caste of people who
possessed no property nor anything else, and consequently they had no
cares and were under no responsibility of any kind, as the wealthier
classes, who virtually owned them, had to provide for their
necessities. The system of peonage in New Mexico had been abolished
with the abolition of slavery in the United States, but the peons did
not realize the wretchedness of their deplorable social status, and in
their ignorance they regarded their bondage as a privilege, believing
themselves fortunate to have their wants provided for by their
patrones. They were treated kindly by their masters and looked upon as
poor relations and intimate but humble friends.

The entertainment was to be of the velorio (wake) type, which begins as
a prayer meeting and ends in a dance. My friends exerted themselves to
the utmost to make this event the social climax of the season. They
sent a committee to the pueblo of Isleta for several goatskins full of
native wine, and incidentally they borrowed San Augustin, the pueblo's
famous image saint, who they intended should preside over the velorio.
As this prayer meeting was to be in my honor and for the sake of
invoking the protection of the saints on my journey, they thought it
best to procure San Augustin, who being the patron saint of the heathen
Isleta Indians, would not mind giving a heretic Protestant gringo a
good send-off, as he was accustomed to deal with heresy. They also
procured a dozen fat mutton sheep, which were to be barbecued and
served with chile pelado to the invited guests, surely a tempting menu
and hot! The ladies baked bollos, tamales and frijoles. Melons and
cantaloupes were brought in by the cartload. I was waited upon by a
committee and received a formal invitation; for everything was done in
grand Spanish style. When I arrived at the festive hall the ceremonies
began. The ladies knelt before San Augustin, praying and chanting
alternately. I took my customary station at the door, as master of the
artillery. At the singing of a certain stanza and after the words,
"Angeles, y Seraphim es! Santo! Santo! Santo!" I received my cue from
one of the deacons who gave the order: "Fuego, maestro!" and I
discharged my double barreled shotgun and a brace of six shooters in
lightning-like succession. Surely this was pious devotion, properly
emphasized, and it kept San Augustin from falling asleep. I used up a
pound of gunpowder that night, and this was said to have b