“I think if we park here and walk around Santa Fé we can see St. Francis where “La Conquístadora” is still on display, and Loretto academy where my mother went to school after her father died. Then, well find a nice to have lunch and take a siesta.” Mom said maneuvering the Escort® into a parking place at an odd angle.
“¡La Conquístadora! Isn’t that the little statue they carried out of Santa Fé when the Indians rebelled in 1680?” Lynae startled Mom with the enthusiasm in her voice.
“And just as carefully escorted back at the Reconquest.” Brent added confidentially. “She was dressed like a Spanish queen, and known as “The Queen of the Kingdom of New Mexico and its Villa of Santa Fe.”
“She is the saint who the colonists revered for saving our lives and ensuring victory for the Reconquest. In 1694 they started celebrating every year by taking her to the place where we camped to pray for safety and victory. They built a shrine with tree branches and held a novena and Mass. This is the oldest Marian festival in America.”[1]
“My, my, you two have been studying my New Mexico history materials on the sly.”
“Well, you know, these people are family.” Brent said smugly winking at Lynae. “And some of that stuff can get pretty interesting when you actually get into it.”
The morning flew by quickly as they walked the narrow streets of Santa Fé, filled with a carnival like atmosphere during the summer festivals. Vendors and bazaar booths filled both sides of the streets in additions to the myriad of small stores selling specialty souvenirs and historical items.
At the Palace of Governors the previous day they had been told that because all of Santa Fé is a protected archeological site, whenever any hole is dug it has to be approved, and the archeologists have first privilege. So any time a gas line or phone cable has to be dug, the street might stay dug up for weeks while the archeologists sift through the dirt for layers of historical specimens from past centuries.
Even when the palace was built there, centuries of civilizations were uncovered, showing that this had always been a very important trade route. “I liked that one story about the tree. “ Lynae remembered. “They wanted to plant a new tree for the visit from the king of Spain some years ago, and in digging a three-foot cube hole, they found tons of relics[2]. We saw a lot of those are in the museum.”
“Mom, it’s getting so hot, and I’m really tired. Can we go eat lunch now?”
“Not yet, Lynae, look there it is -- Loretto Academy, or rather Hotel Loretto. I guess it’s not a school so much any more, but it’s where my mother went to school her first three years. There’s a sign where we can go in and at least see the stair case.” Mom said encouraging her lagging daughter.
“What stair case is that?” Lynae asked with little interest.
“We’ll go in and hear the story.“
Inside the little chapel the air felt cool and comfortable. Lynae collapsed onto a pew near the back to rest. Brent began inspecting each nook and cranny of the chapel and Mom settled in to listen to the recorded messages and enjoy the beautifully depicted Stations of the Cross along the walls.
‘Oo, I’ve got to find a restroom; it’s probably out by the gift shop. I want to pick up some post cards and pictures while I’m out there, so you two stay in here and get some rest from history, and I’ll be right back. Then, Lynae, I promise we’ll go eat.”
“At the Blue Corn Tortilla®?”
“If we can find it, we’ll eat at the Blue Corn Tortilla®.” Mom nodded in agreement.
The mid morning sun shone through the stained glass windows and a recorded message began playing for the small group of tourists as Brent settled into the pew next to his lethargic sister.
The Inexplicable Stairs
Answer to a Prayer to St. Joseph[3]
“In September 1852 the Sisters of Loretto came by paddle steamer and by covered wagon to the southwest. Their trip had begun in Kentucky the previous May on a steamer named The Lady Franklin, which took them up the Mississippi to St. Louis. From St. Louis to Independence, Missouri, they took the Kansas, but on the way a calamity befell the little community of nuns. Their superior, Mother Mathilda, took the cholera and died shortly after arrival in Independence. Two other Sisters also had the disease but they improved.
“Eighteen fifty two, -- just before the Gadsden Purchase.” Brent remembered the great celebration at Mesilla. “So there was already a lot of our family in the area and near Bernalillo and Belen.”
After more months of struggles and fears, broken axles and wheels, sights of dried to chalk bones and scorching days, what was left of the group finally arrived in Santa Fé, New Mexico. Four nuns arrived to establish the community. At the request of Bishop Lamy, Sister Magdalene was appointed superior of the group by the motherhouse. She was a woman of faith and resolution and the situation she and her Sisters faced was a difficult one.”
“Boy it sounds like our trip north for the resettlement.” Brent whispered to Lynae. Lynae nodded drowsily in agreement.
“Remember all the hazards of a journey in a covered wagon? Imagine these little nuns enduring all that!” she added.
“It was only because these sisters of Loretto were great women thoroughly permeated with the love of God that they were able to brave the hardships of those first years. Because the country was still raw and unsettled, they had no comfortable convent waiting for them on arrival. They lived at first in a little, one-room adobe house. The little town of Santa Fé was made up mostly of Indians and Mexicans at that time.”
Lynae stirred as she heard the whooshing sound of the nuns walking by in their long black robes, and right away she recognized all the signs of changing centuries, and the listlessness left her.
