Chapter 7: Last of the Conquistadors. c1595–1625.

Juan de Onate embodied the history of New Spain's conquest. His father Cristobal de Onate had worked alongside Cortes and Coronado in subduing the northwestern provinces, married into the Mendoza family, and grown rich from local silver mines. Juan's pedigree as a conqueror was tempered by his marriage to Isabel de Tolosa Cortes de Moctezuma: the daughter of Leonor Cortes Moctezuma; granddaughter of Hernan Cortes; and great-granddaughter of Montezuma.

In 1595, King Philip II appointed Onate the first governor of New Mexico. With the wealth to convey his ambition, Onate took years to assemble one of the best-supplied expeditions ever seen in New Spain, comprising: 129 men-at-arms, plus wives and children; a stretched caravan of 83 wagons; and a drove of some 7,000 horses and livestock. Leaving his own wife and children behind in Mexico, Onate finally set out in January 1598, the same year that Philip died.

Onate's caravan rolled slowly north, following old Indian trading routes and beating a path soon known as the Royal Road – the Camino Real. After three months lumbering through arid valleys and deserts, colonists pushed through mesquites and brambles to quench their thirst on the banks of a long, broad river. Onate knew the river by two names: the upper section that began far to the north and idled south as the River of the North, 'Rio del Norte'; and the lower section that coursed southeast, oft in violent torrents, as the Rough or Raging River, 'Rio Bravo.' While the former name had been in use for decades, no trace of the latter has been found before Onate's expedition. Combined, the two sections became the Rough River of the North: RIO BRAVO DEL NORTE. Those living south of the river still recognize it as the Rio Bravo del Norte – or more succinctly, Rio Bravo. But to those who would settle north of the river, beginning with Onate's colonists, the name jarred. The river was not of the north – the longer part of its length was to the south; nor was the river raging or rough – its upper sections flowed languidly. The river's most distinguishing feature was its size. In an arid terrain cut by small streams and arroyos, this was a conspicuously Big River: RIO GRANDE. To those who live north of the river, this name remains official.

On April 30, still yet to cross the Rio Grande, Juan Onate took formal possession of New Mexico in the name of King Philip. While scouts sought a safe place to ford the big river, the caravan idled along the south bank – with men, women, and children swimming, bathing, and playing in the cool, languid current. After two weeks they found a break in the river, coinciding with a natural pass through the mountains to the north. With Indian assistance, the long Spanish caravan crossed to the northern bank and continued north through the mountains. Perhaps for the crossing in the river, as much as for the pass in the mountains, Onate called this site EL PASO.

After making their entrada at El Paso, Spanish colonists beheld their desolate prospects. A narrow strip of land straddling the river remained fertile while the horizons showed deserts broken by searing ridges and tabletop mountains, called mesas. Tracking the Rio Grande north, colonists entered the domain of Pueblo Indians. The southernmost pueblo settlement Onate listed as 'Tzenaquel de la Mesilla.' Tzenaquel, the native name for the pueblo, has not survived; MESILLA, the Spanish name for a small mesa, remains among the Rio Grande Valley.

Traversing arid lands peppered with cactus and yucca, Onate's colonists endured days of suffocating thirst. On May 21 the expedition suffered its first casualty when Pedro Robledo succumbed to conditions; buried by the river, his gravesite became a trail marker and his name attached to the ROBLEDO Mountains. Stalled by the broken terrain of the upper Rio Grande Valley, Onate left the ponderous caravan behind and bounded north across desert flats with a contingent of soldiers seeking water. One evening a small dog wandered into their dry camp with muddy paws; tracing the dog's trail, Spanish scouts located two waterholes nearby, which they named 'Ojo del Perrillo' – Spring of the Little Dog. Accompanying Onate's vanguard of soldiers was his cousin, Cristobal de Salazar, a Franciscan friar; his craggy features and long beard left a distinct impression on Spanish soldiers, who imagined they saw the profile of Friar Cristobal in the crest of the FRA CRISTOBAL Mountains.

Hunger now stalked the Spanish, with little to eat save the sparse flesh of famished livestock. After rejoining the Rio Grande, ravenous colonists entered one southern Pueblo village and received an ample gift of maize from the villagers. In memory of the succor they received, the Spanish renamed the village SOCORRO.

Entering the heartland of the Pueblo Indians in the summer of 1598, Onate demanded they submit to his authority and accept Christ as their savior; in return he promised to place them under his protection. Menaced by tribal enemies from the north, Pueblo Indians abided the Spanish presence. In July Onate led colonists into a small Pueblo village on the east bank of the Rio Grande, which he intended to establish as the capital of the colony. He rechristened the pueblo 'San Juan de los Caballeros,' or simply SAN JUAN, honoring both himself, Juan, and his Cavaliers. This name would endure four centuries before Pueblo villagers finally restored a name from their own language.

