Bonnie and Sarah pulled Brent by the legs. “Come back inside. You’ll get electrocuted with the lightening. “ Uncle’ Glenn’s daughters were entertaining their cousins during the afternoon rainstorm. But when it changed to hail, Brent had wanted to stick his hand out the window to catch some, and caught a bolt of electric shock instead.
“Why don’t you kids get a little wood for the fireplace before it gets any wetter? It looks like this storm is going to last a while. ”Uncle Glenn had suggested from the kitchen table where he was putting the finishing touches on the weekly edition of the Round Valley Paper. There’s wood cut and stacked on the porch, so you won’t have to get wet.
“It’s surprising how cold it can get in the White Mountains in the summer.” Mom agreed, as she observed her older brother at work. “Better grab your jacket, Lynae, I don’t want you getting all wet and cold.”
Brent shuddered against the arctic blast of wind that struck him as he found himself on a back porch in Quemado, New Mexico. The year was 1922, and it was a cold December morning.
"Eliseo, Marian," their grandfather Baca called from the door. Bring Lucy inside, I must talk to you. The children obediently went into the house; Grandfather did not seem to notice Lynae and Brent follow them in.
"Is Papa awake?" Eliseo bravely asked. "We have to talk to him. We have to tell him some things." Eliseo spoke as confidently as he could to his grandfather.
"Your papa is home, but you cannot talk to him; he is very ill with influenza. The doctor says he is not going to get well."
Eliseo explained to Brent and Lynae that their father had been out in the pasture two days before and had come home very ill. They had never seen him so ill; the doctor had been at the house several times.
The doctor came from Nazario Baca's bedroom and shut the door; he looked at the children, looked at their grandfather and shook his head. "He is gone," was all he said, but we all knew he meant that Nazario Garcia Baca was dead from pneumonia and complications of influenza. It was December 6, 1922. He was buried the next day in the Quemado Cemetery next to his beloved Clara. All over the world the influenza had been taking lives by the thousands. There were no medicines, nothing to stop the illness once it took over, and it spread among communities and countries as the soldiers returned from war and pilgrims made their way to safer places to avoid the illness, it traveled with them til it had spread over the entire world in just a few months. The plague of influenza lasted only a few years, but depopulated entire cities and countries[1].
"What will happen to us now?" ten year old Marian questioned her grandfather. “Where will we go? Where will we live?"
"You can't make us stay with the step mother. She is cruel to Lucy and she frightens us." Eliseo took on new courage and strength in this moment of loss.
Grandfather Baca giving due consideration to the situation, finally announced: "I will take you back to Santa Fé with me. There is a school there, Loretto Academy, where my two daughters are nuns; they teach school there. It is a good school and you will be well taken care of by the sisters of Loretto. We were planning to take you there, and Lucy would have followed in a few years. Eliseo, you will return to St. Michael’s Academy, for boys, in Santa Fé. It will take time to make the arrangements. You will stay with my brother Ramon García and his wife, Anita. Immediately after the funeral you will go home with them."
"What if our step mother will not let us go with you?" Eliseo asked pragmatically, knowing that to cross her would bring punishment.
"She will not have any say in the matter. Her husband is dead; she no longer has any custody of you children. I am your grandfather, and I will take charge of you. I will see that she does not ever bother you again."
Lynae and Brent returned in March 1923, to accompany Lucy and Marian to Santa Fé. It would be fun to see the town again, and they looked forward to getting acquainted with these two very special little girls.
The trip back north to Santa Fé was a long train ride for the children. Lynae held five year old Lucy most of the way seeing that she was kept warm, and rubbed her back gently when she seemed to be agitated or frightened. Lynae began to sing the little ditty she had sung on the trail so many times before. "Sana Sana colita de marana, si no sanas hoy, sanaras manana." Ten year old Marian sat bravely between Eliseo and Brent, trying to sit like a little lady of great courage.
Santa Fé still looked like it did the last time they were there, nearly a hundred years ago in their adventure time continuum, except for the Loretto Academy. It was completed and a very busy place. Three centuries of white wash sparkled on the older Santa Fe buildings in the early spring sunshine.
They were met at the train station and taken to Loretto Academy by car. The aunt nuns took the two little girls straight to the dormitory of the academy. They didn't have to ask any questions to know that these little girls needed nursing and care. They glanced questioningly at Lynae and Brent, but were more concerned about the two little nieces. Grandfather Baca made the financial arrangements, opened a bank account in their name and went on about his business, leaving two very frightened little girls in a strange land, at a strange school, in the care of two aunts who before that day had been unknown to them.
Brent and Lynae wondered how Lucy would live through the night, much less to grow up to be their grandmother and great grandmother to their own children in the twenty-first century. At dinner that night Marian and Lucy were led into the refectory. Marian began to cough, and Lucy followed. They were removed immediately to the infirmary as the nuns recognized the tell-tale symptoms of whooping cough. Lynae looked around for Brent, and not seeing him asked one of the girls she saw wearing the school uniform. “Where did they take Lucy Cow and Auntie Marian?”
“Who’s Auntie Marian?” The girl looked puzzled. “You better put on a clean uniform and report to the chapel before you get in trouble.” Lynae didn’t know what else to do, but she wasn’t sure where the dormitory was. She stumbled into the chapel and recognized the beautiful circular staircase. There was Brent, inspecting the miraculous structure, reverently touching the under part of the staircase.
“That pitchy wood made a roaring fire in a hurry.” Uncle Glenn spoke, startling Brent from his trance. “Maybe now, your mom will make some of her famous fudge and we can all play a round of Scrabble with Aunt Dorothy.” Uncle Glenn suggested, rubbing his hands together to soak in the heat from the wood fire. Brent and Sarah agreed, as they also warmed their hands over the fire.
Lynae looked around the room and for a minute still wondered where little Auntie Marian and Grandma Lucy had disappeared to.
[1] The American Experience - Influenza 1918
From PBS.
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/amex/influenza/ (web site from PBS 1918 influenza)
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
World War II
WORLD WARS
“Mom, we were talking about World War I and II in our history class. Were you alive during the wars?”
Grandma Lucy (Uncle) Frank Glenn Daddy (Charles Glenn Jacobs. Glenn)
C. Glenn & Lucy
“Thanks a lot Brent. I’m old, but not ancient. Even MY mother was not born ‘til after World War I. My dad was born in 1907, so he was younger than you when that war was fought. And, I remember my mother saying that when World War II started, he was really too old to enlist, he had two kids already, but he wanted to do his part for the war effort, and he enlisted as a Sea Bea or CB -- a navy construction worker.”
“So when were you born?”
“1949. World War II had been over for nearly five years. It’s funny though, I remember watching news shows and movies about the war when I was little and thinking, ‘why do they keep talking about this? It’s ancient history.’ Now I realize how time plays tricks on you and five or ten years for me now is nothing...except when I am away from my kids, then it a month is forever.”
“What was it like during the war time for your parents?”
“Railroads had become the main means of transportation. Cars were becoming more popular, but during the wars gas was rationed and rubber tires were really hard to get. Well, I guess during the Second World War, my parents had just been married a couple of years. They were living in Concho where the Candelaria brothers had married Mother’s two sisters and established ranches. Daddy had the Shell® trading post just at the entrance of town from St. Johns. Uncle Glenn was a baby when my dad joined the navy, and then Mother says he came home on leave one week and announced it was time for the next child, that would be your Uncle Duane.”
“I thought you said he had two kids already when he went.”
“The other one was my half sister, from an earlier marriage. Your granddad was actually married three times. Aunt Marie and I got really excited when we learned that our half sister had a daughter, because that would be our half niece, so together we thought we could make a whole aunt.”
“That sounds like some of our half step siblings once removed by a couple of divorces in the family.” Brent joked.
“Well, I’ve heard if you laid all the divorced people out end to end,” Mom started out seriously, “they’d be a lot more comfortable.”
“Well, if the jokes don’t improve, I’ve got American history to study for an exam.”
“What are you studying now, Brent?” Mom asked showing a distracted interest in his schoolwork.
“Well, duhh, Mom," Lynae interrupted, “Maybe World War I and II?”
“Again, about all I know about World Wars is what I learned from John Wayne movies. How did it effect New Mexico, Brent? Remember some of the displays at the museum just before we got back to Arizona in Deming, or was it Lords?”
“Where it was raining so hard you said you just couldn’t drive through it so we would have to visit just one more museum?” Brent laughed.
“Well that one turned out to be pretty good with the doll displays and dresses from the past.” Lynae defended.
“Remember the exhibits you liked, Brent, about the army clothes, medals, and weapons from the world wars.”
“And the street with the old cars and little shops like a real miniature town.”
“I remember now, there was like a beauty shop and dentist, and a bunch of others.”
“Remember how loud the rain was on that tin roof? I’m glad we weren’t trying to drive through it!” Mom reminded them.
“There was a lot of stuff about the World Wars at the railroad museum in Belen too,” Lynae remembered.
“Those little displays had authentic items typical of that era.”
Brent got more enthusiastic about the history assignment. “Just before World War I, there was a lot of trouble in Mexico itself, which is called the Mexican revolution.” After he related this bit of information, he turned to his reference book, an old coverless history text book he picked up at Deseret Industries and read aloud:
“After many years of friendly relations with Mexico, A dictator Aporfirio Diaz ruled from l877 to 1911.”[1]
“Gosh forty years, that sounds like Castro in Cuba!”
Brent agreed and continued to read:
“He favored the wealthy group in Mexico and permitted foreign capital to be invested in the mines oil fields and ranches of his country. Much of that capital came from the U.S. The Mexican people resented this, feeling that the natural resources of their land should be used for their own benefit. Conditions for the poor peon were getting no better; in agricultural country 85 per cent of the people working the soil owned no land.
“The Diaz government was overthrown in a revolution in 1911. Other revolutions and more dictators followed and our relations with Mexico were strained for several years. Twice American troops moved in.
“At one time we held Vera Curz for more than six months. On another occasion President Woodrow Wislon sent General John J. Pershing after a Mexican bandit, Pancho Villa, who had been making forays across the boarder into New Mexico. In 1916 when the Mexican government appeared to be protecting Villa, sentiment rose in the U.S. in favor of armed intervention. But war was avoided, for one reason, the U.S. feared getting drawn into the war going on in Europe (World War I) and dared not risk a war over here too.
“A new constitution in 1917 prevented anyone but Mexicans from owning the land and natural resources of the country. Holdings of foreign companies or individuals were not disturbed at that time, but native owned large states were divided among the poor farmers. Mexico was entirely within her rights in doing this, but foreign investors were alarmed.
“However as the foreigners were reassured their rights would not be violated, better relations were created. For example relations between the U.S. and Mexico improved so that in l938 when Mexican government did force all foreigners, including U.S. businessmen to sell their oil lands in Mexico, the incident was passed over without much trouble.”
“Well there was plenty of trouble between the Texas and New Mexico about that time. My Grandma Jacobs was not a happy camper when her little boy married a ‘Mexican’, and then when her baby daughter, my other Aunt Lola married secretly, Grandma blamed my mother because his last name was also Spanish. I’m glad I wasn’t around to see that!
“But that’s a story for a different time; I remember some letters I got in the 70's from a Bustamante cousin I never met. She was the oldest living in their generation, and Uncle Eliseo suggested I write to her to see if she had information that we had not been able to glean from his journals or from the microfilmed church records of the area. They’re in a folder in the genealogy file drawer.
Here's a web site about Mexico during World War I: http://explora.presidencia.gob.mx.pages__kids/
"Meanwhile in 1939 the European crisis culminated in the Second world War, in which the Axis countries, (Germany, Italy and Japan) fought the allies (England, France, the Soviet Union, the United States and other countries). For most of the war, Mexico was governed by Manuel Avila Camacho (1940 - 1946. As a result of this conflict, manufactured products became scarce in Mexico, since the industrialized countries were at war and industrial production was geared to satisfying military demands. Mexicans' demand for consumer goods served to promote the industrialization of our country.
