexican Lad — Purchase of a Captive — Comanche Trade and Etiquette — Indians least dangerous to such as trade with them,

114

[CHAPTER XIX] {III of Vol. II}

Ponds and Buffalo Wallows — Valley of the Canadian, and romantic Freaks of Nature — Formation of Ravines — Melancholy Adventure of a Party of Traders in 1832 — Fears of our being lost — Arrival of a Party of Comancheros, and their wonderful Stories — Their Peculiarities and Traffic — Bitter Water, and the Salitre of New Mexico — Avant-couriers for Santa Fé — Patent Fire-arms and their Virtues — Ranchero Ideas of Distance, and their Mode of giving Directions — The Angostura, and erroneous Notions of the Texans — A new Route revealed — Solitary Travel — Supply of Provisions sent back — Arrival at Santa Fé — Gov. Armijo, etc. — A 'Flare-up' with His Excellency,

132

[CHAPTER XX] {IV of Vol. II}

Preparations for a Start to Chihuahua — Ineptness of Married Men for the Santa Fé Trade — Annoying Custom-house Regulations — Mails in New Mexico — Insecurity of Correspondence — Outfit and Departure — Derecho de Consumo — Ruins of Valverde — 'Towns without Houses' — La Jornado del Muerto — Laguna and Ojo del Muerto — A Tradition of the Arrieros — Laborious Ferrying and Quagmires — Arrival at Paso del Norte — Amenity of the Valley — Sierra Blanca and Los Organos — Face of the Country — Seagrass — Médanos or Sand-hills — An accidental River — Carrizal — Ojo Caliente — Laguna de Encinillas — Southern Haciendas — Arrival — Character of the Route and Soil,

145

[CHAPTER XXI] {V of Vol. II}

Trip from Chihuahua to Aguascalientes, in 1835 — Southern Trade and Ferias — Hacienda de la Zarca, and its innumerable Stock — Rio Nazas, and Lakes without outlet — Perennial Cotton — Exactions for Water and Pasturage — Village of Churches — City of Durango and its Peculiarities — Fruits, Pulque, etc. — Persecution of Scorpions — Negro-ship in the ascendant — Robbers and their modus operandi — City of Aguascalientes — Bathing Scene — Haste to return to the North — Mexican Mule-shoeing — Difficulties and Perplexities — A Friend in time of need — Reach Zacatecas — City Accommodations — Hotels unfashionable — Locale, Fortifications, etc., of the City of Zacatecas — Siege by Santa Anna and his easy-won Victory — At Durango again — Civil Warfare among the 'Sovereigns' — Hairbreadth 'scapes — Troubles of the Road — Safe Arrival at Chihuahua — Character of the Southern Country,

162

[CHAPTER XXII] {VI of Vol. II}

Visit to the Mining Town of Jesus-Maria — Critical Roads — Character of the Town — Losing Speculations — Mine of Santa Juliana — Curious mining Operations — Different Modes of working the Ore — The Crushing-mill, etc. — Barras de Plata — Value of Bullion — The Silver Trade — Return to Chihuahua — Resumption of the regular Narrative — Curious Wholesales — Money Table — Redundancy of Copper Coin — City of Chihuahua and its Peculiarities — Ecclesiastical Architecture — Hidalgo and his Monument — Public Works, and their present Declension — Fête in honor of Iturbide — Illiberality towards Americans — Shopping Mania — Anti-Masonic Auto de Fe,

178

[CHAPTER XXIII] {VII of Vol. II}

Departure for Santa Fé — Straitened for Food — Summary Effort to procure Beef — Seizure of one of our Party — Altercation with a Rico — His pusillanimous Procedure — Great Preparations in Chihuahua for our Arrest — Arrival of Mexican Troops — A polite Officer — Myself with three of my Men summoned back to Chihuahua — Amiable Conduct of Señor Artalejo — Junta Departmental and Discussion of my Affair — Writ of Habeas Corpus not in vogue — The Matter adjusted and Passports granted — The Morale — Impunity of savage Depredations — Final Start — Company of Paseños with their Fruits and Liquors — Arrival at Santa Fé,

193

[CHAPTER XXIV] {VIII of Vol. II}

Preparations for returning Home — Breaking out of the Small-pox — The Start — Our Caravan — Manuel the Comanche — A new Route — The Prairie on Fire — Danger to be apprehended from these Conflagrations — A Comanche Buffalo-chase — A Skirmish with the Pawnees — An intrepid Mexican — The Wounded — Value of a thick Skull — Retreat of the Enemy and their Failure — A bleak Northwester — Loss of our Sheep — The Llano Estacado and Sources of Red River — The Canadian River — Cruelties upon Buffalo — Feats at 'Still Hunting' — Mr. Wethered's Adventure — Once more on our own Soil — The False Washita — Enter our former Trail — Character of the Country over which we had travelled — Arrival at Van Buren — The two Routes to Santa Fé — Some Advantages of that from Arkansas — Restlessness of Prairie Travellers in civilized Life, and Propensity for returning to the Wild Deserts,

203

[CHAPTER XXV] {IX of Vol. II}
CONCLUSION OF THE SANTA FE TRADE

Decline of Prices — Statistical Table — Chihuahua Trade — Its Extent — Different Ports through which Goods are introduced to that Market — Expedition between Chihuahua and Arkansas — The Drawback — The more recent Incidents of the Santa Fé Caravans — Adventures of 1843 — Robbery and Murder of Chavez — Expedition from Texas — Defeat of Gen. Armijo's Van-guard — His precipitate Retreat — Texan Grievances — Unfortunate Results of indiscriminate Revenge — Want of discipline among the Texans — Disarmed by Capt. Cook — Return of the Escort of U. S. Dragoons, and of the Texans — Demands of the Mexican Government — Closing of the Santa Fé Trade,

221

[CHAPTER XXVI] {X of Vol. II}
GEOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIES

Extent of the Prairies — Mountains — Mesas or Table-lands — El Llano Estacado — Cañones — Their Annoyance to the early Caravans — Immense Gullies — Coal Mines and other Geological Products — Gypsum — Metallic Minerals — Salines — Capt. Boone's Exploration — 'Salt Plain' and 'Salt Rock' — Mr. Sibley's Visit — Saline Exudations — Unhabitableness of the high Prairies — Excellent Pasturage — Rich border Country sufficient for two States — Northern Texas — Rivers of the Prairies — Their Unfitness for Navigation — Timber — Cross Timbers — Encroachments of the Timber upon the Prairies — Fruits and Flowers — Salubrity of Climate,

237

[CHAPTER XXVII] {XI of Vol. II}
ANIMALS OF THE PRAIRIES

The Mustang or Wild Horse — Capturing him by 'Creasing,' and with the Lazo — Horse-flesh — The Buffalo — Its Appearance — Excellence of its Meat — General Utility to the Indian and Traveller — Prospect of its Extinction — Hunting the Buffalo with Bow and Arrows, the Lance, etc. — 'Still-hunting' — The Buffalo ferocious only when wounded — Butchering, etc. — The Gray Wolf — Its Modes of killing Buffalo — Their great numbers — A 'Wolf scrape' — The Prairie Wolf, or 'Jackal of the Prairies' — The Elk, Deer and Bear — The Antelope — The Bighorn — The Prairie Dog — Owls and Rattlesnakes — The Horned Frog — Fowls — Bees, etc.,

259

[CHAPTER XXVIII] {XII of Vol. II}
ABORIGINES OF AMERICA

Indian Cosmogony — Traditions of Origin — Identity of Religious Notions — Adoration of the Sun — Shawnee Faith — Anecdote of Tecumseh — Legendary Traditions — Missionaries, and Success of the Catholics — The Indian's Heaven — Burial Customs — Ancient Accounts — Depositing the Dead on Scaffolds — Superstition and Witchcraft — Indian Philosophy — Polygamy and other Matrimonial Affairs — Abhorrence of Incest — Difference in Character — Indian Hospitality — Traits of the Ancient Asiatics — Names — Relationship of Different Tribes — Dreadful Decrease of the Indians,

283

[CHAPTER XXIX] {XIII of Vol. II}
THE FRONTIER INDIANS

Causes of Removal West — Annuities, etc. — Dissatisfaction of the Indians — Their Melioration by the Change — Superiority of their present Location — Lands granted to them — Improvements, Agriculture, etc. — Their Slaves — Manufactures — Style of Living, Dress, etc. — Literary Opportunities and Improvements — Choctaw Academy — Harpies and Frauds — Games — Systems of Government — Polygamy — Ancient Laws and Customs — Intemperance — Preventive Measures — A Choctaw Enactment — Marriage and Funeral Customs of the Choctaws — The Creeks — Their Summary Executions — Mourning — Indian Titles — The Northern Tribes — Census of the Frontier Nations,

299

[CHAPTER XXX] {XIV of Vol. II}
INDIANS OF THE PRAIRIES

System of Chiefs — Mode of Warfare — War-Council — The Scalp-dance — The Calumet or Pipe of Peace — Treaties — Public News-criers — Arms of the Indians — Bow and Arrows, etc. — Hunting — Dancing — Language of Signs — Telegraphs — Wigwams or Lodges — Pack-dogs — Costumes — Painting, Tattooing, etc. — Indian Dandies — Manufactures, and Dressing the Buffalo Rug — Indian Diet, Fasting, etc. — Primitive Thomsonians — Their domestic Animals, the Dog and the Horse — Wampum — Their Chronology,

318

[CHAPTER XXXI] {XV of Vol. II}
INDIANS OF THE PRAIRIES

Intermediate Tribes — Their Wigwams and their Hunting Excursions — Dress and Cut of their Hair — The Pawnees — The Osages — Their Roguery — Matrimonial Customs — Accomplished Mourners — Their Superstitions — The Indian Figure — The 'Pawnee Picts' — Wild Tribes — Census — The Comanches — Their Range — Their Sobriety — Their Chiefs, etc. — Female Chastity — Comanche Marriage — Costumes — Horsemanship — Comanche Warfare — Predatory Forays — Martial Ceremonies — Treatment of Captives — Burial and Religious Rites,

336

[GLOSSARY].

Containing such Spanish or Hispano-Mexican words as occur undefined in this work, or recur without definition after having been once translated

353

MAP OF THE INTERIOR OF NORTHERN MEXICO. [see larger]

[Illustrations List]

COMMERCE OF THE PRAIRIES

{PART II}

CHAPTER XII [1]

Government of New Mexico — The Administration of Justice — Judicial Corruption — Prejudices against Americans — Partiality for the English — Anecdote of Governor Armijo and a Trapper — Outrage upon an American Physician — Violence suffered by the American Consul and others — Arbitrary Impositions upon Foreigners — Contribucion de Guerra — The Alcaldes and their System — The Fueros — Mode of punishing Delinquents and Criminals — Mexican System of Slavery — Thieves and Thieveries — Outrage upon an American Merchant — Gambling and Gambling-houses — Game of Monte — Anecdote of a Lady of Fashion — Chuza — Cockpits — Correr el gallo — El Coleo — Fandangoes — Cigarritos. [toc]

Prior to the adoption of the Sistema Central in the Mexican republic, the province of New Mexico was under a territorial government. The executive was called Gefe Político (political chief), and the Diputacion Provincial very inefficiently supplied the place of a legislature. Under the present system, however, New Mexico being a department, the names of these powers have been changed, but their functions remain very nearly the same. The Gobernador (governor) is appointed by the President for eight years. The legislative power is nominally vested in a Junta Departamental, a kind of state council, with very circumscribed {226} powers, somewhat analogous to, and certainly not more extensive than, those of a board of aldermen with us. But even this shadow of popular representation was 'prorogued' by Gov. Armijo soon after his accession to power (five or six years ago), and has never since been convened; so that [p022] its functions have been arbitrarily exercised by the governor ever since.

The administration of the laws in Northern Mexico constitutes one of the most painful features of her institutions. Justice, or rather judgments, are a common article of traffic; and the hapless litigant who has not the means to soften the claws of the alcalde with a 'silver unction,' is almost sure to get severely scratched in the contest, no matter what may be the justice of his cause, or the uprightness of his character. It is easy to perceive, then, that the poor and the humble stand no chance in a judicial contest with the wealthy and consequential, whose influence, even apart from their facilities for corrupting the court and suborning witnesses, is sufficient to neutralize any amount of plebeian testimony that might be brought against them.

The evil consequences arising from maladministration of justice in New Mexico are most severely felt by foreigners, against whom a strong prejudice prevails throughout the South. Of these, the citizens of the United States are by far the most constant sufferers; an inevitable result of that sinister feeling with which the 'rival republic' views the advancement {227} and superiority of her more industrious neighbors. It is a notorious fact, that while the English are universally treated with comparative consideration and respect, the Americans residing in the southern parts of the republic are frequently taunted with the effeminacy of their government and its want of decision. So openly has this preference for British subjects been manifested, and so thoroughly conscious have the Americans become of the humiliating fact, that when a mercantile firm, consisting of an American and an Englishman, has occasion to present a memorial of any description, or to sue either for an act of favor or of justice from the nation, the application is sure [p023] to be made in the name of the latter, knowing it will thus be more likely to command proper attention.

Few men, perhaps, have done more to jeopard the interests of American traders, or to bring the American character itself into contempt, than Armijo, the present arbitrary governor of New Mexico. I am happy to say, however, that in the midst of his many oppressions, he was once at least obliged to 'knock under' to one of those bold and daring spirits of the Rocky Mountains whom obstacles rather energize than subdue. This was about the year 1828, during Armijo's previous governorship. A law was then in existence which had been enacted by the general Congress prohibiting foreigners from trapping beaver in the Mexican territory, under penalty of confiscation, etc.; but as there were no native {228} trappers in New Mexico, Gov. Baca and his successor (Narbona) thought it expedient to extend licenses to foreigners, in the name of citizens, upon condition of their taking a certain proportion of Mexicans to learn the art of trapping. In pursuance of this disposition, Gov. Narbona extended a license to one Ewing Young, who was accompanied by a Mr. Sublette, brother of Capt. Wm. Sublette, and almost equally celebrated for his mountain adventures.[2] [p024] Previous to the return of this party from their trapping expedition, Armijo had succeeded Narbona in office, and they were informed that it was his intention to seize their furs. To prevent this, they deposited them at a neighboring village, where they were afterwards discovered, seized, and confiscated. The furs being damp, they were spread out in the sun before the Guardia, in Santa Fé, when Sublette, perceiving two packs of beaver which had been his own property, got by honest labor, instantly seized them and carried them away before the eyes of the whole garrison, and concealed both them and his own person in a house opposite. The entire military force was immediately put in requisition, and a general search made for the offender and his prize; but in vain: indeed, if the truth must be spoken, the troops seemed to have as little desire to find Sublette as the latter had of being found; for his character was too well known to leave any room for hope that his capture could be effected without a great deal {229} of trouble. In the meanwhile, Armijo raved, and threatened the Americans for not ferreting out their countryman and delivering him over to justice. Failing to produce any impression by blustering, however, he caused a couple of cannons to be pointed at the house where the offender was supposed to be concealed, declaring at the same time that he would batter it down; but all to no purpose. Mr. Sublette finally conveyed his furs in safety to the frontier, and thence to the United States. [p025]

The following anecdote affords another illustration of Armijo's summary mode of dealing with Americans. In the fall of 1840, a gross outrage was committed upon a physician from Massachusetts (said to be a gentleman of unexceptionable deportment), who was travelling through the country for his health. He had loaned nine hundred dollars to a person of the name of Tayon, who afterwards borrowed the same amount of another foreigner and repaid this debt. The doctor then left for the South, where he intended to pass the winter, being afflicted with a pulmonary disease. But the individual who had lent Tayon the money, being informed that he was insolvent, applied to Gov. Armijo for an order to compel the doctor to return, expecting thereby to make him reimburse the money. The order overtook him at the village of Algodones,[3] near forty miles from Santa Fé, where he was at once arrested by the alcalde, and detained some time, ignorant even of the offence for which he was doing penance. {230} In the meantime, the American Consul at Santa Fé, having been informed of what had taken place, procured a counter-order from the governor for the release of the prisoner. When the alcalde of Algodones received this document, he determined at once that so extraordinary an act of justice should cost the foreigner some trifle. Accordingly, another order was forged on the spot, commanding that he should be taken to the capital—yet a 'gentle hint' was given, that his liberty might be purchased by the payment of two hundred dollars. Being in a land of strangers, among whom he had but little hope of receiving fair play, the doctor resolved to pay the amount demanded, and fly to Chihuahua, where he would at least be safe from Armijo's clutches. Having been informed, however, of the fraud [p026] practised by the alcalde, before he had proceeded far on his journey, he returned and made an attempt to bring the delinquent officer to justice, but altogether without success.

But perhaps the most glaring outrages upon American citizens were committed in 1841, upon the occasion of the capture of the Texan Santa Fé Expedition. In Taos, a poor deaf and dumb U. S. creole Frenchman was beaten to death in open day. In San Miguel, the alcalde, at the head of a mob, entered the store of a Mr. Rowland, whom he robbed of a considerable amount of merchandise.[4] At the same time, the greatest excitement raged in Santa Fé against Americans, whose lives appeared in imminent danger; and a most {231} savage attack was made upon our excellent Consul, Manuel Alvarez, Esq., who had always taken an active interest in the welfare of American citizens.[5]

A few minutes after the governor had departed for San Miguel, to encounter the Texans, a fellow named Martin, his nephew and confidential agent, aided by a band of ferocious sans culottes, and armed with a large knife, secretly entered the house of the Consul, who perceived him in time, however, to avert the blow; yet he received a severe wound in the face during the scuffle that ensued: the rabble running in at the same time, and vociferating, "Sáquenlo ajuera! mátenlo!"—Drag him out! kill him! Mr. Alvarez doubtless [p027] owed his preservation partially to the consternation with which the failure of their clandestine attempt at his life inspired the cowardly ruffians. Instead of being punished for this diabolical act, the principal assassin, on the contrary, was soon after promoted in the army.

