Tuesday, March 18, 2025

Valladolid Adventures Part 5: Templo San Servacio



Valladolid's Templo San Servacio is one of  the city's most recognizable features. Photos and paintings of the church appear everywhere. There are other colonial-era churches in Valladolid that are as old as this one, and some of them have interesting histories. However, none are as grand, beautifully proportioned, or are as historically important as San Servacio. The Templo stands opposite the south-eastern corner of the Parque Principal Francisco Candón Rosado, the main plaza of Valladolid. San Servacio's twin towers are visible from almost anywhere near the plaza.

In this posting, I'll first show you some of the interesting exterior features, before venturing inside to check out the mix of Baroque and Neo-Classical elements of the interior. As we move through the photos, I'll tell you the extraordinary history of the Templo. It is a story that goes back to the earliest days of the conquest of Yucatan and includes important events in the early 18th and the mid-19th centuries.

Exterior 

Main entrance of the Templo. It is framed by double pilasters on either side and an arched doorway, all decorated with a series of small crosses. Aside from these decorations, the rest of the facade is decidedly austere. The exterior of the church resembles some of the early-colonial "fortress churches" in central Mexico. This impression is confirmed by the two tall towers, one on either side of the facade. These contain narrow vertical openings forming gun slits as a defensive measure during recurrent periods of Maya unrest. At those times, the church was used as an actual fortress. I will talk about this further along in this posting.

The original church which once stood on this spot was demolished in 1705 and replaced by the one you see today. The former structure was built using stone from the large Zaci pyramid that once occupied the space where the Parque Principal is today. It is very probable that many of the limestone blocks originally looted from the Maya pyramid were salvaged in 1705 and re-used to build the current structure. I base this on the fact that the Spanish practice was to re-use building materials when they could. Quarrying, shaping, and transporting new limestone blocks from elsewhere would have been excessively expensive. 


Floral decorations cover the pilasters and the arch over the door. These decorative elements are among the few Baroque features of the otherwise austere exterior. The original Templo San Servacio was built on this site in 1545, after Valladolid was moved here from the city's original location a few miles to the north. The earlier church faced west, while the one you see today faces north. Why the original church was replaced and the new one geographically reoriented is a fascinating story. It involved sex, violence, politifcal intrigue, and retribution, all played out at the and of the 17th and the beginning of the 18th century. 

Near the end of the 17th century, a man named Fernando Hipólito de Osorno was appointed as Mayor, Lieutenant Governor, and Captain General of Valladolid. This was largely due to his close relationship with Pedro de los Reyes Rios del la Madrid, the Bishop of Mérida. As the story goes, Mayor Osorno was "a bright eye". This is another way of saying he was avid in his pursuit of beautiful women, regardless of any other relationship they might already have. As it turned out, the lady in question was the girlfriend of Miguel de Ruiz Ayuso, another important man. Ayuso felt that his honor had been outraged and he vowed revenge.


The twin towers viewed from the right rear. There are two levels on top of each tower and spaces for four bells on each level, amounting to sixteen bells in total. Quite a cacophony, if they all rang at once! There was at least one occasion when this actually happened, which I will relate later in the story of the church. The side walls of the church are more than 10m (30+ft) high, furthering the fortress appearance. Along with that are the circular openings in the railing along the top of the wall, which would have provided protection for marksmen should the church be attacked.

The jealous Miguel de Ruiz Ayuso also had political connections. These included Martin de Urzúa y Arizamenid, the Captain General of the Province of Yucatan. Ayuso claimed that Mayor Osorno had committed irregularities and mismanagement while in office. Osorno's friend and lawyer Pedro Gabriel de Covarrubias was also charged. Osorno was removed as Mayor and he was subsequently arrested and imprisoned on these fabricated charges. However, he soon escaped from the jail and took refuge in Templo San Servacio, where he was later joined by Covarrubias.