During the war, the United States of America needed more workers, since a large part of its labor force had gone to fight. Mexico provided the US economy with workers and raw materials, a fact that also favored our economic growth. By the time the war ended, Mexico had started to become an urban and industrial nation. an intense literacy campaign also took place during the war years. Since this time, free and compulsory primary education has continued to expand. In 1940 there were two million students; nowadays this number has grown to around fourteen million. The Mexican Social Security Institute was also created during the war; this institution has given a large part of Mexico's population access to better medical services. Thanks to improved health care conditions, our population has continued to grow. In 1940, there were twenty million Mexicans; our population now stands at over ninety million.
[1] History of NM
“Mom, we were talking about World War I and II in our history class. Were you alive during the wars?”
Grandma Lucy (Uncle) Frank Glenn Daddy (Charles Glenn Jacobs. Glenn)
C. Glenn & Lucy
“Thanks a lot Brent. I’m old, but not ancient. Even MY mother was not born ‘til after World War I. My dad was born in 1907, so he was younger than you when that war was fought. And, I remember my mother saying that when World War II started, he was really too old to enlist, he had two kids already, but he wanted to do his part for the war effort, and he enlisted as a Sea Bea or CB -- a navy construction worker.”
“So when were you born?”
“1949. World War II had been over for nearly five years. It’s funny though, I remember watching news shows and movies about the war when I was little and thinking, ‘why do they keep talking about this? It’s ancient history.’ Now I realize how time plays tricks on you and five or ten years for me now is nothing...except when I am away from my kids, then it a month is forever.”
“What was it like during the war time for your parents?”
“Railroads had become the main means of transportation. Cars were becoming more popular, but during the wars gas was rationed and rubber tires were really hard to get. Well, I guess during the Second World War, my parents had just been married a couple of years. They were living in Concho where the Candelaria brothers had married Mother’s two sisters and established ranches. Daddy had the Shell® trading post just at the entrance of town from St. Johns. Uncle Glenn was a baby when my dad joined the navy, and then Mother says he came home on leave one week and announced it was time for the next child, that would be your Uncle Duane.”
“I thought you said he had two kids already when he went.”
“The other one was my half sister, from an earlier marriage. Your granddad was actually married three times. Aunt Marie and I got really excited when we learned that our half sister had a daughter, because that would be our half niece, so together we thought we could make a whole aunt.”
“That sounds like some of our half step siblings once removed by a couple of divorces in the family.” Brent joked.
“Well, I’ve heard if you laid all the divorced people out end to end,” Mom started out seriously, “they’d be a lot more comfortable.”
“Well, if the jokes don’t improve, I’ve got American history to study for an exam.”
“What are you studying now, Brent?” Mom asked showing a distracted interest in his schoolwork.
“Well, duhh, Mom," Lynae interrupted, “Maybe World War I and II?”
“Again, about all I know about World Wars is what I learned from John Wayne movies. How did it effect New Mexico, Brent? Remember some of the displays at the museum just before we got back to Arizona in Deming, or was it Lords?”
“Where it was raining so hard you said you just couldn’t drive through it so we would have to visit just one more museum?” Brent laughed.
“Well that one turned out to be pretty good with the doll displays and dresses from the past.” Lynae defended.
“Remember the exhibits you liked, Brent, about the army clothes, medals, and weapons from the world wars.”
“And the street with the old cars and little shops like a real miniature town.”
“I remember now, there was like a beauty shop and dentist, and a bunch of others.”
“Remember how loud the rain was on that tin roof? I’m glad we weren’t trying to drive through it!” Mom reminded them.
“There was a lot of stuff about the World Wars at the railroad museum in Belen too,” Lynae remembered.
“Those little displays had authentic items typical of that era.”
Brent got more enthusiastic about the history assignment. “Just before World War I, there was a lot of trouble in Mexico itself, which is called the Mexican revolution.” After he related this bit of information, he turned to his reference book, an old coverless history text book he picked up at Deseret Industries and read aloud:
“After many years of friendly relations with Mexico, A dictator Aporfirio Diaz ruled from l877 to 1911.”[1]
“Gosh forty years, that sounds like Castro in Cuba!”
Brent agreed and continued to read:
“He favored the wealthy group in Mexico and permitted foreign capital to be invested in the mines oil fields and ranches of his country. Much of that capital came from the U.S. The Mexican people resented this, feeling that the natural resources of their land should be used for their own benefit. Conditions for the poor peon were getting no better; in agricultural country 85 per cent of the people working the soil owned no land.
“The Diaz government was overthrown in a revolution in 1911. Other revolutions and more dictators followed and our relations with Mexico were strained for several years. Twice American troops moved in.
“At one time we held Vera Curz for more than six months. On another occasion President Woodrow Wislon sent General John J. Pershing after a Mexican bandit, Pancho Villa, who had been making forays across the boarder into New Mexico. In 1916 when the Mexican government appeared to be protecting Villa, sentiment rose in the U.S. in favor of armed intervention. But war was avoided, for one reason, the U.S. feared getting drawn into the war going on in Europe (World War I) and dared not risk a war over here too.
“A new constitution in 1917 prevented anyone but Mexicans from owning the land and natural resources of the country. Holdings of foreign companies or individuals were not disturbed at that time, but native owned large states were divided among the poor farmers. Mexico was entirely within her rights in doing this, but foreign investors were alarmed.
“However as the foreigners were reassured their rights would not be violated, better relations were created. For example relations between the U.S. and Mexico improved so that in l938 when Mexican government did force all foreigners, including U.S. businessmen to sell their oil lands in Mexico, the incident was passed over without much trouble.”
“Well there was plenty of trouble between the Texas and New Mexico about that time. My Grandma Jacobs was not a happy camper when her little boy married a ‘Mexican’, and then when her baby daughter, my other Aunt Lola married secretly, Grandma blamed my mother because his last name was also Spanish. I’m glad I wasn’t around to see that!
“But that’s a story for a different time; I remember some letters I got in the 70's from a Bustamante cousin I never met. She was the oldest living in their generation, and Uncle Eliseo suggested I write to her to see if she had information that we had not been able to glean from his journals or from the microfilmed church records of the area. They’re in a folder in the genealogy file drawer.
Here's a web site about Mexico during World War I: http://explora.presidencia.gob.mx.pages__kids/
"Meanwhile in 1939 the European crisis culminated in the Second world War, in which the Axis countries, (Germany, Italy and Japan) fought the allies (England, France, the Soviet Union, the United States and other countries). For most of the war, Mexico was governed by Manuel Avila Camacho (1940 - 1946. As a result of this conflict, manufactured products became scarce in Mexico, since the industrialized countries were at war and industrial production was geared to satisfying military demands. Mexicans' demand for consumer goods served to promote the industrialization of our country.
During the war, the United States of America needed more workers, since a large part of its labor force had gone to fight. Mexico provided the US economy with workers and raw materials, a fact that also favored our economic growth. By the time the war ended, Mexico had started to become an urban and industrial nation. an intense literacy campaign also took place during the war years. Since this time, free and compulsory primary education has continued to expand. In 1940 there were two million students; nowadays this number has grown to around fourteen million. The Mexican Social Security Institute was also created during the war; this institution has given a large part of Mexico's population access to better medical services. Thanks to improved health care conditions, our population has continued to grow. In 1940, there were twenty million Mexicans; our population now stands at over ninety million.
[1] History of NM
Auntie Lola (Delores Baca Candelaria)
Auntie Lola
(Delores Baca Candelaria Salazar)
Eliseo
1940
Marian
Lola
Lucy
The rest of the week went all too quickly, a few days with the grandkids and that quick detour to visit Uncle Glenn’s family in Round Valley then a little back track through Gallup New Mexico to visit Auntie Lola.
Auntie Lola greeted them warmly, as is her custom, and offered them a tour of the Villa de Guadalupe retirement home where she had recently taken residence. Pointing to the pictures on her dresser, Lynae asked who they were. “Is that you’re wedding picture?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes, that’s me and my Roger. We were married when I was eighteen. I was born in the home built by my grandfather, José María Baca. The building still stands and is used today. We went into partnership for the store, with my cousin Matias Baca, and a few years later we bought out his shares and moved the store to a building on the north side of California Street”
“That’s the main street through Quemado, Highway 60". Mom explained. “By this time we were parents of four children,” Auntie Lola indicated a family picture. “Roger, Edwina, Vidal, who your Grandma Lucy dubbed Billy, and Clara Jo.
“-- Helena's Mom.” Lynae popped up excitedly.
“Do you know my granddaughter Helena?” Auntie Lola questioned.
“She’s our favorite relative -- besides you, I mean,” Brent added diplomatically. We stayed at her house, and she gave us tickets to the Wild Animal Park and Zoo in San Diego where she works -- Remember Mom, when I saw her walking by with a lady on a tour of the park and I recognized her voice?”
“That was quite a coincidence, “Mom agreed. “She didn’t even expect to be at the Zoo that day so she had left tickets for us at the gate. She was so busy that trip we didn’t even get to get together, but the summer before we had a great visit, and she and her husband, Will, were so gracious.”
“Yes, Helena is a wonderful woman.” Auntie Lola agreed readily. “Did you see her on Television a few weeks ago? She was interviewed on one of the network news shows about her work with the primates at the Zoo.”
“She’s really the only cousin, well first cousin once removed, that I kept in contact with. When we were kids Helena's parents brought the family to visit every couple of summers. Helena and I kept in contact as pen pals for several years.” Mom explained, then added, "Auntie Lola’s oldest son, Roger, here in this picture is the oldest of the whole generation of cousins, and I’m the youngest. He actually thought he was my uncle for a while. He was just six years younger than my mother. He's the one born while Grandma Lucy was in the Loretto infirmary so sick and when they said she had a nephew, she cried and said, 'I don't want another disease.' When Roger was in the hospital after a heart attack I wrote him a card:
From the youngest to the oldest,
I’m real sorry that you’re sick.
You lead our generation,
so get well really quick!”
Auntie Lola continued the tour of the building. Lynae admired the beautiful displays of Navajo designs in rugs and pottery and sand paintings throughout the building, side by side with the pictures and statues of Jesus, Mary and many saints.
“We bought a lot of land and buildings -- one set of adobe buildings we named Plaza Cottage Camp,” Auntie Lola reminisced.[1] “It was a collection of rental rooms, small stores and a pool hall.”
“Auntie met her husband Roger in Springerville. She was a boarder at St. Vincent's Academy in Albuquerque.”
“You went to boarding school even when your parents were alive?” Lynae questioned.
“That was the only way to get an education; there were no schools in this part of the country. Marian and Lucy would have gone there too — even if our parents had lived.”
“I thought they just were sent because they were orphans.”
“No, in our day many children had to be shipped off.”
“Is that why you say you are shipping us off to boarding school when we have to go back to Dad’s for the school year?” Lynae asked turning to Mom.
“Yeah, it’s easier than admitting you are leaving for joint custody.” Mom admitted, brushing at a little tear -- a mixture of sadness for generations of children separated from their birth parents.
“I had to send my kids away." Auntie Lola stated. "Marian’s daughters, Eugenia and Lydia went to St. Vincent’s in Albuquerque, too, but they lived at home because she and Chris lived close enough to commute,” she added, then continued with the history the children had requested. “Throughout 1920, Roger and I met whenever possible, he was working at Becker's Store in Sprigerville. We married in September of 1921 just a few months later, March 1922, my father died.”
“We rented the house and building to a young couple, who opened a bakery and ran it until they were financially able to continue to California, their original goal. I continued the bakery for some time with help from my older children managed the cabins and did most of the work that had to be done. And I also assisted Dr. Bell in the delivery of several babies, and was county registrar for more than twenty-five years.”
