“Middle-class Mexican Americans … drew distinctions between themselves and lower-class Mexicans who they often regarded as ‘Indios’ or ‘Indian Mexicans’ and used terms like ‘mojados’ …” (Foley)

racial stratification within Tejanx community — “indios,” “mojados,” etc. / BB&W, 134

These middle-class Mexican Americans in El Paso sought to eliminate once and for all the ambiguity surrounding Mexican racial identity. First, they recognized that any attempt to define them as “nonwhite” could easily come to mean “noncitizen” as well, because many Anglos did not regard Mexicans, particularly of the lower class, as truly American or fit for American citizenship. Second, middle-class Mexican Americans themselves drew distinctions between themselves and lower-class Mexicans who they often regarded as “Indios,” or “Indian Mexicans” and used terms like “mojados” (“wetbacks”) and other terms of class and racial disparagement. Hamilton Price, the black El Pasoan, pointed out as much when he reminded El Pasoans about the close, even intimate, relations that existed between blacks and lower-class Mexicans in El Paso, from Mexican men shining the shoes of African American men to African American men marrying Mexican women.

Neil Foley, "Partly Colored or Other White: Mexican Americans and Their Problem with the Color Line," in Beyond Black and White: Race, Ethnicity, and Gender in the U.S. South and Southwest, ed. Stephanie Cole and Alison M. Parker, 123-144 (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 204), 134.


“Menchaca was comparatively well off, but only in relation to a San Antonio Tejano population undergoing a significant downward trend in economic status from landowners to a working underclass.” (Matovina and de la Teja)

1840-1850: Census documentation of declining Tejanx economic position

The 1840 census of the Republic of Texas recorded him as holding one town lot in San Antonio, presumably the location of his private residence, and two horses. He was also the agent of record for his widowed mother, who owned one town lot. After U.S. annexation of Texas, his level of prosperity remained relatively constant. In 1840, on the first U.S. census conducted in San Antonio, he was listed as a “merchant” who owned real estate valued at $2,000; a newspaper report from seven years later mentions Menchaca as one owner of transport carts loaded with goods that left San Antonio for the coast under armed guard during the infamous Cart War.[26]

[15] Still, in comparison to other San Antonio Tejanos, Menchaca’s retention of his homestead and mercantile interests placed him ahead of many contemporaries. Although incomplete, the census of 1840 showed that Tejanos owned 85.1 percent of the town lots in San Antonio, along with 63.8 percent of all land acreage titled to local residents. According to the 1850 census, they owned only 9.1 percent of real estate values claimed. Similarly, in 1830, when Tejanos comprised nearly all the population of San Antonio, the census showed that most residents were farmers and only 14.8 percent were laborers. No employment listings were given in the 1840 census, but in 1850, 61.4 percent of the Tejano population was in labor positions. Menchaca was comparatively well off, but only in relation to a San Antonio Tejano population undergoing a significant downward trend in economic status from landowners to a working underclass.[27]

Menchaca did not complacently accept the woes of his fellow Tejanos. He was a frequent witness for Tejano parties in court cases, particularly for veterans seeking the compensation due them by law for military service in the Texas Revolution. Convinced that the just claims of many Tejano veterans had been denied or unduly delayed as compared to the more prompt approvals their Anglo-American counterparts received, Menchaca was one of nineteen Tejano signers in 1875 of a letter to the Texas comptroller of [16] public accounts that sought to “disabuse [Comptroller Stephen H. Darden’s mind of any prejudice” against Tejano veterans and that demanded for themselves and their comrades “simply justice and nothing more.” His support of fellow Tejanos was so strong that apparently he did not even hold grudges against those who supported the Mexican side in the Texas Revolution. For example, he provided a deposition to support the legal claims of Francisco Esparza, a San Antonio native who, unlike his Alamo-defender brother Gregorio, had opted to fight in the Mexican army during the December 1835 Texan siege of San Antonio and was on reserve with the Mexican forces during Santa Anna’s Texas campaign. James Newcomb summed up Menchaca’s leading role as a legal advocate when he quipped that “in later years, when the titles to almost every foot of ground in the old city and county of Bexar were litigated in the courts, Captain Menchaca became a standing witness to prove up the genealogy of the old families.”[28]

Matovina and de la Teja, “Introduction: Antonio Menchaca in Texas History,” in Antonio Menchaca, Recollections of a Tejano Life: Antonio Menchaca in Texas History, edited by Timothy Matovina and Jesús F. de la Teja, with the collaboration of Justin Poché (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2013)., 14-16.

