LUMMIS HAS REFERRED TO NEW MEXICO as “The Land of Poco Tiempo.” It might well be termed, “The Land of Santos.”
Whenever and wherever the Spaniard established a set tlement, invariably he placed it under special protection of one of the saints of the church. Before he had a roof over his head, he had broken ground for a church dedicated to the patron saint of the community. The church was never complete without its santo its image—carved or painted—of the special protector of the community. This same custom was followed in the Indian pueblos the Spaniard found in New Mexico. This one was dedicated to Santo Domingo, that one to Santa Ana, another to San Felipe, and so on.
If a convention were called of the towns of New Mexico of Spanish origin, the roll call would sound like the chanting of the litany of saints. Thus, we have La Villa Real de la Santa Fe de San Francisco, La Villa de San Felipe de Alburquerque, San Fernando de Taos, San José de Chama. Among the Indian villages we have San Agustin de Isleta, Nuestra Señora de los Angeles de Pecos, and San Francisco de Nambe. In New Mexico, land grants were named for saints: La Merced de Nuestra Señora del Rosario, San Francisco y Santiago. Rivers and mountain ranges were dedicated to the saints of God, as El Rio del Espiritu Santo and La Sierra de San Mateo.
In a special report made in 1793 to the Viceroy of Mexico by D. Pedro Acuna, Conde de Revilla Gigego, we find a list of the towns and missions of New Mexico. The thirty-one saints to whom the destinies of these towns and missions were entrusted may well be regarded as the patron saints of New Mexico; these together with San Gabriel to whom was entrusted the care and guidance of the first settlement made by Don Juan de Oñate in 1599. The list follows: San Francisco de Santa Fe, Nuestra Señora de las Angeles de Pecos, Santa Cruz de Galisteo, San Diego de Tesuque, San Francisco de Pojuaqe, San Francisco de Nambe, San Ildefonso, Santa Cruz de la Canada, San Lorenzo de Picuris, San Jeronimo de Taos, San Buenaventura de Cochos, San Felipe, Santa Ana, Nuestra Señora de la Asunción de Zia, San Diego de Jemez, San Jose de la Laguna, San Esteban de Acoma, Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de Zuni, Nuestra Señora de las Dolores de Sandia, San Felipe de Alburquerque, Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe de Paso del Norte, San Lorenzo del Realito, Corpus Cristi de Isleta, San Antonio de Senecú, Nuestra Señora del Socorro and San Tomás de Abiquiu.
In New Mexico the santo was an institution—an integral part of the everyday life of the New Mexican. In time of danger, it was the santo who was appealed to. I recall having witnessed in an isolated mountain village in northern New Mexico an incident which is typical. A forest fire raged on the mountain side. A lone farm house was directly in its path so that the least change in the wind would envelop house and barns in flames. The owner and his family were in the patio with their santos praying and directing attention of the santo to the imminent danger, that he might protect their home. Anyone who has lived any length of time in New Mexico has witnessed processions in which the santo was carried through the fields, followed by a devout, reverent group, firm in their faith that their prayers will be answered, and the crops saved from threatened drouth. The feast day of the santo was and still is celebrated with enthusiasm. The fiesta was begun with religious services, mass, a sermon and procession in which the santo was carried through the village on the parijuela, with music, prayers and chanting of litanies interrupted now and then by the fire of ancient muskets, caramplones. Then came the festivities. It was a gala day and the caballeros and señoritas and even the viejitas, attended en masse, the former in their most gorgeous attire. The latter sitting quietly in a corner, one eye exposed from under their tapalo, in Moorish fashion, missed nothing that went on. It was a day of thanksgiving, of rejoicing.
To some extent these customs still prevail. The New Mexican will travel from Socorro to Albuquerque to attend the Fiesta de San Felipe and will leave his work in the harvest fields of Colorado to be present at the Fiesta de Santiago in Tierra Amarilla or the Fiesta de San Jeronimo in Taos. The New Mexican fiesta is a tradition no less deeply rooted than the santo in whose honor it is held.