“Gina used to help deliver babies!” Lynae compared generations again. “But where was Roger?”
“Uncle Roger,” Mom corrected from long habit, having been corrected as a child.
“Roger Candelaria served as County Commissioner for two years, and several years as Justice of the Peace. When my father died in 1922, I inherited the part of his holdings known as The Mail Ranch, and we purchased other land to raise cattle. We kept herds of sheep until late 1947; we raised feed on the cultivated part of the vega which was watered by Rito Creek. Before 1940 the only trees in Quemado were Salt Cedars. Roger brought a truckload of Chinese Elms and sold them to folk to beautify their homes, and most people considered them a blessing.”
“I guess that’s what happened in Arizona and Nevada!” Brent acknowledged. “I sure don’t think of elm trees as a blessing when I have to hoe them out of the garden and chop the suckers that grow from the roots.”
The very young looking nove-generian spoke proudly of her family. “Both my sons, and five grandsons have served in the armed services, and my great grandson now serves overseas.”
“Auntie Lola, you’ve lived through most of this century — since 1907,” Lynae continued the interview, “what changes have you seen?”
“My father had the first car in Catron County, we had one of the first telephones, electricity, just about everything in this century. Vaccines and immunizations would have saved my parents.” Lola wiped an unexpected tear from her cheek at the very thought, and continued,” -- you take for granted now. The world has changed rapidly with new inventions and new appliances. I’ve lived through two world wars, and many other political conflicts, but I still try to have an optimistic outlook.”
“What do you enjoy the most?” Lynae asked.
“That’s an easy one, I always thoroughly enjoy get-togethers with my precious sisters and brother, my children and grandchildren, and friends.”
“Well, in a world of constant change, that much hasn’t changed in four hundred years. The most important thing, I guess, will always be family.”
[1] Taken from the QuemadoSenior Citizen Calendar section on the Candalaria Family, and family stories.
(Delores Baca Candelaria Salazar)
Eliseo
1940
Marian
Lola
Lucy
The rest of the week went all too quickly, a few days with the grandkids and that quick detour to visit Uncle Glenn’s family in Round Valley then a little back track through Gallup New Mexico to visit Auntie Lola.
Auntie Lola greeted them warmly, as is her custom, and offered them a tour of the Villa de Guadalupe retirement home where she had recently taken residence. Pointing to the pictures on her dresser, Lynae asked who they were. “Is that you’re wedding picture?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes, that’s me and my Roger. We were married when I was eighteen. I was born in the home built by my grandfather, José María Baca. The building still stands and is used today. We went into partnership for the store, with my cousin Matias Baca, and a few years later we bought out his shares and moved the store to a building on the north side of California Street”
“That’s the main street through Quemado, Highway 60". Mom explained. “By this time we were parents of four children,” Auntie Lola indicated a family picture. “Roger, Edwina, Vidal, who your Grandma Lucy dubbed Billy, and Clara Jo.
“-- Helena's Mom.” Lynae popped up excitedly.
“Do you know my granddaughter Helena?” Auntie Lola questioned.
“She’s our favorite relative -- besides you, I mean,” Brent added diplomatically. We stayed at her house, and she gave us tickets to the Wild Animal Park and Zoo in San Diego where she works -- Remember Mom, when I saw her walking by with a lady on a tour of the park and I recognized her voice?”
“That was quite a coincidence, “Mom agreed. “She didn’t even expect to be at the Zoo that day so she had left tickets for us at the gate. She was so busy that trip we didn’t even get to get together, but the summer before we had a great visit, and she and her husband, Will, were so gracious.”
“Yes, Helena is a wonderful woman.” Auntie Lola agreed readily. “Did you see her on Television a few weeks ago? She was interviewed on one of the network news shows about her work with the primates at the Zoo.”
“She’s really the only cousin, well first cousin once removed, that I kept in contact with. When we were kids Helena's parents brought the family to visit every couple of summers. Helena and I kept in contact as pen pals for several years.” Mom explained, then added, "Auntie Lola’s oldest son, Roger, here in this picture is the oldest of the whole generation of cousins, and I’m the youngest. He actually thought he was my uncle for a while. He was just six years younger than my mother. He's the one born while Grandma Lucy was in the Loretto infirmary so sick and when they said she had a nephew, she cried and said, 'I don't want another disease.' When Roger was in the hospital after a heart attack I wrote him a card:
From the youngest to the oldest,
I’m real sorry that you’re sick.
You lead our generation,
so get well really quick!”
Auntie Lola continued the tour of the building. Lynae admired the beautiful displays of Navajo designs in rugs and pottery and sand paintings throughout the building, side by side with the pictures and statues of Jesus, Mary and many saints.
“We bought a lot of land and buildings -- one set of adobe buildings we named Plaza Cottage Camp,” Auntie Lola reminisced.[1] “It was a collection of rental rooms, small stores and a pool hall.”
“Auntie met her husband Roger in Springerville. She was a boarder at St. Vincent's Academy in Albuquerque.”
“You went to boarding school even when your parents were alive?” Lynae questioned.
“That was the only way to get an education; there were no schools in this part of the country. Marian and Lucy would have gone there too — even if our parents had lived.”
“I thought they just were sent because they were orphans.”
“No, in our day many children had to be shipped off.”
“Is that why you say you are shipping us off to boarding school when we have to go back to Dad’s for the school year?” Lynae asked turning to Mom.
“Yeah, it’s easier than admitting you are leaving for joint custody.” Mom admitted, brushing at a little tear -- a mixture of sadness for generations of children separated from their birth parents.
“I had to send my kids away." Auntie Lola stated. "Marian’s daughters, Eugenia and Lydia went to St. Vincent’s in Albuquerque, too, but they lived at home because she and Chris lived close enough to commute,” she added, then continued with the history the children had requested. “Throughout 1920, Roger and I met whenever possible, he was working at Becker's Store in Sprigerville. We married in September of 1921 just a few months later, March 1922, my father died.”
“We rented the house and building to a young couple, who opened a bakery and ran it until they were financially able to continue to California, their original goal. I continued the bakery for some time with help from my older children managed the cabins and did most of the work that had to be done. And I also assisted Dr. Bell in the delivery of several babies, and was county registrar for more than twenty-five years.”
“Gina used to help deliver babies!” Lynae compared generations again. “But where was Roger?”
“Uncle Roger,” Mom corrected from long habit, having been corrected as a child.
“Roger Candelaria served as County Commissioner for two years, and several years as Justice of the Peace. When my father died in 1922, I inherited the part of his holdings known as The Mail Ranch, and we purchased other land to raise cattle. We kept herds of sheep until late 1947; we raised feed on the cultivated part of the vega which was watered by Rito Creek. Before 1940 the only trees in Quemado were Salt Cedars. Roger brought a truckload of Chinese Elms and sold them to folk to beautify their homes, and most people considered them a blessing.”
“I guess that’s what happened in Arizona and Nevada!” Brent acknowledged. “I sure don’t think of elm trees as a blessing when I have to hoe them out of the garden and chop the suckers that grow from the roots.”
The very young looking nove-generian spoke proudly of her family. “Both my sons, and five grandsons have served in the armed services, and my great grandson now serves overseas.”
“Auntie Lola, you’ve lived through most of this century — since 1907,” Lynae continued the interview, “what changes have you seen?”
“My father had the first car in Catron County, we had one of the first telephones, electricity, just about everything in this century. Vaccines and immunizations would have saved my parents.” Lola wiped an unexpected tear from her cheek at the very thought, and continued,” -- you take for granted now. The world has changed rapidly with new inventions and new appliances. I’ve lived through two world wars, and many other political conflicts, but I still try to have an optimistic outlook.”
“What do you enjoy the most?” Lynae asked.
“That’s an easy one, I always thoroughly enjoy get-togethers with my precious sisters and brother, my children and grandchildren, and friends.”
“Well, in a world of constant change, that much hasn’t changed in four hundred years. The most important thing, I guess, will always be family.”
[1] Taken from the QuemadoSenior Citizen Calendar section on the Candalaria Family, and family stories.
Mrs. Filimon Baca's letters
Dear Lynda,
I don't know who you are but I know Lucy and Eliseo and the rest of your Aunts. But thanks for writing me. I am sorry I didn't answer sooner but I was out of town for a few days and didn't get the letter until now.
“Bless her heart, she felt so obligated to answer my letters and I was so unrelenting, she probably thought I was really demanding.”
About the information you want me to give you there is not too much I can give you but I will give as much as I can. I am going to give you the names of sons and daughters of José Antonio Bustamante. (I know) Their births but I don't know when they died. So you are welcome anytime you want to come and visit me and then I will give more about them because they are too many too write. Here they are:
My grandfather and my Grand mother (your great grandparents)
José Antonio Bustamante and Marillita Vallejos Bustamante.
The rest of the names are your aunts and uncles of your mother.
Danile Bustamante
Felicitas and María Angelita
José Catarino
George
Policarpio
Hipolito
María Ana
Francisco Antonio
and the triplets:
María Guadalupe
María Clara (your grandmother) and
María De los Reyes
I don't know when they died or were married either but when you come maybe I can give you more but it it’s hard to write as I am not good to write so I hope I gave you a little about it. I hope to see you, when you come to Albuquerque
Thanks for writing me.
“Poor lady, she keeps apologizing for not knowing.”
“Sounds like Grandma Lucy. She apologizes if it rains!”
“I guess I tried to be a bit less demanding in my next letter.”
Dec l8
Received your letter but I have been so busy that haven't got time to answer you. But thanks very much for your nice letter but I was hoping you would have come to meet you. Hope you can come and see us sometimes.
Well I can't give you much more information about what you ask me, the only thing is that all the brothers and sisters of your gramma are all gone. My mother was the last one to die. She passed away Nov 1953. That's the only one I can tell you more or less when she was married, of course, in those times I guess they didn't have any records et. My mother Felicitas married José S.Chávez Jan 20, 1881. I don't know the births and deaths of her parents maybe Tia Lola or Eliseo can tell you about them.
I am giving you the names of my aunts and uncles your Grama’s brothers and sisters, and who they married I don't know the dates.
Brothers Daniel Bustamante married Savina Torres and
Hipolito Bustamante married SavAna after Daniel died
George m. Casimira Saiz
María Bustamante married Severo Rivera
I don't know their marriage date either.
I can give you all the names of their children your mother's first cousins but I need a whole page to write the names, but if you want them I will give them to you. Hope you can write me soon again and hope you understand my writing. I am not too good in writing English.
Regards to your husband.
Jan 6, 1975
Dear cousins:
Sorry I haven't answered your last letter but with the holidays I was so busy that didn't have time.
I am going to give you the names of all my first cousins but that's about all the information I can give and I am sure they don't know anything more as all of them are younger than I am.
And about the four unnamed children of my grandfather, there is no record of them. I guess they were infants of course, as I said in my last letter in those times there were no record of babies that were born and died infants. Now they register them as soon as they are born. You say you can read Spanish I am glad because my husband is not very good in speaking English. So when you come you can talk with him. I am hoping you can visit. Well here I go with the names.
My mother, Felicitas had 9 children:
Grigoio Chávez died single
Rosalia Chávez died single
Pedro P. Chávez married and widower
Maríana C. Lopes married (dead)
Isidorita #1s, and Isidorita #2 died in infancy
Genoveva Chávez, dead
José Antonio Chávez-dead.
Emilianita Chávez Baca (writer of letter)
married Filimon Baca
Uncle Daniel Bustamantae had two sons both dead:
José Antonio and Samuel Bustamante
Uncle George Bustamante had 9 children
Daniel Bustamante dead
Julian and Marcos both died small
Elvira Bustamante Romero
Bernarda Bustamante(single)
José Antonio alive and Prudencia dead (twins)
Herman Bustamante Widower
Alfredo Bustamante married
Marillita Bustamante Carillo married
Aunt Maríana Bustamante Rivera had 3 children
Miguel B. Rivera son, dead
Marillita Rivera, died young
Daniel Rivera died young
Uncle Policarpio
didn't have a family and
Uncle Hipolito either.
