The Silver Mines of Hostotipaquillo Part 1- Ex-Hacienda La Herencia

 

Templo Virgen del Favor overlooks Hostotipaquillo's Plaza. Hostotipaquillo is pronounced hos-toti-pak-ee-o. It comes from the Nahuatl word "Ostotipac", which means "above the cave".  It is the cabecera (chief town) of a municipio (equivalent to US county) which has the same name. The Spaniard Cristóbal de Oñate conquered the area in 1530, but it remained a frontier outpost for the next 75 years.

Hostotipaquillo's native people rebelled twice, in 1538 and 1543. The second uprising was the most serious. It involved 5,000 warriors and required Diego de Collo to bring an army over from Guadalajara to put down the revolt. Silver was discovered in the area in 1605 and the wealth the mines produced enabled the construction of Templo Virgen del Favor a decade later in 1615.  

This posting begins a series on the mining haciendas that sprang up after 1605. I will show you some of the old sites and explain how their operations functioned over the centuries. In Part 1, we will travel into the high-desert country north of Hostotipaquillo to visit ex-Hacienda La Herencia, also called ex-Hacienda Santo Domingo. 

The Plaza of Hostotipaquillo, viewed from the steeple of the Templo. It is an attractive and well-kept plaza, surrounded by colonial-era buildings and shaded by ficus trees. Even without the various old haciendas in the area, the town would be worth a visit. However, although there is a well-paved road leading to the town itself, those planning a visit to the outlying areas should consider traveling in high-clearance vehicles. The roads leading to those places are mostly unpaved and some are maintained better than others.

After silver was discovered, mills to refine the ore were built. These were called haciendas de beneficio and the initial operations were set up by a women named Isabel Pérez and two brothers named Diego and Francisco Rodriquez. Many others followed over the centuries. Although the boom-and-bust cycle of silver mining meant some mines were abandoned, many were reopened later when economic conditions improved or new technologies were developed. 

Overview

Google map of the area around Hostotipaquillo. To reach the town, take the 15D cuota (toll road) west past Tequila. Exit at Magdelena and take the 15 Libre (free road) west through Magdalena. After approximately 10.5 km (6.3mi), turn off to the right at the sign for Hostotipaquillo. This road will take you directly into the town and to its plaza. 

Many of the pueblos on the map above originated as either haciendas de beneficio, or farming/ranching haciendas that serviced the mining industry. These include Santo Domingo de Guzman (top right quarter of the map) where ex-Hacienda La Herencia is located. Also included are Huajacatlán, Labor de Guadalupe, Santa Maria, La Quemada, Ojo Zarco, San Andrés, San Nicolas, Santo Tomás, and La Venta de Mochitiltic. There are others in the area which I have not yet located.

Colonial-era map of Real de Hostotipaquillo and its haciendas de beneficio. North is to the left and south to the right. The map shows a kind of lop-sided wheel with the town in the left center and various roads branching out like spokes to the various mines and haciendas de beneficio. While there is still some mining in the area, in colonial times the mines and other sites were as thick as flees on a junk-yard dog. Some Spanish terms relating to the colonial mining industry include:

Real- (pronounced ray-all) A mining district designated by the Spanish Crown. Real de Hostotipaquillo was one of these and at one point was a Real of Reales.

Haciendas de beneficio- Ore-processing operations. They might be owned independently or by the same person or family who owned one or more of the mines.

Haciendas de ganado y agricola- these produced livestock and/or grains like corn or wheat. Often, the owner of this kind of hacienda would also own a mine and a refining operation. The idea was to create a fully integrated business.

Refining processes:

Proceso de Fuera- an early refining process which used fire to melt the silver out of the ore. This worked fine for high quality ore found near the surface, but this eventually became scarce. Mines were then dug deeper but the ore was of lower quality and the deeper levels sometimes caused flooding, which often resulted in abandonment.

Proceso de Azoque- Developed in the 16th century, it was not widely used until the 17th and 18th centuries. Crushed ore was spread out like a giant pancake and then mixed with mercury and water by the feet of horses or humans. This caused the mercury to amalgamate with the silver and leach to the bottom, where it was collected and heated to burn off the mercury, leaving nearly pure silver. 

Hostotipaquillo's high-desert back country

Rows of blue agave stretch off toward the mountains. The clear, sunny, winter day produced grand vistas. The country north of the city of Hostotipaquillo is a series of hills, valleys, and broad plateaus. Much of this area is planted with blue agave, from which tequila is made. The Rio Santiago, which originates at Lake Chapala, runs through a deep gorge at the base of the mountains you see in the background before heading west to the Pacific Ocean. 

Mines were generally located high in the mountains but, because water was needed for the refining process and for the people who worked there, haciendas de beneficio were built near arroyos (creek beds) or rivers, The ore was initially broken up near the mine, then loaded on mules and taken down mountain trails to a hacienda de beneficio for further crushing and refining. 

