Saturday, September 12, 2020

San Sebastian del Oeste Part 5 of 6: The Museum of Doña Conchita Encarnación

One of several display rooms in Museo Doña Conchita Encarnación. This is San Sebastian del Oeste's only museum, but it is packed with fascinating objects, documents, and photos from the days when the pueblo was a silver mining boomtown. The private museum was created in 1995 by Doña Conchita Encarnación, who ran it until 2009. Since then, it has been managed by her charming daughter, Maria Guadalupe Bermúdez Encarnación, who goes by the nickname "Lupita". Her family has been prominent in San Sebastian since the 18th century. (Photo from the website Sistema de Información Mexico)



Photo of San Sebastian, looking north, as it appeared in 1880. The rectangular Plaza Publica, bordered by trees, can be seen in the upper left quadrant. El Portal Morelos fills its north side. The museum is located to the east side of the plaza. The Encarnación family's history in San Sebastian began in 1770. That year, the first member of the family arrived from Spain to become the manager of the Santa Gertrudis mine. The house containing the museum was constructed in 1774, the same year as the Plaza Publica. It originally served as the office and home of the mine manager.  However, the land on which the house sits was once part of a hacienda that had been founded the previous century.


General Amado Aguirre Santiago was a highly decorated soldier and politician. He was born in San Sebastian in 1863 into the Aguirre family who, along with the Sánchez and Encarnación families, were  the wealthiest and most illustrious people of the town. The three families came to an agreement to intermarry only among themselves in order to avoid diluting their pure Spanish blood.  

This arrangement grew out of the rigid social hierarchy of colonial New Spain which continued into the early 20th century.  The goal was to keep pure-bred Spaniards on top. The result of the three families' agreement has been a complicated and rather astonishing set of relationships. 

Lupita's mother, Conchita Encarnación, was not only the wife of Lupita's father, but his aunt and cousin. Lupita's father was also her nephew, cousin, and uncle! These head-spinning relationships reminded me of the old Dennis Warner song "I am my own grandpa".


Some of the family cutlery, probably belonging to General Aguirre. Before the Mexican Revolution, Aguirre worked as a mining engineer for the first half of his life, but the rest of it was otherwise occupied. During the Revolution of 1910, he served under General Álvaro Obregón, who later became President of Mexico. General Aguirre's military posts included commander of Guadalajara, as well as governor and military commander of Quintana Roo and later of Baja California. 

His civilian positions included constituent deputy, member of the Senate, Under Secretary of Agriculture and Development, Secretary of Communications and Public Works, and Ambassador to Chile, Brazil, and Costa Rica. This includes only some of his amazing resume! San Sebastian del Oeste has honored General Aguirre by naming its main street after him.



Rocking chairs and other furnishings of the old house. The fine china on the table is typical of the sumptuous lifestyle enjoyed by the families of mine owners. Behind the table is a stand holding a small wash basin and a pitcher. In the 19th century, stands like this provided a way to wash up when indoor plumbing was absent.


A dead father is surrounded by his loving family. Photos like this were a 19th century tradition. The custom in San Sebastian was for the strongest men in the community to carry the body to the family porch and place it in a seated position. The eyelids were sometimes painted to give the appearance of life. The family would then gather around for a last photo before the body was put in a coffin and buried. It is probable that some of our modern customs associated with death would seem equally bizarre to a 19th century family.


Elaborately-studded chest from Spain. Long voyages and rough handling required that chests like this be strongly made. Notice the heavy lock, a requirement for security against thieves. Such chests could be used after arrival for storage of clothing and valuable items.


An eerie photo of Lupita's Great-Great-Grandmother Andrea. She arrived from Spain in 1777 as a young girl. The photo was taken when she was an old woman, many years later. It was not until I downloaded the picture from my camera into my computer's photo program that I was able to look closely at it. I was startled to see the two ghostly hands resting on Andrea's shoulders. There was no sign with the photo and I have no idea how this occurred. 


Mining Life 

Various members of the three families were engaged in the mining business. Some who worked directly in the business are shown above. These men would have been engineers and managers of their families' holdings. The attire of these men indicates that they lived in the 19th century. The first photographs in Mexico were taken only six months after the daguerreotype had been invented in 1839. However, photography did not become widespread in Mexico until the period of the French Intervention (1862-1867).