So I hope you have all the information you want because this is all I can give you. Sorry I don't have more I am sure none of my cousins have any more because as I said I’m one of the oldest except my brother is older than I am. But he doesn't know any more than I do. Of course, you know the names of your uncles and aunts on your mother's side.
Is there another letter? She keeps saying she doesn’t know any more and then writes more!” Brent asked unfolding another letter carefully.
“That’s the way to get information; people believe they don’t know much but when you keep asking questions they often come back with memories or things they didn’t think were important enough to tell you at first.”
Jan 29, 1975
Sorry I haven't answered your last letter but I was waiting for my cousin to get back from California. To ask her if she knew when my uncle Jorge was married to her father. She came back Saturday so I found out when they were married so here I go. I hope I can give you the right information:
Uncle Jorge Bustamante was married to Casimira Saiz on Jan 7 1898, in our Lady of Belen Church. He died Feb 14, 1931 and was buried in the same place he was married.
Uncle Daniel Bustamante was married to Savina Torres Oct 7, 1895. He was killed by (Bronco Bill) Maybe you have heard about Bronco Bill; he was a thief I can go to all the details its a long story. Eliseo will tell you about it.
“I think he mentions it in one of his letters. I’ll have to look.”
He died May 25, 1898, and Antonio Bustamante the one you wrote about is his son. Samuel Bustamante another son just died last year in August 1974.
You say you hear stories about Uncle Paul, he in fact I think that your Tia Marian is the one that started calling him Uncle Paul because we never did. If you ask Eliseo or Lola they will tell you. About my husband being a Baca he is not the son of Filimon and Maggie, it's just a coincidence. He is from other Bacas from here. So I think I have given you about all you have asked me in your last letter. I hope you understand my writing I am not too good in spelling but that's the best I can do. So please excuse me (OK). I wish you could come over sometime and maybe I can tell you in person more, but for now I think this is all I have.
Regards to your husband and children from your cousin (Melly).
“That was her last letter. We never went to visit them in Albuquerque. I never met her,” Mom said sadly folding the letter into the file. “I’ve always regretted that. I would have loved to just sit and visit with her. Somehow, knowing someone who knew my grandparents and great grandparents would have brought them a little closer to my heart.”
Lynae and Brent exchanged knowing glances of agreement as they realized how their hearts had been turned to the ancestors through their adventures.
“We’ve had some great memories, especially with you two. I took the older kids on a lot of adventures I was home with them; we biked and hiked and camped along the Little Colorado River. I only hope that someday they will reach in deep into their memory banks and remember the good times we had.”
“It’s OK, Mom. It’s all good.” Brent mimicked himself with his own cliché expression, then pointed out that there were just two miles left to the turn off to the little college town of Safford, Arizona.
I don't know who you are but I know Lucy and Eliseo and the rest of your Aunts. But thanks for writing me. I am sorry I didn't answer sooner but I was out of town for a few days and didn't get the letter until now.
“Bless her heart, she felt so obligated to answer my letters and I was so unrelenting, she probably thought I was really demanding.”
About the information you want me to give you there is not too much I can give you but I will give as much as I can. I am going to give you the names of sons and daughters of José Antonio Bustamante. (I know) Their births but I don't know when they died. So you are welcome anytime you want to come and visit me and then I will give more about them because they are too many too write. Here they are:
My grandfather and my Grand mother (your great grandparents)
José Antonio Bustamante and Marillita Vallejos Bustamante.
The rest of the names are your aunts and uncles of your mother.
Danile Bustamante
Felicitas and María Angelita
José Catarino
George
Policarpio
Hipolito
María Ana
Francisco Antonio
and the triplets:
María Guadalupe
María Clara (your grandmother) and
María De los Reyes
I don't know when they died or were married either but when you come maybe I can give you more but it it’s hard to write as I am not good to write so I hope I gave you a little about it. I hope to see you, when you come to Albuquerque
Thanks for writing me.
“Poor lady, she keeps apologizing for not knowing.”
“Sounds like Grandma Lucy. She apologizes if it rains!”
“I guess I tried to be a bit less demanding in my next letter.”
Dec l8
Received your letter but I have been so busy that haven't got time to answer you. But thanks very much for your nice letter but I was hoping you would have come to meet you. Hope you can come and see us sometimes.
Well I can't give you much more information about what you ask me, the only thing is that all the brothers and sisters of your gramma are all gone. My mother was the last one to die. She passed away Nov 1953. That's the only one I can tell you more or less when she was married, of course, in those times I guess they didn't have any records et. My mother Felicitas married José S.Chávez Jan 20, 1881. I don't know the births and deaths of her parents maybe Tia Lola or Eliseo can tell you about them.
I am giving you the names of my aunts and uncles your Grama’s brothers and sisters, and who they married I don't know the dates.
Brothers Daniel Bustamante married Savina Torres and
Hipolito Bustamante married SavAna after Daniel died
George m. Casimira Saiz
María Bustamante married Severo Rivera
I don't know their marriage date either.
I can give you all the names of their children your mother's first cousins but I need a whole page to write the names, but if you want them I will give them to you. Hope you can write me soon again and hope you understand my writing. I am not too good in writing English.
Regards to your husband.
Jan 6, 1975
Dear cousins:
Sorry I haven't answered your last letter but with the holidays I was so busy that didn't have time.
I am going to give you the names of all my first cousins but that's about all the information I can give and I am sure they don't know anything more as all of them are younger than I am.
And about the four unnamed children of my grandfather, there is no record of them. I guess they were infants of course, as I said in my last letter in those times there were no record of babies that were born and died infants. Now they register them as soon as they are born. You say you can read Spanish I am glad because my husband is not very good in speaking English. So when you come you can talk with him. I am hoping you can visit. Well here I go with the names.
My mother, Felicitas had 9 children:
Grigoio Chávez died single
Rosalia Chávez died single
Pedro P. Chávez married and widower
Maríana C. Lopes married (dead)
Isidorita #1s, and Isidorita #2 died in infancy
Genoveva Chávez, dead
José Antonio Chávez-dead.
Emilianita Chávez Baca (writer of letter)
married Filimon Baca
Uncle Daniel Bustamantae had two sons both dead:
José Antonio and Samuel Bustamante
Uncle George Bustamante had 9 children
Daniel Bustamante dead
Julian and Marcos both died small
Elvira Bustamante Romero
Bernarda Bustamante(single)
José Antonio alive and Prudencia dead (twins)
Herman Bustamante Widower
Alfredo Bustamante married
Marillita Bustamante Carillo married
Aunt Maríana Bustamante Rivera had 3 children
Miguel B. Rivera son, dead
Marillita Rivera, died young
Daniel Rivera died young
Uncle Policarpio
didn't have a family and
Uncle Hipolito either.
So I hope you have all the information you want because this is all I can give you. Sorry I don't have more I am sure none of my cousins have any more because as I said I’m one of the oldest except my brother is older than I am. But he doesn't know any more than I do. Of course, you know the names of your uncles and aunts on your mother's side.
Is there another letter? She keeps saying she doesn’t know any more and then writes more!” Brent asked unfolding another letter carefully.
“That’s the way to get information; people believe they don’t know much but when you keep asking questions they often come back with memories or things they didn’t think were important enough to tell you at first.”
Jan 29, 1975
Sorry I haven't answered your last letter but I was waiting for my cousin to get back from California. To ask her if she knew when my uncle Jorge was married to her father. She came back Saturday so I found out when they were married so here I go. I hope I can give you the right information:
Uncle Jorge Bustamante was married to Casimira Saiz on Jan 7 1898, in our Lady of Belen Church. He died Feb 14, 1931 and was buried in the same place he was married.
Uncle Daniel Bustamante was married to Savina Torres Oct 7, 1895. He was killed by (Bronco Bill) Maybe you have heard about Bronco Bill; he was a thief I can go to all the details its a long story. Eliseo will tell you about it.
“I think he mentions it in one of his letters. I’ll have to look.”
He died May 25, 1898, and Antonio Bustamante the one you wrote about is his son. Samuel Bustamante another son just died last year in August 1974.
You say you hear stories about Uncle Paul, he in fact I think that your Tia Marian is the one that started calling him Uncle Paul because we never did. If you ask Eliseo or Lola they will tell you. About my husband being a Baca he is not the son of Filimon and Maggie, it's just a coincidence. He is from other Bacas from here. So I think I have given you about all you have asked me in your last letter. I hope you understand my writing I am not too good in spelling but that's the best I can do. So please excuse me (OK). I wish you could come over sometime and maybe I can tell you in person more, but for now I think this is all I have.
Regards to your husband and children from your cousin (Melly).
“That was her last letter. We never went to visit them in Albuquerque. I never met her,” Mom said sadly folding the letter into the file. “I’ve always regretted that. I would have loved to just sit and visit with her. Somehow, knowing someone who knew my grandparents and great grandparents would have brought them a little closer to my heart.”
Lynae and Brent exchanged knowing glances of agreement as they realized how their hearts had been turned to the ancestors through their adventures.
“We’ve had some great memories, especially with you two. I took the older kids on a lot of adventures I was home with them; we biked and hiked and camped along the Little Colorado River. I only hope that someday they will reach in deep into their memory banks and remember the good times we had.”
“It’s OK, Mom. It’s all good.” Brent mimicked himself with his own cliché expression, then pointed out that there were just two miles left to the turn off to the little college town of Safford, Arizona.
Lynae burst through the apartment door with Brent close on her heels. "Guess what!”, they both shouted.. "Mom’s taking us to the Shakespeare festival in Cedar City. We get to go for the whole week-end. Our English class has been reading Shakespeare’s play, Romeo and Juliet, and we’re going to get to see it live on stage. Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"
"I'm right behind you, fair Juliet. Let's watch the video again so we know the story line."
"This new version is too weird, but I kind of like it.”
“It makes Verona and the families seem all modern and today. It kind of brings it into the present without changing the story.”
Dragging suitcases and a backpack from the car in Cedar City, they watched as costumed actors handed out event flyers. Lynae began to imagine how Brent would look in tight pants and a frilly jacket, and herself as the beautiful young Juliet. Exploring behind the scenes on a tour of the sets, Brent and Lynae stepped out onto the stage as if to perform the play themselves. As the stage curtains opened, where the Montigues and Capulets should have been standing were the Armijos, the Bacas and other people of Santa Fé during the summer of 1733.
"Psst -- Brent! What have you done? We're not in Verona; we're back in Santa Fé. Look at the Sangre Cristo Mountains. There's no mistaking those mountains for anywhere else.”
The narrator began to introduce the play:[1]
In the summer of 1733 young Manuel Armijo and Francisca Baca of Santa Fé fell madly in love with each other. But her father, Captain Antonio Baca, disapproved most vehemently. He even threatened to run Manuel through with his sword if the youngsters continued seeing each other. Undaunted the youth sought legal aid from the church authorities and as a consequence the entire high society connected with church and state became seriously involved.
Brent stared. He decided he would never be able to take this time travel business for granted. "The plaza looks almost the same as it did last time. There's the Palace of the Governors, only it looks like Governor Domingo Bustamante is in charge of the Kingdom of New Mexico like the Prince of Verona, and there is his nephew, Vicar José Bustamante, who also lives at the Palace.”
As Brent and Lynae walked out onto the stage, the audience vanished and the other three sides of the Plaza materialized. These sides made up the more important citizens' residences, among them that Captain Antonio Baca and his wife María Aragon. The houses were built next to each other with portales or large windows across the front.
Up the main street to the east the Parroquía of San Francisco rose high and adobe-clean against the mountain backdrop as the town's most imposing structure.[2]
"Brent, they've finished the Parroquía -- it is really beautiful! And look at little Francisca Baca. She has also grown so beautiful. Too bad all these beautiful girls are related, huh, Brent."
