Las Vegas to Santa Fe

Las Vegas to Santa Fe
Brent and Lynae were bored. It was a long Labor Day weekend with no school. Their dad was working, and Gina, their stepmother, was away for the morning practicing with the choir for an upcoming regional conference. It was storming and the rain and thunder made Lynae shudder, even though the August weather in Las Vegas was still warm. Lightning flashing nearby caused her to dive onto the bed, pulling a pillow over her head with a shriek. She pulled the Indian blanket from the top of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"It makes me mad when we don't get to go with Mom for the long weekends. I liked it better when we lived close enough to Mom to visit two weekends a month,” Brent pouted ignoring his sister’s scream.
"I wish it could be summer vacation all the time so we could stay with Mom and go on adventures all year round," agreed twelve-year-old Lynae moving the pillow from her face.
"Let’s imagine an adventure with Mom. We can look through the family history books and Mom’s genealogy books and imagine that we are able to travel through time and meet with our ancestors. I’m glad she wanted us to keep her wooden chest for here while she is traveling. We can learn a lot of things about our ancestors from this stuff.”


“We already learned a bunch, stopping at every museum and historical marker in New Mexico.[1]"
"Can you imagine really meeting up with some old Spaniard and discovering he was our great-great-grandfather?" I can't even speak Spanish very well, how would we talk to them?" Brent brushed and polished the new western boots he had purchased at the leather shop on the Mexican side of the river in El Paso. The ornate designs carved into the thick leather intrigued him.
"We could wear universal translators like in Star Trek®," Lynae said, pinning on rose shaped pin she found in the chest. "Here you pin this one on, it looks like a feather pen and scroll."
"I think these pins were Mom's when she was our age. We better be sure to put them back into the display case when we are finished. They might be valuable -- at least as heirlooms." Brent stated pragmatically. “She sure didn’t want to leave the chest in a storage garage.”
As they pinned the pins onto their Colorful New Mexico T-shirts lightening blasted, illuminating the entire room, and causing the electricity to fail. The walls of the small apartment seemed to dissolve, and before them appeared the mountainous area of northern New Mexico they remembered driving through the past summer to visit their Grandma Lucy.
"Where are we? This doesn’t look like our apartment! What’s happening Brent?”
"More to the point, WHEN are we? It doesn’t even look like our century! Look at the houses and roads.”
“Look over there," Lynae followed the line of his pointing finger without, interrupting her flow of questions. "There’s two boys about our age. Let’s ask them."
Maybe they know where and when we are," Brent said hopefully, always the one to immediately want more fact and information.
As they walked closer they heard the boys talking:
"I am afraid for us, Antonio." The young Indian boy was drawing with his stick in the red dirt of the estancia outside of Santa Fe. "We have grown up together almost as brothers, but one day, we may have to fight each other as enemies."
"Why would you want to fight me?" Antonio Baca asked his young friend. We have lived together and worked together. I can't remember the time before you and I were together. My father has been your father and my mother, your mother.”
"That is all true," Juan admitted. "But when I speak with other people of my pueblo they remind me that we were taken from our real parents by your people. Taken away by the friars and soldiers that came into our pueblos forcing our parents to accept your gods and your commandments. We were taken from our homes and made to learn the catechism and our parents that would not do these things -- that would not bow down to your god -- they were killed. My people say that someday we shall be a strong people again, and then we will rise up against the Spaniards. We will take back our land and our homes, and we will live again as the Pueblo People did for centuries before your people came and conquered our lands. They say that is something we must not forget -- ever."
"That's foolish talk, Juan," Antonio shouted at his friend and foster brother. "Your people, my people! You don't even remember the Pueblos. You don't even remember how to speak the language of your fathers. You are as much a Catholic and a Spaniard as I am.
“How can you talk about fighting your own people -- we are your people, my family is your family. You are a Spaniard as much as I am."
"No, Antonio, I am of the Pueblos. Your people have changed my language and my gods and even my name. But they cannot change my heart and my skin. I was just a small child when I was taken to live with your family. I didn't even have a Pueblo name, but I know it would not have been Juan. What kind of name is Juan, anyway? It has no meaning. It is not the name of a Pueblo man!"
