Tag: new mexico

The Takeover of New Mexico

The Takeover of New Mexico

Preparations for war were in full swing in Santa Fe that second week of August, 1846. Rumors of the approaching American army under Stephen Watts Kearny had been swirling all summer and became more concrete as time went on. New Mexico’s governor, Manuel Armijo, had fired letters off to the officials in Mexico City pleading for help and warning of the possibility that his paisanos would capitulate to the invaders without a fight.

Early in August, American trader Eugene Leitensdorfer arrived in Santa Fe with news. The U.S. Army was at Bent’s Fort. Armijo consulted with his council on Sunday, August 9, then sent out a call to New Mexico’s militia to assemble in Santa Fe. When they arrived, they headed for Apache Pass, east of the city, where they began digging trenches, throwing up barricades, and positioning cannon in. Things in Santa Fe were so tense that some of the American merchants there barricaded themselves in a store on the plaza, expecting to be arrested or even killed when the fighting began.

In the meantime, U.S. Army Capt. Philip St George Cooke and James Magoffin arrived in town on Wednesday, August 12. They carried a letter from Kearny and, rumor has it, a considerable amount of gold. They also brought news. Kearny’s army was not at Bent’s Fort any longer. It was already on New Mexican soil. In fact, Cooke was due to meet up with them at Las Vegas in the next couple days.

Philip St. George Cooke, circa 1860s. Courtesy of encyclopediavirginia.org

By the time that happened, on Saturday, August 15, it was clear to New Mexican officials that Governor Armijo was no longer anxious to defend the region from the invaders. He had gone from firing off letters, issuing bellicose proclamations, marshaling troops, and positioning cannon, to asking his officers whether he should really try to fight. When several of them said a vehement “yes!”, Armijo began complaining that the defenses he’d thrown up weren’t strong enough and that the men behind them were cowards who would run at the first shot.

Manuel Armijo, wearing the medal he’d received for his capture of the 1841 Texas Expedition to Santa Fe

Maybe word of Kearny’s takeover of Las Vegas and the number of U.S. troops had reached Armijo and he’d given up the idea of fighting. Or maybe he’d made his decision the night of August 12, during his conversation with Cooke and Magoffin. The only thing certain is that by the end of August 16th, the last Mexican governor of New Mexico had headed south toward Albuquerque and ultimately the interior of Mexico.

When Kearny and his men reached Apache Pass, they found it empty, although at least one of his officers thought the location could have been used effectively to at least slow them down.

But by then it was too late. The U.S. Army was in control of New Mexico and would quickly set up a new government to replace the old. All that excitement and fear had been for nothing. The New Mexicans had been completely cowed by America’s military might. Or so it seemed.

© Loretta Miles Tollefson

Sources: William A. Kelleher, Turmoil in New Mexico, 1846-1868; Marc Simmons, New Mexico; Howard R. Lamar, The Far Southwest; Ralph Emerson Twitchell, The Military Occupation of New Mexico.

Billy the Kid: The Life Behind the Legend

Billy the Kid: The Life Behind the Legend

I recently did a quick tally of currently available nonfiction books about Billy the Kid and gave up at twenty-five. I’m sure there are more. However, if you want a clear grip on who Billy the Kid was, where he came from, and the events in his life, George R. Matthews’ recently published book Billy the Kid: The Life Behind the Legend may be the only tome you need.

This book is well researched and superbly written and provides a comprehensive approach to the life and times of William Bonney, aka “The Kid.” Matthews has taken the time to gather information not only about the Kid’s career, but also about his background. I especially appreciated the material about Ireland in his mother’s day and her experiences when she reached the U.S.

Matthews also provides information about the various people Bonney interacted with during his short life, while not bogging down the narrative with endless side notes. He inserts enough background for these individuals to give us context and flesh out their personalities, but maintains his focus on the Kid and his various adventures and misadventures.

I was impressed with this book and recommend it as the one resource for people who are mildly interested in Billy the Kids’ life and as an important addition to the collections of those who are more passionate about learning all you can about him. In my opinion, Billy the Kid: The Life Behind the Legend is a valuable addition to either type of library.

A Pretty Little House

A Pretty Little House

When Stephen W. Kearny’s Army of the West marched from Missouri to New Mexico in Summer 1846, they were trailed by a number of non-military wagons, most of them driven by merchants. One of these men was Samuel Magoffin, who brought along his wife of seven months, Susan Shelby Magoffin.

