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Disappeared from Their Sight, Taking The

          Road To Mexico, Where Doubtless He Arrived.

 

 

 

Charlevoix,[2] Who Travelled from Quebec To New Orleans In the

Year 1721, Says In one Of His Letters To The Duchess Of Lesdiguieres,

Dated at Kaskaskia, July 21, 1721:

 

 

 

          About Two Years Ago Some Spaniards, Coming, As They Say,

          From New Mexico, And Intending To Get Into The Country Of

          The Illinois And Drive The French From Thence, Whom They

          Saw With Extreme Jealousy Approach So Near The Missouri,

          Came Down The River And Attacked two Villages Of The

          Octoyas,[3] Who Are The Allies Of The Ayouez,[4] And From

          Whom It Is Said Also That They Are Derived.  As The Savages

          Had No Firearms And Were Surprised, The Spaniards Made An

          Easy Conquest And Killed a Great Many Of Them.  A Third

          Village, Which Was Not Far Off From The Other Two, Being

          Informed of What Had Passed, And Not Doubting But These

          Conquerors Would Attack Them, Laid An Ambush Into Which

          The Spaniards Heedlessly Fell.  Others Say That The Savages,

          Having Heard That The Enemy Were Almost All Drunk And

          Fast Asleep, Fell Upon Them In the Night.  However It Was,

          It Is Certain The Greater Part Of Them Were Killed.

          There Were In the Party Two Almoners; One Of Them Was

          Killed directly And The Other Got Away To The Missouris,

          Who Took Him Prisoner, But He Escaped them Very Dexterously.

          He Had A Very Fine Horse And The Missouris Took Pleasure

          In seeing Him Ride It, Which He Did Very Skilfully.  He Took

          Advantage Of Their Curiosity To Get Out Of Their Hands.

 

 

 

          One Day As He Was Prancing and Exercising His Horse Before

          Them, He Got A Little Distance From Them Insensibly; Then

          Suddenly Clapping Spurs To His Horse He Was Soon Out Of Sight.

 

 

 

The Missouri Indians Once Occupied all The Territory Near The Junction

Of The Kaw And Missouri Rivers, But They Were Constantly Decimated

By The Continual Depredations Of Their Warlike And Feudal Enemies,

The Pawnees And Sioux, And At Last Fell A Prey To That Dreadful

Scourge, The Small-Pox, Which Swept Them Off By Thousands.

The Remnant Of The Once Powerful Tribe Then Found Shelter And A Home

With The Otoes, Finally Becoming Merged in that Tribe.

Chapter I (Under The Spaniards)

The Santa Fe Of The Purely Mexican Occupation, Long Before The Days

Of New Mexico'S Acquisition By The United states, And The Santa Fe Of

To-Day Are So Widely In contrast That It Is Difficult To Find Language

In Which To Convey To The Reader The Story Of The Phenomenal Change.

To Those Who Are Acquainted with The Charming Place As It Is Now,

With Its Refined and Cultured society, I Cannot Do Better, Perhaps,

In Attempting To Show What It Was Under The Old Regime, Than To Quote

What Some Traveller In the Early 30'S Wrote For A New York Leading

Newspaper, In regard To It.  As Far As My Own Observation Of The

Place Is Concerned, When I First Visited it A Great Many Years Ago,

The Writer Of The Communication Whose Views I Now Present Was Not

Incorrect In his Judgment.  He Said:--

 

 

 

          To Dignify Such A Collection Of Mud Hovels With The Name

          Of "City," Would Be A Keen Irony; Not Greater, However,

          Than Is The Name With Which Its Padres Have Baptized it.

          To Call A Place With Its Moral Character, A Very Sodom

          In iniquity, "Holy Faith," Is Scarcely A Venial Sin;

          It Deserves Purgatory At Least.  Its Health Is The Best

          In the Country, Which Is The First, Second And Third

          Recommendation Of New Mexico By Its Greatest Admirers.