The outrage did not end here, however; for on the Consul's demanding his passport for the United States, it was refused for nearly a month; thus detaining him until the cold season had so far advanced, that, of his party (about fifteen in number), two perished from the cold; and not one arrived without being more or less frost-bitten—some very severely—besides suffering a loss of about fifty animals from the same cause.

Although these and other daring outrages have been duly represented to our Government, {232} it does not appear that any measures of redress have yet been taken.

With a view of oppressing our merchants, Gov. Armijo had, as early as 1839, issued a decree exempting all the natives from the tax imposed on store-houses, shops, etc., throwing the whole burden of impost upon foreigners and naturalized citizens; a measure clearly and unequivocally at variance with the treaties and stipulations entered into between the United States and Mexico. A protest was presented without effect; when our Consul, finding all remonstrances useless, forwarded a memorial to the American Minister at Mexico,[6] who, although the vital interests of American citizens were at stake, deemed the affair of too little importance, perhaps, and therefore appears to have paid no attention to it. But this system of levying excessive taxes upon foreigners, is by no means an original invention of Gov. Armijo. In 1835, the government of Chihuahua having levied a contribucion de guerra for raising means to make [p028] war upon the savages, who were laying waste the surrounding country, foreign merchants, with an equal disregard for their rights and the obligations of treaties, were taxed twenty-five dollars each per month; while the native merchants, many of whom possessed large haciendas, with thousands of stock, for the especial protection of which these taxes were chiefly imposed, paid only from five to ten dollars each. Remonstrances were presented to the governor, but in vain. In his official {233} reply, that functionary declared, "que el gobierno cree arreglado el reparto de sus respectivas contribuciones,"—the government believes your respective contributions in accordance with justice—which concluded the correspondence, and the Americans paid their twenty-five dollars per month.

The only tribunals of 'justice' in New Mexico are those of the ordinary alcaldes or justices of the peace; and an appeal from them is carried to the Supreme Court in the department of Chihuahua. The course of litigation is exceedingly simple and summary. The plaintiff makes his verbal complaint or demand before the alcalde, who orders him to summon the defendant, which is done by simply saying, "Le llama el alcalde" (the alcalde calls you) into his presence, the applicant acting thus in the double capacity of constable and complainant. The summons is always verbal, and rarely for a future time—instant attendance being expected. Should the defendant refuse to obey this simple mandate (which, by the bye, is a very rare occurrence), the alcalde sends his baston de justicia, his staff of justice, an ordinary walking-cane, distinguished only by a peculiar black silk tassel. This never fails to enforce compliance, for a refusal to attend after being shown the staff, would be construed into a contempt of court, and punished accordingly. The witnesses are sometimes sworn upon a cross cut on the baston de justicia, or more frequently, perhaps, upon a cross [p029] formed with {234} the finger and thumb. Generally speaking, however, the process of examination is gone through without a single oath being administered; and in the absence of witnesses, the alcalde often proceeds to sentence upon the simple statements of the contending parties. By a species of mutual agreement, the issue of a suit is sometimes referred to hombres buenos (arbitrators), which is the nearest approximation that is made to trial by jury. In judicial proceedings, however, but little, or rather no attention is paid to any code of laws; in fact, there is scarcely one alcalde in a dozen who knows what a law is, or who ever saw a law-book. Their decisions, when not influenced by corrupt agencies, are controlled by the prevailing customs of the country.

In the administration of justice, there are three distinct and privileged jurisdictions, known as fueros:[7] the eclesiástico, which provides that no member of the clergy, at least of the rank of curate and upwards, shall ever be arraigned before a civil tribunal, but shall be tried by their superiors in the order; the militar, which makes a similar provision in favor not only of commissioned officers, but of every common soldier from the ranks; and the civil or ordinary courts, for all cases in which the defendants are laymen. These fueros have hitherto maintained the ecclesiastical and military classes in perfect independence of the civil authorities. The civil, in fact, remains in some degree subordinate to the other two fueros; for it can, under no circumstances, {235} have any jurisdiction whatever over them; while the lay plaintiff, in the privileged tribunals of these, may, if unsuccessful, have judgment entered up against him: a consequence that can never follow the suits of the ecclesiastical or military orders before the civil tribunals. The judgments of the latter, in [p030] such cases, would be void. It is no wonder, then, that the cause of freedom in Mexico has made so little progress.

Imprisonment is almost the only sort of punishment resorted to in the North. For debt, petit larceny, highway robbery, and murder, the usual sentence is "A la cárcel" (to jail), where a person is likely to remain about as long for inability to pay dos reales, as for the worst of crimes: always provided he has not the means to pacify the offended majesty of the law. I never heard of but one execution for murder in New Mexico, since the declaration of independence. The most desperate and blood-stained criminals escape with impunity, after a few weeks of incarceration, unless the prosecutor happens to be a person of great influence; in which case, the prisoner is detained in the calabozo at will, even when the offence committed has been of a trivial character. Notwithstanding this laxity in the execution of the laws, there are few murders of any kind committed.

In case of debt, as before remarked, the delinquent is sent to jail—provided the creditor will not accept his services. If he will, however, the debtor becomes nolens volens the {236} servant of the creditor till the debt is satisfied; and, serving, as he does, at very reduced wages, his expenses for clothing, and other necessaries, but too often retain him in perpetual servitude. This system does not operate, however, upon the higher classes, yet it acts with terrible severity upon the unfortunate poor, whose condition is but little better, if not worse indeed than that of the slaves of the South. They labor for fixed wages, it is true; but all they can earn is hardly sufficient to keep them in the coarsest clothing and pay their contingent expenses. Men's wages range from two to five dollars a month, and those of women from fifty cents to two dollars; in payment of which, they rarely receive any money; but instead thereof, articles of apparel and other necessaries at the most exorbitant prices. The consequence is that the [p031] servant soon accumulates a debt which he is unable to pay—his wages being often engaged for a year or two in advance. Now, according to the usages, if not the laws of the country, he is bound to serve his master until all arrearages are liquidated; and is only enabled to effect an exchange of masters, by engaging another to pay his debt, to whom he becomes in like manner bound.

As I have already remarked, capital crimes and highway robberies are of comparatively rare occurrence in the North, but in smaller delinquencies, such as pilfering and petty rogueries of every shade and description, the common classes can very successfully compete {237} with any other people. Nothing indeed can be left exposed or unguarded without great danger of its being immediately stolen. No husbandman would think of leaving his axe or his hoe, or anything else of the slightest value, lying out over night. Empty wagons are often pillaged of every movable piece of iron, and even the wheels have been carried away. Pieces of merchandise are frequently purloined from the shelves, when they happen to be in reach. In Chihuahua, goods have actually been snatched from the counter while being exposed to the inspection of a pretended purchaser. I once had a trick of this kind played upon me by a couple of boys, who made their escape through a crowd of spectators with their booty exposed. In vain I cried "Agarren á los ladrones!" (catch the thieves!) not a single individual moved to apprehend them. I then proffered the goods stolen, to any person who might succeed in bringing the rogues to me, but to no purpose. In fact there seems to exist a great deal of repugnance, even among the better classes, to apprehending thieves; as if the mere act of informing against them was considered dishonorable. I heard a very respectable caballero once remark that he had seen a man purloin certain articles of merchandise, but he could not be induced to give [p032] up his name; observing, "O, I can't think of exposing the poor fellow!"

The impunity with which delinquencies of this description are every day committed is {238} perhaps in some degree, the consequence of those severe enactments, such as the Leyes de las Indias (the laws of the Indies), which rendered many thefts and robberies punishable with death.[8] The magistracy contracted the habit of frequently winking at crime, rather than resort to the barbarous expedients prescribed by the letter of the law. The utmost that can be gained now by public prosecution, is the recovery of the stolen property, if that be anywhere to be found, and occasionally a short period of imprisonment for the culprit. This is more particularly the case when the prosecutor happens to be a foreigner; while on the other hand, if he be the party accused, he is likely to be subjected to very severe treatment. A remarkable circumstance of this kind occurred in Chihuahua in the year 1835. One of our most respectable Missouri merchants had bought a mule of a stranger, but the animal was soon after claimed by a third person, who proved that it had been stolen from him. The Missourian would have been perfectly satisfied to lose the mule, and end the matter there; but to the surprise of all, he was directly summoned before an alcalde, and forthwith sentenced to jail: the partial judge having labored to fix the theft upon the innocent purchaser, while the real culprit, who was a native, was permitted to go at large.

The love of gambling also deserves to be noticed as a distinguishing propensity of these people. Indeed it may well be said, without any undue stretch of imagination, that [p033] shop-lifting, {239} pocket-picking, and other elegant pastimes of the same kindred, are the legitimate offspring, especially among the lower classes, of that passion for gaming, which in Mexico more than anywhere else—to use Madame Calderon's language [9] —"is impregnated with the constitution—in man, woman, and child." It prevails in the lowly hut, as well as in the glittering saloon; nor is the sanctity of the gown nor the dignity of station sufficient proof against the fascinations of this exciting vice. No one considers it a degradation to be seen frequenting a monte bank: the governor himself and his lady, the grave magistrate and the priestly dignity, the gay caballero and the titled señora may all be seen staking their doubloons upon the turn of a card; while the humbler ranchero, the hired domestic and the ragged pauper, all press with equal avidity to test their fortune at the same shrine. There are other games at cards practised among these people, depending more upon skill; but that of el monte, being one exclusively of chance, seems to possess an all-absorbing attraction, difficult to be conceived by the uninitiated spectator.

The following will not only serve to show the light in which gambling is held by all classes of society, but to illustrate the purifying effects of wealth upon character. Some twelve or fifteen years ago there lived (or rather roamed) in Taos a certain female of very loose habits, known as La Tules. Finding it difficult to obtain the means of living in that {240} district, she finally extended her wanderings to the capital. She there became a constant attendant on one of those pandemoniums where the favorite game of monte was dealt pro bono publico. Fortune, at first, did not seem inclined [p034] to smile upon her efforts, and for some years she spent her days in lowliness and misery. At last her luck turned, as gamblers would say, and on one occasion she left the bank with a spoil of several hundred dollars! This enabled her to open a bank of her own, and being favored by a continuous run of good fortune, she gradually rose higher and higher in the scale of affluence, until she found herself in possession of a very handsome fortune. In 1843, she sent to the United States some ten thousand dollars to be invested in goods. She still continues her favorite 'amusement,' being now considered the most expert 'monte dealer' in all Santa Fé. She is openly received in the first circles of society: I doubt, in truth, whether there is to be found in the city a lady of more fashionable reputation than this same Tules, now known as Señora Doña Gertrudes Barceló.

Among the multitude of games which seem to constitute the real business of life in New Mexico, that of chuza evidently presents the most attractions to ladies; and they generally lay very heavy wagers upon the result. It is played with little balls, and bears some faint resemblance to what is called roulette. Bull-baiting and cock-fighting, about which so much has been said by every traveller in Mexico, {241} are also very popular 'amusements' in the North, and generally lead to the same excesses and the same results as gaming. The cock-pit rarely fails to be crowded on Sundays and other feast days; on which occasions the church, the ball-room, the gambling-house, and the cock-pit look like so many opposition establishments; for nothing is more common than to see people going from one place to another by alternate fits, just as devotional feeling or love of pleasure happens to prompt them.

One of the most attractive sports of the rancheros and the peasantry, and that which, more than any other, calls for the exercise of skill and dexterity, is that called correr el gallo, [p035] practised generally on St. John's day. A common cock or hen is tied by the feet to some swinging limb of a tree, so as to be barely within the reach of a man on horseback: or the fowl is buried alive in a small pit in the ground leaving only the head above the surface. In either case, the racers, passing at full speed, grapple the head of the fowl, which being well greased, generally slips out of their fingers. As soon as some one, more dextrous than the rest, has succeeded in tearing it loose, he claps spurs to his steed, and endeavors to escape with the prize. He is hotly pursued, however, by the whole sporting crew, and the first who overtakes him tries to get possession of the fowl, when a strife ensues, during which the poor chicken is torn into atoms. Should the holder of the trophy be able to outstrip his pursuers, he carries {242} it to a crowd of fair spectators and presents it to his mistress, who takes it to the fandango which usually follows, as a testimony of the prowess of her lover.

Among the vaqueros, and even among persons of distinction, el coleo (tailing) is a much nobler exercise than the preceding, and is also generally reserved for days of festivity. For this sport the most untractable ox or bull is turned loose upon a level common, when all the parties who propose to join in the amusement, being already mounted, start off in pursuit of him. The most successful rider, as soon as he gets near enough to the bull, seizes him by the tail, and with a sudden manœuvre, whirls him topsy-turvy upon the plain—to the no little risk of breaking his own neck, should his horse stumble or be tripped by the legs of the falling bull.

Respecting fandangos, I will observe that this term, as it is used in New Mexico, is never applied to any particular dance, but is the usual designation for those ordinary assemblies where dancing and frolicking are carried on; baile (or ball) being generally applied to those of a higher grade. The former especially are very frequent; for nothing is more [p036] general, throughout the country, and with all classes than dancing. From the gravest priest to the buffoon—from the richest nabob to the beggar—from the governor to the ranchero—from the soberest matron to the flippant belle—from the grandest señora to the cocinera—all partake of this exhilarating {243} amusement. To judge from the quantity of tuned instruments which salute the ear almost every night in the week, one would suppose that a perpetual carnival prevailed everywhere. The musical instruments used at the bailes and fandangos are usually the fiddle and bandolin, or guitarra, accompanied in some villages by the tombé or little Indian drum. The musicians occasionally acquire considerable proficiency in the use of these instruments. But what most oddly greets, and really outrages most Protestant ears, is the accompaniment of divine service with the very same instruments, and often with the same tunes.

Of all the petty vices practised by the New Mexicans, the vicio inocente of smoking among ladies, is the most intolerable; and yet it is a habit of which the loveliest and the most refined equally partake. The puro or cigarro[10] is seen in the mouths of all: it is handed round in the parlor, and introduced at the dinner table—even in the ball-room it is presented to ladies as regularly as any {244} other species of 'refreshment;' and in the dance the señorita may often be seen whirling round with a lighted cigarrito in her mouth. The belles of the Southern cities are very frequently furnished [p037] with tenazitas de oro (little golden tongs), to hold the cigar with, so as to prevent their delicate fingers from being polluted either with the stain or scent of tobacco; forgetting at the same time its disagreeable effects upon the lips and breath.

Notwithstanding their numerous vices, however, I should do the New Mexicans the justice to say that they are but little addicted to inebriety and its attendant dissipations. Yet this doubtlessly results to a considerable degree from the dearness of spirituous liquors, which virtually places them beyond the reach of the lower classes.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Chapter xii of volume i of the original edition.—Ed.

[2] Both Bartolomé Baca (Vaca) and Narbona were Mexican officers. The former, whose term of office was from 1823 to September, 1825, belonged to a New Mexican family, and was one of the captains of the companies organized in 1808. Antonio Narbona came (1805) from the province of Chihuahua, as lieutenant of soldiers sent to repel a Navaho raid. He was governor, September, 1825, to May 1827. In 1843 he was colonel of an expedition against the Apache in Arizona.

Ewing Young was a native of Knox County, Tennessee. He early went west for hunting and trapping, having passports for Mexican territory signed at Washington in 1828-29. In these years he made his first overland trip from New Mexico to California, where he aided the padres of San José in an expedition against revolted neophytes. In 1829 he returned to New Mexico, married a Taos woman, and again (1831) set out for California. There in 1834 he met Hall Kelley, and was persuaded to accompany him to Oregon, where he formed one of the first American settlements in the Chehalem Valley, tributary to the Willamette. A journey to California in 1836, to purchase cattle, resulted in stocking the Oregon pioneers. Young's Oregon settlement prospered; he erected saw and grist mills, and upon his death (1841) the administration of his estate was the occasion of the first tentative experiment in civil government in Oregon. In after years, a son Joachim came from New Mexico, and laid successful claim to the property, which was paid by the state.

Milton J. Sublette was a younger brother of William (for whom see our volume xix, p. 221, note 55, Gregg) and himself a noted trapper and trader, operating chiefly in the Rocky Mountains. In 1833 he entered into arrangements with Nathaniel Wyeth (see our volume xxi), but the next year was compelled to retire because of injury to a leg, which caused his death at Fort Laramie, December 19, 1836.—Ed.

[3] Algodones is a small Mexican town in Sandoval County, about fifteen miles above Albuquerque. It is now a station on the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fé Railway, and has promise of becoming a junction with the Santa Fé Central.—Ed.

[4] Thomas Rowland, a native Pennsylvanian, had been a resident of New Mexico for a number of years, and had married there. His brother John was accused of complicity with the Texans, which led to the attack upon Rowland's property. This was shortly restored to him, as his friends were influential in official circles. See George W. Kendall, Narrative of the Texan Santa Fé Expedition (New York, 1844), i, pp. 271, 272, 332. John Rowland led a party of immigrants to California (1841), where he became a leading American pioneer.—Ed.

[5] Manuel Alvarez was a native of Spain, who showed much enterprise in establishing the trade between the United States and New Mexico. In 1839 he was appointed United States consul at Santa Fé, an office which he held until the American conquest. In 1849 he took part in the new state movement, and was by the suffrages of the people elected governor; but Congress having erected New Mexico into a territory, the state government lapsed.—Ed.

[6] Powhattan Ellis, for notice of whom, see our volume xix, p. 274, note 100 (Gregg).—Ed.

[7] Originally a fuero was any form of charter or privilege granted to a kingdom, province, town, or person. Fueros played great part in the constitutional development of Spain and her colonies.—Ed.

[8] The "Laws of the Indies," or the codification of the ordinances, acts, etc., passed by the Council of the Indies and other administrative Spanish authorities for the government of the colonies, was first issued at Madrid in 1681, under the title Recopilacion de Leyes de los Reynos de Indias. A fourth edition, under the direction of the Council of the Indies, issued in 1791.—Ed.

[9] Madame Frances Erskine Inglis Calderon de la Barca was a Scotchwoman married to a Spaniard who was minister to the United States, and later to Mexico. While in the latter country, she published Life in Mexico (London, 1843), an interesting, racy series of letters on the manners and customs of Spanish America.—Ed.