“Bishop Lamy has directed us to teach these frontier people,” Sister Magdalene was saying to the others. “If we are to be effective in this calling, we must have a nice building for a chapel and a school. And we need a place to live ourselves.”
Lynae realized Sister Magdalene was talking to Brent who was standing in a group of Mexican carpenters. She was directing them on how to lay out the arrangement of buildings. “When the school is completed it will be called Loretto Academy of Our Lady of Light.”
Construction began immediately. Lynae worked with the nuns and other women of the parish preparing meals for the carpenters, even helping teach the little children who were beginning to attend school.
“Boy, construction sure goes faster without electric wiring and plumbing.” Brent commented to Lynae one evening over supper. “Yes, we’re already to begin work on the chapel. I’ve seen Bishop Lamy’s drawings; it will be such a beautiful chapel.”
“I know, Brent, we were just sitting in it a minute ago. Remember!”
“The chapel was begun on July 25 of that same year. The same architect, Mr. Mole, who designed the cathedral in Santa Fé, designed this one. Because Bishop Lamy was from France, he wished the Sisters to have a chapel that was similar to his beloved Saint Chapel in Paris. That means that it was to be strictly Gothic, the first Gothic structure west of the Mississippi River.
Brent grew more excited as he assisted the builders on the new structure.
It should be very large,” Bishop Lamy had stressed. ”Larger in fact, than most of the mission chapels in this area; I want it to be 25 feet by 75 feet with a height of 85 feet.”
Mother Magdalene reported to the other nuns, “We have placed this chapel under the patronage of St. Joseph, in whose honor we communicate every Wednesday, praying that he might assist us."
Each Wednesday the Sisters met and prayed especially for the work of the building and shared the testimonies they had of St. Joseph’s intervention and assistance. "Of his powerful help we have been witness on several occasions." Sister Magdalene reported as the construction of the chapel neared completion. The chapel work progressed with some financial worries and a maximum of faith on the part of the sisters.”
Lynae stood in the middle of the floor of the nearly completed chapel. “Sister Magdalene,” she asked respectfully. “I don’t mean to criticize or anything, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but ummm, I was wondering, how are we going to get up to the choir loft to sing?”
Mother Magdalene looked at the young girl standing there in front of her. Then she looked up at the choir loft, built high above the back of the chapel. She looked toward the front of the chapel, and than again toward the choir loft, and finally understood the terrible error that had been made. While building the choir and the chapel separate teams had made no arrangement to join the two together. The exceptionally high loft stood unapproachable except by a ladder. No stairway joined it to the chapel, and there was no space to build one.
Brent and Lynae listened as Mother Magdalene called in many carpenters to try to build a stairway.
“Can you find a way to build a stairway to the loft without taking up most of the Chapel?” she asked each one that was sent to her.
Brent assisted each one as they measured and looked for a way, but each shook his head sadly and reported: "It can't be done."
“You might try using a ladder,” one suggested. “We could secure it to the wall.”
“Well I can’t see the sisters and the young ladies climbing a ladder in order to sing in the choir.” Mother Magdalene stated defiantly. “And I know it is God’s will that we have singing in our chapel.”
Others suggested tearing down the back side of the building, enlarging it and building in a stairway in the enlarged area, but the thought of undoing any of the finished building was too heartbreaking to even be considered.
“These nuns have traveled through the wilderness, given up their families and their own lives, and dedicated their lives to God.” Brent said discussing the matter with Lynae one evening when they were alone. “They don’t give up easily, and I think they will find a way.”
“Well, duh, Brent, you know they did find a way. We saw the staircase. We were just there.”
“Well, then we know they do find a way, but so far every single carpenter has insisted that there is no way to build stairs without taking up most of the chapel floor.”
Mother Magdalene discussed it with the sisters at the Wednesday prayer meeting and then suggested, "Let's wait a while and make a novena." Lynae learned from some of the nuns that a was a Latin word meaning nine, and they would pray the novena rosary for nine days to ask for this special blessing Because the sisters of Loretto are so devoted to St. Joseph, they made a novena to him for a suitable solution to the problem.
“Mother Superior?” Lynae tapped gently on the new door of the school office. There is a gray haired gentleman here with a donkey. He says he wants to help. So I came to get you.”
“Oh, child, this is the last day of the novena and I planned to spend the day in prayer, but I cannot turn away someone in need. Show him to the refectory and get him a meal, then I will meet with him.”
Brent took the strange man’s donkey to the watering trough and then to the stable area to brush its coat, while Lynae followed the Mother Superior’s direction. He noticed the toolbox strapped to the donkey, and carefully removed it, placing it on the carpenter’s bench nearby; curious about what marvelous tools might hold. When Mother Magdalene approached the gentle old man, asking how she could help him, he humbly asked her if he might try to help the Sisters by building a stairway!
“Can you do that?” Mother Magdalene asked somewhat incredulous after having been told so many times it was impossible. But holding to the faith she had in her novena and prayers, she gave her consent gladly, and the old carpenter set to work that very day. Brent ran to get the toolbox, and was disappointed on opening it to see that there was nothing more than a hammer, a saw and a T-square.