"You know as well as I do from our catechism, it is the name of Juan Bautisto, John the Baptist, who baptized our Lord Jesus Christ in the River Jordan in Jerusalem -- over 1600 years ago. Having his name is a great honor. Juan is also the name of the apostle that loved our Lord, and took care of Mary. ¿Why are you talking so crazy, my brother. What has gotten into you?"
Brent and Lynae looked at each other in astonishment. “Sixteen hundred years ago -- Jesus -- baptized.” Lynae stammered.
“That means we are four hundred years ago -- sometime around 1600.” Brent interpreted.
But before either Lynae or Juan could answer, Antonio’s sisters Isabel and Juana came into view from behind a barn like building. They motioned for the boys to return to the house for dinner.
"Bring your two friends along. There is plenty for everyone."
Brent passed a startled look to Lynae as they realized they had been invited to dinner at their ancestors’ table. They turned and followed the boys into the house, immediately noticing the change of temperature and the wonderful odor of cooking from the kitchen. Antonio’s mom was dressed in a simple straight dress of gamuza, made from buckskin, much like the neighboring Indian women dressed. Her long hair was pulled back and held at the nape of her neck with a decorated raw hide tie, then braided down the middle of her back to her waist. The Spanish men and women had put away their fine silks and laces for the more practical dress of the frontier. Cristóbal Baca wore chamois, and the boys were dressed in buckskin pants and shirts.
"Papá," Antonio ventured during the evening meal at the adobe house his father had built with the help of the Indian servants. "I can still remember coming here on the wagon train from Mexico City. I was very small, but I remember the long days of walking along beside the wagons and the soldiers with us. I can remember when we built our house, and I remember many things about those years when I was a small child. But I don't remember when or why Juan came to live with us here. He is like a brother to me, but he says he is just a slave like those who work with you in the fields and with the animals."
Cristóbal Baca looked at his growing son; he reminded him much of himself at that awkward age, no longer a boy, but not yet a man. The older Baca was well past forty now, dark complexioned and considered to be well featured by those who described him. Both he and his wife, Doña Ana Ortíz, had been born in Mexico City.
He gazed at the blond, fair skinned, visitor at his table, who so much resembled his own mother and grandmother of his youthful memories. Considering Antonio’s question he thought of his childhood, and remembered that often he had wondered where the country of Spain was, the country his parents had come from. He had never been able to imagine what it would be like to cross the ocean to a foreign land. Mexico City was the only home Ana had every known. What had compelled him to take his wife and three daughters and his young son to travel thousands of miles to help settle a barren wilderness? What had compelled their parents to cross the great ocean and leave their homeland in Spain, to move to a new world? He passed a meaningful glance at his wife, and chose his words carefully. The children listened silently with anticipation.
"My sons -- for Juan, I consider you my son as much as I do Antonio. Many changes are taking place in the world in your short lifetimes -- many changes for our people and for our world. Not even eighty years before I was born, explorers began traveling about the world. Until that time I have heard it said that most people thought the world was flat, thinking that Spain and the countries around Spain were all there was to the entire world. Personally, I don’t believe many thought the world was flat, that was more a myth among those who never went to sea.
“But when Queen Isabela agreed to provide ships and sailors to Cristóbal Colón Christopher Columbus) so he could follow the stories of men like Amerigus Vespucci and others who claimed the world was round -- that they could sail around the world to find trade routes to China, our world began to change very rapidly. When Columbus sailed into this New World, he reported that he had found India; he took back samples of gold and silver and even native people he found here. I understand that Amerigus Vespucci claimed that it was he who had discovered the new continent. The mapmakers of the day began labeling the new maps of this land as Amerigus' land. It soon began to be called by that name so that the whole continent was referred to as the Americas.
"I wondered about that," Lynae said thoughtfully, entering the conversation while serving the men and boys at the table. “You'd think we would call it Columbia, like in the song, 'Colombia the gem of the ocean.'[2] Lynae broke into a line of song vibrantly. Brent hushed her with a glance that she knew so well meant she was embarrassing him.
