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Description
For your kind consideration I have been blessed to acquire exceedingly rare (original) 19th century glass plate negatives of Old Western Cowboys, Indians, Performers and Gun Slingers in my present listings. These photographs were taken by the personal photographer for William Buffalo Bill Cody and William Frank “Doc” Carver. This exceedingly rare 5 x 7 inch glass negative shows the original musings/poetry by Jack Crawford over the death of George Custer. Here is the poetry in full:
By Captain Jack Crawford
Did I hear the news from Custer?
Well I reckon I did, old pard;
It came like a streak of lightnin',
And, you bet, it hit me hard.
I ain't no hand to blubber,
And the briny ain't run for years;
But chalk me down for a lubber,
If I didn't shed regular tears.
What for? Now look ye here, Bill,
You're a bully boy, that's true;
As good as e'er wore buckskin,
Or fought with the boys in blue;
But I'll bet my bottom dollar
Ye had no trouble to muster
A tear, or perhaps a hundred,
When ye heard of the death of Custer.
He always thought well of you, pard,
And had it been Heaven's will,
In a few more days you'd met him,
And he'd welcomed his old scout, Bill.
For, if ye remember, at Hat Creek
I met ye with General Carr;
We talked of the brave young Custer,
And recounted his deeds of war.
But little we knew even then, pard
(And that's just two weeks ago,
How little we dreamed of disaster,
Or that he had met the foe) —
That the fearless, reckless hero,
So loved by the whole frontier,
Had died on the field of battle
In this our centennial year.
I served with him in the army
In the darkest days of the war;
And I reckon ye know his record,
For he was our guiding star.
And the boys who gathered round him
To charge in the early morn,
War just like the brave who perished
With him on the Little Horn.
And where is the satisfaction,
And how are we going to get square?
By giving the Reds more rifles?
Invite them to take more hair?
We want no scouts, no trappers,
Nor men who know the frontier?
Phil, old boy, you're mistaken —
You must have the volunteer.
They talk about peace with these demons
By feeding and clothing them well;
I'd as soon think an angel from heaven
Would reign with contentment in hell;
And some day these Quakers will answer
Before the great Judge of us all,
For the death of our daring young Custer,
And the boys who around him did fall.
Perhaps I am judging them harshly,
But I mean what I'm telling ye, pard;
I'm letting them down mighty easy —
Perhaps they may think it is hard.
But I tell ye the day is approaching —
The boys are beginning to muster,
That day of the great retribution —
The day of revenge for our Custer.
And I will be with you, friend Cody,
My mite will go in with the boys;
I shared all their hardships last winter,
I shared all their sorrows and joys;
So tell them I'm coming, friend William,
I trust I will meet you ere long;
Regards to the boys in the mountains,
Yours truly, in friendship still strong.
*Please take a moment to examine my other negatives currently listed from this historic find.
William Frank Doc Carver (May 7, 1851 – August 31, 1927) was a late 19th-century sharpshooter and the creator of a popular diving horse attraction. There is a great deal of information found on this iconic old West Suprerstar.
By Captain Jack Crawford
Did I hear the news from Custer?
Well I reckon I did, old pard;
It came like a streak of lightnin',
And, you bet, it hit me hard.
I ain't no hand to blubber,
And the briny ain't run for years;
But chalk me down for a lubber,
If I didn't shed regular tears.
What for? Now look ye here, Bill,
You're a bully boy, that's true;
As good as e'er wore buckskin,
Or fought with the boys in blue;
But I'll bet my bottom dollar
Ye had no trouble to muster
A tear, or perhaps a hundred,
When ye heard of the death of Custer.
He always thought well of you, pard,
And had it been Heaven's will,
In a few more days you'd met him,
And he'd welcomed his old scout, Bill.
For, if ye remember, at Hat Creek
I met ye with General Carr;
We talked of the brave young Custer,
And recounted his deeds of war.
But little we knew even then, pard
(And that's just two weeks ago,
How little we dreamed of disaster,
Or that he had met the foe) —
That the fearless, reckless hero,
So loved by the whole frontier,
Had died on the field of battle
In this our centennial year.
I served with him in the army
In the darkest days of the war;
And I reckon ye know his record,
For he was our guiding star.
And the boys who gathered round him
To charge in the early morn,
War just like the brave who perished
With him on the Little Horn.
And where is the satisfaction,
And how are we going to get square?
By giving the Reds more rifles?
Invite them to take more hair?
We want no scouts, no trappers,
Nor men who know the frontier?
Phil, old boy, you're mistaken —
You must have the volunteer.
They talk about peace with these demons
By feeding and clothing them well;
I'd as soon think an angel from heaven
Would reign with contentment in hell;
And some day these Quakers will answer
Before the great Judge of us all,
For the death of our daring young Custer,
And the boys who around him did fall.
Perhaps I am judging them harshly,
But I mean what I'm telling ye, pard;
I'm letting them down mighty easy —
Perhaps they may think it is hard.
But I tell ye the day is approaching —
The boys are beginning to muster,
That day of the great retribution —
The day of revenge for our Custer.
And I will be with you, friend Cody,
My mite will go in with the boys;
I shared all their hardships last winter,
I shared all their sorrows and joys;
So tell them I'm coming, friend William,
I trust I will meet you ere long;
Regards to the boys in the mountains,
Yours truly, in friendship still strong.
*Please take a moment to examine my other negatives currently listed from this historic find.
William Frank Doc Carver (May 7, 1851 – August 31, 1927) was a late 19th-century sharpshooter and the creator of a popular diving horse attraction. There is a great deal of information found on this iconic old West Suprerstar.
