Political Intrigue

“This Governor Lopez Mendízabal must have been a real piece of work,” Lynae commented as she read the entries[1] involved hiding while the room aired out. “Listen to this:
Our own Andres Hurtado is first mentioned in 1661 as a capitan, 33 years old. He was born in the city of Zacatecas and was then living in the Sandia district. In 1664 he was captain of cavalry and also Syndic of the Franciscans. He was married to Bernadina de Salas y Orozco. When he held the encomiendas de Santa Ana and the neighboring pueblos, our ancestor Andres Hurtado was cruelly persecuted by the governor for his friendship with the friars – to punish him for being friends with and helping out the friars, not just him, but his whole family was forced to move from Sandia to Santa Fé in the dead of winter in 1661. He didn't live long enough to be involved in the 1680 Indian uprising.
“Here's another one of our guys, Brent offered, skimming ahead in the book, ignoring the reference to the uprising:
“Manuel Jorge was the son of the Greek Juan Jorge who was a worker in metals, which was his family trade. That would be a fun job, make horseshoes and armor and knives and guns.”
"Isn't that the Greek that knew that artist -- oh, what's his name?”
“Yeah, El Gréco, they probably grew up together in the same town in Spain. There was a show about him on PBS last summer.” Brent continued reading: Manuel Jorge, armorer or blacksmith imprisoned by Governor Mendízabal in 1661. Who knows what he was imprisoned for, playing a game of horseshoes with the governor's metal?”
“Chaves thinks his wife might have been a daughter of the family of Diego de Vera and Maria Ortíz.”
“Here's one smart ancestor, Pedro De Leyva, age fifty. In 1664, he managed to escape from Mendízabal's to Spain. He was born in El Valle de San Bartólome, in New Spain -- that would be Mexico City. He was promoted to Captain and Lieutenant Governor for the Salinas Pueblo district; his wife was Catalina García. This says he was a compadre of Diego Gonzalez Lobon -- that means they were either good friends or their kids married each other, and Gonzales Lobon whom he helped escape.”
“The governor didn't believe in extra wives, apparently. In 1669 he exiled Alonso Martin Barba for concubinage.”
“What's concubinage?" Lynae asked.
"When you’re older," Brent used his usual infuriating excuse not to explain.
"OK, I'm older now,” Lynae said after a brief pause, “so tell me now."
"You know how Solomon had many wives and concubines? That." Brent said, satisfied that it was a good enough explanation.
“By 1661 it says, poor Jorge is dead. His widow, Ana Baca, a sister of Antonio Jorge's wife, lived in her estancia del Alamo about four leagues from Santa Fe. Good old Governor Mendízabal couldn’t even leave the ladies alone, and berated her for being devoted to the Franciscans. He also tried to claim that she owed him money borrowed for her daughter's wedding.”
“That rebellion keeps coming up. I don’t want to go there; I don’t want to go there! I - don’t - want - to - go - there.” Brent chanted putting his hands over his ears to block out any words he might hear about it emphasizing each word the third time.
“It sure changed genealogy and history for the whole future.” Lynae continued shouting over his increasing volume. “How different things might have been for all of us if all those who were massacred or captured would have lived to have descendants.”
“Don Fernando Durán y Chaves,” Lynae chanted on, reveling in Brent’s apparent misery. “He died some years after, for in April, 1669, he is referred to as recently deceased. He might have died in an Indian expedition he led in 1668.”
Brent paged through the Chaves book looking for a change of subject. “Sebastian de Sandoval was an abusive individual who was murdered in Santa Fé in 1640 as a result of his open and continuous slanders against local citizens and their women. His talk about religious matters earned him an excommunication, so the question of his burial also created a public crisis; he was not a native of New Mexico, and he died before establishing himself as a colonist, if he ever intended to do so.”
Brent read the entry very fast and loud, ending in satisfaction as if he had managed to protect himself from thinking of the rebellion.
There were others who worked with our own family members in illicit trade with the Plains Indians. “Matias Romero was the second son of old Bartolome, most likely born before his parents reached New Mexico. He was an Alferez Real and also High Sheriff of Santa Fé in 1631 when he refused to testify against his brother in law, Gaspar Perez. His wife, Isabel de Padraza,was a cousin of María de Archuleta, wife of Juan Marquez. In 1644 he and Juan Gomez de Luna were accused not only of illicit trade and making captives for Governor Rosas. Matias died in Santa Fé about 1648.”
“Diego del Río de Losa was twenty-four years old when he witnessed the murder of Governor Rosas in Santa Fé, 1632.
“Shortly after that he was deeply involved in the Governor Rosas murder affair and was beheaded with other officers in 1643. In the 1642 trial other accomplice was named as Salazar Hachero. He was married and living in Santa Fé, but had been born in Mexico. This Salazar Hachero was the main ringleader in the anti-Rosas faction that caused the Governor's death. He also was the leader of the people who defied the Governor by barricading themselves with the friars at Santo Domingo Pueblo. His turbulent career ended on July 21, 1643, when he was beheaded with others in Santa Fe. His wife , Yumar Perez de Bustillo, was forty years old in 1631, was also born in Mexico in 1589, coming to New Mexico as a child with her parents.
“You remember Yumar, Brent, she was that pretty little thing you fell in love with in Santa Fe.”
“Don Fernando Durán y Cháves was embroiled in two major political crises, the first around the year 1640, and the second around 1669. The first was the Governor Rosas affair when he testified against him in favor of the friars.
“It’s a good thing they had kids before they were beheaded, or it would have ended the line there! Who else was beheaded for that murder?”
“Pacheco took over after the murder and ordered the execution of eight soldiers. Juan Ruiz de Hinojos, Juan Lujan II, Diego Márquez accused as a major accomplice, Diego Martín, Barba Nicolas Ortíz who actually murdered the Governor on January 25, 1642. Ortiz was sent to Mexico City for a final verdict, arrested on the way the governor of Nueva Vizcaya, and re-tried and sentenced to hang, but he escaped from prison and was not heard of again.”
“That’s why you like to call yourself Pacheco, you’re just as mean and cruel sometimes as he is.”
“Well, he’s not really an ancestor, how could he be? There appears to be no children by that marriage -- at least not in the records.”
[1] History and Origins