The Rosas Affair. Donald L. Lucero

and reverting to the governor’s more formal title, “except to say that I’ve been deeply honored to have carried out many commissions for the governors under whom I’ve served. My services have been very generously rewarded, far in excess of what I deserve. There are, however, over forty thousand Christianized Indians living in forty-three pueblos in New Mexico, and the range of our responsibilities is enormous.”

      “And the tribute consists of . . . ?”

      “Maize and a manta or animal skin, collected twice a year,” Gomez responded. “The manta is a piece of cotton cloth six palms square, reckoned in price at six reales. A buckskin, bison hide, or a light or heavy elk skin of the same value, may be substituted for a manta,” Gomez said, “with cloth and skins collected in May and a fanega of corn in October after the harvest.” 4

      “And what do the Indians get for all of this?” Rosas asked.

      “It’s difficult to say, Governor,” Gomez responded pensively. “As vassals of the crown they’re required to pay tribute. And the king has granted us encomiendas for our pledge to defend the land at our own expense. Those of us who have been designated as encomenderos are to maintain arms and horses, live in Santa Fe, and respond to the governor’s call to arms at a moment’s notice. We ride escort, serve as guards, and command levies from colonists and Indian auxiliaries in the colony’s defense. We like to think we make the kingdom a safer place to live, but in truth, your Lordship, I think the Indians get little from what we offer. We defend them from the vaqueros as best we can, but there are few of us, many of them, and millions of miles to cover. We assure the safety of the friars so that the Pueblos 5 are instructed in Christianity and in the ways of civilization, but, really, the Indians want little of that. They do not get much of what they truly want or need from Spanish authority.”

      “Are all the pueblos allotted?” Rosas asked. “My instructions say only that the crown has reserved the right to collect tribute from principal towns and seaports, and I know there are none of the latter there.”

      “Tribute from the native settlements has been conceded by the crown to the colonists themselves. Approximately sixty so-called ‘units of ‘entrustment’ have been allotted during the past forty years,” Gomez explained.

      “There was a time, Governor, when the number of pueblos may have exceeded the one hundred and thirty-four named by Onate. These were small and large villages containing from twenty to seven hundred and fifty rooms, some with defensive walls such as at Pecos. But the Pueblos were constantly on the move,” he explained, “uniting and then dispersing like bees in a hive. Whole tribes have disappeared, extinguished by warfare and by assimilation, some of the latter forced on them by us. In the fifty years from the initiation of the colonization by Onate to your administration, the number of pueblos has been reduced by two-thirds, so that now there are fewer than fifty of them left. Several of these pueblos are unassigned, but the fact that they have not been allotted undoubtedly means that they have little to offer in the way of tribute. Still, Governor, they’re there. And they may be awarded by you to whomever you wish so long as your awards do not compromise the awards of your predecessors,” he concluded, warning the governor by his words that he knew the authority under which he held his claims.

      The governor looked at Gomez in deliberation, saying finally, “There’s much to consider regarding these encomiendas, much to consider. Your thoughts and the information you’ve provided have been of considerable assistance to me. I’d like these discussions regarding New Mexico to continue as we go along our way.” He waited a long moment before continuing, saying finally, “But please, finish your soup. Take the rest of it. I need something more. Something to deal with this god-damned constipation,” he added while rubbing his distended stomach. “Would you like some more?” he asked, regarding the soup.

      “No, thank you, Governor.”

      “When your work allows,” Rosas continued, “I’d like you to dine with me.”

      “When my work allows,” Gomez responded. Taking the governor’s words and tone as a cue for his dismissal, he rose from his cushion, excused himself, and moved toward the entrance where he said. “You might have one of your servants find some acacia, agave or algerita, your Lordship. All of them are good for constipation. If they can’t identity these plants,” he added, “tell them to ask one of my men. Have them make a tea of it,” he added as he left the tent.

      4

      On the Trail

      ZACATECAS. THREE WEEKS LATER

      What’s that ahead—Zacatecas?” asked the governor regarding the hump-backed mountain somewhat resembling a hog bladder which loomed on the northern horizon.

      “The home of the Onates,” Francisco Gomez responded, pointing to the promontory of La Bufa crowned by bare greenish rock. “Its mines, perhaps the best ever found in the Americas, helped to finance the settlement of your New Mexican Kingdom.” He brought his horse up so that he was riding beside the governor. “There was a time, Governor, not so long ago,” he continued, “when we could not have approached this villa without arms. The Chichimecas, or the dirty, uncivilized dogs, as we were prone to call them, were incredibly fierce warriors—cannibals even—who inhabited the deserts and sierras of this region just a short time ago. They’re largely gone now,” Gomez said, “killed or shipped off to the docks at Vera Cruz or to mines throughout the kingdom, men who’ve been changed from lions into hens. It’s too bad,” he said in rueful admiration. “They had much to admire, for they possessed courage inferior to no one, and before our arrival, they never knew slavery or servitude. We may see a few of those remaining in the market place or along the road, their bodies clothed now, and their voices stilled. We may see them, but they will not be the people they once were, for we took what they had and left them a sad and broken people with no interest in, or aptitude for, village life. They’re neither civilized nor productive members of the Spanish community,” he said as he reigned up at the train’s approach to an obvious fork in the road. “Do you wish to enter the city?” he asked of the governor. “Your host here will be the local superior or father guardian at the Parroquia de San Francisco de Zacatecas. The convento itself, however, is in open country at some distance from the town, so that unless you wish to do so, we’re not required to enter the city to visit the parroquia which is just down this road.”

      “I don’t think it will be necessary to go into the city and I’ll take advantage of the guardian’s generosity as long as I don’t have to do the stations,” Rosas laughed, registering his dislike for visiting churches. We’ll take advantage of the fathers’ hospitality, but I’d like to be on our way again as soon as possible.”

      “As you wish, Governor.”

      SANTA BARBARA

      Leaving the Custody of Zacatecas where its father guardian had sought to instruct Luis de Rosas about a governor’s proper relationship to the Church, the party passed through Sombrerete and Durango. Trudging ever northward, the caravan finally crossed the Nazas, a fast, wide, deep, sediment-laden river, the color of rust, which raced through a broad, fertile valley below Santa Barbara. This was the jumping-off point for the New Mexican Kingdom. It was from this mining town, founded among the Conchos Indians by Rodrigo del Rio de Losa, that the most important New Mexican expeditions had embarked.

      “The expeditions of Agustin Rodriguez and Francisco Sanchez Chamuscado, Bernardino Beltran and Antonio de Espejo left from this town, and Juan de Onate’s second inspection was conducted here,” Gomez said. “It was here, too, that his retreating colonists, when deserting the kingdom only four years later, sought shelter in the arms of Nueva Vizcayan authorities. This is where it all came apart for don Juan,” Gomez added, “here in these mesquite groves, among these naked and poor Indians. I pray that, in your quest for an orderly and decent life in the New Mexican Kingdom, that you’ll be more successful.”

      “Is there anything to be learned from all of this?” The governor asked.

      “Only that New Mexico presents an incredible challenge for one who would attempt to govern it,” Gomez said, “for New Mexico is not a castle, but