Entrance of one of the silver mines. The structure doesn't look terribly stable or sophisticated to me, but apparently it served its purpose. By 1785, at least 25 mines were operating around San Sebastian. The most important included Santa Gertrudis, Real de Oxtotipan, Los Reyes, Terronera, and La Quiteria. The office for Santa Gertrudis was located in what is now the museum. La Quiteria was operated by Hacienda Jalisco (see Part 2 of this series).


A mine worker drives a hole for explosives. The technology was pretty simple: a pointed iron bar and a sledge hammer. The life of a mine worker was difficult and dangerous, to say the least. He might start work before daylight and not emerge from the mine's mouth until long after sunset. His tools were the opposite of "labor-saving". His pay was better in the 17th century, when labor was scarce, but worsened toward the end of the 18th century, as the population increased. Low pay and poor working conditions in the mines were important factors leading to both  the War of Independence against Spain and the Revolution

Dangerous working conditions included mine dust, which could damage men's lungs, and tunnel collapses. The explosives used were sometimes unstable. Those who processed the ore faced a more insidious danger: mercury poisoning. Little was known of its toxicity until the last half of the 19th century. During the colonial period alone, Spain exported 50,000 tons of mercury to New Spain for silver processing. Two to four pounds of mercury were used to leach out one pound of silver from the ore. After 400 years of using the mercury process, the land around some old mining sites is still heavily contaminated.


Old mining pulley. Pulleys were first used to raise water from wells in 1500 BC in Mesopotamia. A device like this can allow a man to lift more weight than he could with simple muscle power. Several pulleys can be set up in an arrangement called a block and tackle which allows a single man to lift several times his own weight. 

However, in the early days of mining, human labor was cheaper and more available than mechanical devices. At the end of their shift, workers simply loaded a hundred pound sack of ore onto their shoulders and walked it out of the mine. This might involve climbing hand-over-hand up several levels on rickety wooden ladders. 


Remains of a furnace and chimney for processing silver. These ruins are similar to the furnace and chimney at Hacienda Jalisco, seen in Part 2 of this series. After the ore was removed from a mine, it was transported to one of several processing centers operated by mining haciendas. There, it was crushed and spread out in what is called the patio process. Mercury amalgamated with silver particles when it was poured over the crushed ore. 

This amalgamation would then be put into the furnaces where the mercury would burn off, leaving the silver to be collected and poured into molds for silver ingots. The mercury-soaked debris was then removed from the patios and dumped. This contaminated the soil and eventually the streams. The amalgamated mercury that burned off was carried away in smoke which was then breathed in by those in the surrounding area.


Wooden chest in which silver ingots were once stored. The silver ingots were transported in wooden chests from the processing centers to a building near the plaza. From there, they would be hauled by mule trains or by two-wheeled ox carts called carretas. The long journey to Spain followed the Camino Real (Royal Road) to Guadalajara, Mexico City, and the Gulf port of Vera Cruz.


Corner bastion protecting a silver storage warehouse. Bandit raids were always a risk in silver mining towns. Once the silver was processed into ingots, it was stored in this adobe building. The old photo above shows one of the cylindrical bastions located at the corners of building like this. There are gun slits at regular intervals just below the domed roof. The slits are situated so that riflemen inside can cover the exterior walls on either side of the bastion, as well as firing at attackers approaching directly.


Press for printing paper script used to pay mine workers. Ironically, for all the rich hoard of silver shipped out of San Sebastian, actual silver coinage was scarce. As a result, the mine workers were often paid with script redeemable for goods in local stores. Not surprisingly, the stores were often owned by the same people who controlled the mines. 

This completes Part 5 of my San Sebastian del Oeste series. I hope you have enjoyed it. 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 leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim
















 

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

San Sebastian del Oeste Part 4 of 6: Cafetelera La Quinta Mari

Entrance to Cafetelera La Quinta Mari. The cafetelera (country house) has been owned by the same family for five generations. They grow and process artesanal coffee of the highest quality. After we visited Hacienda Jalisco (see Part 3 of this series), we stopped by to see their coffee operation and sample some of their products. As is usual in Mexico, the welcome was warm and we were given free rein to wander about. 

La Quinta Mari can be found on right side of the main road as you enter San Sebastian. If you reach the old stone bridge known as El Puente Recto (the Straight Bridge), you have gone too far. To locate La Quinta Mari on a Google map, click here.


