The Rosas Affair. Donald L. Lucero

this was accomplished, the viceroy said, “Senores y Caballeros, Gentlemen, I give you don Luis de Rosas, military commander, captain-general, governor of New Mexico!”

      Rosas knelt at the feet of the viceroy who had remained seated throughout his investiture. The governor’s induction completed, Rosas removed his bonnet and laid it courteously in the viceroy’s hands signifying, thereby, that he was the king’s man. The viceroy accepted his hat and placed it aside. Then, putting his hands in the viceroy’s palms, and swearing to defend his lord faithfully and to protect the New Mexican kingdom from its enemies, Luis de Rosas waited for what seemed an eternity for the viceroy’s response to his gesture of vassalage.

      “You’ll meet with Fray Tomas Manso, procurador-general of the province, who is responsible for the missionary supply service and will proceed as he advises you,” the viceroy said to Rosas. And then to the members of the audiencia who had remained on their feet, the viceroy said, “We will honor the governor’s request to dispense with the festivities and entertainments this occasion would ordinarily require. Governor don Luis de Rosas has asked only that we share a glass of wine with him and that he be allowed to proceed with arrangements for going to his new home.” Finally releasing Rosas from his grasp, he stood, raised the governor to his feet, and embraced him most graciously and affectionately. Wine was poured for all present. Several toasts were offered.

      “We wish to hear of your progress as you go along your way until you are beyond sight and sound,” the viceroy said. “Please make sure that we do so. Go with God, my dear Rosas!” He then gave the governor the kiss of peace and dismissed him from his chambers.

      Several of the men with whom Luis had met followed the new governor through the heavy oaken doors of the viceregal palace and into the courtyard, ablaze in winter light. These so-called hombres ricos (the rich and powerful moguls), trim and haughty gentlemen carrying fluttering banners and Toledo blades, mounted horses that were now being brought to them. Their horses were caparisoned with silver-studded saddles, silver horseshoes, and bridles.

      The governor’s friend, the duque de Segorbe, at whose home Rosas had been staying while engaged in his many meetings with the viceroy, sprang from his own horse and held the governor’s stirrup so that he could mount. Luis hesitated for a moment, his left hand grasping the pommel of his saddle, looking down at the gentleman who knelt at his feet. Theirs was friendship of convenience only, with little pretense of affection or loyalty, and the duke, Rosas knew, would throw him to the wolves if it provided the duke with an advantage. But that was all right, Luis thought, for I would do the same. However, this incredible gesture of humility, so uncharacteristic and unexpected of a royal knight, pleased him immensely. He had arrived in New Spain without position or prospects, and was now, with the duke’s assistance, to be the ninth individual to serve as governor of New Mexico. He thanked the duke for his gesture, truly gratified that Segorbe had sought to put the stamp of importance on the event, for Rosas had only Segorbe with whom to share the proud moment. There was no one else.

      Rosas lifted himself into his saddle glittering with gold gaud interspersed with red. The governor’s boots were now adorned with the silver spurs, and he was girdled with a sword, its pommel of acacia wood wrapped in silver. On his head he wore the hat he had retrieved from the viceroy. Made by hand with the flora and fauna of his adobe kingdom sewed in with gold embroidery, it was one of the most important symbols of his office. He wielded a rod of holly in place of his lance as he and his small retinue clattered out of the courtyard.

      * * *

      On their return from the Zocalo, the central plaza around which the governor and the other members of his slight entourage had briefly ridden, Segorbe and Rosas retired to the duke’s study where they sat before his blazing fireplace. The duke smiled at the fledgling governor, a man with whom he had fought in Flanders and with whom he was now engaged in the mercantile business in New Spain. The new governor, the duke knew, was in every way excessive, headstrong, and ambitious, one of the lowest grade, who, because of his successes in battle while in Flanders, had grown so proud and arrogant that he had become insufferable to his men. Glorying in the spectacle of battle where the prize goes to the bold and the brave, he had become coarse and dogmatic, lacking any of the refinements he had pretended to when he had presented himself at the viceregal palace. He was, nevertheless, the pawn in the duke’s opening move or gambito in the duke’s attempt to gain economic advantage in Spain’s most remote Northern Kingdom. The viceroy, who had waited a long time before replacing Martinez as governor of New Mexico, had found in Luis de Rosas a ruthless soldier who would again assert civil and military control in the Northern Kingdom. This pawn, Rosas, the duke thought to himself, has reached the eighth row on the chessboard without being captured by a member of any opposing army we fought. He deserves this promotion, if not a “queening,” then a governorship. Self-styled as a grandmaster in the game of political chess, Rosas might, as the king’s knight’s pawn, eventually have to be sacrificed, as Martinez de Baeza had been, in the crown’s struggles with New Mexico’s recalcitrant colonists and priests. Segorbe’s gloomy prediction for Rosas was that he would not long endure among the New Mexican settlers. But while he survives, the duke thought, the governor’s single-mindedness and strength of purpose, uncluttered by peripheral issues, can be counted upon to make both the governor and myself a sizeable fortune.

      “Martinez is as good as dead,” the duke said to Luis while grasping and ringing the small bell that sat on his table. “You may, in conducting his residencia, appear kind and benevolent while taking whatever you damn well please.”

      “I think I can do that,” Rosas said with a broad grin. “I think I feel benevolence coming on. Almost like a seizure,” he said with a satisfied smile. “Or perhaps it’s flatulence, I don’t know. I get those two mixed up,” he added laughingly, as he requested another glass of wine from the servant who had arrived at the duke’s summons.

      The two men waited for the servant to leave before continuing their conversation regarding New Mexico. After a time the duke said in a more earnest tone, “You know, don Luis, the power is in your hands. Martinez will do whatever’s necessary to save his worthless neck, pay whatever’s required for a favorable report. He’s as good as dead,” Segorbe repeated. “And that being true, you may take the best animal in his herd.” A short pause, then he went on, “The Indians of New Mexico are required to pay tribute and Martinez knows the business of maize and mantas and skins. He can be made to pass the business on to you. That’s the way it is,” he said emphatically. “You’re to be paid two thousand pesos annually for your service as governor of New Mexico, hardly enough to get you there and to support you in anything befitting your position, and certainly less than the eight thousand you paid to secure the post. And, by the way,” he added, pointing a long bony finger at the new governor, “don’t forget that you owe me four thousand of that. We have to make a profit on our investment. And both the crown and the viceroy are prepared to tolerate our business enterprises so long as the sounds of weeping and wailing and the gnashing of teeth do not reach their ears. The decade of exemption for the Pueblos has passed,” he added, “and a workforce in New Mexico, both unpaid and forced, is readily available. Your plan should be as we sketched it: to divide and conquer. It shouldn’t be difficult, Luis. The colonists and Indians there carry either a candle or a club. Your goal should be as we outlined it, to castrate the colonists while separating both the colonists and the Indians from their priests. I look forward to receiving your mantas and skins when your carretas return with the wagon train,” he said again, smiling, while reaching for a bag that he had placed beneath the table and rising to his feet. “I give you this as a token of our contract.” The duke handed the governor a velvet bag in which a chess set had been placed. “To New Mexico!” he said as he raised his glass in a toast. “May it reward us greatly!”

      2

      Fray Tomas Manso and the Service of Missionary Supply

      The governor dismounted from his horse in the shadow of the convento and proceeded to its gate, slapping at his thigh with the short whip he carried in his hand. Reaching the porteria (convento gate) of the walled enclosure, he tapped on it lightly with the butt of his crop, then more soundly, finally beating on its wooden staves with his closed fist. “Goddamn it!” he yelled, as