Once they reached Santa Fe, the Magoffins rented an adobe house that Susan called “quite a nice little place” with four rooms that included the kitchen, “our own chamber, [a] storage room, and the reception room,” or sala,  which Susan described as a combination parlor, dining room, and “room of all work.”

She also said the house entrance opened into a courtyard with portals all around, so apparently this was the typical four-sided square with doors opening into a plazuela. The portals around this space provided shaded workspaces as well as areas for resting and relaxing.

The Magoffins’ reception room was long and narrow, typical of a sala, and had a dirt floor, plank ceiling, and white-washed walls. The lower part of the walls was covered with calico cloth, which protected the occupants from getting whitewash on their clothes. The parlor end of the room contained cushioned benches and woven black-and-white“Mexican carpeting,” probably jerga. The “naked floor” at the end of the room held a dining table and chairs.

Susan described the bedroom as “a nice cool little room, with two windows, which we can darken, or make light at pleasure.” I take this to mean the windows had shutters which could be opened and shut from inside. She doesn’t say whether the windows had glass in them. Glazed windows were pretty rare in New Mexico at the time, though it seems likely that a Kentucky-bred young woman would have been startled by the lack of them and mentioned her surprise. The fact that the house ceilings were plank, not perpendicular or herring-bone pattern latillas, indicates the building may have been constructed with American sensibilities in mind. If that’s the case, there very well might have been glass in the window openings.

A latilla ceiling, still seen in New Mexico homes. Photo courtesy of OlquinsSawmill.com

The flat roof did leak at one point. On Tuesday, September 22, Kearney and a couple officers had come for a visit and were about to leave when a thunderstorm hit. Rather than brave the storm, the visitors remained in their seats and “we continued in pleasant and merry chat,” Susan reports, “when suddenly the rain came pating onto the General, from the ceiling … Soon we were leaking all around, the mud roof coming with the water.” The damage must have not been too terrible. Young Mrs. Magoffin was out and about with the General the next day, taking a tour of Fort Marcy.

The little house would be Susan’s home for another couple weeks, until the Magoffins headed south on October 7, leaving the “nice little place” behind. Susan would not live anywhere for long, until 1852, when she and Samuel settled in Kirkwood, Missouri, where she died after giving birth to her third child.  

            © Loretta Miles Tollefson, June 2025

Sources: Audra Bellmore, Old Santa Fe Today; Bainbridge Bunting, Early Architecture in New Mexico; Sheila Drumm, editor, Down the Santa Fe Trail and Into Mexico, Diary of Susan Shelby Magoffin, 1846-1847; John E. Sunder, ed., Matt Field on the Santa Fe Trail; El Rancho de los Golondrinas Guidebook; Chimayo Museum, Chimayo, New Mexico.

The Evolution of the Santa Fe Plaza

The Evolution of the Santa Fe Plaza

When the Spanish settlers created the Santa Fe, New Mexico plaza in 1610, it was roughly twice the size it is today, even though they didn’t have sufficient buildings to surround it. That would come later. Certainly the newcomers had high ambitions for their new town “square.” We can see from the map created by José de Urrutia about 150 years later that it extended from the church (la parroquia) to about where the western boundary is today.

The plaza was laid out in an approximate ratio of 2 to 3, width to length, as prescribed in Spanish law. It had a number of uses—military drills, mustering livestock, small-scale trading, and general commerce, as well as social and public events. Although there’s no sign of it on the 1776 map, in the early 1600’s an acequia ran along the north side.

The acequia may have been used to water trees in the plaza. We have written documentation of at least two plantings, one prior to 1837, when Jose Francisco Perea tells us there were three cottonwoods “of the mountain variety” in what was then the northeast corner. In the mid-1840s, Governor Mariano Martinez had more cottonwoods put in, although we don’t know what type. By the time he was done, trees circled the square and additional ones had been placed along the Santa Fe river.

The square had shrunk considerably by then, to the size it is today. The 1846 map created by U.S. Corps of Engineers Lts. W.H. Emory and J.F. Gilmer reveals that the eastern half of the plaza had been filled in with buildings by that point. It had apparently been this shape for at least the last ten years. Jose Francisco Perea tells us it hadn’t changed much during that period, except for the new trees. And the fact that the square was now seldom used as a camping place and stock corral.

According to James Josiah Webb, in the 1840s the northeast corner of the plaza contained the old Mexican customs warehouse. The eastern side of the square was lined with government buildings and anchored at the southern end by a store run by Don Juan Sena.