These facilities were generally remote from towns, so small pueblos tended to grow up around them to provide services and places for the mine-workers' families to live. That is the origin of many of the small pueblos in the area, including Santo Domigo Guzman, our goal.

A friendly motorcylist gave us directions. Once you leave the paved roads of the town, things can get pretty confusing. There are few markers or directional signs and roads head off in every direction. When I plotted our route, I used Google satellite maps to identify any possible landmarks, but there were few. At this point we had stopped to figure out if we were on the correct road. 

As luck would have it, this friendly young guy came putting along from the direction we were heading. He seemed amused by this encounter with bewildered foreigners. I doubt that he sees many, since this area is definitely "off the beaten track". However, he assured us that we were going the right direction. In rural Mexico, the locals are nearly always friendly and helpful.

Ex-Hacienda La Herencia / Santo Domingo

The ex-hacienda is on the northern edge of Santo Domingo Guzman. At first, I wasn't sure this was the right place. My research hadn't turned up any photographs and the structures above didn't conform to the architectural pattern with which I was familiar. The buildings were definitely old, but I just wasn't sure. The road past it continued up a steep gravelly hill that looked a bit daunting. In fact, two of our three drivers were very reluctant to try it. 

However, the third driver, Jim B, is always game for a challenge. He and I left the others in the shade of a big tree and headed out to determine if the hacienda was further up the hill. The road was very steep and filled with hairpin turns around precipitous drop-offs that made even Jim B a bit nervous. We didn't find any alternative sites, but when we got to the top of the ridge, we were rewarded with a stupendous view.

The Rio Santiago gorge runs through steep mountains. This was the sight that greeted us when we topped the ridge. The rugged mountains rolled away for many miles. Far below us, we could see sections of Rio Santiago. Although I had seen parts of the river near where it drains Lake Chapala and also up near Guadalajara, I had never seen it in this area except on maps. 

In fact, the area is so remote that there is only one bridge that crosses the river anywhere near here and there are very few pueblos close to its banks. As my father used to say, country like this is "out where God buried his bicycle."

Cattle hung out near where our friends waited. One of them was enjoying a snooze in the warm sun. Mexican cattle are generally quite docile, but you never can be sure. They are large, heavy, and are equipped with very respectable horns. While hiking, a friend of mine once got trampled when she got in between a cow and her calf. She wasn't badly hurt, but she could have been. 

The cattle were near the entrance gate of a crumbling old structure that we now believed to belong to the ex-Hacienda La Herencia. In Spanish, Herencia means "inheritance" and that is the name used on the Google map of the area. I have since found a Mexican government document from 1987 showing a different name. The area around Santo Domingo Guzman was once part of Hacienda Santo Domingo, which is also the name of a nearby and still-functioning mine. 

Jim G chats with the dueño of the old property. After we hooted and helloed for some time outside his gate, this fellow appeared from around the side of the building. His name was Juan and he was the dueño (owner). He confirmed that it was part of the old hacienda de beneficio now called La Herencia. Juan is in his eighties and he told us his family has tried to persuade him to move, but this is his home and he is determined to stay.

Juan invited us onto his property and showed us around. I have always been charmed by the old Mexican custom of hospitality embodied in the phrase "mi casa es su casa" (my house is your house). I have encountered it everywhere and with people of every social class, from the very poor to the wealthy. It is one of the things I like best about Mexico.

The walls of Juan's house were a mixture of rough stone and adobe. It was hard to say if this was originally the casa grande (big house) of the  property or had served some other function. The materials of the outer walls seemed quite old, although the roof was made of modern corrugated metal. 

Construction styles change over the centuries and you can often see this through the materials used. Adobe is generally the oldest, although I have seen new structures built with it. Rough stone followed adobe, then cut stone, then brick. Many old haciendas are a mixture of these, the result of remodeling over time. 

Be it ever so humble... This is the main entrance to Juan's home. The rough stone of the wall probably indicates 17th century construction. There were a number of other structures attached to the main house, including tool sheds or places for animals like the cattle we encountered near his gate. 

In the yard in front of this door was a group of trees that appeared to be a small orchard, although I didn't see any fruit at the time. Even though Juan is in his later years, between the cattle and the orchard, the place still seemed to be a going concern. 

Juan in his home. He graciously allowed us to walk through and take a few photos, including this one. Juan lives a simple, quiet, but apparently comfortable life in this remote pueblo. The fan indicates that the house has electricity and it has a solid concrete floor rather than dirt. 

I have been unable to discover much information about ex-Hacienda La Herencia. However, the government document says that ex-Hacienda Santo Domingo encompassed much of the area around the pueblo of Santo Domingo Guzman.