[10] The puro is a common cigar of pure tobacco; but the term cigarro or cigarrito is applied to those made of cut tobacco rolled up in a strip of paper or corn-husk. The latter are by far in the most general use in New Mexico, even among the men, and are those only smoked by the females. In this province cigarros are rarely sold in the shops, being generally manufactured by every one just as they are needed. Their expertness in this 'accomplishment' is often remarkable. The mounted vaquero will take out his guagito (his little tobacco-flask), his packet of hojas (or prepared husks), and his flint, steel, etc.,—make his cigarrito, strike fire and commence smoking in a minute's time—all while at full speed: and the next minute will perhaps lazo the wildest bull without interrupting his smoke.—Gregg.

CHAPTER XIII

Military Hierarchy of Mexico — Religious Superstitions — Legend of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe — A profane version of the Story — A curious Plan for manufacturing Water — Saints and Images — Processions — How to make it Rain — The Sacred Host — Fanaticism and Murder — Honors paid to a Bishop — Servility to Priests — Attendance at Public Worship — New Mexicans in Church — The Vesper Bells — Passion Week and the Ceremonies pertaining thereto — Ridiculous Penitencia — Whitewashing of Criminals — Matrimonial Connexions and Mode of Contracting them — Restrictions upon Lovers — Onerous Fees paid for Marriages and Burials — Anecdote of a Ranchero — Ditto of a Servant and a Widow, illustrative of Priestly Extortion — Modes of Burial, and Burial Ground of the Heretics.[toc]

The Mexicans seem the legitimate descendants of the subjects of 'His Most Catholic Majesty;' for the Romish faith is not only the religion established by law, but the only one tolerated by the constitution: a system of republican liberty wholly incomprehensible to the independent and tolerant spirits of the United States. Foreigners only of other creeds, in accordance with treaty stipulations, can worship privately within their own houses.[11] The Mexicans, indeed, talk of a 'union of Church and State:' they should rather say a 'union of Church and Army;' for, as has {246} [p038] already been shown, the civil authority is so nearly merged in the military and the ecclesiastical, that the government, if not a military hierarchy, is something so near akin that it is difficult to draw the distinction. As Mr. Mayer [12] very appropriately remarks, you are warned of the double dominion of the army and the church "by the constant sound of the drum and the bell, which ring in your ears from morn to midnight, and drown the sounds of industry and labor."

In the variety and grossness of popular superstitions, Northern Mexico can probably compete with any civilized country in the world. Others may have their extravagant traditions, their fanatical prejudices, their priestly impostures, but here the popular creed seems to be the embodiment of as much that is fantastic and improbable in idolatrous worship, as it is possible to clothe in the garb of a religious faith. It would fill volumes to relate one-half of the wonderful miracles and extraordinary apparitions said to have occurred during and since the conquest of the Indian Pueblos and their conversion to the Romish faith. Their character may be inferred from the following national legend of La Maravillosa Aparicion de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe—anglicè, the marvellous apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe,—which, in some one of its many traditionary shapes, is generally believed throughout the republic. I have seen some half a dozen written versions of this celebrated tradition, and heard about as many oral {247} ones; but no two agree in all the particulars. However, that which has received most currency informs us, that, on the 12th of December, 1531, an Indian called Juan Diego, while passing over the barren hill of Tepeyacac (about a league northward [p039] from the city of Mexico), in quest of medicinal herbs, had his attention suddenly arrested by the fragrance of flowers, and the sound of delightful music; and on looking up, he saw an angelic sort of figure directly before him. Being terrified he attempted to flee; but the apparition calling to him by name, "Juan Diego," said she, "go tell the bishop to have me a place of worship erected on this very spot." The Indian replied that he could not return, as he was seeking remedios for a dying relative. But the figure bade him to do as commanded, and have no further care about his relative—that he was then well. Juan Diego went to the city, but being unable to procure an audience from the bishop, he concluded he had been acting under a delusion, and again set off for his remedios. Upon ascending the same hill, however, the apparition again accosted him, and hearing his excuse, upbraided him for his want of faith and energy; and said, "Tell the bishop that it is Guadalupe, the Virgin Mary, come to dwell amongst and protect the Mexicans, who sends thee." The Indian, returning again to the city, forced his way into the presence of the bishop, who, like a good sensible man, received the messenger with jeers, and treated him as a maniac; {248} telling him finally to bring some sign, which, if really the Mother of God, his directress could readily furnish.

The perplexed Indian left the bishop's presence resolved to avoid further molestation from his spiritual acquaintance, by taking another route; yet, when near the place of his first meeting, he again encountered the apparition, who, hearing the result of his mission, ordered him to climb a naked rock hard by, and collect a bouquet of flowers which he would find growing there. Juan Diego, albeit without faith, obeyed, when, to his surprise he found the flowers referred to, and brought them to the Virgin, who, throwing them into his tilma, commanded him to carry them to the bishop; saying, [p040] "When he sees these he will believe, as he well knows that flowers do not bloom at this season, much less upon that barren rock." The humble messenger now with more courage sought the bishop's presence, and threw out the blooming credentials of his mission before him; when lo! to the astonishment of all, and to the entire conviction of his Senoría ilustrísima, the perfect image of the apparition appeared imprinted on the inside of the tilma.[13]

The reverend Prelate now fully acknowledged the divinity of the picture, and in a {249} conclave of ecclesiastics convened for the purpose, he pronounced it the image of La verdadera Vírgen and protectress of Mexico. A splendid chapel was soon after erected upon the spot designated in the mandate, in which the miraculous painting was deposited, where it is preserved to the present day. In the suburbs of every principal city in the republic, there is now a chapel specially dedicated to Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, where coarse resemblances of the original picture are to be seen. Rough paintings of the same, of various dimensions, are also to be met with in nearly every dwelling, from the palace to the most miserable hovel. The image, with an adapted [p041] motto, has also been stamped upon medals, which are swung about the necks of the faithful.[14]

[Illustrations List]

{250} As a further confirmation of the miracle, it is also told, that when Juan Diego returned to his home, he found his relative in good health—that he had suddenly risen from the last extremity about the time of the former's meeting with the Virgin.

Now comes the profane version of the story, which the skeptical have set afloat, as the most reasonable one; but against which, in the name of orthodoxy, I feel bound to enter my protest. To the better understanding of this 'explanatory tradition,' it may be necessary to premise that the name of Guadalupe was already familiar to the Spaniards, the Virgin Mary having, it is said, long before appeared in Spain, under the same title; on which occasion an order of monks, styled Frailes Guadalupanos, had been instituted. One of these worthy fathers who had been sent as a missionary to Mexico, finding the Indians rather stubborn and unyielding, conceived the plan of flattering their national vanity by fabricating a saint suited for the occasion. The Guadalupano had a poor friend who was an excellent painter, to whom he said, one day, "Take this tilma"—presenting him one of the coarsest and most slazy texture {251} (a sort of manta de guangoche); "paste it upon canvass, and paint me thereon the handsomest effigy of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe that your fancy can portray." When [p042] this was done according to order, and the tilma separated from the canvass, the picture appeared somewhat miraculous. Viewed very closely, it showed exceedingly dim; but upon receding to some distance, so that the eye could embrace a larger field of the open texture, it appeared quite distinct and beautiful. This effect is often alluded to at the present day, and easily as it might be accounted for upon philosophical principles, I have heard many an ignorant Mexican declare, that la Santisima Vírgen concealed herself from such as profaned her shrine by a too near approach, and only shone forth in all her brilliancy to those who kept at a respectful distance. But in conclusion, the story relates, that a suitable damsel being selected and decked out to represent the Virgin, the affair was played off as it has been narrated.

As regards the miracle of the fresh flowers in December the profanos say, that there was nothing very wonderful about it, as flowers were known to bloom in the lowlands, and only a few leagues from the spot where the affair took place, at all seasons of the year; implying that these had been engrafted upon the rock for the occasion. There are some who go so far as to insinuate that the bishop and other ecclesiastics were privy to the whole affair, and that every precaution had been {252} taken to see the Indian who played first fiddle in the matter, provided with a tilma, similar to the one on which the image of the Virgin was painted, and that this was artfully slipped in the place of the former, which the Indian had doffed when he climbed the rock after the flowers.—I have not seen the original portrait, but most of the copies and imitations I have met with, represent the Virgin with that peculiarly tawny complexion which was probably deemed indispensable to conciliate the prejudices of the aborigines. [p043]

The reader may reconcile the foregoing discrepancies in the best way he can; all that I have to add is, that the apparition having been canonized by the Pope, a belief in it now constitutes as much a part of the religious faith of the Mexicans, as any article of the Apostolic Creed. To judge from the blind and reverential awe in which the Virgin Guadalupe is held by the lowly and the ignorant, one would suppose her to be the first person in the Divinity, for to her their vows are directed, their prayers offered up, and all their confessions made.

Among the many traditions implicitly believed in by the people, and which tend to obstruct the advancement of knowledge, there is one equally as amusing and extravagant as the foregoing, which has been gravely recounted by the present Vicar of New Mexico and ex-delegate to Congress. During the memorable insurrection of 1680, the Pueblo of San Felipe was about the only one that {253} remained faithful to the Spaniards in all the North. It was during that exciting period that the padre of another Pueblo took refuge among them. Being besieged by their neighbors and their communication with the water entirely cut off, they applied for advice to the reverend padre, who bade them not despair, as he had it in his power to supply them with water. He then began to pray very fervently, after which he opened a vein in each of his arms, from whence there flowed two such copious streams of water that all fears of being reduced by thirst were completely allayed![15] [p044]

It is a part of the superstitious blindness of these people to believe that every one of their legion of canonized saints possesses the power of performing certain miracles; and their aid is generally invoked on all occasions of sickness and distress. The kindest office, therefore, that the friends of a sick person can perform, is to bring forward the image of some of those saints whose healing powers have been satisfactorily tested. The efficacy of these superstitious remedies will not be difficult to account for, when the powerful influence of the imagination upon disease is taken into consideration.

The images of patron saints are never put in such general requisition, however, as in seasons of severe drought. The priests, being generally expert at guessing the approach of a pluvial period, take good care not to make confident promises till they have substantial {254} reason to anticipate a speedy fulfilment of their prophecies. When the fitting season draws nigh, they carry out the image of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, or that of some other favorite saint, and parade about the streets, the fields and the meadows, followed by all the men, women, and children of the neighborhood, in solemn procession. Should the clouds condescend to vouchsafe a supply of rain within a week or two of this general humiliation, no one ever thinks of begrudging the scores of dollars that have been paid to the priests for bringing about so happy a result.

Speaking of processions, I am reminded of another peculiar custom so prevalent in Mexico, that it never fails to attract the attention of strangers. This is the passage of the Sacred Host to the residence of persons dangerously ill, for the purpose of administering to them the Extreme Unction. In New Mexico, however, this procession is not attended with so much ostentatious display as it is in the South, the paradise of ecclesiastics, where [p045] it is conveyed in a black coach drawn by a pair of black mules, accompanied by armed soldiers and followed by crowds of léperos of all sexes and ages. During the procession of the Host, two church-bells of different tones are kept sounding by alternate strokes. Also the carriage is always preceded by a bell-man tinkling a little bell in regular time, to notify all within hearing of its approach, that they may be prepared to pay it due homage. When {255} this bell is heard, all those that happen to be within sight of the procession, though at ever so great a distance, instantly kneel and remain in that position till it has passed out of sight. On these occasions, if an American happens to be within hearing, he endeavors to avoid the cortége, by turning the corner of a street or entering a shop or the house of a friend; for although it may be expedient, and even rational, to conform with the customs and ceremonies of these countries we are sojourning in, very few Protestants would feel disposed to fall on their knees before a coach freighted with frail mortals pretending to represent the Godhead! I am sorry to say that non-compliants are frequently insulted and sometimes pelted with stones by the rabble. Even a foreign artisan was once massacred in the Mexican metropolis because he refused to come out of his shop, where he was kneeling, and perform the act of genuflexion in the street!

This abject idolatry sometimes takes a still more humiliating aspect, and descends to the worship of men in the capacity of religious rulers. On the occasion of the Bishop of Durango's visit to Santa Fé in 1833, an event which had not taken place for a great many years, the infatuated population hailed his arrival with as much devotional enthusiasm as if it had been the second advent of the Messiah. Magnificent preparations were made everywhere for his reception: the streets were swept, the roads and [p046] bridges on his route repaired {256} and decorated; and from every window in the city there hung such a profusion of fancy curtains and rich cloths that the imagination was carried back to those glowing descriptions of enchanted worlds which one reads of in the fables of necromancers. I must observe, however, that there is a custom in all the towns of Mexico (which it would not be safe to neglect), providing that whenever a religious procession takes place, all the doors and windows facing the street along which it is to pass, shall be decorated with shawls, carpets, or fancy cloths, according to the means and capabilities of the proprietor. During the bishop's sojourn in Santa Fé, which, to the great joy of the inhabitants, lasted for several weeks, he never appeared in the streets but that 'all true Catholics' who were so fortunate as to obtain a glimpse of his Señoría Ilustrísima immediately dropped upon their knees, and never moved from that position till the mitred priest had either vouchsafed his benediction or had disappeared. Even the principal personages of the city would not venture to address him till they had first knelt at his feet and kissed his 'pastoral ring.' This, however, is only a heightened picture of what occurs every day in the intercourse between the rancheros and the common padres of the country. The slavish obsequiousness of the lower classes towards these pampered priests is almost incredible.

No people are more punctual in their attendance upon public worship, or more exact {257} in the performance of the external rites of religion, than the New Mexicans. A man would about as soon think of venturing in twenty fathoms of water without being able to swim, as of undertaking a journey without hearing mass first. These religious exercises, however, partake but seldom of the character of true devotion; for people may be seen chattering or tittering while in the act of crossing themselves, or muttering [p047] some formal prayer. Indeed, it is the common remark of strangers, that they are wont to wear much graver countenances while dancing at a fandango than during their devotional exercises at the foot of the altar. In nothing, however, is their observance of the outward forms of religion more remarkable than in their deportment every day towards the close of twilight, when the large bell of the Parroquia peals for la oracion, or vespers.[16] All conversation is instantly suspended—all labor ceases—people of all classes, whether on foot or on horseback, make a sudden halt—even the laden porter, groaning under the weight of an insupportable burden, stops in the midst of his career and stands still. An almost breathless silence reigns throughout the town, disturbed only by the occasional sibilations of the devout multitude: all of which, accompanied by the slow heavy peals of a large sonorous bell, afford a scene truly solemn and appropriate. At the expiration of about two minutes the charm is suddenly broken by the clatter of livelier-toned bells; and a buenas {258} tardes (good evening) to those present closes the ceremony: when presto, all is bustle and confusion again—the colloquial chit-chat is resumed—the smith plies upon his anvil with redoubled energy—the clink of the hammer simultaneously resounds in every direction—the wayfarers are again in motion,—both pleasure and business, in short, assume their respective sway.

Although the Catholics have a saint for each day in the year, the number of canonized fiestas in which labor is prohibited has been somewhat reduced in Mexico. La Semana Santa, or Passion Week, is perhaps the period when the religious feeling, such as it is, is most fully excited: [p048] Viernes Santo (Good Friday), especially, is observed with great pomp and splendor. An image of Christ large as life, nailed to a huge wooden cross, is paraded through the streets, in the midst of an immense procession, accompanied by a glittering array of carved images, representing the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and several others; while the most notorious personages of antiquity, who figured at that great era of the World's history,—the centurion with a band of guards, armed with lances, and apparelled in the costume supposed to have been worn in those days,—may be seen bestriding splendidly caparisoned horses, in the breathing reality of flesh and blood. Taking it all in all, this spectacle,—the ceremonies and manœuvres which attend its career through the densely crowded and ornamented {259} streets,—are calculated to produce impressions of a most confused description, in which regret and melancholy may be said to form no inconsiderable share.

It has been customary for great malefactors to propitiate Divine forgiveness by a cruel sort of penitencia, which generally takes place during the Semana Santa. I once chanced to be in the town of Tomé [17] on Good Friday, when my attention was arrested by a man almost naked, bearing, in imitation of Simon, a huge cross upon his shoulders, which, though constructed of the lightest wood, must have weighed over a hundred pounds. The long end dragged upon the ground, as we have seen it represented in sacred pictures, and about the middle swung a stone of immense dimensions, appended there for the purpose of making the task more laborious. Not far behind followed another equally destitute of clothing, with his whole body wrapped in chains and cords, which seemed buried in the [p049] muscles, and which so cramped and confined him that he was scarcely able to keep pace with the procession. The person who brought up the rear presented a still more disgusting aspect. He walked along with a patient and composed step, while another followed close behind belaboring him lustily with a whip, which he flourished with all the satisfaction of an amateur; but as the lash was pointed only with a tuft of untwisted sea-grass, its application merely served to keep open the wounds upon the penitent's {260} back, which had been scarified, as I was informed, with the keen edge of a flint, and was bleeding most profusely. The blood was kept in perpetual flow by the stimulating juice of certain herbs, carried by a third person, into which the scourger frequently dipped his lash. Although the actors in this tragical farce were completely muffled, yet they were well known to many of the by-standers, one of whom assured me that they were three of the most notorious rascals in the country. By submitting to this species of penance, they annually received complete absolution of their past year's sins, and, thus 'purified,' entered afresh on the old career of wickedness and crime.

In New Mexico, the institution of marriage changes the legal rights of the parties, but it scarcely affects their moral obligations. It is usually looked upon as a convenient cloak for irregularities, which society less willingly tolerates in the lives of unmarried women. Yet when it is considered that the majority of matches are forced and ill-assorted, some idea may be formed of the little incitement that is given to virtue. There are very few parents who would stoop to consult a young lady's wishes before concluding a marriage contract, nor would maidens, generally, ever dream of a matrimonial connection unless proposed first by the father. The lover's proposals are, upon the same principle, made in writing direct to the parents themselves, [p050] and without the least deference to the wishes or inclinations {261} of the young lady whose hand is thus sought in marriage. The tender emotions engendered between lovers during walks and rambles along the banks of silent streams, are never experienced in this country; for the sexes are seldom permitted to converse or be together alone. In short, instances have actually occurred when the betrothed couple have never seen each other till brought to the altar to be joined in wedlock.