Onate refashioned other ancient pueblos with the self-assurance of his faith, often coupling religious and secular ideals. Within 12 months of founding San Juan, Onate relocated his capital to the west bank of the Rio Grande. Taking over another Pueblo village, Onate rechristened it 'San Gabriel de los Espanoles,' honoring both God's messenger St Gabriel, and the Spaniards come to colonize New Mexico. While St Gabriel faded from the maps, the Spanish endured in the feminine singular ESPANOLA.

Other pueblo villages likewise lost prehistoric names to the new Catholic missions built amongst them. Within a 50-mile radius of San Juan, the map shows many saints sacred to Spanish Catholics: SAN FELIPE, for St Philip, the disciple of Jesus, and the patron of the Spanish monarch, King Philip II; SANTA ANA, for St Anne, mother of Mary, and the patron of King Philip's fourth wife and niece, Anna of Austria; SANTO DOMINGO, for St Dominic, a 13th century Spanish priest who founded the Dominican order; SAN ILDEFONSO, for St Ildephonsus, a 7th century archbishop of Toledo.

Onate yet recorded several Pueblo names that survived the Spanish occupation. He reported the 'Tzooma' or 'Sama' by the river now spelled CHAMA; the name may refer to the river's red water. He also referred to the 'Peccos' Pueblo for the PECOS; the name probably signified a water place, marking local springs such as fed the epic Pecos River.

Puebloans soon found more to fear from Spanish soldiers than Indian raiders. Pursuing rumors of gold across the deserts, Onate's scouting parties terrorized the Pueblos, raping women by the wayside, seizing scarce supplies from hungry families. In the mesa-top citadel of Acoma, residents resisted demands for provisions and killed a dozen Spanish soldiers in the confrontation – including Onate's nephew. Onate replied with brutality. In January of 1599, he sent seventy of his best soldiers to scale the cliffs of the mesa, hauling up two cannons with them. After pounding the ancient pueblo with artillery, vengeful soldiers then massacred 800 villagers. Onate ordered surviving women to be enslaved, children to be taken from their families and raised as Christians, and males over 25 years of age to have one foot amputated – though the last of these orders seemed so senseless to Onate's world-weary soldiers that they rarely took off more than a toe.

Ranging east and west, Onate encountered Indians less sedentary and more militant than most Puebloans. Spanish soldiers crossed the territory of a fearsome tribe whom the Puebloans called their Enemy: APACHE. As the Spanish learnt more of these Indians – who spoke an idiom unrelated to any other local languages – they recorded affiliated tribes like the 'Apaches de Nabaju,' which probably translates to Apaches of the Valley-Fields; and the 'Apaches de Xila,' probably the Apaches of the Mountains. With the letters 'b' and 'v' interchangeable in Castilian Spanish, 'Nabaju' became NAVAJO. With the letters 'x' and 'g' also interchanging, 'Xila' became GILA. Although all three tribes were once affiliated, they had more recently diverged and spread across the arid region, where their names spread to mountains, valleys, and streams.

Spaniards also provided new Spanish names to scattered Apache bands. They called a Pine-inhabiting band PINALENO; a Little Basket or Gourd-making band JICARILLA; and a Salt-producing band the SALINERO. One Mescal-producing band they called MESCALERO, in reference to their consumption of the nutritious mescal agave; confusing the issue, the Mescalero were also known to consume the hallucinogenic peyote – sometimes called mescal cactus. Yet another Apache band, known to their cousins as wild, thoughtless, or stupid, the Spanish called TONTO; this Stupid name would soon find its way on the map.

Separated from northernmost settlements of Mexico by a thousand miles of desert, Onate's colony in New Mexico remained the most remote Spanish outpost in the New World. Resupplying the colony proved a logistical burden borne by every colonist. In October 1604, Onate rode west from the Rio Grande with three dozen soldiers, desperate to find access to the sea. West of the Zuni pueblo, they arrived at a river, colored red, which they called the COLORADO. The expedition's Franciscan scribe elaborated: 'They called it thus because the water is nearly red; the river runs from southeast to northwest, afterwards turning to the west, and they say it enters California. From here to where it empties into the sea there are more than 100 leagues of pine forest.' Onate and his men applied this name only to a river now known as the Little Colorado, which flowed into a larger stream. Striking out overland – bypassing the Grand Canyon – Onate picked up the larger stream; hoping it led to sea, he called it the 'Rio Grande de Buena Esperanza,' the Big River of Good Hope. But the ruddy description of the Colorado proved equally apt for the Buena Esperanza, which continued running red from silt and sediment of the surrounding desert. The name Colorado thus coursed onto the main stem of the river, winding westward through arid lands of pinon pine, juniper, and paloverdes, emptying into the Gulf of California.