Brent stood by speechlessly blushing.
"Lynae, my friend. You see they have finished the Parroquía nearly sixteen years ago, near the time I was born. I have always imagined that it was built just for me as a celebration of my birth, and here I shall one day marry Manuel Amigo. Here with pomp and ceremony, flowers and bells chiming we will have the most beautiful Church wedding that ever was. ¡O! Here comes Manuel! You won't tell anyone that we are meeting here, Lynae, will you? We have to meet secretly because my parents do not approve of our love."
Brent and Lynae nodded their heads knowingly. After all, they wouldn't even be allowed to date at that age, much less be making plans to marry. "My parents have chosen another man for me to marry when it is time, but I am not in love with the other man. I have always loved Manuel and we are going to be married one day, here in the Parroquía.”
"I know about arranged marriages, but why won't your parents arrange the marriage to Manuel, if you love him and they want you to get married?" Brent asked Francisca.
“Uncle Duane says he is going to arrange my marriage to someone he picks especially for me.” Lynae bragged, at the same time hoping Uncle Duane had been joking.
Francisca attempted to explain. "My family, the Baca's, have been well to do stockmen for generations. Our family came from Bernalillo but my father, Captain Antonio Baca, us to the Villa de Santa Fé some years ago when he become a prominent military leader and civic official. Our family is very close to the governor's. Besides, my father always boasts about being a direct descendant the first conquistadores who had settled the kingdom of New Mexico in 1598, and built the Villa de Santa Fé in 1610. His people had also helped reconquer the kingdom under Governor Vargas in 1693 after the terrible Pueblo Indian Revolt of 1680."
"Yes, that’s true", Brent and Lynae nodded, wide eyed. "We know about that part of our history. We were there."
Francisca ignored this slip of tongue and continued her story. My mother belonged to the wealthy and influential Ortíz family of the Villa."
"So, it’s like you are in a higher social class. I didn't know we were so important." Lynae said smugly, holding up her nose in the air in mock pridefulness.
"But with Manuel 's folks it is differe”nt." Francisca continued.
"His father, Vicente Armijo, holds neither military nor civic posts, and his house stands beyond the western outskirts of town in the barrrio of Alto del Rión, (a street and section along Santa Fé's mountain stream). Besides, the Armijo family only came to New Mexico about forty years ago, in 1695, well after Santa Fé was taken back from the Indians."
"And how would that make them any less important," Brent demanded defensively.
Francesca was not to be side-tracked. "What is still worse in my parents’ eyes, Manuel 's mother, María Apodaca, was half Indian and had no known father. She had been born in some pueblo after her mother was captured by the Indians in the Revolt of 1680."
"And your parents blame her for that? Let me tell you, that was no fun time for any of us! María was one of the lucky ones to even live through the war and captivity at all." Lynae blurted out.
Brent looked more puzzled than before. "But what about Manuel‘s Uncle, Antonio? He is the only surgeon in the Kingdom, and the Ortíz people generally can read and write better than some of the Bacas and other influential families. Doesn't that give them any status? Your parents can't just judge worthiness by where somebody lives and how long they've been in the state." But even as he spoke, they both realized that New Mexico was not yet a state and they could indeed, judge by any standards they chose, as with any age.
"It's kind of funny.” Brent said more in an aside to Lynae. “The Mexicans who are of 'pure Spanish heritage’, hold themselves above those with Indian mixed blood, and among the mixed heritage, they divide themselves according to who came with the early settlers and who didn't. But when more recent Indian blood gets mixed up in the genealogy it creates an even different class of people. My word, I guess there is something to prejudice people against one each other in every generation. The Montigues had their hang ups against the Capulets, and here its the Baca and Ortíz family versus the less wealthy Armijos from the wrong side of the river...”
"What’s worse," Francisca continued weeping, ignoring the side conversation, "is that my father has threatened to kill Manuel if he is caught seeing me again. You see, that is why we meet secretly here at the Parroquía.”
"He wouldn't really kill someone for dating his daughter, would he? He'd never get away with it! What could he plead not guilty by insanity?"
“I don’t know,” Brent whispered. “I understand Dad made some pretty big threats against some of the guys that dated our older sisters.”
"Everybody knows," Francisca corrected, "including Manuel Armijo, that my father could carry out his threat and possibly get away with it."
Lynae wondered privately if her dad would threaten so rashly if she began to date and talk about marriage when she barely turned fifteen.
Manuel appeared from the shadows suddenly. "Francisca, my love, I have nothing more to lose. My life is nothing without you at my side. I have been talking to the friar, the pastor at the Parroquía. Padre is afraid to go against your father because of his political importance and refuses to perform the wedding.
Beautiful Francisca began to cry again.
“No Francisca, don't cry any more.” Manuel said stroking the girl’s long brown hair. I have a plan. In spite of your father and the friar, we will be married soon! Even though he would not perform the ceremony padre gave me a good idea. He may be afraid of your father, but he is the only clergyman in the area. You know how the Franciscans resent the presence of Vicar Bustamante at the Palace. He is the official representative of the Bishop of Durángo in New Spain hundreds of miles away. So, anyway, Padre was happy to inform me of a rarely invoked, but very strict, Spanish law."
"How can an old law help us now. My father knows it is against the law to kill you, but I think he still will, regardless of the law,” Francisca, still not comforted, could not stop the tears that came.
"No, no, listen. According to this law, whenever parents refuse their consent to a marriage, the groom can make a formal complaint before two witnesses to the highest church authority. Then this high personage is obliged to sequester the bride in a neutral home for a stated period, to give her ample time to make up her own mind.”
“That would just give the parents and family time to talk her out of it.” Lynae said remembering all the times Mom had wished she could have talked the older siblings out of rushing into their marriages.
“No,” Manuel continued, “any interference by the parents or others would call for instant excommunication from the church. Even Vicar Bustamante can’t go against that law; your father wouldn't risk excommunication.”
"You mean they think that leaving me alone, separated from you, I will decide not to marry you -- come to my senses?!"
"Yes, but if you finally insist on the marriage, the wedding has to take place." Manuel stated triumphantly. “You won’t change your mind, will you, Francisca?” he begged, kneeling before her and taking her hand in his.
Brent muttered to Lynae, under his breath, “She looks as bad as you do when you’ve been crying.”
ACT TWO Romeo and Juliet
From the back ground music and changing lights, Brent and Lynae recognized the beginning of Act Two. The setting was again not Verona, but Santa Fé.
"Young man, you are trying to manipulate the church by referring to an ancient law that is never used in this modern day and age." Vicar Bustamante knew that he was being put on the spot when Manuel Armijo appeared before him with his two young friends from Albuquerque as his witnesses. Brent and Lynae stood tall and firmly at his side. Manuel had invited them along when his Santa Fé pals declined to help out of fear of political complications.
"It is only because I know it will anger the Viceroy in Mexico City if I refuse to act on the case. I know that the friars would waste no time in getting a report to Mexico." The Vicar himself admitted, even if he was the Lord Governor's immediate relative. And so, after vain haggling and many excuses, he promised to have Francisca Baca sequestered in a "neutral home," the house of don José Riáno who was a cousin of Governor Bustamante from the same countryside in Spain.
Lynae stayed with Francisca. “I can’t see that this is a very neutral home, in spite of the threat of excommunication,” Lynae reported to Brent on one of his visits. María Roybal, the lady of the house has a younger brother, Mateo who is engaged to Francisca's sister Gregoria.” She explained indicating by the shake of her head that it was another convoluted relationship. “And, you know how the residences on the plaza adjoin each other? It is so easy and tempting for the ladies from all the related families, like the Montoyas and Ortízes, to pester poor Francisca with their arguments night and day. I don’t think they even know about, or at least they don’t understand the seriousness of excommunication.”
Lynae watched in surprise as Francisca greeted her father with a big hug and friendly smile. "Papá everyone has pestered me day and night since I came here. I cannot stand the pressure anymore, so I will give up the love of my life and obey your will." Francisca appeared to be giving up on her plan to marry Manuel. Lynae stood open mouthed with shock, feeling helpless as she listened, but when she saw Francisca crossing fingers behind her back she made a mental note: “Boy, I guess that was a trick even back then to not feel guilty about telling a lie.”
So once out of her enforced isolation, Francisca began meeting her beloved in the dark recesses of the Parróquia, or else in the alameda of cottonwoods and mountain poplars along the villa's mountain stream.
Captain Baca discovered this treachery, but having come to realize that manslaughter would get him into trouble no matter what his political status, Baca decided to send his daughter away secretly, far from Santa Fé, to the great hacienda of his sister Josefa Baca.[3] It was located at Pajarito just south of Albuquerque, a two-day's ride by horse back from Santa Fé. One morning well before dawn, a sad Francisca Baca set out under an armed escort led by her brother-in-law, Antonia Montoya, husband to her sister Ynez.
“Brent,” Francisca begged, "you have to find Manuel and tell him to come to rescue me. Tell him I‘ve been kidnapped! Tell him I’m being held captive against my will!"
Brent promptly mounted a horse standing handily by and sped away to help rescue the fair Francisca. Along the King's Highway, west from the plaza along Agua Fria Street, past the suburb of Alto where Manuel was sleeping soundly, unaware of what was happening to Francisca.
By sunrise the group carrying the unwilling captive had turned more southward to La Cienega, and the over the high plateau of La Tetilla where the men rode cautiously watching for any sign of Apaches. “The Indians killed some sheepherder here just a few weeks ago.” Francisca sobbed, as Lynae tried to comfort her. "I hope the Apaches will attack and kill us too. They have been seen in the area."
"I don't think that would help, and anyway, I am a bit young to die, so let's hope for a different plan." Lynae answered, at the same time unconsciously held tightly to her own scalp, once again wondering about possible future consequences of such an event.
She watched the hillsides where the lonely herders called pastores wandered among their sheep. She thought about the bible references to shepherds and the Good Shepherd, and prayed for help and guidance on this journey, as she had on so many others. Knowing it was an important marriage, and that it was going to happen, she had a hard time making it into a crime that would ‘bring shame on the family.’ As she pondered the ethics of her actions, and the long term results of this entire adventure she fell into a dazed trance which helped numb her against the bumpy wagon seat as well as the slow movement of time.
Lynae spotted goats among the sheep and noticed one black goat among many white sheep. “Why are there black goats in among the sheep?” She asked one of the guards, more to take her mind off the long drive than out of interest in sheep.
“The pastores have only ten fingers to count. They can’t count more sheep than they have fingers. So they count as many sheep as they have fingers, and toss a black rock into a sack. When they have as many rocks as they have fingers, they have a group of one hundred sheep, and put in a black goat so they can keep count. The goats make good leaders, and step-mothers to nurse the orphan lambs. They’ll nurse a lamb right along with their own kids.”
“Was it that important to keep track of the number of sheep in a herd?” Lynae wondered aloud
“Well, both to the patrón and the pastore. Sheep are like money to the owners, and they make the pastores pay for any missing lamb. They have to skin the dead sheep, ears and all and take the pelt back to prove that the sheep had died and how.”[4]
After descending the plateau to the valley of the Río Grande, the party stopped at the Pueblo de Santo Domingo to eat, drink and rest before continuing on to Bernalillo.
"Oh, Lynae, I can't stand it. Not only have I been stolen from my love, but away from my home and family. Look it's getting dark, and I can't even look back on the beautiful Sierra of Santa Fé. It’s completely out of sight.” Francisca was wailing now. “Will I never be allowed again to see the big Parróquia where all my dreams of my wedding and my babies’ baptisms? Will I never see Manuel again?” Lynae was tempted to tell her the outcome of the story, but patiently petted her arm and told her things would be OK.
In the early morning sun as they continued the journey the next day Lynae pointed out the thrilling view of the great Sandía. “That view has always been so beautiful to me,” she gestured hoping to distract Francisca from her misery.