Among the humbler classes, there are still more powerful causes calculated to produce irregularity of life; not the least of which is the enormous fee that must be paid to the curate for tying the matrimonial knot. This system of extortion is carried so far as to amount very frequently to absolute prohibition: for the means of the bridegroom are often insufficient for the exigency of the occasion; and the priests seldom consent to join people in wedlock until the money has been secured to them. The curates being without control, the marriage rates are somewhat irregular, but they usually increase in proportion to the character of the ceremonies and to the circumstances of the parties. The lowest (about twenty dollars) are adapted to the simplest form, solemnized in church at mass; but with the excuse of any extra service and ceremonies, particularly if performed at a private house, the fees are increased often as high as several hundred dollars: I have heard of $500 being paid for a marriage ceremony. The following communication, which {262} appeared in a Chihuahua paper under the signature of "Un Ranchero" affords some illustration of the grievances of the plebeians in this respect. Literally translated it runs thus:

"Messrs. Editors of the Noticioso de Chihuahua:

"Permit me, through your paper, to say a few words in print, as those of my pen have been unsuccessfully employed [p051] with the curas of Allende and Jimenez, to whom I applied the other day for the purpose of ascertaining their legal charge to marry one of my sons. The following simple and concise answer is all that I have been able to elicit from either of these ecclesiastics:—'The marriage fees are a hundred and nineteen dollars.' I must confess that I was completely suffocated when I heard this outrageous demand upon my poor purse; and did I not pride myself on being a true Apostolic Roman Catholic, and were it not that the charming graces of my intended daughter-in-law have so captivated my son that nothing but marriage will satisfy him, I would assuredly advise him to contrive some other arrangement with his beloved, which might not be so ruinous to our poor purse; for reflect that $119 are the life and all of a poor ranchero. If nothing else will do, I shall have to sell my few cows (mis vaquitas) to help my son out of this difficulty."—The 'Ranchero' then appeals to the Government to remedy such evils, by imposing some salutary restrictions upon the clergy; and concludes by saying, "If this is not done, I will {263} never permit either of my remaining three sons to marry."

This article was certainly an effort of boldness against the priesthood, which may have cost the poor 'Ranchero' a sentence of ex-communication. Few of his countrymen would venture on a similar act of temerity; and at least nine-tenths profess the most profound submission to their religious rulers. Being thus bred to look upon their priests as infallible and holy samples of piety and virtue, we should not be so much surprised at the excesses of the 'flock' when a large portion of the pastores, the padres themselves, are foremost in most of the popular vices of the country: first at the fandango—first at the gaming table—first at the cock-pit—first at bacchanalian orgies—and [p052] by no means last in the contraction of those liaisons which are so emphatically prohibited by their vows.

The baptismal and burial fees (neither of which can be avoided without incurring the charge of heresy) are also a great terror to the candidates for married life. "If I marry," says the poor yeoman, "my family must go unclad to baptize my children; and if any of them should die, we must starve ourselves to pay the burial charges." The fee for baptism, it is true, is not so exorbitant, and in accordance to custom, is often paid by the padrino or sponsor; but the burial costs are almost equally extravagant with those of marriage, varying in proportion to the age and {264} circumstances of the deceased. A faithful Mexican servant in my employ at Chihuahua, once solicited forty dollars to bury his mother. Upon my expressing some surprise at the exorbitancy of the amount, he replied—"That is what the cura demands, sir, and if I do not pay it my poor mother will remain unburied!" Thus this man was obliged to sacrifice several months' wages, to pamper the avarice of a vicious and mercenary priest. On another occasion, a poor widow in Santa Fé, begged a little medicine for her sick child: "Not," said the disconsolate mother, "that the life of the babe imports me much, for I know the angelito will go directly to heaven; but what shall I do to pay the priest for burying it? He will take my house and all from me—and I shall be turned desolate into the street!"—and so saying, she commenced weeping bitterly.

Indigent parents are thus frequently under the painful necessity of abandoning and disowning their deceased children, to avoid the responsibility of burial expenses. To this end the corpse is sometimes deposited in some niche or corner of the church during the night; and upon being [p053] found in the morning, the priest is bound to inter it gratis, unless the parent can be discovered, in which case the latter would be liable to severe castigation, besides being bound to pay the expenses.

Children that have not been baptized are destined, according to the popular faith, to a kind of negative existence in the world of {265} spirits, called Limbo, where they remain for ever without either suffering punishment or enjoying happiness. Baptized infants, on the other hand, being considered without sin, are supposed to enter at once into the joys of heaven. The deceased child is then denominated an angelito (a little angel), and is interred with joy and mirth instead of grief and wailing. It is gaudily bedecked with fanciful attire and ornaments of tinsel and flowers; and being placed upon a small bier, it is carried to the grave by four children as gaily dressed as their circumstances will allow; accompanied by musicians using the instruments and playing the tunes of the fandangos; and the little procession is nothing but glee and merriment.

In New Mexico the lower classes are very rarely, if ever, buried in coffins: the corpse being simply wrapped in a blanket, or some other covering, and in that rude attire consigned to its last home. It is truly shocking to a sensitive mind to witness the inhuman treatment to which the remains of the dead are sometimes subjected. There being nothing to indicate the place of the previous graves, it not unfrequently happens that the partially decayed relics of a corpse are dug up and forced to give place to the more recently deceased, when they are again thrown with the earth into the new grave with perfect indifference. The operation of filling up the grave especially, is particularly repulsive; the earth being pounded down with a large maul, {266} as fast as it is thrown in upon the unprotected corpse, with a force sufficient to crush a delicate frame to atoms. [p054]

As the remains of heretics are not permitted to pollute either the church-yard or Campo Santo, those Americans who have died in Santa Fé, have been buried on a hill which overlooks the town to the northward. The corpses have sometimes been disinterred and robbed of the shroud in which they were enveloped; so that, on a few occasions, it has been deemed expedient to appoint a special watch for the protection of the grave.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] Religious freedom, and entire separation of church and state, were secured in Mexico, after a long and bitter struggle, by the constitution of 1873.—Ed.

[12] Brantz Mayer (1809-79), a native of Baltimore, Maryland, historian and diplomat. In 1843 he was secretary of legation at Mexico, and upon his return published Mexico as it was and as it is (New York, 1844), to which book Gregg here refers. Mayer was the author of several other works, both on Mexico and American history, and founder of the Maryland Historical Society.—Ed.

[13] This is a kind of mantle or loose covering worn by the Indians, which, in the present instance, was made of the coarse filaments of a species of maguey, and a little resembled the common coffee sacks. The painting, as it necessarily must be on such a material, is said to be coarse, and represents the Virgin covered with a blue robe bespangled with stars.—Gregg.

[14] The accompanying cut represents both sides of a medal of "Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de Mexico," of which, as I have been informed, 216,000 were struck at Birmingham in the year 1831, designed for the Mexican market. Similar medals are worn by nearly nine-tenths of the population of Northern Mexico. On one side, as will be seen, the Virgin is represented in her star-spangled robe, supported by a cherub and the moon under her feet: a design, which, it has been suggested, was most probably drawn from Revelation xii. 1. The date, "A. 1805," is that perhaps of some one of the innumerable miracles, which, according to fame in Mexico, have been wrought by the Virgin Guadalupe. The motto, "Non fecit taliter omni nationi" (She "hath not dealt so with any nation") which is found on the reverse of the medal, is extracted from Psalm cxlvii. 20.—Gregg.

[15] This story is apochryphal, since the pueblo was besieged neither during the revolt of 1680 nor that of 1696. The pueblo of San Felipe is of Queres origin, and was known in the seventeenth century. Its first friar was Cristobal Quiñones, who died in 1609. The pueblo was faithful to the Spanish, its people killing none of that nation during the revolt. It now occupied its fourth site in Sandoval County, at the foot of a mesa which is crowned with the ruins of an earlier site. It is the southernmost pueblo of Queres stock, and had (1903) a population of five hundred and sixteen.—Ed.

[16] The Parroquia, or cathedral of Santa Fé, stands upon the site of, and partially incorporates the early building of 1627. It is built of light brown stone, and flanked by two bell towers.—Ed.

[17] Tomé is a town on the east bank of the Rio Grande, some distance below Albuquerque. It was at one time the seat of Valencia County, and in 1900 had a population of about eight hundred.—Ed.

CHAPTER XIV

The Pueblos — Their Character for Sobriety, Honesty, and Industry — Traditional Descent from Montezuma — Their Languages — Former and present Population — The Pueblo of Pecos — Singular Habits of that ill-fated Tribe — Curious Tradition — Montezuma and the Sun — Legend of a Serpent — Religion and Government — Secret Council — Laws and Customs — Excellent Provisions against Demoralization — Primitive Pastimes of the Pueblos — Their Architecture — Singular Structures of Taos, and other novel Fortifications — Primitive state of the Arts among the Pueblos — Style of Dress, Weapons, etc. — Their Diet — The Guayave.[toc]

Allusion has so frequently been made to the aboriginal tribes of New Mexico, known as Los Pueblos, that I think I shall not be trespassing too much upon the patience of the reader, in glancing rapidly at some of the more conspicuous features of their national habits and character.

Although the term Pueblo in Spanish literally means the people, and their towns, it is here specifically applied to the Christianized Indians (as well as their villages)—to those aborigines whom the Spaniards not only subjected to their laws, but to an acknowledgment of the Romish faith, and upon whom they forced baptism and the cross in exchange for {268} the vast possessions of which they robbed them. All that was left them was, to each Pueblo a league or two of land situated around their villages, the conquerors reserving to themselves at least ninety-nine hundredths of the whole domain as a requital for their generosity. [p055]

When these regions were first discovered it appears that the inhabitants lived in comfortable houses and cultivated the soil, as they have continued to do up to the present time. Indeed, they are now considered the best horticulturists in the country, furnishing most of the fruits and a large portion of the vegetable supplies that are to be found in the markets. They were until very lately the only people in New Mexico who cultivated the grape. They also maintain at the present time considerable herds of cattle, horses, etc. They are, in short, a remarkably sober and industrious race, conspicuous for morality and honesty, and very little given to quarrelling or dissipation, except when they have had much familiar intercourse with the Hispano-Mexican population.

Most of these Pueblos call themselves the descendants of Montezuma, although it would appear that they could only have been made acquainted with the history of that monarch, by the Spaniards; as this province is nearly two thousand miles from the ancient kingdom of Mexico. At the time of the conquest they must have been a very powerful people—numbering near a hundred villages, as existing {269} ruins would seem to indicate; but they are now reduced to about twenty, which are scattered in various parts of the territory.[18]

There are but three or four different languages spoken among them, and these, indeed, may be distantly allied to each other. Those of Taos, Picuris, Isleta, and perhaps some others, speak what has been called the Piro language. A large portion of the others, viz., those of San Juan, Santa [p056] Clara, Nambé, Pojuaque, Tezuque, and some others, speak Tegua, having all been originally known by this general name; and those of Cochití, Santo Domingo, San Felipe, and perhaps Sandía, speak the same tongue, though they seem formerly to have been distinguished as Queres. The numerous tribes that inhabited the highlands between Rio del Norte and Pecos, as those of Pecos, Ciénega, Galisteo, etc., were known anciently as Tagnos, but these are now all extinct; yet their language is said to be spoken by those of Jemez and others of that section. Those further to the westward [19] {270} are perhaps allied to the Navajoes. Though all these Pueblos speak their native languages among themselves, a great many of them possess a smattering of Spanish, sufficient to carry on their intercourse with the Mexicans.[20]

The population of these Pueblos will average nearly five hundred souls each (though some hardly exceed one hundred), making an aggregate of nine or ten thousand. At the time of the original conquest, at the close of the sixteenth century, they were, as has been mentioned, much, [p057] perhaps ten-fold, more numerous.[21] Ancient ruins are now to be seen scattered in every quarter of the territory: of some, entire stone walls are yet standing, while others are nearly or quite obliterated, many of them being now only known by their names which history or tradition has preserved to us. Numbers were no doubt destroyed during the insurrection of 1680, and the petty internal strifes which followed.

Several of these Pueblos have been converted into Mexican villages, of which that of Pecos is perhaps the most remarkable instance. What with the massacres of the second conquest, and the inroads of the Comanches, they gradually dwindled away, till they found themselves reduced to about a dozen, comprising all ages and sexes; and it was only a few years ago that they abandoned the home of their fathers and joined the Pueblo of Jemez.

Many curious tales are told of the singular habits of this ill-fated tribe, which must no {271} doubt have tended to hasten its utter annihilation. A tradition was prevalent among them that Montezuma had kindled a holy fire, and enjoined their ancestors not to suffer it to be extinguished until he should return to deliver his people from the yoke of the Spaniards. In pursuance of these commands, a constant watch had been maintained for ages to prevent the fire from going out; and, as tradition further informed them, that Montezuma would appear with the sun, the deluded Indians were to be seen every clear morning upon the terraced roofs of their houses, attentively watching for the appearance of the 'king of light,' in hopes of seeing him 'cheek by jowl' with their immortal sovereign. I have [p058] myself descended into the famous estufas, or subterranean vaults, of which there were several in the village, and have beheld this consecrated fire, silently smouldering under a covering of ashes, in the basin of a small altar. Some say that they never lost hope in the final coming of Montezuma until, by some accident or other, or a lack of a sufficiency of warriors to watch it, the fire became extinguished; and that it was this catastrophe that induced them to abandon their villages, as I have before observed.

The task of tending the sacred fire was, it is said, allotted to the warriors. It is further related, that they took the watch by turns for two successive days and nights, without partaking of either food, water, or sleep; while some assert, that instead of being restricted to {272} two days, each guard continued with the same unbending severity of purpose until exhaustion, and very frequently death, left their places to be filled by others. A large portion of those who came out alive were generally so completely prostrated by the want of repose and the inhalation of carbonic gas that they very soon died; when, as the vulgar story asseverates, their remains were carried to the den of a monstrous serpent, which kept itself in excellent condition by feeding upon these delicacies. This huge snake (invented no doubt by the lovers of the marvellous to account for the constant disappearance of the Indians) was represented as the idol which they worshipped, and as subsisting entirely upon the flesh of his devotees: live infants, however, seemed to suit his palate best. The story of this wonderful serpent was so firmly believed in by many ignorant people, that on one occasion I heard an honest ranchero assert, that upon entering the village very early on a winter's morning, he saw the huge trail of the reptile in the snow, as large as that of a dragging ox. [p059]

This village, anciently so renowned, lies twenty-five miles eastward of Santa Fé, and near the Rio Pecos, to which it gave name. Even so late as ten years ago, when it contained a population of fifty to a hundred souls, the traveller would oftentimes perceive but a solitary Indian, a woman, or a child, standing here and there like so many statues upon the roofs of their houses, with their eyes fixed on {273} the eastern horizon, or leaning against a wall or a fence, listlessly gazing at the passing stranger; while at other times not a soul was to be seen in any direction, and the sepulchral silence of the place was only disturbed by the occasional barking of a dog, or the cackling of hens.[22]

No other Pueblo appears to have adopted this extraordinary superstition: like Pecos, however, they have all held Montezuma to be their perpetual sovereign. It would likewise appear that they all worship the sun; for it is asserted to be their regular practice to turn the face towards the east at sunrise.[23] They profess the Catholic faith, however, of which, nevertheless, they cannot be expected to understand anything beyond the formalities; as [p060] but very few of their Mexican neighbors and teachers can boast of more.

Although nominally under the jurisdiction of the federal government, as Mexican citizens, many features of their ancient customs are still retained, as well in their civil rule as in their religion. Each Pueblo is under the control of a cacique or gobernadorcillo, chosen from among their own sages, and commissioned by the governor of New Mexico. The cacique, when any public business is to be transacted, collects together the principal chiefs of the Pueblo in an estufa, or cell, usually under ground, and there lays before them the subjects of debate, which are generally settled by the opinion of the majority. No Mexican is admitted to these councils, nor do the {274} subjects of discussion ever transpire beyond the precincts of the cavern. The council has also charge of the interior police and tranquility of the village.[24] One of their regulations is to appoint a secret watch for the purpose of keeping down disorders and vices of every description, and especially to keep an eye over the young men and women of the village. When any improper intercourse among them is detected, the parties are immediately carried to the council, and the cacique intimates to them that they must be wedded forthwith. Should the girl be of bad character, and the man, [p061] therefore, unwilling to marry her, they are ordered to keep separate under penalty of the lash. Hence it is, that the females of these Pueblos are almost universally noted for their chastity and modest deportment.[25]

They also elect a capitan de guerra, a kind of commander-in-chief of the warriors, whose office it is to defend their homes and their interests both in the field and in the council chamber.[26] Though not very warlike, these Pueblos are generally valiant, and well skilled in the strategies of Indian warfare; and although they have been branded with cruelty and ferocity, yet they can hardly be said to surpass the Mexicans in this respect: both, in times of war, pay but little regard either to age or sex. I have been told that when the Pueblos return from their belligerent expeditions, instead of going directly to their homes, they always visit their council cell first. Here {275} they undress, dance, and carouse, frequently for two days in succession before seeing their families.

Although the Pueblos are famous for hospitality and industry, they still continue in the rudest state of ignorance, having neither books nor schools among them, as none of their languages have been reduced to rules, and very few of their children are ever taught in Spanish.[27] A degree of primitiveness characterizes all their amusements, which bear a strong similarity to those of the wilder tribes. Before the New Mexican government had become so much [p062] impoverished, there was wont to be held in the capital on the 16th of September of every year, a national celebration of the declaration of Independence, to which the Pueblos were invited. The warriors and youths of each nation with a proportionate array of dusky damsels would appear on these occasions, painted and ornamented in accordance with their aboriginal customs, and amuse the inhabitants with all sorts of grotesque feats and native dances. Each Pueblo generally had its particular uniform dress and its particular dance. The men of one village would sometimes disguise themselves as elks, with horns on their heads, moving on all-fours, and mimicking the animal they were attempting to personate. Others would appear in the garb of a turkey, with large heavy wings, and strut about in imitation of that bird. But the Pecos tribe, already reduced to seven men, always occasioned most diversion. {276} Their favorite exploit was, each to put on the skin of a buffalo, horns, tail, and all, and thus accoutred scamper about through the crowd, to the real or affected terror of all the ladies present, and to the great delight of the boys.

