Texas Rangers
Come, all you Texas Rangers, wherever you may be,
I'll tell you of some troubles that happened unto me.
My name is nothing extra, so it I will not tell,--
And here's to all you Rangers, I am sure I wish you well.
It was at the age of sixteen that I joined the jolly band,
We marched from San Antonio down to the Rio Grande.
Our captain he informed us, perhaps he thought it right,
"Before we reach the station, boys, you'll surely have to fight."
And when the bugle sounded our captain gave command,
"To arms, to arms," he shouted, "and by your horses stand."
I saw the smoke ascending, it seemed to reach the sky;
The first thought that struck me, my time had come to die.
I saw the Indians coming, I heard them give the yell;
My feelings at that moment, no tongue can ever tell.
I saw the glittering lances, their arrows round me flew,
And all my strength it left me and all my courage too.
We fought full nine hours before the strife was o'er,
The like of dead and wounded I never saw before.
And when the sun was rising and the Indians they had fled,
We loaded up our rifles and counted up our dead.
And all of us were wounded, our noble captain slain,
And the sun was shining sadly across the bloody plain.
Sixteen as brave Rangers as ever roamed the West
Were buried by their comrades with arrows in their breast.
ëTwas then I thought of mother, who to me in tears did say,
"To you they are all strangers, with me you had better stay."
I thought that she was childish, the best she did not know;
My mind was fixed on ranging and I was bound to go.
Perhaps you have a mother, likewise a sister too,
And maybe you have a sweetheart to weep and mourn for you;
If that be your situation, although you'd like to roam,
I'd advise you by experience, you had better stay at home.
I have seen the fruits of rambling, I know its hardships well;
I have crossed the Rocky Mountains, rode down the streets of hell;
I have been in the great Southwest where the wild Apaches roam,
And I tell you from experience you had better stay at home.
And now my song is ended; I guess I have sung enough;
The life of a Rangers I am sure is very tough.
And here's to all you ladies, I am sure I wish you well,
I am bound to go a-ranging, so ladies, fare you well.
from Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads, collected by John A. Lomax, (1929, McMillan Company) |
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Here's to the Ranger!
He leaves unplowed his furrow,
He leaves his books unread
For a life of tented freedom
By lure of danger led.
He's first in the hour of peril
, He's gayest in the dance,
Like the guardsman of old England
Or the beau sabreur of France.
He stands our faithful bulwark
Against our savage foe;
Through lonely woodland places
Our children come and go;
Our flocks and herds untended
O'er hill and valley roam,
The Ranger in the saddle
Means peace for us at home.
Behold our smiling farmsteads
Where waves the golden grain!
Beneath yon tree, earth's bosom
Was dark with crimson stain.
That bluff the death-shot echoed
Of husband, father, slain!
God grant such sight of horror
We never see again!
The gay and hardy Ranger,
His blanket on the ground,
Lies by the blazing camp-fire While song and tale goes round;
And if one voice is silent,
One fails to hear the jest,
They know his thoughts are absent
With her who loves him best.
Our state, her sons confess it,
That queenly, star-crowned brow,
Has darkened with the shadow
Of lawlessness ere now;
And men of evil passions
On her reproach have laid,
But that the ready Ranger
Rode promptly to her aid.
He may not win the laurel
Nor trumpet tongue of fame;
But beauty smiles upon him,
And ranchmen bless his name.
Then here's to the Texas Ranger,
Past, present and to come!
Our safety from the savage,
The guardian of our home.
from Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads, collected by John A. Lomax, (1929, McMillan Company) |
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El Corrido de Gregorio Cortez
In the county of El Carmen
A great misfortune befell;
The major Sheriff is dead;
Who killed him no one can tell.
At two in the afternoon,
In half an hour or less,
They knew that the man who killed him
Had been Gregorio Cortez.
They let loose the bloodhound dogs;
They followed him from afar.
But trying to catch Cortez
Was like following a star.
All the Rangers of the county
Were flying, they rode so hard;
What they wanted was to get
The thousand-dollar reward.
And in the county of Kiansis
They cornered him after all;
Though they were more than three hundred
He leaped out of their corral.