Francisca looked up and answered, “I always look for the first glimpse whenever my family comes down to visit my grandparents and relatives in Bernalillo. But today it gives me no comfort -- the sight only makes me feel even sadder. “
Lynae was beginning to wonder about Francisca; would she ever be happy again? Not even her relatives attempted to comfort her when the party stayed overnight at the paternal Baca hacienda, for they all concurred in saying that her father had done the right thing.
ACT Three Romeo and Juliet
As the caravan arrived at the enormous, prosperous hacienda at Pajarito, they caught a glimpse of, Doña Josefa Baca, elder sister of Captain Antonio Baca. She owned the property, but it was run by a number of ranch hands whose wives took care of the many household chores. She herself had several children, some older and some younger than her niece Francisca.
Lynae felt a little uncomfortable knowing that these children had all been born out of wedlock, but Josefa made no apology and seemed to be comfortable in her life-style choice. Lynae heard whispered gossip that doña Josefa was the secret mistress, or apparently, not-so-secret-mistress, of none other than Governor Domingo Bustamante himself! But this was purely family gossip. Although some of the priests like Father Morfí[5] of the time strongly proposed social reform among the New Mexico settlers, the community as a whole seemed comfortable with less rigid mores.
Several of doña Josefa Baca’s children are on our pedigree chart, Lynae,” Brent reminded her as they met the younger boys and girls in the family.
“She seems to be doing a fine job of single parenting. I guess she probably gets some help from the not so secret father.” Lynae judged. “She seems to be a very strong personality with ideas of her own,” she added. “I don’t think her brother in Santa Fé figured on her siding with romantic love instead of these who were so pious and class-conscious.” Lynae immediately began to like this aging ancestor, especially her attitude. They shared a rebellious streak, which seemed to run through the family for many generations. Finally someone to agree with her.
"Francisca, mi hija, don't worry. Don't cry anymore. You are here, and Tía Josefa will take care of you. ¡No te preocupas!” Josefa held Francisca close and petted her long brown hair. “Everything will come out all right, you will see." Her precious Auntie softly sang the words Lynae had sang so many times before: "Sana sana, colita de rana. Si no sanas hoy sanarás mañana."
Meanwhile, Brent had awakened Manuel, and rode back with him. "The feast of San Lorenzo is coming soon, on the tenth day of August." Lynae explained." I hope it is a bit less exciting than the tenth of August in 1680; I don't want to have to live through another Indian uprising." She suppressed an involuntary shudder of chill.
"The rebellion of Francisca and Manuel might go down in history as just as important, at least in our genealogy." Brent joked. “And just as bloody!” they said in unison, laughing nervously.
"Brent, Josefa is just like the Nurse in Shakespeare's version of this story. Doña Josefa Baca has gone to her parish church in Albuquerque to visit Fray Pedro Montano. She says he will not want to cross her, and he will welcome the opportunity to get even with the bishop's vicar in Santa Fé. I guess he is the friendly Friar Lawrence of Veronica!"
"Let me guess the next scene,” Lynae predicted, standing now in front of that first little church in Albuquerque on August 10,1733. Lynae was quick to appraise the plain front with no towers, but because it faced eastward toward the majestic Sandia Mountains she decided the view almost made up for the difference between it and the Parróquia.
Lynae and Brent stood together in the bare front, near the graveyard looking toward the rows of portaled buildings across the square. "Remember when we were here with Mom? There were trees and a gazebo here where we are standing.” Brent gestured to the bare dirt yard in a casual sounding attempt to cover his anticipation of the excitement that was about to come.
The festive mass in honor of San Lorenzo ended, and the people all began to push forward onto the big square. The musicians were starting to play, and hucksters of tamales and sopaipillas were shouting their wares.
"Oh, Brent, do you have any coins? We could buy some tamales -- I wonder if they are as good as the ones Mom makes at Christmas time."
"Maybe she inherited her tamale talent from one of these ancestors." Brent agreed, his mouth watering, as his heart began to feel a bit homesick.
"Let’s go inside the church,” Lynae urged. "Maybe we can get a good view.” Father Montano still in his red vestments was standing, waiting at the altar. Aunt Josefa and a beaming Francisca stood to one side, turning their expectant faces to the front entrance. From behind the open door Manuel Armijo with Brent and Lynae close by, stepped forward and walked toward the altar.
Before Lynae could even get excited, the friar heard the vows from Manuel and Francisca and pronounced them man and wife.
"Oh, Brent, it was all so beautiful, but not like Francisca had dreamed of. It was too fast, and she didn't have a beautiful gown, or flowers or even music."
"I bet Manuel was glad not to have to wear a tuxedo or boutonnière. I think this is the way any guy would want to have the wedding."
"Oh, Brent, always the romantic!" Lynae scoffed sarcastically.
Somehow the news filtered quickly back to the folks on the plaza, and they begin filling the front graveyard to congratulate the newly-weds. Women standing by quickly made bouquets from flowers they picked from some nearby gardens, and Lynae tossed handsfull of flower petals in the walkway where she expected the couple to walk.
But in place of the newly weds marching triumphantly to their carriage, Lynae turned in horror as she heard a scuffle and a loud murmur. The crowd parted to see two men take their measure with drawn swords. Captain Antonio Chávez, commander of the local garrison stepped into her view, then came another, Antonio Montoya from Santa Fé, Francisca's brother in law.
"Who is on whose side?” Lynae asked along with many other spectators.
“Oh, gosh," Brent murmured. “This is where everyone gets killed in Shakespeare’s play. We better stop it or we won't have any ancestors left to descend from."
“I'll try to stop Antonia Montoya. He’s looking very angry about the wedding. Lynae, you go with Tìa Josefa to intercept Captain Chávez. I have heard him described as a well-known ladies' man in the Río Abajo, but he is married to Antonia Baca, one of Aunt Josefa’s other nieces.”
“Brent, would you quit with the detailed gossip! This is not the time or the place!”
Brent started bellowing in his most commanding ROTC voice, telling people to stop the fight, and was fortunately able to encourage the townsmen to put a stop to the duel.
"Good work, brother. Because of you, there is no graveyard strewn with corpses as in Shakespeare's tragedy." Lynae hugged Brent.
"It’s a good thing we were here,” Brent sighed in relief. “Who would have stopped that fight if we hadn't come? It could have ended with everyone dead, including Manuel and Francisca."
Final Vows
Brent and Lynae returned two years later to watch as Manuel and Francisca moved back to Santa Fé," to have their wedding ceremony renewed in the great Parróquia with all the pomp of bell, book and candles that Francisca had dreamed about.
As for Romeo and Juliet themselves, we know that they had one daughter in 1748, while living in Nambe, but for lack of records we don't know what Armijos and other folks are directly descended from the pair. But as was mentioned at the start, most of the other characters in the drama are our own direct grandparents, from Governor Bustamante and the parents of both Romeo and Juliet to the dueling Captain Chávez. The rest are collateral ancestors.
All this is said here, not by way of boasting, but to show that, since we Hispanic New Mexicans are all cousins from far back, thousands of folds still living on the same stage with the beautiful Sangre de Cristo and Sandia mountains for a perennial backdrop, are in some way or another children of the original cast of New Mexico's Real Romeo and Juliet.
Lynae put down the Chavez article she was reading and sighed. "How romantic," as Brent mumbled something she couldn't understand.
"That was a fun trip to Cedar City," he added casually. "I'm glad we got to go together. You can be pretty fun sometimes." I hope we have more adventures together. I can’t believe how fun it is to get acquainted with our ancestors, who were just names in a box of papers before.
[1] Friar Angelico Chávez Much of this chapter is quotations and paraphrasing of this story by Chavez.
Chavez got his information and details from the existing document consisting of a compliant made by the Franciscan friar of Albuquerque against the bishop's vicar in Santa Fé.
The document of complaint was made against the bishop's vicar in Santa Fé for having broken a certain Spanish law regarding marriage, and of a countercharge against the friar for his having performed a wedding in spite of everything. Fray Angelico Chávez took the information from the court record and turned into a romantic story, telling history and why Manuel and Francisca were not allowed to marry, and why so many people in different levels of society had to get involved.
[2] it looked almost exactly like the present St. Francis auditorium of the museum of fine arts and it was only some sixteen years old at the time. "
[3]Romeo and Juliet; p 264, 144 Chaves Pedro Duran y Chaves married Juana Montoya on January 27, 1703.
Origins Josefa Baca
[4] Coronado p 95
[5] Coronado p 129
"I'm right behind you, fair Juliet. Let's watch the video again so we know the story line."
"This new version is too weird, but I kind of like it.”
“It makes Verona and the families seem all modern and today. It kind of brings it into the present without changing the story.”
Dragging suitcases and a backpack from the car in Cedar City, they watched as costumed actors handed out event flyers. Lynae began to imagine how Brent would look in tight pants and a frilly jacket, and herself as the beautiful young Juliet. Exploring behind the scenes on a tour of the sets, Brent and Lynae stepped out onto the stage as if to perform the play themselves. As the stage curtains opened, where the Montigues and Capulets should have been standing were the Armijos, the Bacas and other people of Santa Fé during the summer of 1733.
"Psst -- Brent! What have you done? We're not in Verona; we're back in Santa Fé. Look at the Sangre Cristo Mountains. There's no mistaking those mountains for anywhere else.”
The narrator began to introduce the play:[1]
In the summer of 1733 young Manuel Armijo and Francisca Baca of Santa Fé fell madly in love with each other. But her father, Captain Antonio Baca, disapproved most vehemently. He even threatened to run Manuel through with his sword if the youngsters continued seeing each other. Undaunted the youth sought legal aid from the church authorities and as a consequence the entire high society connected with church and state became seriously involved.
Brent stared. He decided he would never be able to take this time travel business for granted. "The plaza looks almost the same as it did last time. There's the Palace of the Governors, only it looks like Governor Domingo Bustamante is in charge of the Kingdom of New Mexico like the Prince of Verona, and there is his nephew, Vicar José Bustamante, who also lives at the Palace.”
As Brent and Lynae walked out onto the stage, the audience vanished and the other three sides of the Plaza materialized. These sides made up the more important citizens' residences, among them that Captain Antonio Baca and his wife María Aragon. The houses were built next to each other with portales or large windows across the front.
Up the main street to the east the Parroquía of San Francisco rose high and adobe-clean against the mountain backdrop as the town's most imposing structure.[2]
"Brent, they've finished the Parroquía -- it is really beautiful! And look at little Francisca Baca. She has also grown so beautiful. Too bad all these beautiful girls are related, huh, Brent."
Brent stood by speechlessly blushing.
"Lynae, my friend. You see they have finished the Parroquía nearly sixteen years ago, near the time I was born. I have always imagined that it was built just for me as a celebration of my birth, and here I shall one day marry Manuel Amigo. Here with pomp and ceremony, flowers and bells chiming we will have the most beautiful Church wedding that ever was. ¡O! Here comes Manuel! You won't tell anyone that we are meeting here, Lynae, will you? We have to meet secretly because my parents do not approve of our love."
Brent and Lynae nodded their heads knowingly. After all, they wouldn't even be allowed to date at that age, much less be making plans to marry. "My parents have chosen another man for me to marry when it is time, but I am not in love with the other man. I have always loved Manuel and we are going to be married one day, here in the Parroquía.”
"I know about arranged marriages, but why won't your parents arrange the marriage to Manuel, if you love him and they want you to get married?" Brent asked Francisca.
“Uncle Duane says he is going to arrange my marriage to someone he picks especially for me.” Lynae bragged, at the same time hoping Uncle Duane had been joking.