  1. [26][…] Gifford White, ed., The 1840 Census of the Republic of Texas, 15; V. K. Carpenter, comp. The State of Texas Federal Population Schedules Seventh Census of the United States, 1850, entry no. 179, 1:121; San Antonio Herald, 25 September 1857, p. 2. For a brief overview of the Cart War, see John J. Linn, Reminiscences of Fifty Years in Texas, 352-354; J. Fred Rippy, “Border Troubles along the Rio Grande, 1848-1860,” 103-104; Larry Knight, “The Cart War: Defining American in San Antonio in the 1850s,” 319-336.
  2. [27]White, ed., The 1840 Census of the Republic of Texas, 12-18; Carpenter, comp., State of Texas Seventh Census, 1:111-189; White, 1830 Citizens of Texas, 79-112. The downward trend in socioeconomic fortunes of Bexareños was not unique, either to Texas or to the Southwest generally. Arnoldo De León, in The Tejano Community, 1836-1900, was the first to explore this theme in a major work, not from the perspective of victimization, but from that of resistance and self-assertion. David Montejano, in confirming De León’s findings, expanded the focus to include the legalistic dynamics of Tejano marginalization in the nineteenth century in Anglos and Mexicans in the Making of Texas, 1836-1986. Beyond Texas, Richard Griswold del Castillo, in The Los Angeles Barrio, 1850-1890: A Social History, and Albert Camarillo, in Chicanos in a Changing Society: From Mexican Pueblos to American Barrios in Santa Barbara and Southern California, 1848-1930, trace the very similar processes at work in southern California during the nineteenth century. Even in New Mexico, where they remained such a large percentage of the population, Laura E. Gómez demonstrates in Manifest Destinies: The Making of the Mexican American Race that Mexican Americans faced socioeconomic decline. In all these cases, the result was the formation and reinforcement of a distinctly Mexican-based identity.
  3. [28]Antonio Menchaca, deposition, 1 January 1856, Antonio Fuentes file, and deposition, 28 July 1856, Carlos Espalier file, both in Memorials and Petitions, Texas State Library and Archives Commission, Austin; Juan N. Seguín, “Application for Pension,” 2 October 1874, in Seguín, Revolution Remembered, ed. De la Teja, 2nd ed., 187-188; Tejano citizens to Stephen H. Darden, 12 January 1875, in James M. Day, ed., “Texas Letters and Documents,” 84; Menchaca, deposition, 24 August 1860, Court of Claims voucher file no. 2557 (Francisco Esparza), Texas General Land Office, Austin; Newcomb, introduction to Memoirs, by Antonio Menchaca, ed. Chabot, 11.

“These alternatives collapsed, however, in the following fifty years as obreros, both in the city and the countryside, came to be concentrated into general laboring positions.” (de Leon and Stewart)

Collapse of avenues for advancement, concentration into general labor pool. / TNG, 77.

As labor markets developed in south, central, and west Texas cities and rural areas, considerable disparities of employment opportunity for the region’s two major ethnic groups evolved. For Mexican Americans, the labor systems in both rural and urban areas at mid-century offered clear alternatives for pursuing a living and striving towards betterment. These alternatives collapsed, however, in the following fifty years as obreros, both in the city and the countryside, came to be concentrated into general laboring positions. In the same period, Anglos found that opportunities in the rural areas narrowed in the agricultural market while the cities presented a range of alternative choices for them in trade, transportation, and manufacturing. Given the inequalities of occupational opportunity that developed, it is little wonder that larger percentages of whites chose city life compared to the Mexican Americans. Indeed, the reason why fewer Tejanos were attracted to the budding urban centers, and the reason why those who went were more frequently non-natives, was because cities held out less promise to Mexican American workers. The legendary image of bustling new cities ripe with opportunity is, to be [78] sure, an overrated figment of North American remembrances of history. But in the nineteenth century, the myth came nearer the truth for whites than for the Mexicans of Texas.

Arnoldo de León and Kenneth L. Stewart, Tejanos and the Numbers Game: A Socio-Historical Interpretation from the Federal Censuses, 1850-1900 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1989), 77-78.