In 1817 Governor Cuervo y Valdez sent from Santa Fe some forty families to establish La Villa de Alburquerque to do honor to the then Viceroy of New Spain, Francisco Fernandez de la Cueva Enriquez) Duque de Alburquerque, to quote the extensive and euphonious name to which he answered. However, the duke was displeased,
or at least pretended he was, that this action should have been taken without royal approval. He censured Valdez, and ordered the name changed to San Felipe de Alburquerque I thus honoring his sovereign, retaining honor unto himself and placing the villa under the protection of one of the saints of the church.
Yearly, the Fiesta de San Felipe is held in the old town of Albuquerque. Following mass in the more than a century old church the image of San Felipe is carried in procession about the venerable plaza much the same, I surmise, as it has been done year after year for several centuries. The festivities, however, have changed. Nickel dances have replaced the old fashioned fandangos. Gaudy booths, with all the tawdry aspects of a street carnival, not excepting the fire eater and the bearded lady, have taken the place of the gallo races, and foot races, just the same as these probably replaced the miracle plays and Moorish and Spanish games seventy-five years or so ago.
To say which of the saints of the Catholic church was most venerated in this land of santos would indeed be a difficult task. As elsewhere throughout the Spanish wor1d the entire celestial court was honored and revered.
Were I to name the picturizations most dear and most popu1ar among New Mexicans of a century ago, without a moment’s hesitation I would first select Our Lady of Guadalupe. This picturization represents the only apparition of the mother of God on American soil. As such it has made a tremendous impression upon the Spanish-American world.
Next in order would come San Antonio whom New Mexicans refer to as “el santo de todo el mundo,” the saint who belongs to the entire world.
The Holy Child of Atocha is exceedingly popular both in Mexico and New Mexico. The origin of this picturization is not certain.
Odd S. Halseth, of the Museum of Phoenix, ascribes its origin to a picture of the Virgin and child brought to Spain by St. Luke the Apostle. In New Mexico it has taken a strong hold on the faith of the people and this picturization, in bulto, retablo or painting on tin, can be found in the majority of native homes.
Next would probably come San Isidro Labrador, patron of the farmer. Tremendously popular throughout the entire Spanish world as the special patron of the man who tills the soil, it is not surprising that in agricultural and pastoral New Mexico he is so revered.
The New Mexican had his special intercessor for every contingency: Whatever the situation in which he found himself, he had an advocate before the celestial court. To San Antonio he appealed to find lost articles; Santa Barbara was his protectress against dangers of storms and lightning; San Jose was the protector of the home and was appealed to for a happy marriage and a happy death; in business matters it was San Marcos, the former
Roman tax collector, who was appealed to; San Cristobal was the patron of the traveler; expectant mothers prayed to San Ramon Nonato. This saint, a Spanish cardinal, born in Catalonia, came into the world through a Caesarian operation, hence this special appeal to him. Young girls prayed to San Antonio for a worthy spouse; San Miguel, one of the trio of Heavenly Princes, is the leader of the armed hosts of Goel and as such the special protector in battle. San Isidro Labrador is the special patron of the farmer. Throughout the Spanish-American world it was customary to dress images. This custom existed in New Mexico. It had a twofold purpose. The first, naturally, was for adornment. Beautiful dresses and rebozos, even shoes and hats were made for the santo. Popular legend has it that the Christ child at Chimayo goes about at night and actually wears out his shoes. Whenever a favor was asked of a santo, arid the boon granted, it was customary to reward him in a material way. Often this reward took the form of new raiment. If so, the old dress was not removed. The new one was simply put on over it. Consequently, the bulkiness of a santo, resulting from the number of gowns or robes it wore, attested to its efficacy as an advocate before the Almighty. Often the reward took some other material form. In the little chapel dedicated to San Antonio in Cienega, a few miles west of Santa Fe there is a San Antonio. From as far as Albuquerque and Socorro, the faithful come to visit. Attached to the habit of San Antonio is a silver image of a sheep. This is the gift of a well-known sheep owner who, when his flock was threatened by a forest fire, appealed to San Antonio, and without disappointment.