Rear of the church and a view of the circular wall surrounding the dome. The circular wall may have been intended to function as a last bastion, sort of like a castle's "keep". All these fortress features provide a sense of power, but also indicate an underlying insecurity and fear of attack. Except for the finials on the corners of the towers and atop of the railings and the circular walls, there are almost no decorative features.

Ayuso got his friend the Captain General of Yucatan to appoint him as Mayor of Valladolid.  For good measure, Ayuso's henchman Fernando de Tovar y Urquiola was made Second (Deputy) Mayor. Since the Middle Ages, the Catholic Church had traditionally offered sanctuary to fugitives. Ayuso chose to ignored this and, along with the Second Mayor, he incited and led a group of eight men to break into the TemploOsorno and Covarrubias were wounded and dragged out to the front of the church. There, Osorno was beaten to death. Covarrubias was then taken to the jail where he too was killed. Both men's bodies were hung from the jail's window. Ayuso had savagely restored his honor.


This door on the west side of the church was once the main entrance. Two pilasters support an arch over the wooden door. The pilasters and arch are decorated with a series of small crosses, but the walls surrounding them are covered with rough stone. This original entrance faced west because, ever since the 4th century AD, Catholic churches have been built with their main door facing west. This was so that worshipers who entered would be facing east, the direction that symbolizes renewal, warmth, and the light of Christ. West is the direction of the setting sun, darkness, gloom, and death. 

The murders, which were committed on July 12, 1703 are known as "the crime of the mayors". Osorno's benefactor, the Bishop of Mérida, was outraged not only by the crime, but by its commission within the Templo. Blood was actually splashed on the altar. He complained to the Viceroy in Mexico City, who then removed Ayuso's protector, the Captain General of Yucatan. Mayor Ayuso and his Second Mayor, along with the other perpetrators, were arrested and tried. One of the gang, Roque Gutiérrez, falsely testified that Osorno had tried to shoot him with a rifle. However, he was not believed and all were convicted.


Over the door is a relief carving of St. Peter and St. Paul. I at first thought the the object between them was a bell, but my friend Richard Perry, an expert on colonial Mexico's religious architecture, tells me  that it is a papal tiara. Richard further explained the objects each of the saints is carrying. St. Peter (left), is balancing a large key over his shoulder, symbolizing biblical passage where Jesus gives him the keys to heaven. St. Paul (right) holds a sword, symbolizing the "sword of the spirit, which is the word of God". Below them is the door's arch, on which you can see the small crosses I mentioned before.

All total, the investigation and trial of those who committed the "crime of the mayors" took almost two years from the date of the murders. At the urging of the Bishop of Mérida, Don Alvaro de Rivaguda was appointed by the Viceroy to replace the former Captain General of Yucatan. Finally, on May 28, 1705, Rivaguda hanged Ayuso and Tovar y Urquiola (the Second Mayor). The fate of the other perpetrators is not clear, but it is probable that they too were executed. 

That same year, the Bishop of Mérida ordered the demolition of the original Templo because it had been profaned by the murders. Before this, as penance, all the bells of the old church were vigorously rung, along with those in many of Valladolid's other churches. The orientation of the new church was changed from west to north so that the new altar would not be in the same place where the old one had been splashed with blood. To this day, the Templo is still known as "the church punished in Yucatan".

Interior

The nave, looking toward the retablo in the apse at the far end. While the retablo has some Baroque features, the rest of the nave is spare and simple. There are statues in the several niches along the walls, as well as side chapels with altars. Oddly, several descriptions in tourist literature speak of three naves, separated by columns. As you can see above, there is only one, with no columns. I have found many different errors in tourist literature over the years. It appears that an initial error will be copied and then re-copied by other writers, many of whom may never have actually visited a particular site. I work hard to make this blog as accurate as possible and always welcome corrections.

Following their initial subjugation by the Spanish in 1545, the Maya of the northeastern parts of the Yucatan Peninsula remained restive. This increased as time went by because of the seizure of the Maya's traditional lands to create haciendas and the mistreatment of the dispossessed people who sought work there. Ships of the time used large amounts of rope in their rigging and it was discovered in 1833 that hennequen fibre was excellent for that purpose. The fibre came from Yucatan's native sisal plant, which soon became a major product of the haciendas. This resulted in more land seizures with more discontent.


