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THE ROSAS AFFAIR
Honor, Abuse of Power, and Retribution
In Colonial New Mexico 1637–1645
A Novel Based on a True Story
Donald L. Lucero
© 2008 by Donald L. Lucero. All Rights Reserved.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lucero, Donald L., 1935-
The Rosas affair : honor, abuse of power, and retribution in colonial New Mexico, 1637-1645 : a novel based on a true story / by Donald L. Lucero.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-86534-681-9 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Rosas, Luís de, d. 1642--Fiction. 2. New Mexico--History--To 1848--Fiction.
I. Title.
PS3612.U255R67 2008
813’.6--dc22
2008032778
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In Memory
of
The Grandparents
of
The Rosas Affair
Hernando Ruiz de Hinojos and Beatriz Perez de Bustillo
Alonso Varela Jaramillo and Catalina Perez de Bustillo
Asencio de Arechuleta and Ana Perez de Bustillo
Antonio Baca* and Yumar Perez de Bustillo
Francisco Gomez and Ana Robledo
Alonso Baca
Diego Marquez* and Bernardina Vasquez
Antonio Jorge de Vera and Gertrudis Baca
Pedro Lucero de Godoy and Petronila de Zamora
Matias Lopez del Castillo and (Maria) de Archuleta
*Those executed
A fearless soldier, ruthless in his methods, and
avowedly anticlerical, Rosas entered New Mexico
[in the spring of 1637] with two objectives: to place
civil government and secular authority on a
superior footing, and to profit from his governorship
—Gutierrez, When Jesus Came the Corn Mothers Went Away
The precise chronology of events [regarding the
Rosas affair] from mid-1639 to mid-1641 is
impossible to establish from conflicting testimony . . .
—Kessell, Kiva, Cross, and Crown
1
His Lordship the Governor
MEXICO CITY, KINGDOM OF NEW SPAIN,
JANUARY 1637
A footman, acting in place of the duke’s equerry, stood on the path below the garden. “All’s ready, don Luis” he said to the man waiting on the tread of the terrace. “Do you wish for me to bring up the carriage?”
“A moment yet,” replied the governor-applicant, Luis de Rosas, glancing at the landau awaiting him in the courtyard. A moment yet, he thought to himself, one further moment.
The day was bright and clear, crisp winter weather under a brilliant sun. Behind him, the eaves of the two doors leading from a series of palatial halls onto the red-tiled terrace were bright in the morning sun. The eave’s porches of blue tiles and the walls up to the open-eaved roof were decorated with azulejo tiles and chiaroscuro frescos in the Italian design of fronds and foliage spilling from two-handled vases. Before him, his view swept over the walls of the courtyard to a high church and to the huge square façade of the viceregal palace almost transparent in the dazzling light. He could have walked to the palace, but protocol required that on this, his final meeting with the viceroy, he must ride in a carriage.
Rosas, who knew the importance of symbols, bore himself with dignity. He was clad in a rose-colored doublet of rich material worked with rows of silver crescents that sparkled in the sun. In full court dress sans hat, sword, belt, and spurs, his dark, bearded face bordered in a small ruff, he showed only slightly the marks of the pox that had afflicted him as a child. He appeared handsome and rugged with the type of masculine vigor appealing to men. Although sickly in childhood, and suffering all his life with gastric troubles, he showed no outward sign of these ailments or of the tertian fevers with which he was plagued and appeared to be in the peak of health. His medical problems had perhaps impinged on the development of his personality, however. Imbued with a considerable sense of his own importance—although he was, by all accounts, only the son of a merchant—he had been difficult as a child, sullen as a young man, taciturn and stubborn as an adult. Now often rageful and filled with arrogance, his measured bearing on this occasion, would, he felt, show the curious and expectant assembly he was about to meet, that here was a governor possessing presence and energy worthy of their attention.
Rosas knew it was imperative to arrive at the appointed hour. His actions would be observed from the instant his carriage entered the viceregal grounds. And when it did, as the lone occupant of the vehicle, he must appear to be in complete command of the moment. It was early, and, therefore, he waited. He stood at the top of the stairs examining the trappings of his horse, a prancing charger of the finest Spanish breed, waiting impatiently for him to spring onto his back. His horse would, instead, be led behind his carriage from the ducal palace where he had been staying while in negotiation with the viceroy,