The Owners of La Quinta Mari

The founders are shown here in this old family photo. The Sánchez family has owned and operated La Quinta Mari since the 19th century. The current owners are Rafael, his wife Rosa, and his sister Lola. The father of Rafael and Lola married very young, when he was only 15. The marriage lasted 68 years and produced 21 children. However, Rafael's grandfather set the family record with 28 children, although some of them were by several mistresses.


The cafetelera's rear arcade overlooks a grove of coffee trees. The old building dates back 122 years to 1898, when it was a farm producing food and other products for San Sebastian del Oeste when it was a mining town. The Revolution of 1910 was the beginning of the end of silver mining in the area. The last of the foreign-owned mining companies departed in 1921. San Sebastian's population of 30,000 shrank until only a semi-ghost town of 600 people remained. 


Comfortable chairs and benches line the rear arcade. Faced with San Sebastian's disastrous decline, the Sanchez generation headed by Rafael and Lola's grandfather cast about for some way to keep their farm going. In the 1930s, they discovered that the area has the ideal climate and altitude to grow "altura" coffee, the very best kind. Coffee had arrived in Mexico in 1796, but until the early 20th century, most of it was grown in Vera Cruz, Chiapas, and Oaxaca. The Sánchez family demonstrated that it could be successfully raised in the cool, high mountains of Jalisco's coastal range.


Ox yoke from when the property grew crops that needing plowing. I found this hanging on the wall of the arcade. For some reason, yokes like this are very popular items of decoration at many of the old haciendas I have visited. Although this is unquestionably an antique, I still see farmers plowing their fields with a pair of oxen or horses when I travel Mexico's back country roads.


A cow skull and a gourd container decorate a pillar. The use of gourds as containers for fluids dates back to Paleolithic (Old Stone Age) times. While hiking, I have often found the skeletons of cattle along mountain trails and in famers' fields. In Mexico, large animals like cattle or horses sometimes die in remote spots. Their carcasses are usually left for scavengers, leaving only the skull and some scattered bones. Upon occasion, I have found an interesting cow skull and brought it home as a hiking trophy. Carole's reaction is usually "Don't you dare bring that nasty thing into the house". The most recent of such treasures now resides in a corner of my carport.


A bandolier-strapped soldadera rides into town with her fellow revolutionaries. The photo above is one of several from the Revolution hanging on the cafetelera's walls. Notice that she is riding side-saddle, a position that must have been difficult to maintain during a cavalry charge. Soldaderas were female soldiers who fought in battles all across Mexico between 1910 and the early 1920s. 

They are sometimes called Adelitas, after the famous corrida sung by soldiers around their campfires. The song celebrates a beautiful young soldadera, who was the lover of a sergeant in one of the regiments. Although she is portrayed romantically in the song, soldaderas proved themselves to be as fierce and ruthless as any male soldier. Some commanded all-female units and others even commanded regiments of men.


La Quinta Mari's coffee process

A rustic work shed nestles among the groves of coffee and fruit trees. La Quinta Mari maintains 11 acres of trees to produce its altura coffee. The coffee that carries this label is considered to be of the highest quality. It must come from trees that are grown in regions higher than 950m (3117ft). Given that the altitude of San Sebastian del Oeste is 1480m (4856ft), it easily qualifies. Altura coffee has a strong but pleasant odor and a taste that is better than that of coffee from trees grown at lower altitudes.


Coffee beans come from berries like those seen above. The coffee berries are harvested by hand when they have attained a cherry red color. The entire operation is organic, with no use of chemicals for pesticides or fertilizer. The trees are composted with the recycled waste from the processing. There are two kinds of coffee beans grown here, arabic (80%) and robust (20%). 


Dried coffee beans with their husks await cleaning. Once collected, the berries are spread out in the sun for approximately 22 days. During this time they are regularly raked so that they dry evenly. They are ready for further processing when the moisture level drops to 11%. They are then cleaned manually, separating the beans from the dried husks that covered them. The beans are then fermented for 24 to 48 hours.


Coffee roaster, looked after by the household dog. Roasting is the most delicate part of the process. It is at this stage that the coffee beans obtain the aroma and flavor that produce a fine cup of coffee. The roasting process brings the beans to an internal temperature of about 400F. This releases caffeol, a fragrant oil within the beans. This initiates a process called pyrolysis, the key to the aroma and flavor.


Packaged beans and other coffee-related items are displayed for sale. Our group crowded around this table and relieved it of much of its wares. The bag of coffee I brought home from this trip made our stop at La Quinta Mari especially memorable.