The Pino family lived across the street, on the south side of the plaza, alongside a couple more stores, including the one rented by Leitensdorfer and Company. The crumbling adobe military chapel lay in the center of this row of buildings.

The west side of the plaza was nearly all residences, except for the old Mexican post office, and the north side was defined, as it is today, by the long low adobe structure that had been there since the beginning. The compound it fronted had served over the years as a fort, barracks for the Presidio troops, local jail, housing for the civil governor, treasury, and other functions.

Known as “el palacio” by the locals, the Americans retained the building’s basic functions after they invaded in 1846. By 1857, it included the chamber for the territorial legislature, offices for the Secretary of the Treasury and Superintendent of Indian Affairs, the post office, and (still!) the calabozo, or jail.

The building, which is still called “el palacio,” has been renovated a number of times, most recently a few years ago, and now anchors the New Mexico History Museum. It’s well worth a visit if you happen to be in town. As is the plaza. It changed once again in the 1860s, when a bandstand was added, along with walkways that crisscrossed the space. This layout has been retained ever since then. You can see it in the birds-eye view map from 1882 as well as the current map.

As you can see from the map, the plaza in Santa Fe is still walkable. Trees still shade the paths, and there are still small-scale traders, most often now only under the palacio house portal. It’s the perfect place to spend a few hours on Sunday afternoon or any other time.

Sources: W.H.H. Allison, “Santa Fe During the Winter of 1837-38,” Old Santa Fe Magazine, Vol.3;Josh Gonza, The Streets of Santa Fe, A Walking Tour; Deena J. Gonzales, Refusing the Favor; David Grant Noble, ed., Santa Fe, history of an ancient city; Maurilio E. Vigil and Helen Boudreau, Donaciano Vigil; Paul W. Walter, “The First Civil Governor of New Mexico Under the Stars and Stripes,” New Mexico Historical Review, Vol. 8:2; James Josiah Webb, Adventures in the Santa Fe Trade.

©Loretta Miles Tollefson

The Lone Star of Texas in Mexico

The Lone Star of Texas in Mexico

Shortly after American troops invaded New Mexico in Autumn 1846, they discovered four pieces of Mexican artillery in a village south of Santa Fe. Apparently, Governor Manuel Armijo had taken the guns with him when he fled, but abandoned them at Galisteo. One of these pieces was of special interest to the Americans because it had arrived in New Mexico by way of Texas.

The cannon, made in Springfield, MA, had accompanied the ill-fated 1841 Texan expedition to New Mexico. A brass six pounder, it had been cast with a Texas star on its breach and paid for by “patriotic ladies” of the newly formed republic. When the Texans straggled into eastern New Mexico in Fall 1841, they still had the gun with them, despite its weight and their exhaustion.

New Mexico Governor Manuel Armijo confiscated the cannon, of course, and reportedly displayed it in the Santa Fe plaza after he sent the captured Texans on to Mexico City. It was still there in 1846, when it and other artillery pieces were transferred to Apache Pass during the runup to the impeding American invasion.

When Armijo decided to flee instead of fight, he took the Texan gun and other artillery with him. Three of the gun carriages apparently broke down at Galisteo, and the governor was forced to abandon them as well as the weapons they carried. This included the Texan six-pounder, which the American troops dubbed the “Lone Star of Texas.”

Six pound cannon from the 1840-1860s period. Courtesy: U.S. Library of Congress

They transported the gun back to Santa Fe, where it was apparently once again placed on the plaza. Lt. Richard Smith Elliott says it was used in early November to assemble the officers for training drill.

We have no official record of the Texas cannon again until Brigadier General Sterling Price took it with him to Chihuahua.  There, it saw action at Santa Cruz de Rosales, the last battle of the Mexican war, on March 16, 1848.

However, there is a possibility that this was not the first battle in which the Texan cannon was fired. A six-pound cannon played a conclusive role in the February 1847 battle at Taos Pueblo, when it was used to breach the walls of the church where the insurrectos were holed up. This gun may well have been the Lone Star.

After the battle at Santa Cruz de Rosales, the Texan cannon was returned to Santa Fe, where it was stored alongside other Mexican artillery pieces in La Castrense, the old military church on the south side of the plaza. It and the other guns were presumably cleared out when the Americans decided to use the building as a courtroom. What happened to it after that remains a mystery.