“Significantly, a part of this increase in laborers was due to the entry of females into the labor pool.” (de Leon and Stewart)

1860s-1900: Mexican women increasingly drawn into labor pool, especially single women & minors / TNG p. 44

Perhaps the most important effect of declining occupational standing among Mexican Americans in the nineteenth century is related to the already mentioned fact that increasing numbers of Tejanos were drawn into the labor force as economic change progressed. Significantly, a part of this increase in laborers was due to the entry of females into the labor pool. Indeed, analysis of the composition of Mexican American workers shows that approximately 8.8 percent were females in 1850, and that this proportion climbed to 12.1 percent by 1900. Between 1850 and 1900, the total Tejano laboring population increased thirty-fold, while the female segment multiplied forty-three times. Though women never made up more than a minority of the laboring population, they were its fastest growing segment.

One aspect of Mexican American life directly affected by [45] the increased presence of women in the labor force was the family. In 1850, according to computer estimates, some 5.2 percent of Tejano households were at least partly supported by working women, and this percentage grew to 19.6 percent by 1900. The household status of working women changed. Between 1850 and 1900, the percentage of working women who were heads or children of households increased from 34.8 percent to 63.6 percent. At the same time, the number of working women who were spouses in the household declined from 52.2 percent to 11.9 percent.

Statistics such as these, of course, do not speak to attitudes and perceptions about women in the work place, or to subtle changes in family patterns centered around their involvement in work. Mario T. García, along with other historians, has held that Mexican women in their cultural upbringing were not encouraged to seek gainful employment.[10] Thus, it is certain that economic conditions leading to an escalation of female activity in wage labor markets pressed against the value orientations of the Tejano community and brought women to forsake their cultural beliefs in order to support the domestic budget. The fact that it was female household heads and children, rather than Mexican American spouses, who were drawn into the labor force most rapidly lends further credence to the thesis that it was impoverishment instead of preference that stimulated the change of work patterns.

Arnoldo de León and Kenneth L. Stewart, Tejanos and the Numbers Game: A Socio-Historical Interpretation from the Federal Censuses, 1850-1900 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1989), 44-45.

  1. [10]Mario T. García, Desert Immigrants: The Mexicans of El Paso, 1880-1920 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1981), p. 200.

“What the evolutionary process of economic change did was to force the bulk of Tejanos into making their way as jornaleros: day laborers and other journeyman workers” (de Leon and Stewart)

1850s-1860s: de-specialization of Mexican labor -> jornaleros. Carting, Farming, Crafts -> Day labor. [Labor Compression]

On the eve of the swift Anglo in-migration into south, central, and west Texas beginning at mid-century, Mexicans held their own in terms of economic standing. In the state’s incipient economy of the 1850s, Tejanos had a share of positions in trade, transportation, and agriculture, as well as manufacturing and mechanical enterprises (see Table 3.2). As the economy developed further, however, Anglos monopolized the better positions in those sectors. Mexicanos lost their grip on them, and over time were channeled [34] and heavily concentrated into the marginal “unspecialized” labors.[2]

In 1850, for example, Tejanos dominated the freighting industry with negligible competition from Anglos (see Table 3.2). According to Frederick Law Olmsted, a perceptive observer who toured the state in the mid-1850s, Mexicans seemed to have had no other occupation than carting goods, as the entire transportation of clothes, foods, cotton, and the like between Indianola and the Matagorda Bay area appeared to have been a thoroughly Mexican concern.[3] Obviously, Tejanos earned their living in other ways, but Olmsted was not far off in his guess, for according to the census, 50 percent of Mexican American workers pursued this line of work in central Texas, the region from which Olmsted drew his generalization. By 1860, however, Tejanos still dominated the business, but they rapidly were being displaced and thrown into the pool of “unspecialized” general laborers.