"They thought they had found India," Brent recognized the story every child learned in school and interrupted excitedly. "People began calling the natives Indians, and soon all the natives of this new land were referred to as Indians.”
“That’s right,” Papá Baca smiled, “even though there were hundreds of tribes with distinct languages, social and cultural patterns that made them very different from one another. Within a short time after Columbus reported his discoveries, more expeditions set out to find gold and silver and jewels. The stories heard in Spain told of whole cities that were plated with gold, with streets of gold and men who wore ornaments of pure gold and diamonds and silver and other riches.”
“I still hear stories from my people that such cities once did exist among their ancestors." Juan added.
Brent couldn't contain his curiosity and asked, "But what would make people leave their homes and cross an ocean to an unknown land with their families? I can't even imagine! Going to church and starting a new school in a new city is scaring me plenty."
Cristóbal explained, "In Spain at that time the wealthy landowners passed their wealth along to only the oldest of their sons -- leaving the other children with nothing to look forward to. Becoming a soldier or a member of a church order as a teacher or friar or monk was all there was, even if they had choices.
The daughters were fortunate if they were married off to a landowner, but most were not. Lynae and Isabel, by your age, you might have been promised to an older man with a family who had lost his wife, mostly to care for the house and children, or be sent to become nuns in a monastery, just to be sure you were taken care of. Brent, there wouldn't be much for you except to join the military or become a friar."
"I like the military. I would have gone into the Air Force." Brent said proudly, missing the questioning looks that passed his way from the rest of the family. It was Lynae's turn to shush Brent.
"Well,” Papá Baca continued, "there was a great deal of poverty and hardship. When the stories began to circulate of wealth and land with promises of titles and nobility to anyone who would make the explorations. Most people, no matter what their social status, were happy and excited to volunteer for a part in the expeditions.”
“Royalty? What sort of title would be given to farmers?” Brent questioned.
“That of Hidalgo — a term coined from higo de algo – which really only means son of something. I’ve heard it said ‘an hidalgo is a man who hasn’t eaten for three days, but appears on the street chewing on a toothpick, as if he’d just finished a banquet. The Hidalgo had pride, even if his pantry was bare. Appearances were everything.[3] “
Papá Baca laughed, then continued. “Our grandparents sailed to New Spain on some of the earliest ships bringing colonists. They settled in colonies around Mexico City and raised their families on land of their own. Their families in Spain considered them almost as royalty.
"Early explorers, including a grandfather Cabeza de Vaca, endured shipwreck and many years of enslavement by some of the Indian tribes far to the south of here. Later they explored the area, returning to Spain with great stories -- some true and some enhanced and exaggerated. They awed their families with claims that in this land there was gold and silver for anyone who would make the trip.
An Indian guide, El Turco, led Cornado’s party into the wilderness with promises of leading them to the hidden golden City of Quivira. When it turned out to be no more than a poverty stricken Indian village, Coronado tortured a confession out of El Turco that he had planned to lead them into the desert and leave them to die of hunger and thirst to avenge some past wrongs to his people. He was strangled as punishment.[4]"
The children listened in awe. Each was calculating the impact such struggles would have on their own lives, imagining the adventures and hardships.
"I can understand that!” Brent and Antonio stated together.
“I would want my family to have a better life if I could offer it to them."
"At the same time, the Pueblo people were fighting drought and warring Plains tribes and facing a decline in their population. They had moved in and out of their pueblos for generations due to droughts and the aggressiveness of the Plains Tribes that fought them and stole from them. The Pueblos lived for centuries as farmers, peacefully raising crops, securing their families by saving up to three years of food supplies at a time. They hunted and fished and traded with other tribes for the necessities, but mostly they kept to themselves, living off the land, hunting and gathering since the beginning of man.
"That's how I want to live,” Antonio announced enthusiastically. ”[5]and Juan can come live with me in a new wilderness."
"Why did the new colonists have a problem with leaving the Indians alone to continue living the way they wanted?" Lynae asked thoughtfully, interrupting the boys’ fantasy.