The Pueblo villages are generally built with more regularity than those of the Mexicans, and are constructed of the same materials as were used by them in the most primitive ages. Their dwelling-houses, it is true, are not so spacious as those of the Mexicans, containing very seldom more than two or three small apartments upon the ground floor, without any court-yard, but they have generally a much loftier appearance, being frequently two stories high and sometimes more. A very curious feature in these buildings, is, that there is most generally no direct communication between the street and the lower rooms, into which they descend by a trap-door from the upper story, the latter being accessible by means of ladders. Even the entrance to the upper stories is frequently at the roof. This style of [p063] building seems to have been adopted for security against their marauding neighbors of the wilder tribes, with whom they were often at war. When the family had all been housed at night, the ladder was drawn up, and the inmates were thus shut up in a kind of fortress, which bid defiance to the scanty implements of warfare used by the wild Indians.

Though this was their most usual style of architecture, there still exists a Pueblo of Taos, {277} composed, for the most part, of but two edifices of very singular structure—one on each side of a creek, and formerly communicating by a bridge. The base-story is a mass of near four hundred feet long, a hundred and fifty wide, and divided into numerous apartments, upon which other tiers of rooms are built, one above another, drawn in by regular grades, forming a pyramidal pile of fifty or sixty feet high, and comprising some six or eight stories. The outer rooms only seem to be used for dwellings, and are lighted by little windows in the sides, but are entered through trap-doors in the azoteas or roofs. Most of the inner apartments are employed as granaries and store-rooms, but a spacious hall in the centre of the mass, known as the estufa, is reserved for their secret councils. These two buildings afford habitations, as is said, for over six hundred souls.[28] There is likewise an edifice in the Pueblo of Picuris [29] of the same class, and some of those of Moqui are also said to be similar.

Some of these villages were built upon rocky eminences deemed almost inaccessible: witness for instance [p064] the ruins of the ancient Pueblo of San Felipe, which may be seen towering upon the very verge of a precipice several hundred feet high, whose base is washed by the swift current of the Rio del Norte. The still existing Pueblo of Acoma also stands upon an isolated mound whose whole area is occupied by the village, being fringed all around by a precipitous ceja or cliff. {278} The inhabitants enter the village by means of ladders, and by steps cut into the solid rock upon which it is based.[30]

At the time of the conquest, many of these Pueblos manufactured some singular textures of cotton and other materials; but with the loss of their liberty, they seem to have lost most of their arts and ingenuity; so that the finer specimens of native fabrics are now only to be met with among the Moquis and Navajoes, who still retain their independence. The Pueblos, however, make some of the ordinary classes of blankets and tilmas,[31] as well as other woolen stuffs. They also manufacture, according to their aboriginal art, both for their own consumption, and for the purpose of traffic, a species of earthenware not much inferior to the coarse crockery of our common potters. The pots made of this material stand fire remarkably well, and are the universal substitutes for all the purposes of cookery, even among the Mexicans, for the iron castings of this country, which are utterly unknown there. Rude as this kind of crockery is, it nevertheless evinces a great deal of skill, considering that it is made entirely [p065] without lathe or any kind of machinery. It is often fancifully painted with colored earths and the juice of a plant called guaco, which brightens by burning. They also work a singular kind of wicker-ware, of which some bowls (if they may be so called) are so closely platted, {279} that, once swollen by dampness, they serve to hold liquids, and are therefore light and convenient vessels for the purposes of travellers.[32]

The dress of many of the Pueblos has become assimilated in some respects to that of the common Mexicans; but by far the greatest portion still retain most of their aboriginal costume. The Taosas and others of the north somewhat resemble the prairie tribes in this respect; but the Pueblos to the south and west of Santa Fé dress in a different style, which is said to be similar in many respects to that of the aboriginal inhabitants of the city of Mexico. The moccasin is the only part of the prairie suit that appears common to them all, and of both sexes. They mostly wear a kind of short breeches and long stockings, the use of which they most probably acquired from the Spaniards. The saco, a species of woollen jacket without sleeves, completes their exterior garment; except during inclement seasons, when they make use of the tilma. Very few of them have hats or head-dress of any kind; and they generally wear their hair long—commonly fashioned into a queue, wrapped with some colored stuff. The squaws of the northern tribes dress pretty much like those of the Prairies; but the usual costume of the females of the southern and western Pueblos is a handsome kind of small blanket of dark color, [p066] which is drawn under one arm and tacked over the other shoulder, leaving both arms free and naked. It is generally {280} worn with a cotton chemise underneath and is bound about the waist with a girdle. We rarely if ever see a thorough-bred Pueblo woman in Mexican dress.[33]

The weapons most in use among the Pueblos are the bow and arrow, with a long-handled lance and occasionally a fusil. The rawhide shield is also much used, which, though of but little service against fire-arms, serves to ward off the arrow and lance.

The aliment of these Indians is, in most respects, similar to that of the Mexicans; in fact, as has been elsewhere remarked, the latter adopted with their utensils numerous items of aboriginal diet. The tortilla, the atole, the pinole,[34] and many others, together with the use of chile, are from the Indians. Some of the wilder tribes make a peculiar kind of pinole, by grinding the bean of the mezquite tree into flour, which is then used as that of corn. And besides the tortilla they make another singular kind of bread, if we may so style it, called guayave, a roll of which so much resembles a 'hornets' nest,' that by strangers it is often designated by this title. It is usually made of Indian corn prepared and ground as for tortillas, and diluted into a thin paste. {281} I once happened to enter an Indian hut where a young girl of the family was baking guayaves. She was sitting by a fire, over which a large flat stone was heating, with a crock of prepared paste by her side. She [p067] thrust her hand into the paste, and then wiped it over the heated stone. What adhered to it was instantly baked and peeled off. She repeated this process at the rate of a dozen times or more per minute. Observing my curiosity, the girl handed me one of the 'sheets,' silently; for she seemed to understand but her native tongue. I found it pleasant enough to the taste; though when cold, as I have learned by experience, it is, like the cold tortilla, rather tough and insipid. They are even thinner than wafers; and some dozens, being folded in a roll, constitute the laminate composition before mentioned. Being thus preserved, they serve the natives for months upon their journeys.

FOOTNOTES:

[18] On the subject of Pueblo Indians, consult T. Donaldson, Moqui Pueblo Indians of Arizona and Pueblo Indians of New Mexico (Washington, 1893), extra bulletin of eleventh census; John T. Short, North Americans of Antiquity (New York, 1880); A. F. A. Bandelier, Archæological Institute of America Papers, American Series, i-iv; N. O. G. Nordenskiold, Cliff-dwellers of the Mesa Verde (Chicago and Stockholm, 1893); C. F. Lummis, Land of Poco Tiempo (New York, 1893).—Ed.

[19] Of these, the Pueblo of Zuñi has been celebrated for honesty and hospitality. The inhabitants mostly profess the Catholic faith, but have now no curate. They cultivate the soil, manufacture, and possess considerable quantities of stock. Their village is over 150 miles west of the Rio del Norte, on the waters of the Colorado of the West, and is believed to contain between 1,000 and 1,500 souls. The "seven Pueblos of Moqui" (as they are called) are a similar tribe living a few leagues beyond. They formerly acknowledged the government and religion of the Spaniards, but have long since rejected both, and live in a state of independence and paganism. Their dwellings, however, like those of Zuñi, are similar to those of the interior Pueblos, and they are equally industrious and agricultural, and still more ingenious in their manufacturing. The language of the Moquis or Moquinos is said to differ but little from that of the Navajoes.—Gregg.

Comment by Ed. For the Moki (properly Hopi), see Pattie's Narrative, in our volume xviii, p. 130, note 64. The articles by Frank H. Cushing in American Bureau of Ethnology Reports first directed attention to the Zuñi; consult also Bandelier, "Outline of Documentary History of Zuñi Tribe," in Journal of American Ethnology and Archæology (Boston, 1891-94), iii.

[20] On the linguistic stocks of the pueblos, consult our volume xix, p. 266, note 90 (Gregg).—Ed.

[21] Bandelier, "Final Report," Archæological Institute of America Papers, American Series, iii, pp. 121-136, considers the pueblo population at the time of the Spanish conquest to have been about twenty-five thousand. The present population of New Mexican pueblos, exclusive of the Moki, is about nine thousand.—Ed.

[22] The pueblo of Pecos was situated thirty miles southeast of Santa Fé, and at the close of the seventeenth century had a population of two thousand, being the largest pueblo in either New Mexico or Arizona. It was visited as early as 1540 by Alvarado, a lieutenant of Coronado. In 1598, the inhabitants rendered submission to Oñate, and a mission was established among them for which a large church was built in the seventeenth century, its ruins being still conspicuous. In the revolt of 1680 the Pecos remained neutral; but soon thereafter decline in numbers set in, and by 1837 but eighteen adults were left. A fever swept away the majority of these, when in 1840 the remnant of five men sold their lands to the government, and retired to their kinsmen at Jemez. A son of the tribe was found in 1880 among the Mexicans of the village of Pecos, a small, comparatively modern town. Bandelier discredits the Montezuma myth, which he considers a Spanish-Mexican importation. See Archæological Institute of America Papers, American Series, i, pp. 110-125. He found among the ruins, however, evidences of the existence of the sacred fire.—Ed.

[23] The Pueblo Indians still cling to many features of aboriginal worship. The sun-father and moon-mother are revered—not the orbs themselves, but the spiritual beings residing therein. Consult on this subject, Bandelier, op. cit., iii, pp. 276-316.—Ed.

[24] The office of the cacique is in essence religious; but as religion is interwoven with the entire life of the Pueblos, he is in a sense a civil official as well. He is chosen because of fitness, frequently on the nomination of his predecessor, and his education in the mysteries and secrets of his people is exacting. The office is for life, unless terminated by improper behavior, when the cacique may be deposed. The candidate sometimes declines the office because of the severity of the duties, which involve much fasting and abnegation.

The estufa is not always subterranean. It originated before the introduction of Christian family life, in a common home for the male members of the pueblo. It has become the council house of the tribe. Some pueblos contain more than one; unless rites are in progress, it is a bare, rude room usually unornamented. For details, consult John G. Bourke, Snake Dance of the Moquis of Arizona (New York, 1884).—Ed.

[25] Matrimonial relations among these people have been much modified by the introduction of Christianity, and the requirements of the friars, so that the monogamous family is now the rule among the sedentary Indians; although there are still in force certain clan restrictions in the choice of the mate.—Ed.

[26] Although the Pueblos have, since the subjugation of the Apache, engaged in no wars, a war-captain is each year selected by the cacique, who has, as Gregg relates, certain protective and religious functions.—Ed.

[27] Primary schools were established for several pueblos, about 1872, but met with opposition from priests, who did not desire Indian children to learn English. There are in the territory at present (1903), about eighteen day-schools, and two industrial boarding schools.—Ed.

[28] For a brief sketch of the history of Taos, see our volume xviii, p. 73, note 44. The Taos communal architecture is of the primitive type; after the Spanish conquest, the separate houses of the other pueblos were gradually adopted.—Ed.

[29] Picuries is one of the northern group. Like Taos, it is of Tiguan stock, and participated in the history of the region, being visited by one of Coronado's party in 1540. It yielded to Oñate in 1598, took part in the revolts of 1680 and 1696, and in the uprising against the Americans in 1848. The pueblo was formerly much larger than at present, its population now consisting of only about a hundred poor and rather unprogressive Indians. It is in Taos County about seventy miles north of Santa Fé.—Ed.

[30] Acoma is a Queres pueblo, built upon a cliff, about seventy miles southwest of Santa Fé, in Valencia County. Because of its inaccessibility, and the charm of its situation, it has been much noted. Coronado described it in his journey of 1540—see George P. Winship, Journey of Coronado (New York, 1904); and here a great battle was fought between Spaniards and Acomans in 1599. The pueblo took part in the revolts of 1680 and 1696; but has since lived quietly, and has at present a population of about six hundred.—Ed.

[31] The tilma of the North is a sort of small but durable blanket, worn by the Indians as a mantle.—Gregg.

[32] Recent authorities do not consider the decline of domestic arts a sign of deterioration among the Pueblos. They taught the Navaho to weave, and now purchase blankets from the latter. Pottery is still manufactured among the New Mexican pueblos. See on these subjects Washington Matthews, "Navaho Weavers," in U. S. Bureau of Ethnology Report, 1881-82, pp. 371-391; and William H. Holmes, "Pottery of the Ancient Pueblos," ibid., 1882-83, pp. 265-358.—Ed.

[33] The Pueblos still retain their native dress, which is picturesque, healthful, convenient, and often relatively costly—a woman's costume sometimes being worth as much as twenty-five dollars.—Ed.

[34] Pinole is in effect the cold-flour of our hunters. It is the meal of parched Indian corn, prepared for use by stirring it up with a little cold water. This food seems also to have been of ancient use among the aborigines of other parts of America. Father Charlevoix, in 1721, says of the savages about the northern lakes, that they "reduce [the maize] to Flour which they call Farine froide (cold Flour), and this is the best Provision that can be made for Travellers."—Gregg.

CHAPTER XV

The wild Tribes of New Mexico — Speculative Theories — Clavigero and the Azteques — Pueblo Bonito and other Ruins — Probable Relationship between the Azteques and tribes of New Mexico — The several Nations of this Province — Navajóes and Azteques — Manufactures of the former — Their Agriculture, Religion, etc. — Mexican Cruelty to the Indians and its Consequences — Inroads of the Navajóes — Exploits of a Mexican Army — How to make a Hole in a Powder-keg — The Apaches and their Character — Their Food — Novel Mode of settling Disputes — Range of their marauding Excursions — Indian Traffic and imbecile Treaties — Devastation of the Country — Chihuahua Rodomontades — Juan José, a celebrated Apache Chief, and his tragical End, etc. — Massacre of Americans in Retaliation — A tragical Episode — Proyecto de Guerra and a 'gallant' Display — The Yutas and their Hostilities — A personal Adventure with them, but no blood shed — Jicarillas.[toc]

All the Indians of New Mexico not denominated Pueblos—not professing the Christian religion—are ranked as wild tribes, although these include some who have made great advances in arts, manufactures and agriculture. Those who are at all acquainted with the ancient history of Mexico, will recollect that, according to the traditions of the aborigines, all the principal tribes of Anahuac descended from the North: and that those of Mexico, especially [p068] the Azteques, emigrated {283} from the north of California, or northwest of New Mexico. Clavigero, the famous historian heretofore alluded to,[35] speaking of this emigration, observes, that the Azteques, or Mexican Indians, who were the last settlers in the country of Anahuac, lived until about the year 1160 of the Christian era in Aztlan, a country situated to the north of the Gulf of California; as is inferred from the route of their peregrinations, and from the information afterwards acquired by the Spaniards in their expeditions through those countries. He then proceeds to show by what incentives they were probably induced to abandon their native land; adding that whatever may have been the motive, no doubt can possibly exist as to the journey's having actually been performed. He says that they travelled in a southeastwardly direction towards the Rio Gila, where they remained for some time—the ruins of their edifices being still to be seen, upon its banks. They then struck out for a point over two hundred and fifty miles to the northwest of Chihuahua in about 29° of N. latitude, where they made another halt. This place is known by the name of Casas Grandes[36] (big houses), on account of a large edifice which still stands on the spot, and which, according to the general tradition of those regions, was erected by the Mexican Indians, during their [p069] wanderings. The building is constructed after the plan of those in New Mexico, with three stories, covered with an azotea or terrace, and without door or entrance {284} into the lower story. A hand ladder is also used as a means of communication with the second story.

Even allowing that the traditions upon which Clavigero founded his theoretical deductions are vague and uncertain, there is sufficient evidence in the ruins that still exist to show that those regions were once inhabited by a far more enlightened people than are now to be found among the aborigines. Of such character are the ruins of Pueblo Bonito, in the direction of Navajó, on the borders of the Cordilleras; the houses being generally built of slabs of fine-grit sand-stone, a material utterly unknown in the present architecture of the North.[37] Although some of these structures are very massive and spacious, they are generally cut up into small irregular rooms, many of which yet remain entire, being still covered, with the vigas or joists remaining nearly sound under the azoteas of earth; and yet their age is such that there is no tradition which gives any account of their origin. But there have been no images or sculptured work of any kind found about them. Besides these, many other ruins (though none so perfect) are scattered over the plains and among the mountains. What is very remarkable is, that a portion of them are situated at a great distance from any water; so that the inhabitants must have depended entirely upon rain, as is the case with the Pueblo of Acoma at the present day.

The general appearance of Pueblo Bonito, {285} as well as that of the existing buildings of Moqui in the [p070] same mountainous regions, and other Pueblos of New Mexico, resembles so closely the ruins of Casas Grandes, that we naturally come to the conclusion that the founders of each must have descended from the same common stock. The present difference between their language and that of the Indians of Mexico, when we take into consideration the ages that have passed away since their separation, hardly presents any reasonable objection to this hypothesis.

The principal wild tribes which inhabit or extend their incursions or peregrinations upon the territory of New Mexico, are the Navajóes, the Apaches, the Yutas, the Caiguas or Kiawas, and the Comanches.[38] Of the latter I will speak in another place. The two first are from one and the same original stock, there being, even at the present day, no very important difference in their language. The Apaches are divided into numerous petty tribes, of one of which an insignificant band, called Jicarillas, inhabiting the mountains north of Taos, is an isolated and miserable remnant. [39]

The Navajóes are supposed to number about 10,000 souls, and though not the most numerous, they are certainly the most important, at least in a historical point of view, of all the northern tribes of Mexico. They reside in the main range of Cordilleras, 150 to 200 miles west of Santa Fé, on the waters of Rio Colorado of California, not far from the region, according to historians, from whence the [p071] {286} Azteques emigrated to Mexico; and there are many reasons to suppose them direct descendants from the remnant, which remained in the North, of this celebrated nation of antiquity. Although they mostly live in rude jacales, somewhat resembling the wigwams of the Pawnees, yet, from time immemorial, they have excelled all others in their original manufactures: and, as well as the Moquis, they are still distinguished for some exquisite styles of cotton textures, and display considerable ingenuity in embroidering with feathers the skins of animals, according to their primitive practice. They now also manufacture a singular species of blanket, known as the Sarape Navajó, which is of so close and dense a texture that it will frequently hold water almost equal to gum-elastic cloth. It is therefore highly prized for protection against the rains. Some of the finer qualities are often sold among the Mexicans as high as fifty or sixty dollars each.