A similar shift in the economic standing of Tejanos occurred in farming and ranching. In the first census, enumerators counted about one-third of Tejano obreros as farmers, but the percentage declined by one-half by 1860 and a downward spiral followed thereafter. The percentage of Anglos in the same enterprise increased sharply before the Civil War and remained a stable line of work for them in the postwar years as more than one-fourth of white workers were listed as “farmers” in 1870 and afterward. Similarly, “stockraising” ranked as one of the most reliable occupations engaging the labor of Anglos.[4]

The changes accompanying the economy’s growth also dislodged Tejanos from certain craft occupations. At mid-century, Mexicans did well as shoemakers and tailors, but they could no longer rely on these pursuits after 1860. The same applied to carpenters and blacksmiths. Moreover, Tejanos were not able to penetrate the white-collar jobs that opened up to Anglos. Lawyers, doctors, teachers, and military [35] personnel (up until the settlement of the frontier) were familiar figures in the Anglo work force, but these types were barely represented among Mexican American workers. In the mercantile trades, Tejanos also found slight chance for employment as less than 1 percent made their living as merchants or clerks. Anglos, on the other hand, consistently turned to these endeavors as promising avenues for advancement.

What the evolutionary process of economic change did was to force the bulk of Tejanos into making their way as jornaleros: day laborers and other journeyman workers. Many others were tied to menial service jobs such as laundering, cooking, and general servant work. In the ranching areas, where Anglos came to dominate the land, Tejanos relied on old ranching skills and found employment as ranch hands with little hope of betterment, and as the railroad spread across the state in the 1880s, Anglos monopolized the skilled tasks (for example, engineers and foremen), while Mexicans were relegated to laying track and performing other less desirable duties.

Arnoldo de León and Kenneth L. Stewart, Tejanos and the Numbers Game: A Socio-Historical Interpretation from the Federal Censuses, 1850-1900 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1989), 33-35.

  1. [2]Anglos did not experience a comparable level of labor concentration into the marginal occupations. By 1900 only 19 percent of Anglo workers were situated in “unspecialized” jobs that appeared in the census records compared to the 54.5 percent of Tejano workers shown in Table 3.2. Specialized agricultural pursuits absorbed the largest plurality of Anglo workers (32.3 percent), and trade and transportation specialties occupied another 20.2 percent of the white labor force.
  2. [3]Frederick Law Olmsted, A Journey Through Texas (New York: Burt Franklin, 1969), p. 160.
  3. [4]Misinterpretation on the part of the census takers regarding the proper terms for different agrarian tasks may have overestimated the number of Tejanos counted as “farmers” and “ranchers,” especially after 1860. Therefore, the shift of Mexicans from farm and ranch ownership to hired labor likely was more pronounced than the statistics indicate.

Revolutionaries and Mutualistas (De Leon, “Corridors North, 1900-1930”)

From “Corridors North, 1900-1930.”


[…] The most prominent case of revolutionary activity in Texas against Diáz involved the aforementioned Ricardo Flores Magón and his PLM, which intrigued to remove the Mexican dictator in the hope of implementing significant changes that would, among other things, bring relief to the lower classes through land reform and prolabor polices.[37] PLM newspapers in the years before the Mexican Revolution were located in San Antonio, Del Rio, and El Paso,[38] and through Regeneración, the PLM’s primary journalistic organ, Magón appealed to Tejano workers who identified with their comrades in the homeland or were dissatisfied with job conditions in the state. Though it is difficult to measure the ideological impact of the PLM, the party had followers as deep as Central Texas. The PLM local “Tierra y Libertad” of Austin, for instance, organized an impressive rally in Uhland, Texas, on Labor Day of 1912, which roughly one thousand people from other PLM chapters in Central Texas attended. After inspirational speeches that urged societal changes in Mexico and the United States, delegates dispersed to campaign in their own communities for the goals of the PLM.[39] In actuality, most immigrants in the early twentieth century stayed out of movements that appeared to be radical for fear of jeopardizing their work or risking extradition, though some did participate in the labor struggles of the era.[40]

The PLM also exhorted women to join its ranks and fight on behalf of workers and women’s emancipation. Indeed, women members of the PLM participated as speakers and fundraisers in forums and rallies held in El Paso, Brownsville, and Zapata and Frio Counties on the eve of the Mexican Revolution. Among the PLM’s several women activists was Sara Estela Ramírez, mentioned in the previous chapter.[41]