"Everything the Pueblo tribes did seem to have been a religious ritual. Their gods were the mountains and plants, the animals, even the sun, moon and stars in the sky. The entire social and political activities of those people revolved around their religious rites. Even art in their baskets and pottery told the stories of their gods.”[6]
"And is there a problem with that?” Brent questioned, recalling the beautiful Native American pottery, paintings and rugs that had been displayed in Villa de Guadalupe, where they had visited with Auntie Lola, in Gallup.
"When these activities were reported to the King and Queen of Spain, the Church authorities decided that it was important to teach all the natives of the New World about the true God and about Christianity, so they would all be saved.” Cristóval harrumphed, obviously not in agreement.
“I'm sure the original plan was a good one,” Doña Ana defended, “and the men who thought it was important were really interested in saving the souls of these natives who they considered heathen. But I think something went terribly wrong when the soldiers and the colonists, and yes, I’m sorry to say, even some friars, became aware of the wealth of the Incas in Mexico.”
“In the name of saving the heathens they destroyed entire tribes of Incas and destroyed ancient civilizations along with all the religious and cultural relics that were within those areas.” Cristóval argued. “Lust for gold and wealth overpowered the initial spiritual objectives, and it seems that everyone involved
in those early expeditions had nothing more on their mind than conquering the Indians to steal their gold."
“So religion became an excuse to conquer," Brent restated, beginning to sound as angry as his ancient ancestor.
"...and saving souls became an excuse to persecute and enslave the Indians." Lynae finished his thought, as she began to follow Isabel’s example of clearing the pottery plates and bowls from the wooden table.
"How much was lost of ancient cultures when the conquistadores made their claims and purged the many villages, no one will ever know." Isabel added solemnly.
"Your people, Juan, lived further north, here among the deserts and mountains near that new city of Santa Fé, and along the Río Grande. The stories of gold and the legends of the golden cities drew explorers further north into their country. Some of the Plains Indians became guides to the explorers like Cortez and Cabeza de Vaca. To make their employers happy, the guides told them the legends they knew of the ancient cities of gold, but they told them as if those cities still existed in this very area."
"I’ve never seen any gold houses around here," Antonio emphasized sounding like he had explored every town in the province of New Mexico.
"As the explorers moved northward they found no gold or silver cities. They were disappointed at the poverty and the mud houses they found instead of the golden palaces they expected."
"But with the explorers came many men of faith; many of the friars truly had the souls of their Indian brothers in mind. As they marched northward and met with the Indians, they taught them about God and about Jesus Christ," defended doña Ana.
"Among many of the Indian tribes ancient legends were passed down over thousands of years. The Legends were about a white God who had come as a man to the ancient tribes, teaching them a way of peace and a new way to live. He promised to return one day in the future.”

“¡I’ve heard some stories like that!” Brent exclaimed. “The Spanish conquistadores that came with Cortez seemed to have come from the sky, and they appeared much as the legend described the white god, bearded and fair skinned.”
“Yes, and believing that the bearded white-god had returned as promised anciently, they submitted willingly to the newcomers, and to learn the ways of Christianity. “ Lynae remembered Mom telling them about that when they were driving.
“The daughter of one of the last kings told the story to the conquerors -- she became the wife of one of them, and the blood-lines, as well as the cultures of the Indians and Spaniards became forever blended.[7]” Brent contributed quoting Mom’s story.
“After that first inter-racial marriage was accepted, most of the soldiers took wives from among the Indians. Or they married the Indian mothers of their children already born." The conversation began to sound like the ones in their family when Uncle Glenn and Mom started talking about modern day politics. Lynae and Brent listened intrigued by their surroundings, their ancestors, and the subject.
"Many of the friars were good hearted men who truly wanted to save the souls of all men by teaching them and bringing them to believe in Jesus Christ.” It was back in doña Ana’s court.
“But soldiers and colonists wanting gold, wealth, and lands got mixed with the spiritual goals of the church. While the men of God were trying to give spiritual wealth to the natives, others were taking all the worldly wealth they could get a hold of, including the wives and children, their food, animals, and any precious metals or jewels that they might find among them,” Cristóbal summarized.
Then he added his thoughts in order to answer the original starting point of the family dinner conversation.