Sources: Mark L. Gardner and Marc Simmons, Eds., The Mexican War Correspondence of Richard Smith Elliott; Silver City New Mexico Enterprise, October 9th 1891, courtesy Silver City Library.

© Loretta Miles Tollefson

Not As Simple As They Look

Not As Simple As They Look

If you’ve been fortunate enough to tour an adobe home here in New Mexico, you may have noticed the corner fireplaces which are a signature element in these houses.

Often built in a corner, the traditional fireplace, or fogón, had a low hearth, between six and eight inches high. The structure was usually roughly a quarter round with a narrow opening of about twenty inches. The firebox was relatively shallow. In fact, the wood was usually placed upright and leaned against the back of the space, instead of flat on the hearth.

Corner fireplace. Source: Bainbridge Bunting, Early Architecture in New Mexico

If one fireplace couldn’t warm the room sufficiently or wasn’t large enough to cook a meal for the entire family, there were several options. One was to build another cooking area in the opposite corner. Another was to build a larger bell-shaped one, up to four feet, four inches wide, that could accommodate more wood. A third alternative, especially useful when there was more than one cook, was to construct a double-arched bell-shaped structure.

Double arched fireplace. Source: Bainbridge Bunting, Of Earth and Timber Made

In every case, the arched opening was constructed using two large specially shaped adobe bricks. The chimney was usually a rectangular cuboid roughly 10 x 10 inches in diameter and made of thin adobe bricks set on edge with their ends fit into channels cut into the supporting walls

Not all adobe fireplaces were placed in the corner of a room. If a heat source was needed elsewhere, a “spur” of adobe would be extended out from the wall in the desired location and then a fireplace was constructed in the resulting corner.

As the Americans began to pour into New Mexico after 1846, they began remaking the traditional adobe houses to meet their Eastern expectations. This included encasing the adobe fireplaces with wooden chimney breasts and mantel shelves.

Source: Bainbridge Bunting, Early Architecture in New Mexico

Personally, I prefer the older style. All the little indentations in those fake pillars would have just collected dust. And probably soot. Give me the clean lines of traditional adobe anytime!

© Loretta Miles Tollefson

Sources: Bainbridge Bunting, Early Architecture in New Mexico and Of Earth and Timbers Made, New Mexico Architecture.

Aftermath of a Rebellion

Aftermath of a Rebellion

In mid April 1847, the Taos Valley was still experiencing the aftermath of the January 20 rebellion.

The U.S. Army had captured a total of 45 rebels. They released 24 for lack of evidence and tried 21. The trials were over, but the executions weren’t. Seventeen men would hang, one of them for high treason.

The high treason charge was questionable. An argument could be made that a person couldn’t rebel against a country to which they had not pledged allegiance. The war with Mexico wasn’t over. New Mexico was still officially part of occupied Mexico, and its people were still citizens of that country. There’d been a trial in early January which had found the high treason charge suspect. But that didn’t stop 26-year-old prosecuting attorney Francis P. Blaire, Jr. from continuing to use it.

In early March, Blaire filed the charge against three men: Antonio Maria Trujillo, Pantaleon Archuleta, Trinidad Barceló, and Pedro Vigil. Apparently the only rebel trials held in Santa Fe, the charges against Archuleta, Barceló, and Pedro Vigil were eventually dropped after the proceedings ended in a mistrial.

Trujillo was found guilty, but because he was elderly and unwell, the jury and judge requested that the sentence be commuted. Military Governor Sterling Price granted the pardon, and Santa Fe was spared a demonstration of the effectiveness of the gallows.

Taos wasn’t. Of the eighteen prisoners tried there, all were convicted and hung.

There had been a single execution on February 7 of Pablo Montoya, one of the rebellion leaders, but the remainder waited until April, when the formal trials began.

These hangings started on Friday, April 9, when Hipolito (Polo) Salazar, Jose Manuel Garcia, Pedro Lucero, Juan Ramon Trujillo, and the Romero brothers Ysidro and Manuel, age sixteen, were executed two days after their trials. Salazar had been convicted of high treason, but the rest of these men were found guilty of killing American-appointed Governor Charles Bent.

The eleven remaining convicted rebels had to wait to meet their end. Most of them would die three weeks later, on Friday, April 30. These executions seem to have occurred in two batches. The six men from Taos Pueblo—Francisco Naranjo, Jose Gabriel Romero (or Samora), Juan Domingo Martin, Juan Antonio Lucero, and a man called El Cuervo—were apparently hanged at the same time. They were buried at the Pueblo at the church which had been destroyed by the Americans in early February.