Notwithstanding the present predatory and somewhat unsettled habits of the Navajóes, they cultivate all the different grains and vegetables to be found in New Mexico. They also possess extensive herds of horses, mules, cattle, sheep and goats of their own raising, which are generally celebrated as being much superior to those of the Mexicans; owing, no doubt, to greater attention to the improvement of their stocks.

Though Baron Humboldt [40] tells us that some missionaries were established among this tribe {287} prior to the general massacre of 1680, but few attempts to christianize them have since been made. They now remain in a state of primitive paganism—and not only independent of the Mexicans, but their most formidable enemies.[41] [p072]

After the establishment of the national independence, the government of New Mexico greatly embittered the disposition of the neighboring savages, especially the Navajoes, by repeated acts of cruelty and ill-faith well calculated to provoke hostilities. On one occasion, a party consisting of several chiefs and warriors of the Navajoes assembled at the Pueblo of Cochiti,[42] by invitation of the government, to celebrate a treaty of peace; when the New Mexicans, exasperated no doubt by the remembrance of former outrages, fell upon them unawares and put them all to death. It is also related, that about the same period, three Indians from the northern mountains having been brought as prisoners into Taos, they were peremptorily demanded by the Jicarillas, who were their bitterest enemies; when the Mexican authorities, dreading the resentment of this tribe, quietly complied with the barbarous request, suffering the prisoners to be butchered in cold blood before their very eyes! No wonder, then, that the New Mexicans are so generally warred upon by their savage neighbors.

About fifteen years ago, the Navajoes were subjected by the energy of Col. Vizcarra, who succeeded in keeping them in submission for {288} some time; but since that officer's departure from New Mexico, no man has been [p073] found of sufficient capacity to inspire this daring tribe either with respect or fear; so that for the last ten years they have ravaged the country with impunity, murdering and destroying just as the humor happened to prompt them. When the spring of the year approaches, terms of peace are generally proposed to the government at Santa Fé, which the latter never fails to accept. This amicable arrangement enables the wily Indians to sow their crops at leisure, and to dispose of the property stolen from the Mexicans during their marauding incursions, to advantage; but the close of their agricultural labors is generally followed by a renewal of hostilities, and the game of rapine and destruction is played over again.

Towards the close of 1835, a volunteer corps, which most of the leading men in New Mexico joined, was raised for the purpose of carrying war into the territory of the Navajoes. The latter hearing of their approach, and anxious no doubt to save them the trouble of so long a journey, mustered a select band of their warriors, who went forth to intercept the invaders in a mountain pass, where they lay concealed in an ambuscade. The valiant corps, utterly unconscious of the reception that awaited them, soon came jogging along in scattered groups, indulging in every kind of boisterous mirth; when the war-whoop, loud and shrill, followed by several shots, threw them all into a state of speechless consternation. {289} Some tumbled off their horses with fright, others fired their muskets at random: a terrific panic had seized everybody, and some minutes elapsed before they could recover their senses sufficiently to betake themselves to their heels. Two or three persons were killed in this ridiculous engagement, the most conspicuous of whom was a Capt. Hinófos, who commanded the regular troops. [43] [p074]

A very curious but fully authentic anecdote may not be inappropriately inserted here, in which this individual was concerned. On one occasion, being about to start on a belligerent expedition, he directed his orderly-sergeant to fill a powder-flask from an unbroached keg of twenty-five pounds. The sergeant, having bored a hole with a gimlet, and finding that the powder issued too slowly, began to look about for something to enlarge the aperture, when his eyes haply fell upon an iron poker which lay in a corner of the fire-place. To heat the poker and apply it to the hole in the keg was the work of but a few moments; when an explosion took place which blew the upper part of the building into the street, tearing and shattering everything else to atoms. Miraculous as their escape may appear, the sergeant, as well as the captain who witnessed the whole operation, remained more frightened than hurt, although they were both very severely scorched and bruised. This ingenious sergeant was afterwards Secretary of State to Gov. Gonzalez, of revolutionary {290} memory,[44] and has nearly ever since held a clerkship in some of the offices of state, but is now captain in the regular army.

I come now to speak of the Apaches, the most extensive and powerful, yet the most vagrant of all the savage nations that inhabit the interior of Northern Mexico. They are supposed to number some fifteen thousand souls, although they are subdivided into various petty bands, and scattered over an immense tract of country. Those that are found east of the Rio del Norte are generally known as Mezcaleros, on account of an article of food much in use among them, called mezcal,[45] but by far the greatest portion of the nation is located in the west, and is mostly known by the sobriquet [p075] of Coyoteros, in consequence, it is said, of their eating the coyote or prairie-wolf.[46] The Apaches are perhaps more given to itinerant habits than any other tribe in Mexico. They never construct houses, but live in the ordinary wigwam, or tent of skins and blankets. They manufacture nothing—cultivate nothing: they seldom resort to the chase, as their country is destitute of game—but depend almost entirely upon pillage for the support of their immense population, some two or three thousand of which are warriors.

For their food, the Apaches rely chiefly upon the flesh of the cattle and sheep they can steal from the Mexican ranchos and haciendas. They are said, however, to be more fond of {291} the meat of the mule than that of any other animal. I have seen about encampments which they had recently left, the remains of mules that had been slaughtered for their consumption. Yet on one occasion I saw their whole trail, for many miles, literally strewed with the carcasses of these animals, which, it was evident, had not been killed for this purpose. It is the practice of the Apache chiefs, as I have understood, whenever a dispute arises betwixt their warriors relative to the ownership of any particular animal, to kill the brute at once, though it be the most valuable of the drove; and so check all further cavil. It was to be inferred from the number of dead mules they left behind them, that the most harmonious relations could not have existed between the members of the tribe, at least during this period of their journeyings. Like most of the savage tribes of North America, the Apaches are passionately fond of spirituous liquors, and may frequently be seen, in times [p076] of peace, lounging about the Mexican villages, in a state of helpless inebriety.

The range of this marauding tribe extends over some portions of California, most of Sonora, the frontiers of Durango, and at certain seasons it even reaches Coahuila: Chihuahua, however, has been the mournful theatre of their most constant depredations. Every nook and corner of this once flourishing state has been subjected to their inroads. Such is the imbecility of the local governments, that the savages, in order to dispose of {292} their stolen property without even a shadow of molestation, frequently enter into partial treaties of peace with one department, while they continue to wage a war of extermination against the neighboring states. This arrangement supplies them with an ever-ready market, for the disposal of their booty and the purchase of munitions wherewith to prosecute their work of destruction. In 1840, I witnessed the departure from Santa Fé of a large trading party freighted with engines of war and a great quantity of whiskey, intended for the Apaches in exchange for mules and other articles of plunder which they had stolen from the people of the south. This traffic was not only tolerated but openly encouraged by the civil authorities, as the highest public functionaries were interested in its success—the governor himself not excepted.

The Apaches, now and then, propose a truce to the government of Chihuahua, which is generally accepted very nearly upon their own terms. It has on some occasions been included that the marauders should have a bonâ fide right to all their stolen property. A venta or quit-claim brand, has actually been marked by the government upon large numbers of mules and horses which the Indians had robbed from the citizens. It is hardly necessary to add that these truces have rarely been observed by the wily savages longer than [p077] the time necessary for the disposal of their plunder. As soon as more mules were needed for service or for traffic—more cattle for beef—more {293} scalps for the war-dance—they would invariably return to their deeds of ravage and murder.

The depredations of the Apaches have been of such long duration, that, beyond the immediate purlieus of the towns, the whole country from New Mexico to the borders of Durango is almost entirely depopulated. The haciendas and ranchos have been mostly abandoned, and the people chiefly confined to towns and cities. To such a pitch has the temerity of those savages reached, that small bands of three or four warriors have been known to make their appearance within a mile of the city of Chihuahua in open day, killing the laborers and driving off whole herds of mules and horses without the slightest opposition. Occasionally a detachment of troops is sent in pursuit of the marauders, but for no other purpose, it would seem, than to illustrate the imbecility of the former, as they are always sure to make a precipitate retreat, generally without even obtaining a glimpse of the enemy.[47] And yet the columns of a little weekly sheet published in Chihuahua always teem with flaming accounts of prodigious feats of valor performed by the 'army of operations' against los bárbaros: showing how "the enemy was pursued with all possible vigor"—how the soldiers "displayed the greatest {294} bravery, and the most unrestrainable desire to overhaul the dastards," and by what extraordinary combinations of adverse circumstances they were "compelled to relinquish the pursuit." Indeed, it would be difficult to find a braver race of people than the [p078] Chihuahueños[48] contrive to make themselves appear upon paper. When intelligence was received in Chihuahua of the famous skirmish with the French, at Vera Cruz, in which Santa Anna acquired the glory of losing a leg,[49] the event was celebrated with uproarious demonstrations of joy; and the next number of the Noticioso[50] contained a valiant fanfaronade, proclaiming to the world the astounding fact, that one Mexican was worth four French soldiers in battle: winding up with a "Cancion Patriótica," of which the following exquisite verse was the refrain:

"Chihuahuenses, la Patria gloriosa
Otro timbre á su lustre ha añadido;
Pues la, ıuʌıɔʇɐ lɐ פɐlıɐ ıupoɯɐqlǝ
Al valor mexicano ha cedido."

Literally translated:

Chihuahuenses! our glorious country
Another ray has added to her lustre;
For the invincible, indomitable Gallia
Has succumbed to Mexican valor.

By the inverted letters of "invicta, la Galia indomable," in the third line, the poet gives {295} the world to understand that the kingdom of the Gauls had at length been whirled topsy-turvy, by the glorious achievements of el valor Mexicano!

From what has been said of the ravages of the Apaches, one would be apt to believe them an exceedingly brave people; but the Mexicans themselves call them cowards when compared with the Comanches; and we are wont to look upon the latter as perfect specimens of poltroonery when brought [p079] in conflict with the Shawnees, Delawares, and the rest of our border tribes.[51]

There was once a celebrated chief called Juan José at the head of this tribe, whose extreme cunning and audacity caused his name to be dreaded throughout the country. What contributed more than anything else to render him a dangerous enemy, was the fact of his having received a liberal education at Chihuahua, which enabled him, when he afterwards rejoined his tribe, to outwit his pursuers, and, by robbing the mails, to acquire timely information of every expedition that was set on foot against him. The following account of the massacre in which he fell may not be altogether uninteresting to the reader.

The government of Sonora, desirous to make some efforts to check the depredations of the Apaches, issued a proclamation, giving a sort of carte blanche patent of 'marque and reprisal,' and declaring all the booty that might be taken from the savages to be the rightful property of the captors. Accordingly, in the {296} spring of 1837, a party of some 20 men composed chiefly of foreigners, spurred on by the love of gain, and never doubting but the Indians, after so many years of successful robberies, must be possessed of a vast amount of property, set out with an American as their commander, who had long resided in the country.[52] In a few days they reached a ranchería of about fifty warriors with their families, among whom was the [p080] famous Juan José himself, and three other principal chiefs. On seeing the Americans advance, the former at once gave them to understand, that, if they had come to fight, they were ready to accommodate them; but on being assured by the leader, that they were merely bent on a trading expedition, a friendly interview was immediately established between the parties. The American captain having determined to put these obnoxious chiefs to death under any circumstances, soon caused a little field-piece which had been concealed from the Indians to be loaded with chain and canister shot, and to be held in readiness for use. The warriors were then invited to the camp to receive a present of flour, which was placed within range of the cannon. While they were occupied in dividing the contents of the bag, they were fired upon and a considerable number of their party killed on the spot! The remainder were then attacked with small arms, and about twenty slain, including Juan José and the other chiefs. Those who escaped became afterwards their own avengers in a {297} manner which proved terribly disastrous to another party of Americans, who happened at the time to be trapping on Rio Gila not far distant. The enraged savages resolved to take summary vengeance upon these unfortunate trappers; and falling upon them, massacred them every one![53] They were in all, including several Mexicans, about fifteen in number. [54] [p081]

The projector of this scheme had probably been under the impression that treachery was justifiable against a treacherous enemy. He also believed, no doubt, that the act would be highly commended by the Mexicans who had suffered so much from the depredations of these notorious chiefs. But in this he was sadly mistaken; for the affair was received with general reprehension, although the Mexicans had been guilty of similar deeds themselves, as the following brief episode will sufficiently show.

In the summer of 1839, a few Apache prisoners, among whom was the wife of a distinguished {298} chief, were confined in the calabozo of Paso del Norte. The bereaved chief, hearing of their captivity, collected a band of about sixty warriors, and, boldly entering the town, demanded the release of his consort and friends. The commandant of the place wishing to gain time, desired them to return the next morning, when their request would be granted. During the night the forces of the country were concentrated; notwithstanding, when the Apaches reappeared, the troops did not show their faces, but remained concealed, while the Mexican commandant strove to beguile the Indians into the prison, under pretence of delivering to them their friends. The unsuspecting chief and twenty others were entrapped in this manner, and treacherously dispatched in cold blood: not, however, without some loss to the Mexicans, who had four or five of their men killed in the fracas. Among these was the commandant himself, who had no sooner given the word, "¡Maten á los carajos!" (kill the scoundrels!) than the chief retorted, [p082] "¡Entónces morirás tu primero, carajo!" (then you shall die first, carajo!) and immediately stabbed him to the heart!

But as New Mexico is more remote from the usual haunts of the Apaches, and, in fact, as her scanty ranchos present a much less fruitful field for their operations than the abundant haciendas of the South, the depredations of this tribe have extended but little upon that province. The only serious incursion that has come within my knowledge, was some ten {299} years ago. A band of Apache warriors boldly approached the town of Socorro [55] on the southern border, when a battle ensued between them and the Mexican force, composed of a company of regular troops and all the militia of the place. The Mexicans were soon completely routed and chased into the very streets, suffering a loss of thirty-three killed and several wounded. The savages bore away their slain, yet their loss was supposed to be but six or seven. I happened to be in the vicinity of the catastrophe the following day, when the utmost consternation prevailed among the inhabitants, who were in hourly expectation of another descent from the savages.

Many schemes have been devised from time to time, particularly by the people of Chihuahua, to check the ravages of the Indians, but generally without success. Among these the notorious Proyecto de Guerra, adopted in 1837, stands most conspicuous. By this famous 'war-project' a scale of rewards was established, to be paid out of a fund raised for that purpose. A hundred dollars reward were offered for the scalp of a full grown man, fifty for that of a squaw, and twenty-five for that of every papoose! To the credit of the republic, however, this barbarous proyecto was in operation but a few weeks, and [p083] never received the sanction of the general government; although it was strongly advocated by some of the most intelligent citizens of Chihuahua. Yet, pending its existence, it was rigidly complied with. I saw myself, on one {300} occasion, a detachment of horsemen approach the Palacio in Chihuahua, preceded by their commanding officer, who bore a fresh scalp upon the tip of his lance, which he waved high in the air in exultation of his exploit! The next number of our little newspaper contained the official report of the affair. The soldiers were pursuing a band of Apaches, when they discovered a squaw who had lagged far behind in her endeavors to bear away her infant babe. They dispatched the mother without commiseration and took her scalp, which was the one so 'gallantly' displayed as already mentioned! The officer concluded his report by adding, that the child had died not long after it was made prisoner.

The Yutas (or Eutaws, as they are generally styled by Americans) are one of the most extensive nations of the West, being scattered from the north of New Mexico to the borders of Snake river and Rio Colorado, and numbering at least ten thousand souls. The habits of the tribe are altogether itinerant. A band of about a thousand spend their winters mostly in the mountain valleys northward of Taos, and the summer season generally in the prairie plains to the east, hunting buffalo. The vernacular language of the Yutas is said to be distantly allied to that of the Navajoes, but it has appeared to me much more guttural, having a deep sepulchral sound resembling ventriloquism. Although these Indians are nominally at peace with the New Mexican government, they do not hesitate to lay {301} the hunters and traders who happen to fall in with their scouring parties under severe contributions; and on some occasions they have been known to proceed [p084] even to personal violence. A prominent Mexican officer [56] was scourged not long ago by a party of Yutas, and yet the government has never dared to resent the outrage. Their hostilities, however, have not been confined to Mexican traders, as will be perceived by the sequel.

In the summer of 1837, a small party of but five or six Shawnees fell in with a large band of Yutas near the eastern borders of the Rocky Mountains, south of Arkansas river. At first they were received with every demonstration of friendship; but the Yutas, emboldened no doubt by the small number of their visitors, very soon concluded to relieve them of whatever surplus property they might be possessed of. The Shawnees, however, much to the astonishment of the marauders, instead of quietly surrendering their goods and chattels, offered to defend them; upon which a skirmish ensued that actually cost the Yutas several of their men, including a favorite chief; while the Shawnees made their escape unhurt toward their eastern homes.

A few days after this event, and while the Yutas were still bewailing the loss of their people, I happened to pass near their rancherías (temporary village) with a small caravan which mustered about thirty-five men. We {302} had hardly pitched our camp, when they began to flock about us—men, squaws, and papooses—in great numbers; but the warriors were sullen and reserved, only now and then muttering a curse upon the Americans on account of the treatment they had just received from the Shawnees, whom they considered as half-castes, and our allies. All of a sudden, a young warrior seized a splendid steed which belonged to our party, and, leaping upon his back, galloped [p085] off at full speed. Being fully convinced that, by acquiescing in this outrage, we should only encourage them to commit others, we resolved at once to make a peremptory demand for the stolen horse of their principal chief. Our request being treated with contumely, we sent in a warlike declaration, and forthwith commenced making preparations for descending upon the rancherías. The war-whoop resounded immediately in every direction; and as the Yutas bear a very high character for bravery and skill, the readiness with which they seemed to accept our challenge began to alarm our party considerably. We had defied them to mortal combat merely by way of bravado, without the least expectation that they would put themselves to so much inconvenience on our account. It was too late, however, to back out of the scrape.