Mutual aid societies first appeared among Texas Mexicans in the 1870s, but they proliferated with the coming of the Immigrant Generation and by the 1920s could be found in most regions of the state including the Big Bend and North Texas. Such organizations grew out, in part, in reaction to the afflictions many Tejanos experienced at the hands of [76] white society: public humiliation, violence, and poverty, to list only the most salient. Despite their root cause, mutualist societies tended to be nonconfrontational, concentrating instead on improving conditions for their members and other working-class people, assisting members in financial distress, especially after the death of a loved one, and job placement. They also attempted to uplift their compatriots through intellectual and spiritual stimulation, social camaraderie, and through the creation and maintenance of a congenial and familiar environment in an adopted world.[43]

Several characteristics marked these societies as a product of the immigrants temperament, though membership usually included U.S. Mexicans. First, they promoted a Mexicanist identity and cultivated what historian Emilio Zamora, a student of Texas-Mexican labor in the early twentieth century, calls an “ethic of mutuality,” committed as they were to such ideals as fellowship, humanitarianism, and reciprocity.[44] Generally, the societies carried the name of a national hero from Mexico such as Benito Juárez. Members preferred to use Spanish when conducting business. Organizers emphasized Mexican ideals and values and held reservations about assimilation and integration into a racist society, though they were not opposed to joining the American mainstream on an equal basis.[45]

Because of similar concerns, obreros (laborers) founded labor mutualistas (mutual aid societies). Shunned by the American Federation of Labor–which had, as mentioned, made some gestures towards incorporating Mexicans, though it began to look upon them as strike-breakers–and Mexican consuls who feared alienating the United States government, immigrant laborers looked to the customs of Mexico, where craftsmen were organized into mutualistas. In San Antonio, for instance, bakers founded the Sociedad Morelos Mutua de Panaderos which struck for decent wages and working conditions in 1917.[46]

Women participated in mutualistas as officers and committee heads and even founders. For example, María L. Hernández and her husband Pedro of San Antonio, Texas, organized the Orden Caballeros de América in 1929 to help solve educational problems for Tejanos and to promote civic and political activism beneficial to Mexicans, whether native or foreign born.[47] Still, scholars today disagree on the roles women played in these mutualistas. Like men, some joined for self-protection and probably did not advocate a feminist agenda. However, some of the middle-class [77] participants did assail the double standard and urged women in general to take stands against the consumption of alcohol, war, and the subordination of women.[48]

Arnoldo de Leon, Mexican Americans in Texas, 74-76

  1. [37]Zamora, “Mexican Labor Activity,” pp. 76-77; Zamora, World of the Mexican Worker in Texas (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1993), p. 140; Juan Gómez-Quiñones, Sembradores: Ricardo Flores Magón and the Partido Liberal Mexicano (Los Angeles: Chicano Studies Research Center, 1976), p. 29.
  2. [38]Gómez-Quiñones, Sembradores, pp. 29, 35-36.
  3. [39]Zamora, World of the Mexican Worker in Texas, p. 147.
  4. [40]García, Mexican Americans, p. 175.
  5. [41]Marta Cotera, Diosa y Hembra (Austin: Information Systems Development, 1976), pp. 65-66; Gómez-Quiñones, Sembradores, p. 36; Rodolfo F. Acuña, Occupied America: A History of Chicanos (3rd ed.; New York: Harper and Row, 1988), p. 151.
  6. [43]Lowrey, “Night School in Little Mexico,” pp. 39-40; John Ernest Gregg, “The History of Presidio County” (M.A. Thesis, University of Texas, 1933), pp. 201-202; De León, Ethnicity in the Sunbelt, p. 33; Zamora, World of the Mexican Worker in Texas, p. 93; Calderón, “Mexican Politics in the American Era,” Chapter 10.
  7. [44]Zamora, World of the Mexican Worker in Texas, pp. 99-100.
  8. [45]García, Mexican Americans, p. 28
  9. [46]Pycior, “La Raza Organizes,” pp. 126-127, 128, 130, 132, 134, 136; Acuña, Occupied America, p. 170.
  10. [47]Cotera, Diosa y Hembra, p. 73; Pycior, “La Raza Organizes,” pp. 76-81.
  11. [48]Pycior, “La Raza Organizes,” p. 76.

Ricos y Pobres in the 1920s, the Mexicanization of the Tejano elite (de León)

For the most part, those who came to Texas from Mexico descended from the class of poor folks. These economic refugees were the ones to cause the aforementioned dilemma of the 1920s: they worked cheaply and performed labor shunned by whites yet were seen as a social danger to the country because of their alleged illiteracy, propensity to commit crime and cause disease, and reluctance to acculturate.

