Saturday, December 26, 2009

The Blevins Brothers

In the eighteen-eighties
in the state of Arizona,
the Blevins brothers
earned their fifteen minutes of fame.
They were ranchers, yet rustlers,
horse-thieves, and hired-guns,
who, with cousins an' in-laws
did earn all their shame.
They lived lives of spite,
their actions were petty,
but crimes an' status increased
The ranchers with cattle
hated ranchers with sheep,
so they took ta' name callin',
an' flat out actin' rude.
But names didn't phase 'um,
an' rude acts were shunned,
so they up an' took stock,
an' began ta' shoot guns.
The death toll was mountin'
since both sides had dug in,
an' the townfolk were frettin',
the merchants had the runs.
It was truly unpleasant
in Pleasant Valley those days,
when hogs, sheep, an' cows
weren't the only things slaughtered.
The feud was nourished
with hate an' with malice,
an' the land quenched its thirst;
with blood it was watered.
Now Andy an' John,
Hampton an' Charles,
were heavily involved,
unlike little brother Sam.
But the deeds they were doin'
came with costs ta' be paid,
an' Hampton paid first
durin' a lead-belly jam.
The shootout took place
on the Middleton ranch,
it was August the tenth,
eighteen-eighty an' seven.
Yet the sins were a mountin',
the collector would call,
in less than two months
there'd be little left of clan Blevins.
But first came a crime
so heinous in nature,
it is hard ta' believe
it was humans, not dogs.
When Andy led the raid,
killin' John Tewksbury an' Bill Jacobs,
he then kept Tewk's wife at bay,
an' fed the bodies ta' the hogs.
Two days later
Sheriff Perry Owens came callin'
at the Blevins ranch near Holbrook,
with a posse an' a warrant fer' Andy.
Owens was known
fer' unwavering honesty;
a crackerjack shot:
with both rifle an' six-gun he's handy.
He rode up ta' the house,
found Andy on the porch,
an' told him ta' give up,
he was under arrest.
Andy ran fer' the door,
an' fired a shot,
then Owens cut loose,
an' tore a hole in Andy's chest.
Andy reeled from the shot,
pitched backward an' then
lay dead in the arms
of his fear-sticken mother.
Owens leapt from the porch,
just as John fired a round,
so Owens fired again;
down went another Blevins brother.
Then quick as a wink
Owens turned an' flung lead,
right into Mose Roberts,
one shot ta' the head.
It made such a mess,
it splattered his brains;
this brother-in-law
was the second one dead.
A split-second more,
comin' out thru the door,
little Sam Houston,
But Owens cut loose,
four fer' four was his count,
as he sent the teen boy
to a spirit-filled land.
In a matter of seconds
three dead an' one wounded:
John was the only one
lucky enough ta' keep livin'.
Cuz' his last brother Charles,
bit the dust three weeks later,
who was better at givin'.
John learned from the lesson,
the close call he had,
he cleaned up his life
an' put on a star.
that lived as he had;
provin' some men do change,
an' become better by far.