This completes Part 4 of my San Sebastian del Oeste series. I hope you have enjoyed it. 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 leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim

Saturday, August 8, 2020

San Sebastain del Oeste Part 3 of 6: Templo San Sebastian Martir


The entrance of Templo San Sebastian Martir. This is the parroquia (parish church) of San Sebastian del Oeste. The church stands just behind El Portal Morelos which forms the north side of Plaza Publica. Because the steeple is the tallest structure in town, the church is easy to find. To locate it on a Google map, click here.

When I do a blog series on a colonial pueblo, I nearly always include a posting on the churches. From the earliest colonial times, Catholicism has been central to Mexico's social, economic, and architectural development. The first twelve Franciscan friars arrived in 1524, only two years after the fall of the Aztecs. They were followed by the Dominicans in 1526 and the Augustinians in 1533.
 


View of the Templo from a hill on the west side of town. The church was built by the Augustinian Order in 1608. The construction was supervised by the Augustinian priest Fray Sevando Alonso Poco Sangre, but the actual work was done by indigenous Teco laborers conscripted from the nearby village of Hostotipac.  The church was founded only three years after the area around Hostotipac was re-named Real de San Sebastian to designate it as a mining district.

The work of the Tecos (also known as the Cuyuteco) may have been a donation by a local Spaniard to whom they owed free labor under the encomienda system. Alternatively, the Augustinians may have made an arrangement with royal officials for native labor under the repartimiento system. Whichever method was used, it is almost certain that none of the physical work would have been done by a colonial Spaniard. For a description of the ecomienda and repartimiento forced labor systems, see Part 2 of this series.



The rear of the Templo and the gate to the churchyard. This is one of the oldest sections of a structure that was remodeled numerous times and substantially rebuilt at least once, after an earthquake. While exploring the town, my friend Jim B and I accessed the church through this gate, located just behind the east end of El Portal Morelos

Following the military conquest of the area, the Tecos of Hostotipac were forced to give up their native religion and convert to Catholicism. This was known as the Spiritual Conquest. Those who "backslid" and covertly continued to practice their ancient religion were severely punished. The Tecos responded by hiding images of their ancestral gods within the walls of the Templo they were building. This enabled them to silently pray to their old gods while outwardly following the rituals of the Spanish priests. According to one legend, this led to dire consequences.

Apparently one of the priests discovered this "devil worship" and followed the offending Tecos to where they worked. At the mouth of the mine, he took off his sandals and clapped them together, while pronouncing a curse on the workers. The mine's roof immediately collapsed, killing some and permanently trapping the rest. As the story goes, on stormy nights their screams can still be heard. In addition, the spirits of the Teco miners haunt the church each year on Holy Friday.



A statue of the Virgin of Guadalupe stands in the church atrium. The propagation of the legend of the Virgen de Guadalupe was one of the great breakthroughs in Spanish colonial evangelism. This was the first apparition of the Virgin Mary in the New World. The event was especially important to indigenous people because she was dark-skinned and spoke Nahuatl, the language shared by many different native groups, including the Tecos. Further, the person who encountered her was a recently-converted Aztec who participated in several miracles attributed to her. 

Because of these unusual circumstances, and because she was encountered at the ruined temple of the Aztec goddess Tonantzin, the Virgin of Guadalupe became the subject of a rather bitter debate within the early colonial Church. The Augustinian and Dominican friars wanted to accept her as legitimate. On the other hand, the Franciscans denounced her as a fraud and a covert way to worship Tonantzin. In the end, the Augustinians and Dominicans prevailed because voluntary native conversions skyrocketed after word of her miraculous appearance spread rapidly through the native population. Practicality triumphed over purity.



The nave of the Templo. This area of a church is called a nave ("ship" in Spanish) because the arched ceiling resembles the interior of the upturned hull of a ship. At the far end of the nave is the main altar, while the walls on either side contain religious statues and paintings. The person approaching the altar is Jim B. While parts of the exterior of the church still retain the original 17th century Baroque style, the interior displays the Neo-Classical style that became popular in the 18th and 19th centuries. 

In 1810, after the church had been in use for more than 200 years, a local priest named Remigio Sánchez Porres, complained that its condition was "not only indecent, but useless." Eight years later, in 1818, he directed the Templo's first modifications. By then, Baroque had long gone out of style, so the remodeling was done in Neo-Classic. Fifty years later, in 1868, a strong earthquake nearly destroyed the structure, so even more of the old Baroque features were replaced by Neo-Classic.



