The Range of the Buffalo (traditional)

'Twas in the town of Jacksboro, in the spring of seventy-three
a man by the name of Crego came stepping up to me,
saying "how do you do, young fellow, and how would you like to go
and spend one summer pleasantly on the range of the buffalo?"

It's me being out of employment, this to Crego I did say,
"this going out on the buffalo range depends upon the pay.
but if you will pay good wages, and transportation to and fro
I think, sir, I will go with you to the range of the buffalo."

"Yes I will pay good wages, give transportation too
provided you will go with me and stay the summer through;
but if you should grow homesick, come back to Jacksboro
I won't pay transportation from the range of the buffalo."

It's now our outfit was complete, seven able-bodied men,
with navy six and needle gun, our troubles did begin;
our way it was a pleasant one, the route we had to go
until we crossed Pease River, on the range of the buffalo.

It's now we've crossed Pease River, our troubles have begun,
the first damned tail I went to rip, Christ! how I cut my thumb!
while skinning the damned old stinkers, our lives they had no show
for the Indians watched to pick us off while skinning the buffalo.

He fed us on such sorry chuck, I wished myself most dead
it was old jerked beef, croton coffee and sour bread.
Pease River's as salty as hell fire, the water I never could go
O God! I wished I had never come to the range of the buffalo.

Our meat it was buffalo hump and iron wedge bread
and all we had to sleep on was a buffalo robe for a bed.
the fleas and gray-backs worked on us, o boys, it was not slow
I tell you there's no worse hell on earth than the range of the buffalo.

Our hearts were cased with buffalo hocks, our souls were cased with steel,
and the hardships of that summer would nearly make us reel;
while skinning the damned old stinkers, our lives they had no show
for the Indians watched to pick us off on the hills of Mexico.

The season being near over, old Crego he did say
the crowd had been extravagant, was in debt to him that day;
we coaxed him and we begged him, and still it was no go,
so we left old Crego's bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo.

Oh, it's now we've crossed Pease River, and homeward we are bound,
no more in that hell-fired country shall ever we be found.
go home to our wives and sweethearts, tell others not to go
for God's forsaken the buffalo range, and the damned old buffalo.

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1873 (opening of the West; railroads, elimination of Plains Indians hunting ground—kill off the food supply—modern agriculture)

Crego: drover (drives buffalo to kill) bad guy—doesn’t seem so at first “pleasantly”:sales job  (modern equivalent: door to door sales; stuffing envelopes; delivering Chinese food)

Capitalism: not about sustaining environment, Crego owns you body and soul—killing the animals just for the hide (throw away the meat, except for what they eat, eliminate food source Indians)

Incremental repetition (repeats words or lines in a ballad—narrative poem or song usually of four lines rhyming abcb)

Crego admit: here’s the catch (he’s a manipulator or honest?)

Six-gun and rifle

Pease River: boundary point—civilization to the wilderness/range

Cuts thumb—small thing moves to larger problem (Indians are shooting at them—trying to save their herd—although the ballad does not give the Indians a direct motive)  p.o.v./bias in ballad?

Comic note but also serious (Pease River—journey to Hell)

Paradise plains becomes hellish after White Man incursion

Hooves-heart image

“had no show”—nothing to show (Capitalism—used by the system)

Debt? Company store—paid in scrip and can only use that to buy supplies like food and whiskey (slavery or sharecropping)

Great image: “bones to bleach” image (how is it ironic)—he ends up like the buffalo (cycle of waste)  dystopic waste of resources/civilization out of balance

Why mention God and hell?  P.O.V./bias against the wilderness range?  God-forsaken land.  The speaker never takes responsibility for his actions?  Victim of rip-off scheme?

Woody Guthrie version leaves out the last verse (ends with vivid image—that symbolizes the cycle of violence/death/manipulation/greed and refers to outlaws instead of Indians (PC?).   Start out innocent but become guilty at the end.  Why would this song resonate in the 1930s? Capitalist depression/desperation.     U.S. Society makes us killers compared to the “uncivilized” Native Americans.   Element of social criticism. 

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The Streets of Laredo (The Cowboy’s Lament) (traditional)

As I walked out in the streets of Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy wrapped up in white linen,
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.

"Oh beat the drums slowly and play the fife lowly;
Sing the Death March as you carry me along.
Take me to the valley, there lay the sod o'er me,
I'm a young cowboy and know I´ve done wrong."

"I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy."
These words he did say as I boldly walked by.
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story;
Got shot in the breast and I know I must die!"

"My friends and relations they live in the Nation:
They know not where their dear boy has gone.
I first came to Texas and hired to a ranchman,
O I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong."

"It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing:
It was once in the saddle I used to go gay.
First to the dram house and then to the card house,
Got shot in the breast and I'm dying today."

"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin;
Get six pretty maidens to sing me a song.
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin,
Put roses to deaden the clods as they fall."

"Go gather around you a group of young cowboys,
And tell them the story of this my sad fate.
Tell one and the other before they go further,
To stop their wild roving before it's too late."

"Go fetch me some water, a cool cup of water
To cool my parched lips," then the poor cowboy said.
Before I returned his spirit had left him
Had gone to his Maker, the cowboy was dead.

We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,
And bitterly wept as we bore him along.
For awe all loved our comrade, so brave, young, and handsome.

We all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong.

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Basis in Irish/British folk song: lament or elegy (poem in praise of the dead) ironic here; the young man has gone from innocence to experience and death—social criticism?  The young man has “fallen” from his own vices?  What’s the message or take-away from this song?

Wants burial in valley—regains connection with nature/innocence—the thing that had made him want to be a cowboy in the first place

Dying man holding conversation—ballad tradition/motif

 Family back in the USA, but he’s on  the range (wilderness that can be both paradise and hell—as in Buffalo Skinners)

 Whiskey

Elements of civilization that cause his ruin—not wilderness

What’s the attitude toward death?  Roses—he’s okay with death, accepted his Fate—doesn’t seem particularly religious, fatalistic

 Is this religious or not?    Not a hymn  Secular (not sacred)

 secular in tone in the end (doesn’t say, if only he had repented)

Old World fatalism (maybe even pre-Christian, reenacting an ancient pagan death ritual—green valley—rebirth of life through nature)   Fate or Free Will guides our actions/life and death?