Francisca attempted to explain. "My family, the Baca's, have been well to do stockmen for generations. Our family came from Bernalillo but my father, Captain Antonio Baca, us to the Villa de Santa Fé some years ago when he become a prominent military leader and civic official. Our family is very close to the governor's. Besides, my father always boasts about being a direct descendant the first conquistadores who had settled the kingdom of New Mexico in 1598, and built the Villa de Santa Fé in 1610. His people had also helped reconquer the kingdom under Governor Vargas in 1693 after the terrible Pueblo Indian Revolt of 1680."
"Yes, that’s true", Brent and Lynae nodded, wide eyed. "We know about that part of our history. We were there."
Francisca ignored this slip of tongue and continued her story. My mother belonged to the wealthy and influential Ortíz family of the Villa."
"So, it’s like you are in a higher social class. I didn't know we were so important." Lynae said smugly, holding up her nose in the air in mock pridefulness.
"But with Manuel 's folks it is differe”nt." Francisca continued.
"His father, Vicente Armijo, holds neither military nor civic posts, and his house stands beyond the western outskirts of town in the barrrio of Alto del Rión, (a street and section along Santa Fé's mountain stream). Besides, the Armijo family only came to New Mexico about forty years ago, in 1695, well after Santa Fé was taken back from the Indians."
"And how would that make them any less important," Brent demanded defensively.
Francesca was not to be side-tracked. "What is still worse in my parents’ eyes, Manuel 's mother, María Apodaca, was half Indian and had no known father. She had been born in some pueblo after her mother was captured by the Indians in the Revolt of 1680."
"And your parents blame her for that? Let me tell you, that was no fun time for any of us! María was one of the lucky ones to even live through the war and captivity at all." Lynae blurted out.
Brent looked more puzzled than before. "But what about Manuel‘s Uncle, Antonio? He is the only surgeon in the Kingdom, and the Ortíz people generally can read and write better than some of the Bacas and other influential families. Doesn't that give them any status? Your parents can't just judge worthiness by where somebody lives and how long they've been in the state." But even as he spoke, they both realized that New Mexico was not yet a state and they could indeed, judge by any standards they chose, as with any age.
"It's kind of funny.” Brent said more in an aside to Lynae. “The Mexicans who are of 'pure Spanish heritage’, hold themselves above those with Indian mixed blood, and among the mixed heritage, they divide themselves according to who came with the early settlers and who didn't. But when more recent Indian blood gets mixed up in the genealogy it creates an even different class of people. My word, I guess there is something to prejudice people against one each other in every generation. The Montigues had their hang ups against the Capulets, and here its the Baca and Ortíz family versus the less wealthy Armijos from the wrong side of the river...”
"What’s worse," Francisca continued weeping, ignoring the side conversation, "is that my father has threatened to kill Manuel if he is caught seeing me again. You see, that is why we meet secretly here at the Parroquía.”
"He wouldn't really kill someone for dating his daughter, would he? He'd never get away with it! What could he plead not guilty by insanity?"
“I don’t know,” Brent whispered. “I understand Dad made some pretty big threats against some of the guys that dated our older sisters.”
"Everybody knows," Francisca corrected, "including Manuel Armijo, that my father could carry out his threat and possibly get away with it."
Lynae wondered privately if her dad would threaten so rashly if she began to date and talk about marriage when she barely turned fifteen.
Manuel appeared from the shadows suddenly. "Francisca, my love, I have nothing more to lose. My life is nothing without you at my side. I have been talking to the friar, the pastor at the Parroquía. Padre is afraid to go against your father because of his political importance and refuses to perform the wedding.
Beautiful Francisca began to cry again.
“No Francisca, don't cry any more.” Manuel said stroking the girl’s long brown hair. I have a plan. In spite of your father and the friar, we will be married soon! Even though he would not perform the ceremony padre gave me a good idea. He may be afraid of your father, but he is the only clergyman in the area. You know how the Franciscans resent the presence of Vicar Bustamante at the Palace. He is the official representative of the Bishop of Durángo in New Spain hundreds of miles away. So, anyway, Padre was happy to inform me of a rarely invoked, but very strict, Spanish law."
"How can an old law help us now. My father knows it is against the law to kill you, but I think he still will, regardless of the law,” Francisca, still not comforted, could not stop the tears that came.
"No, no, listen. According to this law, whenever parents refuse their consent to a marriage, the groom can make a formal complaint before two witnesses to the highest church authority. Then this high personage is obliged to sequester the bride in a neutral home for a stated period, to give her ample time to make up her own mind.”
“That would just give the parents and family time to talk her out of it.” Lynae said remembering all the times Mom had wished she could have talked the older siblings out of rushing into their marriages.
“No,” Manuel continued, “any interference by the parents or others would call for instant excommunication from the church. Even Vicar Bustamante can’t go against that law; your father wouldn't risk excommunication.”
"You mean they think that leaving me alone, separated from you, I will decide not to marry you -- come to my senses?!"
"Yes, but if you finally insist on the marriage, the wedding has to take place." Manuel stated triumphantly. “You won’t change your mind, will you, Francisca?” he begged, kneeling before her and taking her hand in his.
Brent muttered to Lynae, under his breath, “She looks as bad as you do when you’ve been crying.”
ACT TWO Romeo and Juliet
From the back ground music and changing lights, Brent and Lynae recognized the beginning of Act Two. The setting was again not Verona, but Santa Fé.
"Young man, you are trying to manipulate the church by referring to an ancient law that is never used in this modern day and age." Vicar Bustamante knew that he was being put on the spot when Manuel Armijo appeared before him with his two young friends from Albuquerque as his witnesses. Brent and Lynae stood tall and firmly at his side. Manuel had invited them along when his Santa Fé pals declined to help out of fear of political complications.
"It is only because I know it will anger the Viceroy in Mexico City if I refuse to act on the case. I know that the friars would waste no time in getting a report to Mexico." The Vicar himself admitted, even if he was the Lord Governor's immediate relative. And so, after vain haggling and many excuses, he promised to have Francisca Baca sequestered in a "neutral home," the house of don José Riáno who was a cousin of Governor Bustamante from the same countryside in Spain.
Lynae stayed with Francisca. “I can’t see that this is a very neutral home, in spite of the threat of excommunication,” Lynae reported to Brent on one of his visits. María Roybal, the lady of the house has a younger brother, Mateo who is engaged to Francisca's sister Gregoria.” She explained indicating by the shake of her head that it was another convoluted relationship. “And, you know how the residences on the plaza adjoin each other? It is so easy and tempting for the ladies from all the related families, like the Montoyas and Ortízes, to pester poor Francisca with their arguments night and day. I don’t think they even know about, or at least they don’t understand the seriousness of excommunication.”
Lynae watched in surprise as Francisca greeted her father with a big hug and friendly smile. "Papá everyone has pestered me day and night since I came here. I cannot stand the pressure anymore, so I will give up the love of my life and obey your will." Francisca appeared to be giving up on her plan to marry Manuel. Lynae stood open mouthed with shock, feeling helpless as she listened, but when she saw Francisca crossing fingers behind her back she made a mental note: “Boy, I guess that was a trick even back then to not feel guilty about telling a lie.”
So once out of her enforced isolation, Francisca began meeting her beloved in the dark recesses of the Parróquia, or else in the alameda of cottonwoods and mountain poplars along the villa's mountain stream.
Captain Baca discovered this treachery, but having come to realize that manslaughter would get him into trouble no matter what his political status, Baca decided to send his daughter away secretly, far from Santa Fé, to the great hacienda of his sister Josefa Baca.[3] It was located at Pajarito just south of Albuquerque, a two-day's ride by horse back from Santa Fé. One morning well before dawn, a sad Francisca Baca set out under an armed escort led by her brother-in-law, Antonia Montoya, husband to her sister Ynez.
“Brent,” Francisca begged, "you have to find Manuel and tell him to come to rescue me. Tell him I‘ve been kidnapped! Tell him I’m being held captive against my will!"
Brent promptly mounted a horse standing handily by and sped away to help rescue the fair Francisca. Along the King's Highway, west from the plaza along Agua Fria Street, past the suburb of Alto where Manuel was sleeping soundly, unaware of what was happening to Francisca.
By sunrise the group carrying the unwilling captive had turned more southward to La Cienega, and the over the high plateau of La Tetilla where the men rode cautiously watching for any sign of Apaches. “The Indians killed some sheepherder here just a few weeks ago.” Francisca sobbed, as Lynae tried to comfort her. "I hope the Apaches will attack and kill us too. They have been seen in the area."
"I don't think that would help, and anyway, I am a bit young to die, so let's hope for a different plan." Lynae answered, at the same time unconsciously held tightly to her own scalp, once again wondering about possible future consequences of such an event.
She watched the hillsides where the lonely herders called pastores wandered among their sheep. She thought about the bible references to shepherds and the Good Shepherd, and prayed for help and guidance on this journey, as she had on so many others. Knowing it was an important marriage, and that it was going to happen, she had a hard time making it into a crime that would ‘bring shame on the family.’ As she pondered the ethics of her actions, and the long term results of this entire adventure she fell into a dazed trance which helped numb her against the bumpy wagon seat as well as the slow movement of time.
Lynae spotted goats among the sheep and noticed one black goat among many white sheep. “Why are there black goats in among the sheep?” She asked one of the guards, more to take her mind off the long drive than out of interest in sheep.
“The pastores have only ten fingers to count. They can’t count more sheep than they have fingers. So they count as many sheep as they have fingers, and toss a black rock into a sack. When they have as many rocks as they have fingers, they have a group of one hundred sheep, and put in a black goat so they can keep count. The goats make good leaders, and step-mothers to nurse the orphan lambs. They’ll nurse a lamb right along with their own kids.”
“Was it that important to keep track of the number of sheep in a herd?” Lynae wondered aloud
“Well, both to the patrón and the pastore. Sheep are like money to the owners, and they make the pastores pay for any missing lamb. They have to skin the dead sheep, ears and all and take the pelt back to prove that the sheep had died and how.”[4]
After descending the plateau to the valley of the Río Grande, the party stopped at the Pueblo de Santo Domingo to eat, drink and rest before continuing on to Bernalillo.
"Oh, Lynae, I can't stand it. Not only have I been stolen from my love, but away from my home and family. Look it's getting dark, and I can't even look back on the beautiful Sierra of Santa Fé. It’s completely out of sight.” Francisca was wailing now. “Will I never be allowed again to see the big Parróquia where all my dreams of my wedding and my babies’ baptisms? Will I never see Manuel again?” Lynae was tempted to tell her the outcome of the story, but patiently petted her arm and told her things would be OK.
In the early morning sun as they continued the journey the next day Lynae pointed out the thrilling view of the great Sandía. “That view has always been so beautiful to me,” she gestured hoping to distract Francisca from her misery.
Francisca looked up and answered, “I always look for the first glimpse whenever my family comes down to visit my grandparents and relatives in Bernalillo. But today it gives me no comfort -- the sight only makes me feel even sadder. “
Lynae was beginning to wonder about Francisca; would she ever be happy again? Not even her relatives attempted to comfort her when the party stayed overnight at the paternal Baca hacienda, for they all concurred in saying that her father had done the right thing.
ACT Three Romeo and Juliet
As the caravan arrived at the enormous, prosperous hacienda at Pajarito, they caught a glimpse of, Doña Josefa Baca, elder sister of Captain Antonio Baca. She owned the property, but it was run by a number of ranch hands whose wives took care of the many household chores. She herself had several children, some older and some younger than her niece Francisca.
Lynae felt a little uncomfortable knowing that these children had all been born out of wedlock, but Josefa made no apology and seemed to be comfortable in her life-style choice. Lynae heard whispered gossip that doña Josefa was the secret mistress, or apparently, not-so-secret-mistress, of none other than Governor Domingo Bustamante himself! But this was purely family gossip. Although some of the priests like Father Morfí[5] of the time strongly proposed social reform among the New Mexico settlers, the community as a whole seemed comfortable with less rigid mores.