View toward the rear of the church showing the ceiling and choir loft. While Neo-Classic architecture can sometimes be ornate, Baroque tends toward over-the-top extravagance, with every square inch of available space covered with decorative elements.

In 1871, further deterioration resulted in still another remodel. The erection of the steeple in 1884 added an entirely new feature. This was followed, in 1886, with the  completion of the frontispiece (entrance facade). A final touch was added in 1897, when the ribbed vaults over the nave were constructed. That all these changes could be afforded in the 19th century is a testament to the wealth pouring out of the mines.



The central figure of the main altar is a statue of San Sebastian. Usually, the person to whom a Mexican church is dedicated will occupy the central place on its main altar. Most often, this will be the Virgin Mary or one of the saints. Here, San Sebastian appears both as a statue in a glass case, as well as in the mural above the altar. The Neo-Classic features of the altar include tall corinthian columns, topped by ornate capitals, supporting a triangular pediment. On either side of the altar are pilasters (false columns) which are decorative and not meant to carry any weight. 

If this were a Baroque altar, there would be many more niches filled with statues and paintings and the columns would be in the spiraling Solomonic style. Every square inch of wall space would be filled with floral carvings with the faces of numerous cherubs peeking out. It is probably that just such a highly decorated altar occupied this space before Remigio Sánchez Porres ordered the 1818 remodel. 



The mural above the main altar shows the martyrdom of San Sebastian. Although I am not Catholic and not even religious, I have always been fascinated by the stories associated with the Church's almost innumerable saints. San Sebastian is one of the more unusual saints because he was martyred twice. It seems the first one didn't take. Sebastian lived from 256-288 AD, during the late Roman Empire. This was a period when Christians endured severe repression by the Roman authorities. 

Sebastian was a captain in the Emperor Diocletian's Praetorian Guard when he secretly converted to Christianity. His religious activity was discovered however, and Diocletian ordered him tied to a tree and shot full of arrows. The result of his first martyrdom can be seen in the mural above. However, his executioners left before he was dead and a woman living nearby rescued him and nursed him back to health. Once he had recovered, Sebastian decided to give martyrdom another try. He waited in the street until the Emperor came by in a procession and publicly denounced the repression of Christians. 

Diocletion was, no doubt, surprised at this sudden resurrection of an executed man. At his order, Sebastian was seized, beaten to death, and his body thrown in a sewer. This time the Emperor's effort was successful. In the Middle Ages, people began to believe that San Sebastian could offer protection against plagues. The history of such beliefs dates back to the ancient Greco-Roman tradition that the god Apollo could halt plagues. This belief in this miraculous ability was later transferred by Medieval Europeans to San Sebastian. Spanish Catholics then carried the stories with them to plague-ridden colonial Mexico, where San Sebastian became very popular.



A pulpit stands on one side of the nave. This position is typical in Catholic churches. Protestant churches, in contrast, have the pulpit at the front of the nave. The term "pulpit" comes from the Latin pulpitum, meaning platform or staging. It is a raised platform, reached by a set of stairs, from which sermons or other important liturgical statements are made. 

Often the pulpit will be hexagonal, as is the one above, with each panel highly decorated. Catholic pulpits tend to have small, separate roofs above them, often in the same hexagonal shape. The little roofs are not just decorative, but help amplify the voice of the speaker. Pulpits are believed to have their origins in ancient Jewish synagogues, where they were called bemahs



A statue of San José holding Jesus stands in one of the side panels of the nave. Very little is said about José in the Bible, so most of his legend comes from later writings. José, a humble carpenter, married the already-pregnant Mary so save her life. At the time, the punishment for pregnancy outside of marriage was to be stoned to death. José planned to quietly divorce her after she gave birth. However, he changed his mind after an angel tipped him off as to the real nature of the infant she was carrying. 

José is mentioned in the Bible only a few other times and then only in two of the four Gospels. All the rest of the many stories about him were invented centuries later. San José is the Patron of Mexico and some other countries. In 1870, he was declared Patron of the whole Catholic Church. During the 20th century San José became entangled in international politics. This occurred in 1955 when Pope Pius XII declared May 1 as the Feast Day of San José. The Pope's aim was to create a counter-celebration to oppose the traditional May 1 International Workers' Day.