Among faithful New Mexicans, a santo was never discarded. Once it was broken and had outlived its usefulness it was burnt. Ashes from the burnt santo were carefully gathered and kept for the Ash Wednesday ceremonies.
Whenever a certain santo gained a special reputation for his willingness to listen to the appeals of supplicants, no journey was too long or too arduous to deter the New Mexican of yesterday. In days when highways and gasoline vehicles were unknown the New Mexican would journey in ox cart, on horse, mule or burro back or on foot to the Sanctuario de Chimayo in Rio Arriba county, there to lay his petition at the feet of Nuestro Señor de Esquipula.
Other well known santos are the San Antonio at Cienega, heretofore mentioned, and the N uestra Senora del Refugio, at Taos. Traditions says that during the Pueblo Rebellion of 1848 she wept tears at the sight of her Indian wards swept down by the fire of the Americanos.
An interesting incident is quoted by Twitchell in his Leading Facts of New Mexican History, Vol. One, page 379, footnote. He gives the quotation from Jesuit papers. It seems that during the Rebellion of 1680 an Indian chieftain entered a chapel. With one blow of his macana or war club, he severed the head of an image of the Virgin. Immediately blood flowed from the wound. Deeply impressed by the miracle, one of the friars who escaped the massacre carried the image to Mexico City where it was placed in a chapel dedicated to Nuestra Señora de la Macana, Our Lady of the War Club. Akin to the apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico, this incident provides of the few purely New Mexican contributions to religious art and it is to be regretted the tradition was lost.
I am often asked, “When was this santo made? Where was it made, in Spain, in Mexico, or in New Mexico? How old is it?” I generally answer, “I do not know. It may be anywhere from seventy-five to two hundred years old. It may have been made in Spain, but it probably was not. It may have been made in Mexico. It was probably made in New Mexico.”
New Mexico santos as far as workmanship goes, are of various qualities—good ones, fair ones and terribly crude efforts at art. In New Mexico, the land of santos, every man had his santo and probably every man considered himself a santero. The era of native arts began with permanent establishment of the colonists in New Mexico about the 1700s, and continued to the coming of American influence in the middle of the 1800s. Once the Spaniard
was firmly established in New Mexico—once the memory of the mother country had somewhat dimmed—the New Mexican changed little. The New Mexican the Americano found here was essentially the same person as his fathers a century before. His customs, his dress, his arts and his crafts changed little. The grito de dolores ushering in Mexican independence was scarcely audible in this far-away province and the transition from monarchial to republican government scarcely caused a ripple on the surface New Mexico. Likewise with the santero and his santos. His methods of workmanship and his product changed little. This is why I say it makes little difference where or when these santos were made. They are the same thing.
By this statement I do not infer that the art of New Mexico equaled the art of Spain and Mexico. It did not. It developed very little if at all beyond the stage it had reached when brought here. The point I make is that New Mexico santos are exact counterparts of sixteenth century religious art brought here with the conquerors and little changed with passing years.
In my opinion most of the cruder santos we find in New Mexico were made in the latter period when the industry had begun to decline and was being abandoned. It is also my opinion that almost all the retablos were made in New Mexico.
Private collecting of santos is viewed by many persons with considerable disapproval, especially by some of the clergy, and rightly so in many instances. So many of our newly arrived desire a santo merely to fil1 a nicho and provide atmosphere in what they consider a Spanish type residence. They have no knowledge of where it came from or what it represents, and care less. Often, if not an object of mere curiosity, it is a subject of ridicule and amusement, little more important than a pagan idol or fetich.
The bona fide collector who appreciates and realizes that these santos represent the religious sentiment of a people; that they are a New World continuation of medieval art transported from across the sea centuries ago and little changed, is doing a service by helping preserve these relics of our cultural and religious history.