Several of doña Josefa Baca’s children are on our pedigree chart, Lynae,” Brent reminded her as they met the younger boys and girls in the family.
“She seems to be doing a fine job of single parenting. I guess she probably gets some help from the not so secret father.” Lynae judged. “She seems to be a very strong personality with ideas of her own,” she added. “I don’t think her brother in Santa Fé figured on her siding with romantic love instead of these who were so pious and class-conscious.” Lynae immediately began to like this aging ancestor, especially her attitude. They shared a rebellious streak, which seemed to run through the family for many generations. Finally someone to agree with her.
"Francisca, mi hija, don't worry. Don't cry anymore. You are here, and Tía Josefa will take care of you. ¡No te preocupas!” Josefa held Francisca close and petted her long brown hair. “Everything will come out all right, you will see." Her precious Auntie softly sang the words Lynae had sang so many times before: "Sana sana, colita de rana. Si no sanas hoy sanarás mañana."
Meanwhile, Brent had awakened Manuel, and rode back with him. "The feast of San Lorenzo is coming soon, on the tenth day of August." Lynae explained." I hope it is a bit less exciting than the tenth of August in 1680; I don't want to have to live through another Indian uprising." She suppressed an involuntary shudder of chill.
"The rebellion of Francisca and Manuel might go down in history as just as important, at least in our genealogy." Brent joked. “And just as bloody!” they said in unison, laughing nervously.
"Brent, Josefa is just like the Nurse in Shakespeare's version of this story. Doña Josefa Baca has gone to her parish church in Albuquerque to visit Fray Pedro Montano. She says he will not want to cross her, and he will welcome the opportunity to get even with the bishop's vicar in Santa Fé. I guess he is the friendly Friar Lawrence of Veronica!"
"Let me guess the next scene,” Lynae predicted, standing now in front of that first little church in Albuquerque on August 10,1733. Lynae was quick to appraise the plain front with no towers, but because it faced eastward toward the majestic Sandia Mountains she decided the view almost made up for the difference between it and the Parróquia.
Lynae and Brent stood together in the bare front, near the graveyard looking toward the rows of portaled buildings across the square. "Remember when we were here with Mom? There were trees and a gazebo here where we are standing.” Brent gestured to the bare dirt yard in a casual sounding attempt to cover his anticipation of the excitement that was about to come.
The festive mass in honor of San Lorenzo ended, and the people all began to push forward onto the big square. The musicians were starting to play, and hucksters of tamales and sopaipillas were shouting their wares.
"Oh, Brent, do you have any coins? We could buy some tamales -- I wonder if they are as good as the ones Mom makes at Christmas time."
"Maybe she inherited her tamale talent from one of these ancestors." Brent agreed, his mouth watering, as his heart began to feel a bit homesick.
"Let’s go inside the church,” Lynae urged. "Maybe we can get a good view.” Father Montano still in his red vestments was standing, waiting at the altar. Aunt Josefa and a beaming Francisca stood to one side, turning their expectant faces to the front entrance. From behind the open door Manuel Armijo with Brent and Lynae close by, stepped forward and walked toward the altar.
Before Lynae could even get excited, the friar heard the vows from Manuel and Francisca and pronounced them man and wife.
"Oh, Brent, it was all so beautiful, but not like Francisca had dreamed of. It was too fast, and she didn't have a beautiful gown, or flowers or even music."
"I bet Manuel was glad not to have to wear a tuxedo or boutonnière. I think this is the way any guy would want to have the wedding."
"Oh, Brent, always the romantic!" Lynae scoffed sarcastically.
Somehow the news filtered quickly back to the folks on the plaza, and they begin filling the front graveyard to congratulate the newly-weds. Women standing by quickly made bouquets from flowers they picked from some nearby gardens, and Lynae tossed handsfull of flower petals in the walkway where she expected the couple to walk.
But in place of the newly weds marching triumphantly to their carriage, Lynae turned in horror as she heard a scuffle and a loud murmur. The crowd parted to see two men take their measure with drawn swords. Captain Antonio Chávez, commander of the local garrison stepped into her view, then came another, Antonio Montoya from Santa Fé, Francisca's brother in law.
"Who is on whose side?” Lynae asked along with many other spectators.
“Oh, gosh," Brent murmured. “This is where everyone gets killed in Shakespeare’s play. We better stop it or we won't have any ancestors left to descend from."
“I'll try to stop Antonia Montoya. He’s looking very angry about the wedding. Lynae, you go with Tìa Josefa to intercept Captain Chávez. I have heard him described as a well-known ladies' man in the Río Abajo, but he is married to Antonia Baca, one of Aunt Josefa’s other nieces.”
“Brent, would you quit with the detailed gossip! This is not the time or the place!”
Brent started bellowing in his most commanding ROTC voice, telling people to stop the fight, and was fortunately able to encourage the townsmen to put a stop to the duel.
"Good work, brother. Because of you, there is no graveyard strewn with corpses as in Shakespeare's tragedy." Lynae hugged Brent.
"It’s a good thing we were here,” Brent sighed in relief. “Who would have stopped that fight if we hadn't come? It could have ended with everyone dead, including Manuel and Francisca."
Final Vows
Brent and Lynae returned two years later to watch as Manuel and Francisca moved back to Santa Fé," to have their wedding ceremony renewed in the great Parróquia with all the pomp of bell, book and candles that Francisca had dreamed about.
As for Romeo and Juliet themselves, we know that they had one daughter in 1748, while living in Nambe, but for lack of records we don't know what Armijos and other folks are directly descended from the pair. But as was mentioned at the start, most of the other characters in the drama are our own direct grandparents, from Governor Bustamante and the parents of both Romeo and Juliet to the dueling Captain Chávez. The rest are collateral ancestors.
All this is said here, not by way of boasting, but to show that, since we Hispanic New Mexicans are all cousins from far back, thousands of folds still living on the same stage with the beautiful Sangre de Cristo and Sandia mountains for a perennial backdrop, are in some way or another children of the original cast of New Mexico's Real Romeo and Juliet.
Lynae put down the Chavez article she was reading and sighed. "How romantic," as Brent mumbled something she couldn't understand.
"That was a fun trip to Cedar City," he added casually. "I'm glad we got to go together. You can be pretty fun sometimes." I hope we have more adventures together. I can’t believe how fun it is to get acquainted with our ancestors, who were just names in a box of papers before.
[1] Friar Angelico Chávez Much of this chapter is quotations and paraphrasing of this story by Chavez.
Chavez got his information and details from the existing document consisting of a compliant made by the Franciscan friar of Albuquerque against the bishop's vicar in Santa Fé.
The document of complaint was made against the bishop's vicar in Santa Fé for having broken a certain Spanish law regarding marriage, and of a countercharge against the friar for his having performed a wedding in spite of everything. Fray Angelico Chávez took the information from the court record and turned into a romantic story, telling history and why Manuel and Francisca were not allowed to marry, and why so many people in different levels of society had to get involved.
[2] it looked almost exactly like the present St. Francis auditorium of the museum of fine arts and it was only some sixteen years old at the time. "
[3]Romeo and Juliet; p 264, 144 Chaves Pedro Duran y Chaves married Juana Montoya on January 27, 1703.
Origins Josefa Baca
[4] Coronado p 95
[5] Coronado p 129
Letter to my Grand and Great Grand Children
My Dear Grandchildren;
As I was growing up then, as my children were growing up, we liked to read stories together of the pioneers and early days to get to know how things were done and how people acted. As I read them I always thought how lucky they were to live in times so different from ours so they could write about them and have interesting things to say.
Through the years, I began to see the changes in our own lifetimes have been interesting. The differences between my mother’s world, and my world, compared to my children's world and their children's world are wonderful, and indeed worth writing about.
In my family, our ancestors came to the Americas as early as l570 from the Canary Islands, near Spain, and early l600's my father’s family came with the early puritan fathers. One of our earliest ancestors to live in the new Americas was George Jacobs, who lived in the Massachusetts colony of Salem and was actually hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witchcraft trials. That is another story and is recorded in history. From there the Jacobs spread across the territories and into the west where my father, Charles Glenn Jacobs, was born in South Dakota in l907. His father and mother were ranchers as their parents had been, and they helped settle the territories. From Dakota to Texas my father came with his father, and from there to Arizona.
My grandmother brought with her from Dakota a wooden chest that had been made for her mother, from her mother’s wooden dining room table. That chest was given to my Aunt and she gave it to me. And I inherited a wind up wooden clock. When we found an old lone star quilt that our grandmother had done, it was ragged and torn, so we cut out the best four squares and each took one. That’s about the entire physical legacy we have. These are symbols of the sacrifices and the courage of my forefathers.
I have nothing of my Mother's parents except copies of pictures of them; they died when she was a baby. Mother's people were among the very earliest settlers of the New Mexico territories, and were citizens of Spain until their lands came to be owned by Mexico, then the United States territories. Their influence throughout the history of the west is great, and it is our heritage, just as is that my father.
I do not have stories of emigrants from other countries, but of western settlers and pioneers, the earliest of citizens of the United States of America.
All I have of my grandmothers is what my uncles and aunts have told me over the years. I want to leave something for my grandchildren and so I am writing these books as letters to my grandchildren. Through them, you will also come to know Aunt Lynae and Uncle Brent as young teens, and a little bit about their older siblings and the amazing people they all were, and how human we all were. Maybe someday you will give it to your children and their children, so each will know that although our lives might be very different, there is a courage and a pioneer spirit that runs strong among our family, and, knowing this, you will turn your hearts to your forefathers.
So my dear grandchildren, this is for you
from Grandma Lynda (LoLyn)
As I was growing up then, as my children were growing up, we liked to read stories together of the pioneers and early days to get to know how things were done and how people acted. As I read them I always thought how lucky they were to live in times so different from ours so they could write about them and have interesting things to say.
Through the years, I began to see the changes in our own lifetimes have been interesting. The differences between my mother’s world, and my world, compared to my children's world and their children's world are wonderful, and indeed worth writing about.
In my family, our ancestors came to the Americas as early as l570 from the Canary Islands, near Spain, and early l600's my father’s family came with the early puritan fathers. One of our earliest ancestors to live in the new Americas was George Jacobs, who lived in the Massachusetts colony of Salem and was actually hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witchcraft trials. That is another story and is recorded in history. From there the Jacobs spread across the territories and into the west where my father, Charles Glenn Jacobs, was born in South Dakota in l907. His father and mother were ranchers as their parents had been, and they helped settle the territories. From Dakota to Texas my father came with his father, and from there to Arizona.
My grandmother brought with her from Dakota a wooden chest that had been made for her mother, from her mother’s wooden dining room table. That chest was given to my Aunt and she gave it to me. And I inherited a wind up wooden clock. When we found an old lone star quilt that our grandmother had done, it was ragged and torn, so we cut out the best four squares and each took one. That’s about the entire physical legacy we have. These are symbols of the sacrifices and the courage of my forefathers.
I have nothing of my Mother's parents except copies of pictures of them; they died when she was a baby. Mother's people were among the very earliest settlers of the New Mexico territories, and were citizens of Spain until their lands came to be owned by Mexico, then the United States territories. Their influence throughout the history of the west is great, and it is our heritage, just as is that my father.
I do not have stories of emigrants from other countries, but of western settlers and pioneers, the earliest of citizens of the United States of America.
All I have of my grandmothers is what my uncles and aunts have told me over the years. I want to leave something for my grandchildren and so I am writing these books as letters to my grandchildren. Through them, you will also come to know Aunt Lynae and Uncle Brent as young teens, and a little bit about their older siblings and the amazing people they all were, and how human we all were. Maybe someday you will give it to your children and their children, so each will know that although our lives might be very different, there is a courage and a pioneer spirit that runs strong among our family, and, knowing this, you will turn your hearts to your forefathers.
So my dear grandchildren, this is for you
from Grandma Lynda (LoLyn)
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