This completes Part 3 of my San Sebastian del Oeste series. I hope you have enjoyed it. If you would like to leave any thoughts or comments, please do so in the Comments section below, or email me directly. If you leave a question in the Comments box, PLEASE leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim



Wednesday, July 29, 2020

San Sebastian del Oeste Part 2 of 6: Hacienda Jalisco provides a peek into of Mexico's silver mining history


View of the casa grande. Hacienda Jalisco is a well-preserved example of San Sebastian del Oeste's old haciendas which processed silver and gold throughout the area. My friends and I visited this lovely site during our trip to this old pueblo, the original name of which was Real de San Sebastian. The term Real  (Royal) was a colonial designation for a mining district. The pre-hispanic name of the area, in the Nahuatl language of the Teco people who lived there, was Hostipac.

This posting will focus on the casa grande and its outbuildings, as well as some of the work areas. Very few documents about Hacienda Jalisco have survived the tumultuous years of the Mexican Revolution. To fill in the gaps and provide some context, I am including a brief history of Mexican gold and silver mining from the time of the Conquest through the Mexican Revolution. I will also describe Hacienda Jalisco's mid-20th century transformation from a semi-ruin into a rustic getaway for Hollywood stars.


The approach

The hacienda's long, cobblestone driveway is lushly lined with ferns. To get to Hacienda Jalisco, follow Highway 544 (either from Mascota or Puerto Vallarta) to the pueblo of La Estancia. There, signs from either direction point you to the turnoff to San Sebastian del Oeste, which is 9.2 km (5.7 mi) away. The hacienda is located on the western outskirts of San Sebastian. The turnoff is easy to miss, so look for this sign approximately 1 km (0.62 mi) before reaching San Sebastian.

In 1519, Hernán Cortéz and his Conquistadores arrived in Mexico, which in colonial times was called Nueva España. Their first priority was to gather up all the gold, silver, and precious stones upon which they could lay their hands. At a distant second and third place were the conquest of new lands for the Spanish King and Christianizing the "heathen." Cortéz and his men were freebooters and adventurers as much as they were Spanish soldiers.


The driveway passes across a stone bridge, before arriving at the hacienda's main gate. The structure on the left is the gate house, now the home of the caretaker's family. To the right of the gate is the rear of the casa grande. The silver ore processed here came from mines further up the mountainside. The resemblance to a castle's drawbridge and gate is probably no accident. The refined silver needed protection from bandits. Men firing from the gatehouse window and the casa grande's rear balcony could easily forestall an attack from this direction.

At the time the Spanish arrived, the Aztecs had only recently become familiar with metal working. They had initially acquired gold and silver jewelry through tribute from subject populations such as the Mixtecs of Oaxaca. Over time, some of the metal working artisans from those areas migrated to the Aztec cities to join the burgeoning artisan class. Another source was trade with the metal-working peoples of Western Mexico, never subjugated by the Aztecs, who had acquired their skills from the metal-working cultures of northwestern South America. Cortéz carefully studied the Aztec Emperor's tribute records and questioned the traveling Aztec merchants, called pochteca. Using those sources as a guide, he dispatched expeditions in all directions, seeking the mines that produced the precious metals. 



View of the bridge from the casa grande's balcony. Underneath it flows a shallow stream that once played a part in powering ore processing machinery. As you can see, a rifleman in this position could easily cover the bridge approach to the gate. The stream itself forms a kind of moat in front of the hacienda's wall. Today, long tendrils of ferns dangle from the bridge as the stream tranquilly burbles beneath it.

In 1524. an expedition under the command of Francisco Cortéz, nephew of Herñan, stopped briefly in the area of San Sebastian. They found little of interest in the rugged, heavily forested mountains and soon passed on to the fertile valley of Mascota. Expeditions to other areas were somewhat more successful. They found and seized indigenous mines, but these yielded only modest amounts of precious metals. Finally, in 1534, rich silver veins were discovered at Pachuca, north of Mexico City, and at Taxco, in the mountains south of Cuernavaca. These discoveries set off stampedes of Spaniards to those areas and whetted Spanish appetites for more expeditions ever further afield.


The gate and gatehouse, viewed from the front balcony of the casa grande. When the hacienda was in operation, the gate house probably functioned as an office and/or a tienda de raya (company store), as well as living quarters for the gatekeeper.