The retablo has six niches containing statues and a seventh with a sunburst. The only two statues I can definitely identify are Jesus on the cross in the bottom center and San Servacio in the niche just above. Three of the other statues are of women cradling infants and may represent various versions of the Virgin. The fourth statue, in the upper right, is of a male in clerical garb. Below the crucifix is a reliquary (container for holy relics), guarded by angels at either side of the retablo. As Churrigueresque retablos go, this one is fairly restrained in its decoration. 

By 1847, the situation in Yucatan was boiling. The Maya were gathering arms and supplies for a revolt and sought official recognition from the British. The non-Maya Yucatecos had, themselves, recently revolted against the government in Mexico City. On top of everything else, the Mexican-American War had broken out in 1846. Santiago Méndez, leader of Mérida's Yucatecos, decided to pre-empt a Maya revolt by seizing one of their key leaders and executing him in Valladolid. He also burned several Maya towns and arbitrarily executed many people. This was the flash point that started the Caste War of 1847-1933.

The Maya attacked on July 30, 1847, seizing Valladolid and laying seige to the cities of Mérida and Campeche. The Yucatecos of Mérida decided to evacuate but couldn't find paper for the official decree. During the delay, planting season arrived and the besieging Maya went home to tend their crops. Hardly believing their luck, Mérida's Yucatecos quickly made peace with the central Mexican government. Méndez then counterattacked, and took back Valladolid in 1848. Templo San Servacio was a focal point in the battle and one of Méndez' cannons is still located inside one of the church's two towers. However, the Caste War dragged on for many decades, with a final skirmish as late as 1933.


San Servacio is the central figure of the retablo. He is dressed in his bishop's robe and mitre (hat). In this right hand he holds a shepherd's crook, symbolizing his relationship with his Christian "flock". His left hand holds a key, a reference to a legend that St. Peter gave him the keys to heaven. The top of the niche behind him is scalloped, a symbol of Santiago  Apóstol (St. James the Apostle). Two columns frame the niche. The bottoms of these have Solomonic spirals which, along with the relief-carvings of foliage, provide some Churrigueresque touches.

San Servacio (St. Servatius) was a 4th century bishop who was born in Armenia on an unknown date and died in 384 AD in Maastricht, in today's Netherlands. He was the Bishop of Tongeren (today's Belguim), as well as being a diplomat. A participant in various Church Councils, he vocally opposed Arianism, a doctrine that denied the divinity of Christ. According to one legend, he was warned in a vision by St. Peter about the Hun invasion of Europe (370 AD). Fearing the destruction of Tongeren, Bishop Servacio rescued the holy relics from the Tongeren Cathedral and took them to Maastricht, where he eventually died. 
 

A pink-gowned Virgin Mary stands to the right of the rebablo. Below the Virgin's statue is a crescent moon, a symbol often associated with her. In Mexico, the Virgin of Guadalupe is he nation's Patron and is always shown standing on a crescent moon. In the Bible, there is a passage from Apocalypse 12:1 where St. John refers to "a woman clothed in the sun, and the moon was under her feet." In fact, images of a crescent moon occur in a variety of ancient religions, including the Babylonians and the Phoenicians. Luna, the Roman goddess of the moon, is sometimes shown with a crescent moon. 

In the 12th century AD, during the Crusades, Christians noted that one of the symbols of Islam was the crescent moon.  The ancient passage from Apocalypse then took on a new meaning. The crescent became associated with evil and began to appear under the feet of the Virgin as a symbol of defiance toward the hated rival religion. This gained even more emphasis after the famous victory of the Christian fleet over the Ottoman Muslims at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571.


