Three years after the Great Rebellion, Henry still drifted. There was nothing behind him in Georgia and nothing further west than San Francisco. Not that he wanted to go there. The California gold fields were played out.
But he needed to get out of Denver. A man could stand town life only so long and he’d been here three months. The Colorado gold fields were collasping, anyway. Played out before he even got here.
“Been too late since the day I was born,” he muttered, putting his whisky glass on the long wooden bar.
“I hear tell there’s gold in Elizabethtown,” the bartender said. He reached for Henry’s glass and began wiping it out. He knew Henry’s pockets were empty.
“New Mexico Territory. Near Taos somewheres.”
Henry nodded and pushed himself away from the bar. “Elizabethtown,” he repeated as he hitched up his trousers. “Now there’s an idea.”
Judge Palen flattened his palms against the rough wooden table that served as the Court bench and scowled at Sheriff Calhoun. “Are you telling me that you called twenty-one men for jury duty and only seven showed up?”
Calhoun was a big man, but he fingered the broad-brimmed hat in his hands like a schoolboy. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, go get fourteen more.”
The Sheriff nodded, turned, and crossed the creaking wooden floor.
Palen turned his attention to his seven potential jury members. “All right,” he said. “Now how many of you are going to have good excuses for not fulfilling your civic duty?”
Three of them sheepishly raised their hands. Palen nodded to his court clerk to begin taking their excuses and closed his eyes. And he’d thought this appointment as Chief Justice of New Mexico Territory and Judge of its First Judicial District was a logical step up from postmaster of Hudson, New York. He suppressed a sigh. How he missed the broad sweep of the river, the bustle of the town’s port. He grimaced and opened his eyes. Only four jurymen left. Damn this town, anyway. The whole of New Mexico Territory, for that matter.
On Sunday, July 31, 1825, Taos-based physician Rowland Willard had been in Taos since July 2 and the village had received no rain in the past month. The doctor was disappointed.
The New York born Willard had apparently expected to find not only rain but a prosperous community that could afford American fees and make him rich. He was destined to be disappointed on both counts.
Although Doctor Willard had a number of clients in Taos and as far south as Santa Cruz de la Canada, payment for services in the 1820s tended to be in goods rather than in cash. By September, it was clear that Taos was not the land of opportunity he had sought. On September 15, he headed south, to try his luck in Chihuahua.
The move paid off. Willard developed a successful practice in Chihuahua and remained there for the next two years, where he invested in the Santa Rita copper mines as well as his medical practice.
In 1828 Willard decided to return to the United States. To be eligible to leave the country, Mexican law required a 2% duty payment. The good Doctor paid $80 on the $4000 he declared, but actually left Mexico with $7000 in cash and his “outfit.”
Clearly, trappers were not the only Americans who believed they didn’t need to comply with Mexico’s duty laws.
Source: Julie L. Poole ed., Over The Santa Fe Trail To Mexico, The Travel Diaries And Autobiography Of Dr. Rowland Willard, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman 2015
“It’s June now,” Suzanna said. “These are the Sangre de Christo mountains. It’ll be cold up here, come winter.”
“Come January,” Gerald conceded. “Though snow will make for green summer cattle pastures.”
“Grass will bring game and cougars. Cougars prefer cattle to game.”
“No more than anywhere else.”
“And the Utes will want to know why we’re in their hunting grounds.”
“There’s enough for everyone.” He gestured. “And plenty of trees. You won’t have to live in adobe anymore. Besides, Taos is only a day or so away.”
“Taos is two days through a Pass that’s impassable in winter.”
Gerald studied the valley at their feet. “At the foot of this hill and a little north,” he decided. “A cabin between those two outcroppings would be well sheltered. And your garden won’t get too windblown.”
Clearly, there was no use arguing. Suzanna’s mouth tightened. “I want glass windows,” she said.
On Tuesday, July 15, 1833 Padre Antonio José Martinez began offering seminary preparation as part of the educational services he had been providing to students in Taos since 1826. He began with four students and because he had no seminary-level texts other than his own, each man used Martinez’s books to copy out his own. Three more seminarians were added in November.
