“Confess This Genízaro So That They May Give Him Five Bullets”1 – Slavery, Hybridity, Agency, and Indigenous Identity in New Mexico
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CHAPTER 6 “CONFESS THIS GENÍZARO SO THAT THEY MAY GIVE HIM FIVE BULLETS”1 – SLAVERY, HYBRIDITY, AGENCY, AND INDIGENOUS IDENTITY IN NEW MEXICO In 1837 a coalition of Genízaros, Pueblo Indians, Coyotes, and other mixed- blood vecinos of Northern New Mexico rose-up in rebellion against the Mexican government headed by Governor Albino Perez of Mexico City. On August 7, a party of Keres of the Pueblo de Santo Domingo, captured and beheaded Perez on the outskirts of Santa Fe as he and his supporters attempted to escape to the Rio Abajo. In Santa Fe and Northern New Mexico, rebels enjoying wide support, took control of the territory and assassinated those who collaborated with Perez. The rebels organized a provisional government called El Cantón de la Villa de Santa Cruz de la Cañada, and elected as their Governor, Jose Angel Gonzales, highly regarded and widely known for his skills as a cibolero (buffalo hunter) with familial ties to the Pueblos of Taos and Picuris, Chimayo, and Santa Cruz de la Canada. Gonzales’ mother Maria was a native of Taos Pueblo and his father, a Genízaro of Pawnee ancestry (Chavez, 1955). The revolt came to an end on January 28, 1838 as the rebels were overtaken near Pojoaque by troops, including 150 Veracruz dragoons that had been stationed in Zacatecas, and local militia from the Rio Abajo, under the direction of former Governor Manuel Armijo, a mixed-blood of Tewa and Mexican Indian ancestry, who shortly thereafter was re-appointed Governor by Mexican President Santa Ana (Baxter, 1978, p. 220; Chavez, 1979, p. 243). Among the rebel leaders who lost their lives that day were Governor Jose Angel Gonzales referred to above, and Antonio “El Coyote” Vigil, of the village of Truchas (Wroth, n.d.). Nine years later, on January 14, 1847, the same coalition of villagers again rose in rebellion against the United States invaders who had occupied their territory only a year earlier. In the town of Taos, Charles Bent the newly appointed Territorial Governor and former fur trader, was scalped and killed. Moreover, Americanos as well as native collaborators across northern New Mexico from to Mora to Arroyo Hondo (Questa) were assassinated, including fur trappers, and a distillery owner and his crew (McNierney, 103 CHAPTER 6 1980). On February 3, Colonel Sterling Price led a troop of United States soldiers, stationed in Santa Fe, north to confront the rebels. Overcoming stiff resistance at Santa Cruz and Embudo, they marched into the Taos valley where the New Mexican patriots put up their final stand against the invaders. After a siege around the Pueblo of Taos, United States troops bombarded the rebels who had retreated into the Catholic Church where over one-hundred and fifty patriots were killed in defense of their homeland (McNierney, 1980; Crutchfield, 1995). This marked the beginning of the end of a widespread organized military resistance to the United States invasion and occupation. From the Pueblo Revolt of 1680 to those of 1837 and 1847, Indigenous peoples of New Mexico, of various classes and ethnicities, demonstrated great unity and heroism as they defended and promoted their interests in the face of perceived injustices, and intrusions by colonizing forces into their homeland. This essay, explores the complex formation of hybrid identities and the manifestations of agency preceding the rebellions of 1837 and 1847. THE NIGHTMARE OF CAPTIVITY As a young boy, I had a terrifying and recurring nightmare. I was trapped inside of an old, dilapidated shell of an ancient adobe house. The partially collapsed roof allowed a few rays of sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark interior. Some of the vigas (beams) were leaning on the outer walls and resting on the other end on mounds of weathered corpses of adobes after centuries of being worked over by the elements. The house had six rooms laid out in two parallel rows of three with each room having a door to the adjacent one. I was being chased by two women of chestnut hued complexion, wearing red bandanas with a white paisley design, tied in the same peculiar way as some of the elder women in my community. The bandana was formed into a large triangle and the two bottom corners were tied in back and under their braids. The third and middle corner of the triangle covered the top of their heads and pointed in a backward direction. Both had some missing teeth, small piercing eyes set close together, and prominent eagle shaped noses. They stalked me with a relentless energy and a menacing laugh. With one close behind, I would escape into the next room only to find the other there, waiting, laughing. Just when I exhausted all avenues of escape, frozen in terror, my heart pounding, in a cold sweat, I would transport into the foggy space between the dream and wake worlds, slowly realizing I had once again 104.