”How will you build such a magnificent stair case that you have drawn there with such simple tools?” Brent asked as he worked by his side. Day after day he worked. Every day but the Sabbath, the work went forward for nearly eight months. Some days the detail work was so intricate and time consuming; it was difficult for Lynae to see what progress had taken place as she inspected it each evening.
The recorded message continued describing the staircase to the tourists as Lynae stirred in the pew:
“The winding stairway that the old man left for the sisters is a masterpiece of beauty and wonder. It makes two complete 360-degree turns. There is no supporting pole up the center as most circular stairways have. This means that it hangs there with no support. The entire weight is on the base. Some architects have said that by all laws of gravity, it should have crashed to the floor the minute anyone stepped on it and yet it has been used daily for over a hundred years.”
Mother Magdalene inspected the final craftsmanship of the staircase. “Brent, find the carpenter so we can pay him, although no amount of money could possibly compensate for this beautiful hand crafted beauty. “
”Mother, he’s gone.” Brent returned from his assignment. “The donkey and tool chest are gone too. I have looked everywhere, and there are not even tracks leading away from the stable. I know he was here this morning when we put the final wax polish on the wood, but now, he’s just -- gone.”
“Come with me then to the lumber yard. We shall at least pay for the wood.” Brent and Lynae escorted the pleasant nun to the lumberyard.
“Brent, please ask the clerk at the desk how much we owe.”
“Mother Magdalene has money to pay for the lumber that had been used in building the staircase at the new chapel. How much does she owe here?”
“I know nothing of wood for the staircase. “ The clerk answered. I have wondered over the past months where the builder was getting his lumber. We carry nothing like it and I don’t even know where one could purchase such fine wood. I wish I could accept payment, but it did not come from here.”
Many of the carpenters that had refused the job had come by the chapel to inspect the finished product and wonder over it. The recorded message described it:
“The stairway was put together only with wooden pegs -- there was not a nail in it. The part under the treads and between the stringers is a lime plaster with horsehair to strengthen it. At the time it was built, the stairway had no banisters.
“Our next project will be to add hand railings to protect the young ladies as they climb the stairs.” Mother Magdalene announced. Lynae stirred again to push Brent away from her. He was poking her arm to get her attention.
He reached across the velvet rope separating the visitors from the stairway and rubbed his hand along the smooth wood.
“Banisters were added four or five years later.” The recorded message informed the tourists at the gift shop, continuing to explain:
“Among the girls who attended the academy at the time the stairway was constructed was a girl of about thirteen years. She later became a Loretto Sister, and was the first to climb up the stairway. She said that before the banister was built, they were so frightened when they got up to the choir that they came down on their hands and knees.
Visitors have come from all over the world to see the wonderful stairway. Among them have been architects who, without exception, say they cannot understand how the stairway was constructed, nor how it remains as sturdy as it is after almost a century of use.”
“Mr. Urban C. Weidner, a Santa Fé architect and wood expert states that he has never seen a circular wooden stairway with two 360 degree turns that did not have a supporting pole down the center. One of the most baffling things about the stairway however is the perfection of the curves of the stringers, according to Mr. Weidner. He tells me that the wood is spliced along the sides of the stringers with nine splices on the outside and seven on the inside. Each piece is perfectly curved. How a single man in did this in the 1870’s and out-of-the-way place with only the most primitive tools has never been explained.
“Many experts have tried to identify the wood and surmise where it came from. No one has ever been able to give a full report on it. The treads have been constantly walked on since the stairway was built. They show signs of wear only on the edges. Mr. Weidner identifies this wood as ‘edge-grained fir of some sort.’ He knows definitely that this hard-working wood did not come from New Mexico. Where the old carpenter go that wood and the identity of the rest of the wood is a mystery.
“The sisters at Loretto Academy say that the stairway is St. Joseph’s answer to prayers. Many like to think that the carpenter was St. Joseph, himself. The Chapel of Our Lady of Light was dedicated on April 25, 1878.”
“Well, what do you think of the stairway?” Mom asked returning with a hand full of postcards and a printed article about the building of the stairs.
“I think it is one of the most beautiful pieces of construction that I have ever seen,” Brent stated frankly admiring the craftsmanship.
“What do you think of the legend?” Mom inquired.
“Well, I for one didn’t see any load of wood when I took care of the donkey.” Brent puzzled.
“What?” Mom answered distracted by the task of finding her way out through the exit.“So are we going to eat now, Mom?” Lynae interrupted
[1] The full detailed story of image and shrines is told in the book, La Conquistadora: the autobiography of an ancient stature. This bit of information was taken from a pamphlet at St. Francis in Santa Fe.
[2] Tour guide at Palace of Governors, Santa Fé, New Mexico
[3] Inexplicable Stair Case. Recording and booklet at Loretto. Much of this chapter is quoted or paraphrased from this story. Change of font indicates direct quote.
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