Ruins of the Taos Pueblo church. Source: Palace of the Governors Archives

Four other men—Manuel Miera, Juan Pacheco, Manuel Sandoval, and Rafael Tafoya—were also executed that day. Then, on the following Friday, Juan Antonio Avila was hanged for his role in the insurrection.

Why the week-long delay? There’s no information in the records. I’d love to know the answer to this question, just as I’d like to know why the trials of Trujillo, Barceló, Archuleta, and Vigil were held in Santa Fe and the reasons for the mistrials for latter three men. Was this a procedural issue? Was family pressure brought to bear?

I’m especially curious about the case of Trinidad Barceló. He was the older brother of businesswoman Gertrudes Barceló, who had assisted the U.S. occupiers in suppressing a revolt the previous December. Did her support of the regime play a part in her brother’s release?

What about the other two: Archuleta and Vigil? Were they related to Acting Governor Donaciano Vigil or some other prominent New Mexican who the Americans wanted on their side?

And then there are the stories of the men who died: their reasons for resistance, the impact on their families, the pain or joy they left behind.

So many stories, so little time.

© Loretta Miles Tollefson

Sources: David C. Beyreis, Blood in the Borderlands; Mary J. Straw Cook, Doña Tules; James A. Crutchfield, Revolt at Taos; Mark L. Gardner and Marc Simmons, eds., The Mexican War Correspondence of Richard Smith Elliott; Lewis H. Garrard, Wah-to-ya and the Taos Trail; Lucy Lippard, Pueblo Chico, Land and Lives in Galisteo since 1814; Michael McNierney, ed. Taos 1847, The Revolt in Contemporary Accounts; Alberto Vidaurre in Corina A. Santistevan and JuliaMoore, Taos, A Topical History.

Shopping, Gambling, and Dancing, Oh My

Shopping, Gambling, and Dancing, Oh My

In my forthcoming novel set in Santa Fe, New Mexico, the young people at the heart of the story don’t go home after church. They go to the plaza. They aren’t the only ones. In fact, American newcomers to the city were often shocked at what they saw as a desecration of the Sabbath. People weren’t merely walking. They were shopping, dancing, and gambling, and probably drinking as well.

This Sunday ritual didn’t change after the U.S. Army invaded in 1846. Lt. Abert tells us that “in the square all the people congregate to sell their marketing and one constantly sees objects to interest and amuse. It is filled with donkeys laden with immense packs of wood, fodder, melons, and other articles. The soldiers too are constantly passing and mingling in a motley group.”

Part of the reason for this activity on the plaza was that it was a pleasant place to be. Even Susan Magoffin, who had little else good to say about New Mexico, found that the square made for “a fine walk.” “The Plaza or square is very large,” she reported. The Governor’s Palace, or palacio, with a wide portal in front, formed the north side of the square, while a church and dwelling houses faced it on the south. “The two remaining sides are fronted by stores and dwellings, all with portals,” she added. “In rainy weather there is no use for an umbrella.”

The portales, or verandas, Magoffin mentioned provided shade for the buildings and were shaded themselves by what Magoffin described as a circle of trees around the square. These were cottonwoods which had been planted only a couple years before, probably using the pole planting method. A small irrigation ditch, or acequia, ran alongside the trees.

Under the portales, vendors sold everything from pottery to sweet onions. There were plenty of other ways to spend one’s money as well, namely gambling. One didn’t have to go indoors to indulge in this pastime.  Out-of-doors games included pitarria, which was played on smooth ground inside a marked square, with short sticks of two colors. Quoit pitching, using pegs driven into the ground, was also available.

Those who wanted to gamble could play monte, both with a full deck of Spanish cards, and a three-card version.  Roulette was also popular, as were various games of dice.

Later, if one liked, someone in town was apt to be holding a dance, and everyone was welcome, from the priest to the criminal released from jail for the evening. Everybody danced, the lady with the ragged farm worker, the old man with the little girl.

Newcomers also disapproved of the city’s open door dancing policy. Matt Fields tells us of a ball given by the Governor in 1839 which “all the beauty and fashion attended, and also all the rabble,” adding, “the dances, as well as all the manners and customs in Santa Fe, are of a demi-barbarian character”. Nineteenth century Americans, whose country was founded on democratic principles, were certainly quick to make negative social distinctions.

Some things never change. 