They learned quickly. By August of the following year, Juan Jesus Trujillo, Eulogio Valdez, and Mariano de Jesus Lucero were on their way to Durango to complete their education. Trujillo and Valdez were ordained early in 1836 and returned to become pastor at Santa Cruz and Abiquiu, respectively. After Lucero’s October 1836 ordination, he also returned to New Mexico, in his case to assist Martinez in Taos. Between 1833 and 1845, Martinez prepared as many as 18 men for the priesthood.
While this appears to be the first seminary in New Mexico, Martinez’s educational establishment was not the first school in Taos. Although there was apparently no formal schooling offered they are when Martinez’s family arrived in 1804, by 1819 — 15 years later — Fray Sebastian Alvarez had organized a school taught by a hired schoolmaster.
Martinez’s efforts carried on this work, which enabled young men without the resources he possessed to obtain an education. In his own case, Martinez’s education had commenced at age 5 under the tutelage of Don Geronimo Becerra, while his family still lived in Abiquiu, and where he is said to have begun his study of English.
Teaching the seminarians may have also been helpful to Martinez, who during this period is reported to have been reviewing his theological coursework in preparation for the Durango Sinnott of 1840, where he hoped to be appointed permanent pastor, or curio propia, at Taos. To be appointed to this post, a priest was required to pass a competitive series of exams.
Source: Fray Angelico Chavez, But Time And Chance, TheStory Of Padre Martinez Of Taos, 1793 To 1867. Sunstone Press, Santa Fe, 1981
They climbed a small hill near the headwaters of the Cimarron River to get a better view. The long narrow valley spread out below them. It was a couple miles wide and probably twelve long. The land slanting toward them was mostly grass. Small creeks meandered across it, creating dark indentations. Pine and fir hugged the banks, spreading out occasionally to absorb moisture from a sloughy spot. The streams met in a marshy area just below where Gerald and Suzanna stood, then drained into the small river that flowed eastward through the rocky canyon.
Suzanna studied the valley warily as Gerald plucked a piece of grass from the hillside. He examined it, then bit into the fleshy end and chewed carefully.
He spit it out. “Sweet,” he said approvingly. He gestured at the view below. “It has everything we could want,” he told his wife. “Water, feed, game, timber.”
On Monday, July 1, 1850, the populace of occupied nuevomexico voted overwhelmingly to enter the United States as a state rather than a territory. The Mexican departamento of New Mexico had been seized by the U.S. in 1846 during the Mexican/American war. In the July 1850 referendum, the New Mexico also reaffirmed it’s 1848 decision to not allow slavery in New Mexico, and identified state officers and national representatives to Congress.
However, New Mexico’s decision to request U.S. statehood was nullified before it reached Washington DC. While the new congressional delegation was in route to the capital, news of the compromise of 1850 arrived in New Mexico.
More focused on settling the national slavery question than fulfilling New Mexico’s request, the Compromise admitted California as a free slave state and ignored the results of the July election. Instead, Congress made Utah and New Mexico territories where slavery was allowed. This decision was influenced by Texans who wanted to incorporate New Mexico into Texas, which was a slave state.
The boundary between Texas and Mexico was still amorphous, with Texas claiming land to the east bank of the Rio Grande River. In exchange for relinquishing its claim to eastern New Mexico, Congress gave Texas $10 million. To further keep Texas happy, New Mexico would be neither slave nor free. It and Utah territory would have to vote for or against slavery when they applied for statehood.
If New Mexico had entered the union as a state in 1850, it’s almost certain that it was entered as a non-slave state, dramatically altering the balance between slave and free and potentially catapulting the country into the war that would come just over a decade later.
However, by the time New Mexico did become a state, the slavery issue became a moot point, since New Mexico . It would not do so until 1912. Instead, the Congressionally-established New Mexico Territory government took over in Spring 1851. 20 years would pass before another constitutional convention was called and 66 years would go by before New Mexico would shake off its territorial status and officially become one of the United States.
Sources: Thomas C. Donnelly, The Government Of New Mexico, U of NM Press, Albuquerque, 1953; Bruce Glassrud, African-American History In New Mexico, U of NM Press, Albuquerque, 2013; Calvin A and Susan A Roberts, New Mexico, U of NM Press, Albuquerque, 1988; Hal Stratton and Paul Farley, History, Powers, Responsibility, Office Of The Attorney General, State Of New Mexico, State of New Mexico, 1990