The document detailed a series of land transfers from the ex-hacienda to the ejido (communal farmers' organization) of Santo Domingo Guzman. It also mentioned several of the former owners of the ex-hacienda. These transfers were part of the land reform that occurred as a result of the Revolution. 

With great dignity, Juan returns to his home. After our brief tour, we decided that we had imposed on Juan enough and that it was time to leave. He walked us out to the gate and bid us goodbye with a polite adios, que las vaya bien ("goodbye, may it go well with you"). Then he turned and walked slowly back to his house. (Photo by Vinnie Heptig)

Following the Revolution of 1910-1917, ex-Hacienda Santo Domingo was owned for a time by a woman named Hermelinda Orozco. In 1937, at the height of the land reform era, she sold the property to another woman, Petra Hernandez Medina. 

When Petra died in 1966, the property was inherited by a man named C. Refugio Hernandez Camacho, who continued to own it during the land reform transfers leading up to at least 1987. This inheritance may be the origin of the name ex-Hacienda La Herencia (The Inheritance). 

Over the decades between 1939 until 1987 (the last date I have), several substantial parcels of land were transferred from the ex-hacienda to the ejido. Now, 37 years later, I doubt that very much of the original hacienda land remains.

Our Return

The roots of a ficus tree surround a large stone with a mural. We found this tree on the road leading away from Santo Domingo Guzman. It was so striking that we stopped for a photo. There was no sign to indicate who the figure on the boulder might be. 

However, the patron saint of the pueblo is Santo Domingo, so there is a good chance that this little mural was done to honors him. Santo Domingo (St. Dominic) was the founder of the Dominican Order, one of several groups of friars that evangelized the native people after the Conquest. (Photo by Vinnie Heptig)

The Hacienda Hunters picnic by a lake near Hostotipaquillo. We often stop for a picnic on these adventures. It is less expensive than stopping at a restaurant and takes up less time. The picnic food is always tasty and there is always more than we can eat. When we picnic at an hacienda site where there is a caretaker, we often invite him and his family to share in the feast.

This completes Part 1 of my series on Hostotipaquillo's haciendas. If you enjoyed it and have a question or would like to make a comment, please do so in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question, please include your email address so that I may respond in a timely fashion.

Hasta luego, Jim

Mexicans love dancing!

The "Owl Man" at the Ajijic Center for Culture and Arts. This fellow was part of a group whose musicians played replicas of pre-hispanic instruments. I nicknamed him the "Owl Man" because of his headdress. His wings were attached to his arms so that he could extend them fully and the total effect was definitely bird-like. I later found out from a friend that his real name is Sergio and he is from San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. On Facebook he is called Xiu Ocelotl. For more on this performance, click here. 

In this posting, I will show you some of the dance performances we have witnessed during our travels around the country. Some were connected to important religious fiestas, while others celebrated national holidays. Still others, like the one with the Owl Man, were performances in local cultural centers. All of them were wildly colorful and full of deep cultural meanings.

Sonajeros at the Candelaria Fiesta, Tuxpan. Sonajeros get their name from the rattles they carry. A long piece of wood is embedded with metal disks similar to miniature cymbals. Holding the handle at one end, the dancer shakes the instrument and the disks clash together. When hundreds of these are rhythmically shaken by large troupes of dancers, the sound is impressive. The Sonajeros dance in formation, and I was struck by the similarity of their movements to the close-order drill I learned in the military. It turned out that there is a reason for this. 

The Sonajeros originated in pre-hispanic times. Their vests, made of braided ribbons, mimic the cotton armor worn by Aztec warriors. The Sonajero rattle resembles the basic Aztec hand-weapon, called a macuahitli. It was about the same size as the Sonajero instrument, but instead of small metal disks to make music, it was edged by razor-sharp obsidian blades. The macuahitli was a fearsome weapon, capable of cutting off a man's arm with one swipe. However, it could do little damage against Spanish armor and the cotton vests were no protection against steel swords or cross-bow arrows, much less bullets from the early firearms carried by the Spanish.

 

Chayacates at the Candelaria Fiesta, Tuxpan.  Chayacates wear masks that mimic the appearance of colonial-era Spaniards, but their antlered headdresses are indigenous. Their rattles are made from gourds filled with pebbles or seeds. Like the Sonajeros, there were hundreds of them. Both sets of dancers were composed of people from the various neighborhoods of Tuxpan. After suiting up, they all danced through town and converged into a huge parade which ended at the Plaza.

The Chayacate tradition arose separately from the Sonajeros. In 1774, a great epidemic hit Tuxpan. The local priest called everyone together and asked that they pray to San Sebastian, the patron saint for those afflicted by epidemics. They did and, miraculously, the epidemic subsided.  To celebrate this, a great fiesta was established to coincide with Candalaria (Februrary 2). The Chayacate tradition has been handed down through the generations and San Sebastian's statue is carried during the parade to honor his intervention on behalf of the people of Tuxpan.