No sooner had the alarm been given than the rancherías of the Indians were converted into a martial encampment; and while the mounted warriors were exhibiting their preliminary {303} feats of horsemanship, the squaws and papooses flew like scattered partridges to the rocks and clefts of a contiguous precipice. One-third of our party being Mexicans, the first step of the Indians was to proclaim a general indulto to them, in hopes of reducing our force, scanty as it was already. "My Mexican friends," exclaimed in good Spanish, a young warrior who daringly rode up within a few rods of us, "we don't wish to hurt you; so leave those Americans, for we intend to kill every one of them." The Mexicans of our party to whom this language was addressed, being rancheros of some mettle, only answered, "Al diablo! we have not forgotten how you treat us when you catch us alone: now that we are with Americans who will defend their rights, expect ample [p086] retaliation for past insults." In truth, these rancheros seemed the most anxious to begin the fight,—a remarkable instance of the effects of confidence in companions.

A crisis seemed now fast approaching: two swivels we had with us were levelled and primed, and the matches lighted. Every man was at his post, with his rifle ready for execution, each anxious to do his best, whatever might be the result; when the Indians, seeing us determined to embrace the chances of war, began to open negotiations. An aged squaw, said to be the mother of the principal chief, rode up and exclaimed, "My sons! the Americans and Yutas have been friends, and our old men wish to continue so: it is only a {304} few impetuous and strong-headed youths who want to fight." The stolen horse having been restored soon after this harangue, peace was joyfully proclaimed throughout both encampments, and the capitanes exchanged ratifications by a social smoke.

The little tribe of Jicarillas also harbored an enmity for the Americans, which, in 1834, broke out into a hostile rencontre. They had stolen some animals of a gallant young backwoodsman from Missouri, who, with a few comrades, pursued the marauders into the mountains and regained his property; and a fracas ensuing, an Indian or two were killed. A few days afterward all their warriors visited Santa Fé in a body, and demanded of the authorities there, the delivery of the American offenders to their vengeance. Though the former showed quite a disposition to gratify the savages as far as practicable, they had not helpless creatures to deal with, as in the case of the Indian prisoners already related. The foreigners, seeing their protection devolved upon themselves, prepared for defence, when the savages were fain to depart in peace.

CHAPTER XVI

Incidents of a Return Trip from Santa Fé — Calibre of our Party — Return Caravans — Remittances — Death of Mr. Langham — Burial in the Desert — A sudden Attack — Confusion in the Camp — A Wolfish Escort — Scarcity of Buffalo — Unprofitable Delusion — Arrival — Table of Camping Sites and Distances — Condition of the Town of Independence — The Mormons — Their Dishonesty and Immorality — Their high-handed Measures, and a Rising of the People — A fatal Skirmish — A chivalrous Parade of the Citizens — Expulsion of the Mormons — The Meteoric Shower, and Superstition, etc. — Wanderings and Improprieties of the 'Latter-day Saints' — Gov. Boggs' Recipe — The City of Nauvoo — Contemplated Retribution of the Mormons.[toc]

I do not propose to detain the reader with an account of my journeyings between Mexico and the United States, during the seven years subsequent to my first arrival at Santa Fé. I will here merely remark, that I crossed the plains to the United States in the falls of 1833 and 1836, and returned to Santa Fé with goods each succeeding spring. It was only in 1838, however, that I eventually closed up my affairs in Northern Mexico, and prepared to take my leave of the country, as I then supposed, forever. But in this I was mistaken, as will appear in the sequel.

The most usual season for the return of the {306} caravans to the United States is the autumn, and not one has elapsed since the commencement of the trade which has not witnessed some departure from Santa Fé with that destination. They have also crossed occasionally in the spring, but without any regularity or frequency, and generally in very small parties. Even the 'fall companies,' in fact, are small when compared with the outward-bound caravans; for besides the numbers who remain permanently in the country, many of those who trade southward return to the United States via Matamoros or some other Southern port. The return parties of autumn are therefore comparatively small, varying in number from fifty to a hundred [p088] men. They leave Santa Fé some four or five weeks after their arrival—generally about the first of September. In these companies there are rarely over thirty or forty wagons; for a large portion of those taken out by the annual caravans are disposed of in the country.

Some of the traders who go out in the spring, return the ensuing fall, because they have the good fortune to sell off their stock promptly and to advantage: others are compelled to return in the fall to save their credit; nay, to preserve their homes, which, especially in the earlier periods, have sometimes been mortgaged to secure the payment of the merchandise they carried out with them. In such cases, their goods were not unfrequently sold at great sacrifice, to avoid the penalties which the breaking of their engagements at home {307} would involve. New adventurers, too, are apt to become discouraged with an unanticipated dullness of times, and not unfrequently sell off at wholesale for the best price they can get, though often at a serious loss. But those who are regularly engaged in this trade usually calculate upon employing a season—perhaps a year, in closing an enterprise—in selling off their goods and making their returns.

The wagons of the return caravans are generally but lightly laden: one to two thousand pounds constitute the regular return cargo for a single wagon; for not only are the teams unable to haul heavy loads, on account of the decay of pasturage at this season, but the approaching winter compels the traders to travel in greater haste; so that this trip is usually made in about forty days. The amount of freight, too, from that direction is comparatively small. The remittances, as has already been mentioned, are chiefly in specie, or gold and silver bullion. The gold is mostly dust, from the Placer or gold mine near Santa Fé:[57] [p089] the silver bullion is all from the mines of the South—chiefly from those of Chihuahua. To these returns may be added a considerable number of mules and asses—some buffalo rugs, furs, and wool,—which last barely pays a return freight for the wagons that would otherwise be empty. Coarse Mexican blankets, which may be obtained in exchange for merchandise, have been sold in small quantities to advantage on our border.

{308} On the 4th of April, 1838, we departed from Santa Fé. Our little party was found to consist of twenty-three Americans, with twelve Mexican servants. We had seven wagons, one dearborn, and two small field-pieces, besides a large assortment of small-arms. The principal proprietors carried between them about $150,000 in specie and bullion, being for the most part the proceeds of the previous year's adventure.

We moved on at a brisk and joyous pace until we reached Ocaté creek, a tributary of the Colorado,[58] a distance of a hundred and thirty miles from Santa Fé, where we encountered a very sudden bereavement in the death of Mr. Langham, one of our most respected proprietors. This gentleman was known to be in weak health, but no fears were entertained for his safety. We were all actively engaged in assisting the more heavily laden wagons over the miry stream, when he was seized with a fit of apoplexy and expired instantly. As we had not the means of giving the deceased a decent burial, we were compelled to consign him to the earth in a shroud of blankets. A grave was accordingly dug on an elevated spot near the north bank of the creek, and on the morning of the 13th, ere the sun had risen in the east, the mortal remains of this most worthy [p090] man and valued friend were deposited in their last abode,—without a tomb-stone to consecrate the spot, or an epitaph to commemorate his virtues. The deceased was from St. Louis, {309} though he had passed the last eleven years of his life in Santa Fé, during the whole of which period he had seen neither his home nor his relatives.

The melancholy rites being concluded, we resumed our line of march. We now continued for several days without the occurrence of any important accident or adventure. On the 19th we encamped in the Cimarron valley, about twelve miles below the Willow Bar. The very sight of this desolate region, frequented as it is by the most savage tribes of Indians, was sufficient to strike dismay into the hearts of our party; but as we had not as yet encountered any of them, we felt comparatively at ease. Our mules and horses were 'staked' as usual around the wagons, and every man, except the watch, betook himself to his blanket, in anticipation of a good night's rest. The hour of midnight had passed away, and nothing had been heard except the tramping of the men on guard, and the peculiar grating of the mules' teeth, nibbling the short grass of the valley. Ere long, however, one of our sentinels got a glimpse of some object moving stealthily along, and as he was straining his eyes to ascertain what sort of apparition it could be, a loud Indian yell suddenly revealed the mystery. This was quickly followed by a discharge of fire-arms, and the shrill note of the 'Pawnee whistle,' which at once made known the character of our visitors. As usual, the utmost confusion prevailed in our camp: some, who had been snatched {310} from the land of dreams, ran their heads against the wagons—others called out for their guns while they had them in their hands. During the height of the bustle and uproar, a Mexican servant was observed leaning with his back against a wagon, and his fusil elevated at an [p091] angle of forty-five degrees, cocking and pulling the trigger without ceasing, and exclaiming at every snap, "Carajo, no sirve!"—Curse it, it's good for nothing.

The firing still continued—the yells grew fiercer and more frequent; and everything betokened the approach of a terrible conflict. Meanwhile a number of persons were engaged in securing the mules and horses which were staked around the encampment; and in a few minutes they were all shut up in the corral—a hundred head or more in a pen formed by seven wagons. The enemy failing in their principal object—to frighten off our stock, they soon began to retreat; and in a few minutes nothing more was to be heard of them. All that we could discover the next morning was, that none of our party had sustained any injury, and that we had not lost a single animal.

The Pawnees have been among the most formidable and treacherous enemies of the Santa Fé traders. But the former have also suffered a little in turn from the caravans. In 1832, a company of traders were approached by a single Pawnee chief, who commenced a parley with them, when he was shot down by a Pueblo Indian of New Mexico who happened {311} to be with the caravan. Though this cruel act met with the decided reprobation of the traders generally, yet they were of course held responsible for it by the Indians.

On our passage this time across the 'prairie ocean' which lay before us, we ran no risk of getting bewildered or lost, for there was now a plain wagon trail across the entire stretch of our route, from the Cimarron to Arkansas river.

This track, which has since remained permanent, was made in the year 1834. Owing to continuous rains during the passage of the caravan of that year, a plain trail was then cut in the softened turf, on the most direct route across [p092] this arid desert, leaving the Arkansas about twenty miles above the 'Caches.' This has ever since been the regular route of the caravans; and thus a recurrence of those distressing sufferings from thirst, so frequently experienced by early travellers in that inhospitable region, has been prevented.

We forded the Arkansas without difficulty, and pursued our journey to the Missouri border with comparative ease; being only now and then disturbed at night by the hideous howling of wolves, a pack of which had constituted themselves into a kind of 'guard of honor,' and followed in our wake for several hundred miles—in fact to the very border of the settlements. They were at first attracted no doubt by the remains of buffalo which were killed by us upon the high plains, and {312} afterwards enticed on by an occasional fagged animal, which we were compelled to leave behind, as well as by the bones and scraps of food, which they picked up about our camps. Not a few of them paid the penalty of their lives for their temerity.

Had we not fortunately been supplied with a sufficiency of meat and other provisions, we might have suffered of hunger before reaching the settlements; for we saw no buffalo after crossing the Arkansas river. It is true that, owing to their disrelish for the long dry grass of the eastern prairies, the buffalo are rarely found so far east in autumn as during the spring; yet I never saw them so scarce in this region before. In fact, at all seasons, they are usually very abundant as far east as our point of leaving the Arkansas river.

Upon reaching the settlements, I had an opportunity of experiencing a delusion which had been the frequent subject of remark by travellers on the Prairies before. Accustomed as we had been for some months to our little mules, and the equally small-sized Mexican ponies, our [p093] sight became so adjusted to their proportions, that when we came to look upon the commonest hackney of our frontier horses, it appeared to be almost a monster. I have frequently heard exclamations of this kind from the new arrivals:—"How the Missourians have improved their breed of horses!"—"What a huge gelding!"—"Did you ever see such an animal!" This delusion is frequently availed of by the frontiersmen {313} to put off their meanest horses to these deluded travellers for the most enormous prices.

On the 11th of May we arrived at Independence, after a propitious journey of only thirty-eight days.[59] We found the town in a thriving condition, although it had come very near being laid waste a few years before by the [p094] Mormons, who had originally selected this section of the country for the site of their New Jerusalem. In this they certainly displayed far more taste and good sense than they are generally supposed to be endowed {314} with: for the rich and beautiful uplands in the vicinity of Independence might well be denominated the 'garden spot' of the Far West. Their principal motive for preferring the border country, however, was no doubt a desire to be in the immediate vicinity of the Indians, as the reclamation of the 'Lost tribes of Israel' was a part of their pretended mission.

Prior to 1833, the Mormons, who were then flocking in great swarms to this favored region, had made considerable purchases of lots and tracts of land both in the town of Independence and in the adjacent country. A general depot, profanely styled the 'Lord's Store,' was established, from which the faithful were supplied with merchandise at moderate prices; while those who possessed any surplus of property were expected to deposit it in the same, for the benefit of the mass. The Mormons were at first kindly received by the good people of the country, who looked upon them as a set of harmless fanatics, very susceptible of being moulded into good and honest citizens. This confidence, however, was not destined to remain long in the ascendant, for they soon began to find that the corn in their cribs was sinking like snow before the sun-rays, and that their hogs and their cattle were by some mysterious agency rapidly disappearing. The new-comers also drew upon themselves much animadversion in consequence of the immorality of their lives, and in particular their disregard for the sacred rites of marriage.

{315} Still they continued to spread and multiply, not by conversion but by immigration, to an alarming extent; and in proportion as they grew strong in numbers, they [p095] also became more exacting and bold in their pretensions. In a little paper printed at Independence under their immediate auspices,[60] everything was said that could provoke hostility between the 'saints' and their 'worldly' neighbors, until at last they became so emboldened by impunity, as openly to boast of their determination to be the sole proprietors of the 'Land of Zion;' a revelation to that effect having been made to their prophet.

The people now began to perceive, that, at the rate the intruders were increasing, they would soon be able to command a majority of the country, and consequently the entire control of affairs would fall into their hands. It was evident, then, that one of the two parties would in the course of time have to abandon the country; for the old settlers could not think of bringing up their families in the midst of such a corrupt state of society as the Mormons were establishing. Still the nuisance was endured very patiently, and without any attempt at retaliation, until the 'saints' actually threatened to eject their opponents by main force. This last stroke of impudence at once roused the latent spirit of the honest backwoodsmen, some of whom were of the pioneer settlers of Missouri, and had become familiar with danger in their terrific wars with the savages. They were therefore by no {316} means appropriate subjects for yielding what they believed to be their rights. Meetings were held for the purpose of devising means of redress, which only tended to increase the insolence of the Mormons. Finally a mob was collected which proceeded at once to raze the obnoxious printing establishment to the ground, and to destroy all the materials they could lay hands upon. One or two of the Mormon leaders who fell into the hands of the people, were treated [p096] to a clean suit of 'tar and feathers,' and otherwise severely punished.[61] The 'Prophet Joseph,' however, was not then in the neighborhood. Having observed the storm-clouds gathering apace in the frontier horizon, he very wisely remained in Ohio, whence he issued his flaming mandates.

These occurrences took place in the month of October, 1833, and I reached Independence from Santa Fé while the excitement was raging at its highest. The Mormons had rallied some ten miles west of the town, where their strongest settlements were located. A hostile encounter was hourly expected: nay, a skirmish actually took place shortly after, in which a respectable lawyer of Independence, who had been an active agent against the Mormons, was killed. In short, the whole country was in a state of dreadful fermentation.

Early on the morning after the skirmish just referred to, a report reached Independence that the Mormons were marching in a {317} body towards the town, with the intention of sacking and burning it. I had often heard the cry of "Indians!" announcing the approach of hostile savages, but I do not remember ever to have witnessed so much consternation as prevailed at Independence on this memorable occasion. The note of alarm was sounded far and near, and armed men, eager for the fray, were rushing in from every quarter. Officers were summarily selected without deference to rank or station: the 'spirit-stirring drum' and the 'ear-piercing fife' made the air resound with music, and a little army of as brave and resolute a set of fellows as ever trod a field of battle, was, in a very short time, paraded through the streets. After a few preliminary exercises, they started for a certain point on the road where they intended to await the approach of the Mormons. [p097] The latter very soon made their appearance, but surprised at meeting with so formidable a reception, they never even attempted to pull a trigger, but at once surrendered at discretion. They were immediately disarmed, and subsequently released upon condition of their leaving the country without delay.

It was very soon after this affair that the much talked of phenomenon of the meteoric shower (on the night of November 12th) occurred. This extraordinary visitation did not fail to produce its effects upon the superstitious minds of a few ignorant people, who began to wonder whether, after all, the Mormons might not be in the right; and whether this was not a sign sent from heaven as a remonstrance for the injustice they had been guilty of towards that chosen sect.[62] Sometime afterward, a terrible misfortune occurred which was in no way calculated to allay the superstitious fears of the ignorant. As some eight or ten citizens were returning with the ferry-boat which had crossed the last Mormons over the Missouri river, into Clay county, the district selected for their new home, the craft filled with water and sunk in the middle of the current; by which accident three or four men were drowned![63] It was owing perhaps to the craziness of the boat, yet some persons suspected the Mormons of having scuttled it by secretly boring auger-holes in the bottom just before they had left it.

After sojourning a few months in Clay county, to the serious annoyance of the inhabitants (though, in fact, they [p098] had been kindly received at first), the persecuted 'Latter day Saints' were again compelled to shift their quarters further off. They now sought to establish themselves in the new country of Caldwell, and founded their town of Far West, where they lingered in comparative peace for a few years.[64] As the county began to fill up with settlers however, quarrels repeatedly {319} broke out, until at last, in 1838, they found themselves again at open war with their neighbors. They appear to have set the laws of the state at defiance, and to have acted so turbulently throughout, that Governor Boggs deemed it necessary to order out a large force of state militia to subject them: which was easily accomplished without bloodshed. From that time the Mormons have harbored a mortal enmity towards the Governor: and the attempt which was afterwards made to assassinate him at Independence, is generally believed to have been instigated, if not absolutely perpetrated, by that deluded sect.[65]

Being once more forced to emigrate, they passed into Illinois, where they founded the famous 'City of Nauvoo.' It would seem that their reception from the people of this state was even more strongly marked with kindness and indulgence than it had been elsewhere, being generally looked upon as the victims of persecution on account of [p099] their religious belief; yet it appears that the good people of Illinois have since become about as tired of them as were any of their former neighbors.[66] It seems very clear then, that fanatical delusion is not the only sin which stamps the conduct of these people with so much obliquity, or they would certainly have found permanent friends somewhere; whereas it is well known that a general aversion has prevailed against them wherever they have sojourned.