          It Is A Small Town Of About Two Thousand Inhabitants,

          Crowded up Against The Mountains, At The End Of A Little

          Valley Through Which Runs A Mountain Stream Of The Same

          Name Tributary To The Rio Grande.  It Has A Public Square

          In the Centre, A Palace And An Alameda; As All Spanish

          Roman Catholic Towns Have.  It Is True Its Plaza, Or

          Public Square, Is Unfenced and Uncared for, Without Trees

          Or Grass.  The Palace Is Nothing More Than The Biggest

          Mud-House In the Town, And The Churches, Too, Are Unsightly

          Piles Of The Same Material, And The Alameda[5] Is On Top Of

          A Sand Hill.  Yet They Have In santa Fe All The Parts And

          Parcels Of A Regal City And A Bishopric.  The Bishop Has A

          Palace Also; The Only Two-Storied shingle-Roofed house In

          The Place.  There Is One Public House Set Apart For Eating,

          Drinking and Gambling; For Be It Known That Gambling Is Here

          Authorized by Law.  Hence It Is As Respectable To Keep A

          Gambling House, As It Is To Sell Rum In new Jersey; It Is

          A Lawful Business, And Being Lawful, And Consequently

          Respectable And A Man'S Right, Why Should Not Men Gamble?

          And Gamble They Do.  The Generals And The Colonels And

          The Majors And The Captains Gamble.  The Judges And The

          Lawyers And The Doctors And The Priests Gamble; And There

          Are Gentlemen Gamblers By Profession!  You Will See Squads

          Of Poor Peons Daily, Men, Women And Boys, Sitting On The

          Ground Around A Deck Of Cards In the Public Square, Gambling

          For The Smallest Stakes.

 

 

 

          The Stores Of The Town Generally Front On The Public Square.

          Of These There Are A Dozen, More Or Less, Of Respectable

          Size, And Most Of Them Are Kept By Others Than Mexicans.

          The Business Of The Place Is Considerable, Many Of The

          Merchants Here Being Wholesale Dealers For The Vast

          Territory Tributary.  It Is Supposed that About $750,000

          Worth Of Goods Will Be Brought To This Place This Year, And

          There May Be $250,000 Worth Imported directly From The

          United states.

 

 

 

          In the Money Market There Is Nothing Less Than A Five-Cent

          Piece.  You Cannot Purchase Anything For Less Than Five Cents.

          In trade They Reckon Ten Cents The Eighth Of A Dollar.

          If You Purchase Nominally A Dollar'S Worth Of An Article,

          You Can Pay For It In eight Ten-Cent Pieces; And If You

          Give A Dollar, You Receive No Change.  In changing a Dollar

          For You, You Would Get But Eight Ten-Cent Pieces For It.

 

 

 

          Yet, Although Dirty And Unkempt, And Swarming With Hungry

          Dogs, It Has The Charm Of Foreign Flavour, And Like

          San Antonio Retains Some Portion Of The Grace Which Long

          Lingered about It, If Indeed it Ever Forsakes The Spot

          Where Spain Held Rule For Centuries, And The Soft Syllables

          Of The Spanish Language Are Yet Heard.

 

 

 

Such Was A Description Of The "Drowsy Old Town" Of Santa Fe,

Sixty-Five Years Ago.  Fifteen Years Later Major W. H. Emory, Of

The United states Army, Writes Of It As Follows:[6]

 

 

 

          The Population Of Santa Fe Is From Two To Four Thousand,

          And The Inhabitants Are, It Is Said, The Poorest People

          Of Any Town In the Province.  The Houses Are Mud Bricks,

          In the Spanish Style, Generally Of One Story, And Built

          On A Square.  The Interior Of The Square Is An Open Court,

          And The Principal Rooms Open Into It.  They Are Forbidding

          In appearance From The Outside, But Nothing Can Exceed

          The Comfort And Convenience Of The Interior.  The Thick

          Walls Make Them Cool In summer And Warm In winter.

 

 

 

          The Better Class Of People Are Provided with Excellent Beds,

          But The Poorer Class Sleep On Untanned skins.  The Women

          Here, As In many Other Parts Of The World, Appear To Be

          Much Before The Men In refinements, Intelligence, And

          Knowledge Of The Useful Arts.  The Higher Class Dress Like

          The American Women, Except, Instead Of A Bonnet, They Wear

          A Scarf Over Their Head, Called a Reboso.  This They Wear

          Asleep Or Awake, In the House Or Abroad.  The Dress Of The

          Lower Classes Of Women Is A Simple Petticoat, With Arms And

          Shoulders Bare, Except What May Chance To Be Covered by

          The Reboso.