"Then Oñate was granted the contract from Spain to lead a wagon train of soldiers and settlers north into province of New Mexico. Your mother and I decided this would be our chance to obtain land of our own to pass on to our children and grandchildren as an inheritance – our legacy. We chose to leave our comfortable homes in Mexico City to be a part of these new settlements. We heard these stories of wealth and abundant fertile land. We were promised we would be able to have all the Indians we needed to help build this new land. We didn't think of the Indians as slaves, and we have tried to treat them all well. In many cases, they are better off working our estancia than they were in the Pueblos where they had to fight off the Plains Indians, droughts and wild animals, “Cristóbal rationalized. “The friars give them the spiritual gifts that will save their souls and allow them to live in heaven when they die," he added less confidently, looking in his wife’s direction.
Brent thought that Cristóbal was trying more to convince himself and his family than anyone else.
"And Juan," doña Ana said, laying her hand on the boy’s shoulder, "you have been our son. We love you and treat you as one of our family. We love you as if you were our own son."
"The world has changed greatly in our generation and will continue to change, but this much will not change. We will always love and honor you as a part of our family, just as we do Ana whom we brought with us when we came from Mexico City,"
Papá agreed.
Later when the children were asleep and the house was quiet, Lynae and Isabel heard Doña Ana ask her husband, "Cristóbal, will the Indians really ever forget who they are and become Christians? Or are we in danger of them rebelling against us as they did in the early days?"
Cristóbal didn't answer immediately, but then he said the words that were meant to comfort his wife, as much as himself. "The natives have been subdued by the soldiers. They have been converted to Christianity by the friars. The world is changing, my Ana. It is our world. We will live together as brothers in peace under Christ." Doña Ana shifted the sleeping baby, Alonso, into his cradle and returned to the comfort of the bed.
“Válgame Diós.” Isabel sighed. Lying nearby, wrapped in a brightly colored woven blanket, Lynae heard Isabel’s whispered prayer. "Bless me my God; let me live to be a mother and a grandmother to many generations." Lynae remembered hearing her grandmother Lucy whisper that same prayer, "Válgame Diós, she echoed silently." Isabel and her mother slept calmly that night believing the words of Cristóbal Baca.
Cristóbal lay awake into the night after all his family members were asleep. He was not so certain of what he had told his wife. He had been with Oñate and the soldiers when they killed so many Indian families. Soldiers had forced the natives to submit to the Church conversions. He had known some of the men who had attacked the Acoma villages on the excuse of punishing the tribe for crimes committed against the band of soldiers. He remembered with a shudder the screams and curses of hundreds of Indian men, women, and children slaughtered by Oñate’s orders. Though Oñate returned to New Spain with no gold or wealth, was tried and convicted for his crimes, too many more men like Oñate, with the thirst for blood and the lust for gold made Cristóbal unsure that the Spaniards would ever become one people under one God with the native people. Too many things had gone wrong, and too many lives had been taken in the name of religion to leave him feeling like a spiritual brother or leader to any people. Perhaps it was truly blessing from God that the King of Spain had given up on finding wealth in this new world and it had become only a security area for the protection of the over two thousand Indian converts who could never go back to their old ways. They could not even survive if abandoned by the Spaniards[8]. Very possibly, he thought, it was a blessing that no gold or silver had been found in the territory. That very fault might possibly save the land for the more important inheritance that Cristóbal wished to pass on to his heirs.

*Papá Baca
*Papá Baca
*Papá Baca
The names and detailed descriptions and anecdotal tid bits of individuals can be found in Origins of New Mexico Families by Fry Angelco Chavez where they are listed alphabetically for easy reference. A change of font indicates a direct quote from the source and a footnote at the beginning of the chapter identifies the source(s).
[2] Columbia the Gem of the Ocean, author
[3] Coronado p 104
[4] Santa Fe Trail p 12 many details of the trails and scenery are taken from this book.
[5] New Mexico pp. 23-27, 92-94 History p. 12-14 many details in the following chapters about the people, places and culture are from these two books. Change of font indicates direct quotations or close paraphrasing.
[6] New Mexico p. 26
[7] James Mitchner Mexico, and oral tradition
[8] New Mexico pp. 34