Within this vast watershed, Onate's men encountered the 'Cruzados' – a poor, practically naked tribe who nevertheless hung crosses or crucifixes from their hair. Years earlier the tribe had encountered a Franciscan missionary, who had warned them to wear the cross for their own protection whenever they saw Spaniards again. Onate soon encountered the 'Amacava,' who brought them maize, beans, and gourds. The spelling of this tribal name evolved over time: the first letter was dropped; the 'c' was substituted with 'j' or 'h'; and after some vowel movement, it became standardized as MOJAVE and MOHAVE. A hardy people, the Mohave ranged across the arid western terrain and often traversed the Mojave Desert.

Local Indians assured Onate that the river would soon bring them to the sea. One Spanish soldier, who had once sailed with Sebastian Vizcaino, agreed that California waters must be close. In January 1605, Onate reached the Gulf of California – otherwise known as the Sea of Cortes. Though disappointed not to find enormous pearls along its shores, Onate was impressed by the sea's sheltered northern waters and intended to establish a port.

On his return east to New Mexico, Onate stopped to inscribe his name upon a large rock rising from the desert floor: 'Passed by here the Adelantado Don Juan de Oñate, from the discovery of the Sea of the South, the 16th of April of 1605.' Generations of explorers would add their names to the rock or the headland, known by the generic Spanish name of EL MORRO.

By the early 17th century, the Spanish ideal of the noble conquistador had become the subject of ridicule. Montalvo's chivalrous knights, Amadis and Esplandian, gave way to Cervantes' parody of knightly pretensions: Don Quixote. Across the empire, Franciscans decried the violence committed under the sign of the cross – and demanded better treatment of Christian Indians and African slaves. Some oppressed peoples took fate into their own hands. 1

Onate's governance, alternately absent and callous, alienated both Pueblo villagers and Spanish colonists. During the extended absence of his Colorado expedition, hundreds of settlers deserted New Mexico. Upon reaching Mexico, their accounts of Governor Onate's rule compelled the viceroy to recall him. Facing 29 separate charges – ranging from the cruel treatment of Indians to the belittlement of the clergy – Onate resigned his office in 1607 before it could be stripped from him. Christened Cristobal de Naharriondo Perez Onate y Cortez Moctezuma, his teenage son now settled in the colony and strove to maintain the family's influence; he would die a few years later fighting Indians in the deserts of New Mexico. Exiled from New Mexico and then from Mexico, old Onate lived on the margins of New Spain before he finally expired in Spain – still fighting to restore his reputation and grieving the death of his son.

Whispers loudened that the colony, abandoned but for a dozen families, would now be abandoned by officials in Mexico. But the Franciscan clergy who remained in New Mexico argued for its continued occupation, citing the large number of converts made among the Pueblo Indians. For the benefit of the church, the viceroy sent a new governor to revive the failing colony. Arriving in New Mexico at the end of 1608, Pedro de Peralta was more a deliberate administrator than an unruly conquistador. Among his first acts as governor was the transfer of government from San Gabriel to an abandoned Pueblo village farther north. He commenced construction of a new adobe capital, with a Palace of the Governors built around a central plaza. Peralta christened it The Royal City of the Holy Faith of St Francis, 'La Villa Real de Santa Fe de San Francisco.' In brief, the governor's objective was the advancement of the Holy Faith – SANTA FE.

Franciscans radiated immense influence out of Santa Fe. In 1613 Governor Peralta, falling short of the Franciscans' high standards, was imprisoned in his own capital for almost 12 months. Future governors remained careful to appease the clergy, while viceroys balanced the powers of church and state. Across New Mexico, many Franciscans were convinced they had spiritual assistance from a mysterious 'Lady in Blue' – a beautiful, fair-skinned woman in a blue habit – who appeared to local Indians, directing them to missions around Santa Fe and the Rio Grande Valley. With no female missionaries in the field, nor any convent within a thousand miles, officials were confounded by sightings of the Blue Lady. Contemporaneously, Maria de Agreda – a young Franciscan nun cloistered in Spain – reported that angels transported her to the heathen lands of New Spain. Under interrogation, she accurately described locations and tribes across New Mexico. Some Spanish officials felt compelled to credit the nun's curious account of her bilocation.

Under Franciscan influence, the Indians of New Mexico gradually embraced Christianity. Missionaries would dedicate a pueblo to SANTA CLARA, for St Clare of Assisi, who established a second Franciscan order for women. Laboring on estancias, ranchers and peons prayed to Spanish saints like SAN YSIDRO, St Isidore, an 11th century farmer from Madrid, the patron saint of farmers, gardeners, and sheepherders; and SAN PASCUAL, St Pascual, a 16th century Spanish gatekeeper for the Franciscans, now the patron saint of lost domestic animals.

Across the sprawling Spanish Empire, the expansionist policies of Philip II had yielded to the indifferent imperialism of Philip III. Retreating from his royal duties, King Philip allowed the reins of Spain's government to fall to the Duke of Lerma. The duke in turn, entrusted governance of New Spain to a close ally, the Marquess of Guadalcazar. And as viceroy, the marquess had no interest in expending resources on the northern frontiers of Mexico. The great Spanish thrust into North America slowed to the point of cessation. 2