 

 

 

          The Men Who Have Means To Do So Dress After Our Fashion;

          But By Far The Greater Number, When They Dress At All,

          Wear Leather Breeches, Tight Around The Hips And Open From

          The Knee Down; Shirt And Blanket Take The Place Of Our

          Coat And Vest.

 

 

 

          The City Is Dependent On The Distant Hills For Wood, And

          At All Hours Of The Day May Be Seen Jackasses Passing Laden

          With Wood, Which Is Sold At Two Bits, Twenty-Five Cents,

          The Load.  These Are The Most Diminutive Animals, And

          Usually Mounted from Behind, After The Fashion Of Leap-Frog.

          The Jackass Is The Only Animal That Can Be Subsisted in

          This Barren Neighbourhood Without Great Expense; Our Horses

          Are All Sent To A Distance Of Twelve, Fifteen, And Thirty

          Miles For Grass.

 

 

 

I Have Interpolated these Two Somewhat Similar Descriptions Of

Santa Fe Written In that Long Ago When New Mexico Was Almost As

Little Known As The Topography Of The Planet Mars, So That The

Intelligent Visitor Of To-Day May Appreciate The Wonderful Changes

Which American Thrift, And That Powerful Civilizer, The Locomotive,

Have Wrought In a Very Few Years, Yet It Still, As One Of The

Foregoing Writers Has Well Said, "Has The Charm Of Foreign Flavour,

And The Soft Syllables Of The Spanish Language Are Still Heard."

 

 

 

The Most Positive Exception Must Be Taken To The Statement Of The

First-Quoted writer In relation To The Palace, Of Which He Says

"It Is Nothing More Than The Biggest Mud-House In the Town."

Now This "Palacio Del Gobernador," As The Old Building Was Called

By The Spanish, Was Erected at A Very Early Day.  It Was The

Long-Established seat Of Power When Penalosa Confined the Chief

Inquisitor Within Its Walls In 1663, And When The Pueblo Authorities

Took Possession Of It As The Citadel Of Their Central Authority,

In 1681.

 

 

 

The Old Building Cannot Well Be Overlooked by The Most Careless

Visitor To The Quaint Town; It Is A Long, Low Structure, Taking Up

The Greater Part Of One Side Of The Plaza, Round Which Runs A

Colonnade Supported by Pillars Of Rough Pine.  In this Once Leaky

Old Palace Were Kept, Or Rather Neglected, The Archives Of The

Territory Until The American Residents, Appreciating The Importance

Of Preserving Precious Documents Containing So Much Of Interest

To The Student Of History And The Antiquarian, Enlisted themselves

Enthusiastically In the Good Cause, And Have Rescued from Oblivion

The Annals Of A Relatively Remote Civilization, Which, But For Their

Forethought, Would Have Perished from The Face Of The Earth As

Completely As Have The Written Records Of That Wonderful Region In

Central America, Whose Gigantic Ruins Alone Remain To Tell Us Of

What Was A Highly Cultured order Of Architecture In past Ages,

And Of A People Whose Intelligence Was Comparable To The Style

Of The Dwellings In which They Lived.

 

 

 

The Old Adobe Palace Is In itself A Volume Whose Pages Are Filled

With Pathos And Stirring Events.  It Has Been The Scene And Witness

Of Incidents The Recital Of Which Would To Us To-Day Seem Incredible.

An Old Friend, Once Governor Of New Mexico And Now Dead, Thus

Graphically Spoke Of The Venerable Building:[7]

 

 

 

          In it Lived and Ruled the Spanish Captain General, So Remote

          And Inaccessible From The Viceroyalty At Mexico That He Was

          In effect A King, Nominally Accountable To The Viceroy,

          But Practically Beyond His Reach And Control And Wholly

          Irresponsible To The People.  Equally Independent For The

          Same Reason Were The Mexican Governors.  Here Met All The

          Provincial, Territorial, Departmental, And Other Legislative

          Bodies That Have Ever Assembled at The Capital Of New Mexico.

          Here Have Been Planned all The Indian Wars And Measures

          For Defence

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