Before concluding this chapter, it may be {320} proper to remark, that the Mormons have invariably refused to sell any of the property they had acquired in Missouri, but have on the contrary expressed a firm determination to reconquer their lost purchases.[67] Of these, a large lot, situated on an elevated point at Independence, known as the 'Temple Lot,' upon which the 'Temple of Zion' was to have been raised,—has lately been 'profaned,' by cultivation, having been converted into a corn-field!

FOOTNOTES:

[35] See our volume xix, p. 293, note 116 (Gregg).—Ed.

[36] The Casa Grande ruin in Pinal County, Arizona, just south of Gila River, has been known to antiquarians since the first discovery of the region. The earliest detailed description was written after the visit of Father Kuehne (Kino) in 1694. American explorers noted it during the passage of 1846; Bartlett's description of 1854 was the most faithful. For recent accounts, see Cosmos Mindeleff, in U. S. Bureau of Ethnology Reports, 1891-92, pp. 295-361; 1893-94, pp. 321-349. In 1889 congress appropriated funds for its preservation and repair, and in 1892 set it apart as a public reservation. Modern archæologists discredit any connection of its builders with Mexican Aztecs. It is a work of Pueblo Indians, probably of the ancestors of the modern Pima—see our volume xviii, p. 200, note 96. This ruin should not be confused with one of a like name in Northern Mexico, for which see volume xviii of our series, p. 155, note 88.—Ed.

[37] It is uncertain to which ruin Gregg here refers. That of Cebolitta, not far from Acoma, answers his description as built of sandstone. There is a small ruin at Ojos Bonitos, not far from Zuñi, that may be intended; but the more probable is the former, on the well-known trace between Acoma and Zuñi, and of remarkably good workmanship in stone.—Ed.

[38] For the Navaho, Apache, and Ute tribes, see our volume xviii, p. 69 (note 41), p. 109 (note 60), p. 140 (note 70); for the Kiowa, volume xv, p. 157, note 48; for the Comanche, volume xvi, p. 233, note 109.—Ed.

[39] The Jicarrilla (Xicarrilla) are of Athapascan stock, but from the similarity of their language are classed as Apache, although they are not known to have had any tribal connection with them. Their alliance was more frequently with the Ute, with whom they intermarried, and whose customs they assimilated. They were a predatory race, and from their vantage ground on the upper waters of the Rio Grande, Pecos, and Canadian, caused much annoyance. They are now located on a reservation in Rio Arriba County, and number about seven hundred and fifty.—Ed.

[40] For Humboldt, see our volume xviii, p. 345, note 136.—Ed.

[41] The Navaho were friendly with the Spaniards until about 1700, when they began depredations and cattle lifting, and frequent campaigns against them were undertaken. In 1744 a mission was attempted among them, which was abandoned after six years' futile efforts. Serious difficulties, however, did not recur until the beginning of the nineteenth century. The period of Gregg's sojourn in New Mexico was that of greatest hostility. For over twenty-five years the United States government had much difficulty with the Navaho. There are yet over twenty thousand of these tribesmen on the different reservations, chiefly in Arizona.—Ed.

[42] Cochiti is one of the smaller Queres pueblos, situated on the west side of the Rio Grande, almost directly west of Santa Fé. It was near the same spot, at the time of the Spanish accession in 1598. The Cochitiaños took part in the rebellions of 1680 and 1696, and part of the mutineers were, about 1699, removed to the pueblo of Laguna. There are now less than two hundred and fifty inhabitants of this Indian village.—Ed.

[43] The only other authority for this campaign is A. R. Thümmel, Mexiko und die Mexikaner (Erlangen, 1848), pp. 350, 351.—Ed.

[44] For Governor José Gonzalez and his exploits during the insurrection of 1837 see preceding volume, ch. vi (Gregg).—Ed.

[45] Mezcal is the baked root of the maguey (agave Americana) and of another somewhat similar plant.—Gregg.

[46] Like the Jicarrilla, the Mescallero were in reality a distinct tribe, and related to the Apache only by linguistic affinities. Since 1865 they have been confined upon a reservation in southern New Mexico, where about four hundred still exist. The Coyoteros is one of some dozen tribes or bands among the Apache proper.—Ed.

[47] It has been credibly asserted, that, during one of these 'bold pursuits,' a band of Comanches stopped in the suburbs of a village on Rio Conchos, turned their horses into the wheat-fields, and took a comfortable siesta—desirous, it seemed, to behold their pursuers face to face; yet, after remaining most of the day, they departed without enjoying that pleasure.—Gregg.

[48] Or Chihuahuenses, citizens of Chihuahua.—Gregg.

[49] During the so-called "Pastry War," for which see our volume xix, p. 274, note 101 (Gregg).—Ed.

[50] Noticioso de Chihuahua of December 28, 1838.—Gregg.

[51] The experience of the United States army with the Apache has not proved their cowardice. Since the running of the boundary line after the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo (1848) up to 1886, one outbreak after another characterized our relations with the Apache. For fifteen years (1871-86) General Crook watched the Apache, and after each raid forced them back upon their reservations. Geronimo's band, which surrendered in September, 1886, was transported to Florida and Alabama.—Ed.

[52] The leader's name was James Johnson, who afterwards removed to California, where he died in poverty. See H. H. Bancroft, History of Arizona and New Mexico, p. 407.—Ed.

[53] Bancroft (op. cit.) relates the escape of Benjamin Wilson, who afterwards narrated the event, and the death of the leader, Charles Kemp.—Ed.

[54] The Apaches, previous to this date, had committed but few depredations upon foreigners—restrained either by fear or respect. Small parties of the latter were permitted to pass the highways of the wilderness unmolested, while large caravans of Mexicans suffered frequent attacks. This apparent partiality produced unfounded jealousies, and the Americans were openly accused of holding secret treaties with the enemy, and even of supplying them with arms and ammunition. Although an occasional foreigner engaged in this clandestine and culpable traffic, yet the natives themselves embarked in it beyond comparison more extensively, as has been noted in another place. This unjust impression against Americans was partially effaced as well by the catastrophes mentioned in the text, as by the defeat and robbery (in which, however, no American lives were lost), of a small party of our people, about the same period, in La Jornada del Muerto, on their way from Chihuahua to Santa Fé.—Gregg.

[55] For Socorro, consult Pattie's Narrative, in our volume xviii, p. 86, note 52.—Ed.

[56] Don Juan Andrés Archuleta, who commanded at the capture of Gen. McLeod's division of the Texans.—Gregg.

[57] For the placer mines, see our volume xix, p. 304, note 128 (Gregg).—Ed.

[58] Ocaté Creek is in Mora County, New Mexico, a tributary of the upper waters of the Canadian, one of the several streams called Colorado by the Mexicans. Because of this name, it was thought (until Long's expedition in 1820) to be the headwaters of Red River.—Ed.

[59] Having crossed the Prairies between Independence and Santa Fé six times, I can now present a table of the most notable camping sites, and their respective intermediate distances, with approximate accuracy—which may prove acceptable to some future travellers. The whole distance has been variously estimated at from 750 to 800 miles, yet I feel confident that the aggregate here presented is very nearly the true distance.

From Independence to	M.	Agg.
Round Grove,	35
Narrows,	30	65
110-mile Creek,	30	95
Bridge Cr.,	8	103
Big John Spring, (crossing sv'l. Crs.)	40	143
Council Grove,	2	145
Diamond Spring,	15	160
Lost Spring,	15	175
Cottonwood Cr.,	12	187
Turkey Cr.,	25	212
Little Arkansas,	17	229
Cow Creek,	20	249
Arkansas River,	16	265
Walnut Cr., (up Ark. r.)	8	273
Ash Creek,	19	292
Pawnee Fork,	6	298
Coon Creek,	33	331
Caches,	36	367
Ford of Arkansas,	20	387
Sand Cr. (leav. Ark. r.)	50	437
Cimarron r. (Lower sp.)	8	445
Middle spr. (up Cim. r.)	36	481
Willow Bar,	26	507
Upper Spring,	18	525
Cold spr. (leav. Cim. r.)	5	530
M'Nees's Cr.,	25	555
Rabbit-ear Cr.,	20	575
Round Mound,	8	583
Rock Creek,	8	591
Point of Rocks,	19	610
Rio Colorado,	20	630
Ocatè,	6	636
Santa Clara Spr.,	21	657
Rio Mora,	22	679
Rio Gallinas (Vegas),	20	699
Ojo de Bernal (spr.),	17	716
San Miguel,	6	722
Pecos village,	23	755
Santa Fe,	25	770

—Gregg.

[60] This paper, the first printed in Jackson County, was called The Evening and Morning Star, the first issue being in June, 1832.—Ed.

[61] This occurred July 20, 1833. Bishop Partridge and Charles Allen were the victims of the punishment.—Ed.

[62] In Northern Mexico, as I learned afterwards, the credulity of the superstitious was still more severely tried by this celestial phenomenon. Their Church had been deprived of some important privileges by the Congress but a short time before, and the people could not be persuaded but that the meteoric shower was intended as a curse upon the nation in consequence of that sacrilegious act.—Gregg.

[63] The following were drowned: James Campbell, George Bradbury, David Linch, Thomas Harrington, William Everett, Smallwood Nolan.—Ed.

[64] Far West was begun in 1836; by 1838 there was a Mormon population of twelve thousand in and around the city.—Ed.

[65] Lilburn W. Boggs was born in Kentucky in 1798. Early removed to Missouri, he became prominent as a trader, pioneer, and political leader. In 1832 he was elected lieutenant-governor, serving as the acting-governor during part of his term. At its close (1836) he was chosen governor, and served for four years. During this term he incurred the animosity of the Mormons, by what was known as his "extermination order," issued in October, 1838. The attempt to assassinate him at the close of his term of office, at his home in Independence (1841), was popularly ascribed to a Mormon fanatic, who was, however, acquitted in the courts. In 1846 Governor Boggs led an overland party to California, where he assisted in the American occupation. Removed to Napa Valley in 1852, he died there nine years later. His wife was a granddaughter of Daniel Boone.—Ed.

[66] The year in which Gregg's book was published (June, 1844), Prophet Joseph Smith was killed by a mob in the jail of Carthage, Illinois.—Ed.

[67] After the death of the founder there was dissension in the ranks, one wing being headed by his eldest son, Joseph Smith III. The latter founded what is known as the Reorganized Church of Latter Day Saints, which repudiates polygamy. These were the sectarians who returned to Jackson County, Missouri, where a large number now reside.—Ed.

CHAPTER XVII {I}[68]

A Return to Prairie Life — Abandonment of the regular Route — The Start — A Suicide — Arrest of a Mulatto for Debt — Cherokee 'Bankrupt Law' — Chuly, the Creek Indian — The Muster and the Introduction — An 'Olla Podrida' — Adventure of a 'Down-Easter' — Arrival of U.S. Dragoons — Camp Holmes, and the Road — A Visit from a Party of Comanches — Tabba-quena, a noted Chief — His extraordinary Geographical Talent — Indians set out for the 'Capitan Grande,' and we through an Unexplored Region — Rejoined by Tabba-quena and his 'suite' — Spring Valley — The Buffalo Fever — The Chase — A Green-horn Scamper — Prairie Fuel.[toc]

An unconquerable propensity to return to prairie life inclined me to embark in a fresh enterprise. The blockade [p100] of the Mexican ports by the French also offered strong inducements for undertaking such an expedition in the spring of 1839; for as Chihuahua is supplied principally through the sea-ports, it was now evident that the place must be suffering from great scarcity of goods. Being anxious to reach the market before the ports of the Gulf were reopened, we deemed it expedient to abandon the regular route from {10} Missouri for one wholly untried, from the borders of Arkansas, where the pasturage springs up nearly a month earlier. It is true, that such an attempt to convey heavily laden wagons through an unexplored region was attended with considerable risk; but as I was familiar with the general character of the plains contiguous to the north, I felt little or no apprehension of serious difficulties, except from what might be occasioned by regions of sandy soil. I have often been asked since, why we did not steer directly for Chihuahua, as our trade was chiefly destined for that place, instead of taking the circuitous route via Santa Fé. I answer, that we dreaded a journey across the southern prairies on account of the reputed aridity of the country in that direction, and I had no great desire to venture directly into a southern port in the present state of uncertainty as to the conditions of entry.

Suitable arrangements having been made, and a choice stock of about $25,000 worth of goods shipped to Van Buren [69] on the Arkansas river, we started on the evening of the 21st of April, but made very little progress for the first eight days. While we were yet but ten or fifteen miles from Van Buren, [p101] an incident occurred which was attended with very melancholy results. A young man named Hays, who had driven a wagon for me for several months through the interior of Mexico, and thence to the United States in 1838, having heard that this expedition was projected, {11} was desirous of engaging again in the same employ. I was equally desirous to secure his services, as he was well-tried, and had proved himself an excellent fellow on those perilous journeys. But soon after our outset, and without any apparent reason, he expressed an inclination to abandon the trip. I earnestly strove to dissuade him from his purpose, and supposed I had succeeded. What was my surprise, then, upon my return after a few hours' absence in advance of the company, to learn that he had secretly absconded! I was now led to reflect upon some of his eccentricities, and bethought me of several evident indications of slight mental derangement. We were, however, but a few miles from the settlements of the whites, and in the midst of the civilized Cherokees, where there was little or no danger of his suffering; therefore, there seemed but little occasion for serious uneasiness on his account. As it was believed he had shaped his course back to Van Buren, I immediately wrote to our friends there, to have search made for him. However, nothing could be found of him till the next day, when his hat and coat were discovered upon the bank of the Arkansas, near Van Buren, which were the last traces ever had of the unfortunate Hays! Whether intentionally or accidentally, he was evidently drowned.

On the 28th of April we crossed the Arkansas river a few miles above the mouth of the Canadian fork.[70] We had only proceeded {12} a short distance beyond, when a Cherokee shop-keeper came up to us with an attachment for debt [p102] against a free mulatto whom we had engaged as teamster. The poor fellow had no alternative but to return with the importunate creditor, who committed him at once to the care of 'Judge Lynch' for trial. We ascertained afterwards that he had been sentenced to 'take the benefit of the bankrupt law' after the manner of the Cherokees of that neighborhood. This is done by stripping and tying the victim to a tree; when each creditor, with a good cowhide or hickory switch in his hand, scores the amount of the bill due upon his bare back. One stripe for every dollar due is the usual process of 'whitewashing;' and as the application of the lash is accompanied by all sorts of quaint remarks, the exhibition affords no small merriment to those present, with the exception, no doubt, of the delinquent himself. After the ordeal is over, the creditors declare themselves perfectly satisfied: nor could they, as is said, ever be persuaded thereafter to receive one red cent of the amount due, even if it were offered to them. As the poor mulatto was also in our debt, and was perhaps apprehensive that we might exact payment in the same currency, he never showed himself again.

On the 2d of May we crossed the North Fork of the Canadian about a mile from its confluence with the main stream. A little westward of this there is a small village of {13} Creek Indians, and a shop or two kept by American traders.[71] An Indian who had quarrelled with his wife, came out and proposed to join us, and, to our great surprise, carried his proposal into execution. The next morning his repentant consort came into our camp, and set up a most dismal weeping and howling after her truant husband, who, notwithstanding, was neither to be caught by tears nor [p103] softened by entreaties, but persisted in his determination to see foreign countries. His name was Echú-eleh-hadjó (or Crazy-deer-foot), but, for brevity's sake, we always called him Chuly. He was industrious, and possessed many clever qualities, though somewhat disposed to commit excesses whenever he could procure liquor, which fortunately did not occur until our arrival at Santa Fé. He proved to be a good and willing hand on the way, but as he spoke no English, our communication with him was somewhat troublesome. I may as well add here, that, while in Santa Fé, he took another freak and joined a volunteer corps, chiefly of Americans, organized under one James Kirker to fight the Navajó and Apache Indians; the government of Chihuahua having guarantied to them all the spoils they should take.[72] With these our Creek found a few of his 'red brethren'—Shawnees and Delawares, who had wandered thus far from the frontier of Missouri. After this little army was disbanded, Chuly returned home, as I have been informed, with a small {14} party who crossed the plains directly from Chihuahua.

We had never considered ourselves as perfectly en chemin till after crossing the Arkansas river; and as our little party experienced no further change, I may now be permitted to introduce them collectively to the reader. It consisted of thirty-four men, including my brother John Gregg and myself. These men had all been hired by us except three, two of whom were Eastern-bred boys—a tailor and a silversmith—good-natured, clever little fellows, who had thought themselves at the 'jumping-off place' when they reached [p104] Van Buren, but now seemed nothing loth to extend their peregrinations a thousand miles or so further, in the hope of 'doing' the 'Spaniards,' as the Mexicans are generally styled in the West, out of a little surplus of specie. The other was a German peddler, who somewhat resembled the Dutchman's horse, "put him as you vant, and he ish alvays tere;" for he did nothing during the whole journey but descant on the value of a chest of trumperies which he carried, and with which he calculated, as he expressed it, to "py a plenty of te Shpanish tollar." The trip across the Prairies cost these men absolutely nothing, inasmuch as we furnished them with all the necessaries for the journey, in consideration of the additional strength they brought to our company.

Early Western Travels1748-1846Volume XX

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XX

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME XX

Part II of Gregg's Commerce of the Prairies, or The Journal of a Santa Fé Trader——1831-1839

CONTENTS

CHAPTER XII[1]

FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XIII

FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XIV

FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

FOOTNOTES:

CHAPTER XVII {I}[68]

Early Western Travels
1748-1846
Volume XX

CHAPTER XII [1]