Danza de los Viejitos (Dance of the Little Old Men), Patzcuaro. This is now performed in many parts of Mexico, but it originated in Michoacan during the colonial era. There are various stories about the origin of the dance, but the one I like best was given to us during our first visit to Michoacan. It seems that the Spanish conquistadors and their descendants viewed any kind of physical labor as below their status as hidalgos (gentlemen). In fact, even the lowliest soldier with a peasant background considered himself an hidalgo in relation to the indigenous people.  

As the story goes, the Spaniards would sit on their horses and watch while the indigenous people did all the actual work. Consequently, the lack of exercise weakened the Spaniards and turned them into viejitos at a fairly early age. The natives were forced to provide free labor as a form of tribute under the oppressive encomienda system. The indigenous folks invented this dance to mock the Spaniards covertly because any overt mocking would have resulted in immediate and severe punishment. 

A Danzante struts his stuff, Patzcuaro. The dancers are known as Danzantes. They wear 
white cotton shirts and pants, sometimes embroidered. Over this, they wear colorful blankets called serapes. On their heads, they wear straw hats adorned with ribbons of various colors. Their sandals have wooden soles to create a tapping sound. This is accompanied by taps from the dancers' canes as they mimic the hobbling of an arthritic old man. However, the performance is really quite athletic, so the Danzantes are usually young men wearing masks which imitate the faces of old Spaniards.

A male expat tips his hat to his female partner at the Ajijic Plaza. The woman was one of several who performed at the Michoacan crafts market that is held each December in the Plaza. The crafts people travel up to Lake Chapala to sell their beautiful wares to people who are looking for presents to give for Christmas. The dancers often entice members of their audience to join them. The confetti on the expat's head is contained in the hollow eggshells sold during fiestas. People have great fun cracking them over the heads of unsuspecting friends, relatives, or even random bystanders.

A Güegüe dances with his female partner at the Michoacan crafts fair. Güegües (pronounced "gway-gway") wear horrific masks. They are usually found dancing on the fringe of the main performances. Their purpose is to scare away evil spirits. They must be successful at this because I have never seen any such spirits at fiestas where güegües are present.

Traditional dancers at Dia de los Muertos, Ajijic Plaza. They wear clothing which approximates the 19th century attire of Jalisco's haciendas. The style above is probably recognizable to north-of-the-border folks, who may think it is typical of all of Mexico. However, traditional clothing styles vary greatly from one part of Mexico to another. The variety of clothing, food, and cultural traditions is an aspect of Mexico that I find particularly fascinating. To see more of the dancers at the Day of the Dead fiesta, click here.

Beautifully gowned dancers at Day of the Dead Fiesta, Ajijic Plaza. Gowns like these would have been more typical of Mexico's 19th century upper  classes. As they dance, the women whirl and twirl their gowns in a dizzying display of color and movement.

Dancers at Chapala's Cultural Center.  The jarocho costumes of these dancers are from Veracruz, on Mexico's Gulf Coast. They show a mix of colonial Spanish and indigenous influences. For example, the white color of the costumes is related to the indigenous purification rituals of the area. 

Female dance troupe at Chapala Cultural Center. The costumes these women wear are from Yucatan. The white, embroidered tops are tunics called huipils and are worn over the red skirts. Huipils are worn by the women of Yucatan for daily activities, not just for "dress up" or for dance performances.  In fact, while walking the streets of Mérida, we marveled at the women sitting on the curb and selling vegetables while wearing beautiful white huipils. How they could keep the dresses so clean remains a mystery to us.

Cross-dressing stilt dancer at Carnaval (Mardi Gras), Veracruz. When we visited Veracruz during Carnaval, we never knew what would happen next. I was listening to some street musicians when this person suddenly appeared. S/he was unusual enough in appearance, but the spectacularly vigorous dance performance was entirely on stilts. The only other time I have seen stilt dancers was also during Carnaval, but in Chetumal, capital of the Yucatan peninsula state of Quintana Roo.

Spontaneous dancer at Carnaval, in Veracruz. This very large woman lunged into the center of things and began dancing to the marimba music played by these street musicians. Her spontaneous performance soon had the crowd clapping and cheering.

Dancers in Mérida, Yucatan. These young women were performing for our tour group at one of the hotels where we stayed on an early trip through Mexico. The young man who was our tour director had arranged for them to entertain us. I commented to him that working with such lovely young women must be one of the perks of his job. He grinned at me and said "it's a tough job, but somebody has to do it." There was a group of rather severe-looking older Mexican women sitting in the background, obviously the chaperones. No doubt, our young tour director had to handle his arrangements rather carefully.

This completes my posting on Mexican dancing. I hope you enjoyed it and, if so, please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments section, please include your email address so that I can respond in a timely manner.

Hasta luego, Jim