© Loretta Miles Tollefson

Sources: W.H.H. Allison, Old Santa Fe Magazine, 2:2, “Santa Fe During the Winter of 1837-1838”; Sheila Drumm, Down the Santa Fe Trail and Into Mexico, Diary of Susan Shelby Magoffin 1846-1847; Janet LeCompte in Joan M. Jensen and Darlis M. Miller, New Mexico Women, Intercultural Perspectives; Clyde and Mae Reed Porter, Matt Field on the Santa Fe Trail.

An Unhappy Country – The Countdown Begins!

An Unhappy Country – The Countdown Begins!

The thirty-day countdown to publication of my novel An Unhappy Country has begun!

It’s August 1846. The U.S. army has taken Santa Fe without firing a shot. The Mexican American War is over in New Mexico. Or is it?

Two days after the Army arrives, seventeen-year-old Jessie Milbank and her friends stumble on a man with a knife in his back in the Santa Fe plaza. Then someone close to Jessie’s friend Juanita is murdered. When an insurrection is suppressed in December, Jessie begins to wonder if the three events are linked. 

Were the murdered men part of a conspiracy to throw out the invaders? And were they the only ones hoping for a fight? After revolt does finally break out and the Americans suppress it at the battle of Taos Pueblo, yet another man is murdered. Will the reasons for his death provide clues to the earlier ones?

Early readers are raving about Jessie, the book’s insight into these little-known events, and the beautiful writing in this novel.

You can pre-order the e-book now for only $.99. It’s available at all e-reader outlets , including Amazon and BarnesandNoble. The paperback is available for pre-order at BarnesandNoble, as well.

Scandalous Smoking Women

Scandalous Smoking Women

American visitors to 1800s New Mexico found much that was strange to them. “Mud” (adobe) houses, low-impact agriculture, and the clothing styles all gave Anglos something to feel superior about. New Mexican women’s smoking habits were something else entirely. Scandalous, repulsive, and, at least for one young American, titillating.

Seventeen-year-old Lewis Garrard, while decrying the custom, also admitted that smoking enhanced “the charm of the Mexican señoritas, who, with neatly rolled-up shucks [cigarettes] between coral lips,” smiled winningly, “their magically brilliant eyes … searching one’s very soul.” And they offered the treats to him! “These cigarillos they present with such a grace, and so expressive an eye, so musical a tongue, and so handsome a face” that it was impossible to refuse.

New Mexican women smoking. Source: G.W. Kendall, Narrative of the Texan Santa Fe Expedition, Vol. II

What exactly is a cigarillo? Susan Magoffin described them as “a delicate cigar made with a very little tobacco rolled in a corn shuck or bit of paper.” Needless to say, she didn’t try them herself. After all, she was a proper American woman.

The personal production of individual cigarillos was common in the Mexican states of Chihuahua, Sonora, and New Mexico at the time, although elsewhere in the country they were manufactured commercially. The commercial ones always rolled in paper, while New Mexico cigarillos were often made with pre-cut pieces of corn husk, or shuck.

The tobacco used for the New Mexican cigarettes wasn’t necessarily imported, either. They were often made with wild tobacco, or punche. If that wasn’t available, mullein (punchon) was substituted, though the two tasted quite different from each other, with punche being preferred.

The tobacco or its substitute was dried and shredded and carried in a small pouch or silver box. The corn husks or papers for rolling were kept separate, with women often carrying theirs in embroidered cloth cases.

Preparation of the corn shucks consisted of scraping the large pieces smooth, then cutting them into sections roughly three by one and a half inches. When a smoker wanted a cigarette, they (she!) pulled out a piece, moistened it with their mouth, sprinkled tobacco on one end, then rolled it up, pinching the ends to hold the contents.

This process in itself must have been erotic for the teenage Garrard. No wonder he found the cigarillos New Mexican women offered him so irresistible, threatening to draw him into “the giddy vortex of dissipation!”

© Loretta Miles Tollefson

Sources: Stella M. Drumm, ed., Down the Santa Fe Trail and Into Mexico, Diary of Susan Shelby Magoffin, 1846-1847;  Marc L. Gardner and Marc Simmons eds, The Mexican War Correspondence of Richard Smith Elliott; Lewis H. Garrard, Wah-to-Yah and the Taos Trail; Albin O. Korte, Tobacco Tales, La Herencia, Summer 2005; Michael Moore, Los Remedios, Traditional Herbal Remedies of the Southwest.