Catholic images of Jesus are often full of gory details. This one is no exception. Images of other human or humanlike figures (angels for example) often seem somewhat bland and anodyne. Images of Jesus, by contrast, are usually incredibly detailed and often quite bloody. Look at the gaunt, half-starved figure above. The ribs and muscles and even the toenails are intricately detailed. Blood flows down from the wounds on his hands, feet, knees and forehead, as well as the wound on his side. The emphasis is on suffering. In the Presbyterian church that I attended while growing up, Jesus never appeared on the crosses displayed and he was often shown in peaceful settings, surrounded by children. As a non-religious person, I take no stand on which is the better image.

Although there was no explanatory sign, the statue above appears to be one of the famous corn-paste figures first produced in the 16th century by Purépecha craftsmen in Michoacan.  They were then sold to churches throughout Nueva España (Mexico). In pre-hispanic times there had been a long tradition of producing images of gods made of corn paste, and then carrying them about in religious processions. Bishop Vasco Quiroga of Michoacan persuaded a master craftsman, who was also converted pagan priest, to start making corn paste statues of Jesus in order to create a local industry, while also spreading the faith. 


Santo Niño de Atocha. The Holy Child of Antocha is shown above as he is usually depicted, wearing a brown cloak with a white lace collar and a blue gown. On his head is a broad-brimmed hat with a plume and he wears open sandals on his feet. Santo Niño carries a pilgrim's staff in one hand and a basket of bread (and flowers in this case) with the other. Attached to the staff is a gourd of water. The staff, gourd, and bread basket are an important part of his legend.

The legend of Santo Niño de Atocha grew out of the 700-year struggle between the Christians and the Muslims in Spain, known as the Reconquista (Re-Conquest). The Muslims had invaded in 711 and were finally driven out in 1492. In the 13th century, prior to their final defeat, the Muslims had captured Antocha, near modern Madrid, along with a large number of Christian war prisoners. Probably for security reasons, the Caliph ordered that only children under 12 years old could bring food to them. Prisoners without young children of their own were out of luck. Then a miracle happened.


A beautifully crafted altar stands in a side chapel. In front is a statue of Jesus, carrying the Crusader banner and raising his hand to the heavens. Behind him is the Virgin Mary, with a halo behind her head and cradling a cross in her arms. The style of this lovely wooden structure is clearly Neo-Classic.

In the 13th century, the Virgin of Antocha was revered by the local people of the town. With the community's childless men imprisoned and on the verge of starvation, the people knelt before the Virgin's statue, praying for her to ask her son Jesus for help. Soon, reports began to filter out of the prison camp that an unknown child under 12 was bringing food and water to the childless men. When the women of Atocha went to the church to thank the Virgin, people were amazed to see that the infants's sandals were worn and tattered. Thus began the legend of Santo Niño de Atocha.

Over time, more legends about Santo Niño circulated in Spain. There were reports of an unknown child who helped foodless travelers and offered to guide those who were passing through dangerous country. In 1554, the original statue of Santo Niño de Antocha was brought from Spain to Zacataecas, in Mexico. In Fresnillo, near Zacatecas, a silver mine exploded, trapping a group of miners. The miners' wives went to the church where the Santo Niño was kept and prayed for help. An unknown child then appeared to the miners and showed them the way out of the mine. Later, the statue in the church was found to be covered with mine dust! 

This concludes Part 5 of my Valladolid Adventures series. I hope you enjoyed the photos and history of the church and the legends about Santo Niño de Atocha. Please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments, please include your email address so that I can respond in a timely fashion.

Hasta luego, Jim























 

2 comments:

  1. A fascinating history Jim. A couple of comments: first the cathedral is not gothic in any sense. closer to Merida cathedral in style although with baroque elements.
    Second, the figures of Peter and Paul above the side door, the former holding his traditional keys, flank the papal tiara not a bell.
    Richard

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    1. Dear Richard, thanks for these corrections. Several of the sources I consulted referred to the church as gothic, but know your expertise, I will defer to your opinion. I would never have guessed the object between Peter and Paul was a tiara. Your interpretation that the object Peter is holding is a key makes more sense than a pipe wrench! Jim

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