An upper class of ricos (wealthy people) and a middle class of professionals also fled northward, hoping to stay in Texas temporarily until politics stabilized in Mexico. These included exiles whose ties to the Porfirian order made their stay precarious in Mexico; others were landowners trekking to Texas to escape the wrath of vindictive peasant armies. [72] In the 1920s, the political emigrés were followed by refugees escaping the turmoil in Mexico created by the anti-Catholic administration of President Plutarco Elías Calles. Though not as significant in number compared to the bulk of immigrants who descended from the lower class, the ricos could be influential due to their backgrounds as people of education and means. These families were to be found in the lower Rio Grande Valley, San Antonio, Laredo, El Paso, and Houston.

In Texas this corps of elites played significant roles in ethnic enclaves. They promoted a Mexican past through the distribution of Mexican books, magazines, musical records, and Spanish-language newspapers from Mexico City. They sponsored speaking engagements and theatrical performances and editorialized or extolled the virtues of la patria (Mexico, their native country). Meantime, they formed their own clubs and held exclusive cultural activities. They maintained a commitment to preserving Mexican nationalist sentiments within the community of immigrants.[24]

Arnoldo de León, Mexican Americans in Texas: A Brief History, Second Edition. Wheeling, Illinois: Harlan Davidson, 1999. 71-72.

  1. [24]García, Rise of hte Mexican American Middle Class, pp. 240-241, 234, 103, 104; Richard A. García, “The Mexican American Mind: A Product of the 1930s,” in Mario T García, History, Culture and Society (Ypsilanti: Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingue, 1983), pp. 76, 78.

“Mexicans are different to negroes and are recognized as Americans.” “Money Whitens” (Montejano)

From David Montejano, Anglos and Mexicans in the Making of Texas, 1836-1986, 84-85:

Landed Mexicans represented the complicating factor in the Mexican-Anglo relations of the frontier period. Even during the worst times of Mexican banditry, the permanent Mexican residents who were landowners were seen as “good citizens” while the large “floating” population temporarily employed on ranches were seen as sympathizers of the raiders.[27] Similar distinctions were made in the less dramatic, daily encounters. For example, in her first trip to Corpus Christi in 1870, Mrs. Susan Miller of Louisiana stopped at the State Hotel and “was horrified to see Mexicans seated at the tables with Americans. I told my husband I had never eaten with Mexicans or negroes, and refused to do so. He said ‘Mexicans are different to negroes and are recognized as Americans. However, I will speak to the manager and see if he will not put a small table in one corner of the room for you. He did so and we enjoyed our meal.”[28] Evidence of inconsistent patterns at times comes from ironic sources. They indicate, nonetheless, that not all Mexicans were seen or treated as inferior. In fact, most pioneers, especially merchants and officials, were quite adept at drawing the distinction between the landed “Castilian” elite and the landless Mexican. Thus, L. E. Daniell, author of Successful Men in Texas (1890), described the physical appearance of prominent “Canary Islander” José Maria Rodríguez as “five feet nine inches in height, complexion dark, but not a drop of Indian blood in his veins.” As if to emphasize this point, Daniell added that Rodríguez had ïn his veins the blood of the most chivalric Knights that made the Olvie of Spain respected wherever a Knightly name was known.”[29]

The well-known aphorism about color and class explains the situation on the Mexican frontier–“money whitens.” The only problem for upper-class Mexicans was that this principle offered neither consistent nor permanent security in the border region. Certainly it did not protect them from the racial opinion of many Anglos. One descendant of this upper class described their reaction as follows: “Now that a new country has been established south of the Rio Grande they call our people Mexicans. They are the same people who were called Spaniards only a short time ago. Some say the word in such a bitter way that it sounds as if it were a crime to be a Mexican. My master says he is one, and is proud to be [85] one. That he is a member of the white race, whether he be called Mexican or not.”[30]

[N.B.: The closing quote is from a 1935 “folk history” of the area told from the perspective of a Mesquite tree.]


  1. [27] Dobie, Vaquero of the Brush Country, p. 69; Graf, “Economic History,” p. 625.
  2. [28] Miller, Sixty Years, pp. 15, 175.
  3. [29] Daniell, Types of Successful Men, p. 340.
  4. [30] Zamora O’Shea, El Mesquite, p. 59.