Then the Major Sheriff said,
As if he was going to cry,
"Cortez, hand over your weapons;
We want to take you alive."
Then said Gregorio Cortez,
And his voice was like a bell,
"You will never get my weapons
Till you put me in a cell."
Then said Gregorio Cortez,
With his pistol in his hand,
"Ah, so many mounted Rangers
Just to take one Mexican!"
from With His Pistol in His Hand: A Border Ballad & Its Hero, (1958, University of Texas Press) by AmÈrico Paredes,
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Sam Bass
(This one is more about what a great fellow the trainrobber Sam Bass was, and isn't all that complimentary toward the Rangers. But hey, it's an outlaw ballad.)
Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam.
Sam first came out to Texas a cowboy for to be,--
A kinder-hearted fellow you seldom ever see.
Sam used to deal in race stock, one called the Denton mare,
He matched her in scrub races, and took her to the Fair.
Sam used to coin the money and spent it just as free,
He always drank good whiskey wherever he might be.
Sam left the Collin's ranch in the merry month of May
With a herd of Texas cattle the Black Hills for to see,
Sold out in Custer City and then got on a spree,--
A harder set of cowboys you seldom ever see.
On their way back to Texas they robbed the U.P. train,
And then split up in couples and started out again.
Joe Collins and his partner were overtaken soon,
With all their hard-earned money they had to meet their doom.
Sam made it back to Texas all right side up with care;
Rode into the town of Denton with all his friends to share.
Sam's life was short in Texas; three robberies did he do,
He robbed all the passenger, mail, and express cars too.
Sam had four companions -- four bold and daring lads --
They were Richardson, Jackson, Joe Collins, and Old Dad;
Four more bold and daring cowboys the Rangers never knew,
They whipped the Texas Rangers and ran the boys in blue.
Sam had another companion, called Arkansas for short,
Was shot by a Texas Ranger by the name of Thomas Floyd;
Oh, Tom is a big six-footer and thinks he's mighty fly,
But I can tell you his racket,--he's a deadbeat on the sly.
Jim Murphy was arrested, and then released on bail;
He jumped his bond at Tyler and then took the train for Terrell;
But Mayor Jones had posted Jim and that was all a stall,
ëTwas only a plan to capture Sam before the coming fall.
Sam met his fate at Round Rock, July the twenty-first,
They pierced poor Sam with rifle balls and emptied out his purse.
Poor Sam he is a corpse and six foot under clay,
And Jackson's in the bushes trying to get away.
Jim had borrowed Sam's good gold and didn't want to pay,
The only shot he saw was to give poor Sam away.
He sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn,--
Oh, what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.
And so he sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn,
Oh, what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.
Perhaps he's got to heaven, there's none of us can say,
But if I'm right in my surmise he's gone the other way.
from Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads, collected by John A. Lomax, (1929, McMillan Company) |
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Muster Out the Ranger
Yes, muster them out, the valiant band
That guards our western home.
What matter to you in your eastern land
If the raiders here should come?
No danger that you shall awake at night
To the howls of a savage band;
So muster them out, thought the morning light
Find havoc on every hand.
Some dear one is sick and the horses all gone,
So we can't for a doctor send;
The outlaws were in the light of the morn
And no Rangers here to defend.
For they've mustered them out, the brave true band,
Untiring by night and day.
The fearless scouts of this border land
Made the taxes high, they say.
Have fewer men in the capitol walls,
Fewer tongues in the war of words,
But add to the Rangers, the living wall
That keeps back the bandit hordes.
Have fewer dinners, less turtle soup,
If the taxes are too high.
There are many other and better ways
To lower them if they try.
Don't waste so much of your money
Printing speeches people don't read.
If you'd only take off what's used for that
ëTwould lower the tax indeed.
Don't use so much sugar and lemons;
Cold water is just as good
For a constant drink in the summer time
And better for the blood.
But leave us the Rangers to guard us still,
Nor think that they cost too dear;
For their faithful watch over vale and hill
Gives our loved ones naught to fear.
from Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads, collected by John A. Lomax, (1929, McMillan Company) |
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