Most of the early discoveries of precious metals occurred in the central and southern parts of Mexico, areas which had long been settled by the civilized people of pre-hispanic Mexico. However, the northern territories were composed of rugged mountain ranges and vast deserts. They were thinly populated by a people whom the Aztecs called the Chichimeca, a catchall term for a group of fierce nomadic tribes. For millennia, these nomads had raided and even invaded the southern civilizations.  

In short, the northern territories were a forbidding environment full of danger. As a result, it was not until 1540 that Francisco Coronado set out to look for the fabled Seven Cities of Cibola, reputed to be filled with gold. After an epic journey involving great hardship, Coronado and his men finally reached central Kansas, but found nothing but vast, empty plains.



We were welcomed to the hacienda by Blanca, our hostess. She and her family live in the gatehouse and act as caretakers. Blanca greeted us with a wonderfully warm smile. We gladly paid her the modest entry fee of $20 pesos (89 cents USD). After that, she gave us free run of the place for as long as we liked. It must have been a slow day because there were no visitors other than our party. We never encountered Blanca's husband, but we could tell she had kids from the children's clothes drying on a line stretched across the front of the gatehouse.

Several more expeditions followed Coronado's abortive venture. Finally, in 1546, a Basque noble named Juan de Tolosa arrived near today's Zacatecas. There, he encountered a group of native people who presented him with a nugget he recognized as silver ore. This immediately set off a new mining stampede and Real de Zacatecas was founded in that same year. The mines proved to be almost unbelievably rich. Even today, Zacatecas produces 53% of Mexico's silver and 21% of its gold

Over the thirty years following Tolosa's discovery, more silver and gold were discovered in areas to the north and west of Zacatecas. The frenzied search for mineral riches continued. Later in the 16th century, rich silver veins were discovered in Guanajuato and San Luis Potosi, as well as many smaller discoveries elsewhere. Ironically, the bulk of the bullion produced by Nueva España's mines was shipped to Spain, causing chronic shortages of currency throughout the colonial period.


The Casa Grande's exterior

The casa grande from the caretaker's vegetable garden. The two-story building has an arcade along the front, supported by arched portales. Above the arcade is a 2nd story balcony, also running the length of the structure. Its four doors open into bedrooms. There is an identical balcony on the rear. In front of the casa grande is a broad, cobblestone courtyard where some of the ore processing work was done.

Spanish prospectors had discovered silver and gold at Hostipac (San Sebastian) in 1542. However, it was not until 1605 that the boomtown was given the name Real de San Sebastian to designate it as a mining district. By then, many mine shafts had penetrated the mountainsides and haciendas to process the ore were well-established in the narrow valley 

The term hacienda comes from the Spanish verb hacer, which means to do or make something. Mining was the core function of many early Mexican haciendas, including Hacienda Jalisco. Sometimes crops or livestock were raised at mining haciendas, but mostly these were for the use by the hacienda itself, rather than being offered for sale. 



Our group took a break along the casa grande's front arcade. The gatehouse can be seen through the arch at the end. Almost everyone on this trip is a veteran of the monthly day-trips that I organize to search out Jalisco's old haciendas. Many of them are also fellow hikers. Needless to say, this is an adventurous group!

The pursuit of wealth through mining has shaped the economic, political, and social history of Mexico from the earliest days of the Conquest. Even religion was impacted. An early Franciscan evangelist once remarked that "where there is no silver, there is no Bible." By this, he meant that exploration and settlement in pursuit of mining wealth created an environment within which friars like himself could safely evangelize the newly subdued tribes in the areas around the strikes. 

Even as the evangelizing missions sprouted like mushrooms, so did grain and livestock haciendas. Leather from cattle hides was an essential part of mining machinery and mules provided the power. In addition, the mine workers needed food and other daily necessities. Many haciendas were established near the mining communities to fill these needs. 


An open gate leads to a cobblestone walkway along the side of the casa grande. Everything about this place feels warm and welcoming. Before exploring the inside of the casa grande, I decided to examine the exterior.

Long caravans of mules and ox-carts transported the silver along the Camino Royal (Royal Road). This route led to Guadalajara and from there to Mexico City and on to the Gulf port of Vera Cruz for shipment to Spain. Caravans moving in the other direction brought goods, often imported from Spain, that couldn't be produced in the mining areas. 

In order to protect these caravans from hostile Chichimeca and bandits, Spanish authorities established military posts along the routes. Enterprising Spaniards then founded new haciendas to supply the outposts and caravans with food, draft animals, riding horses, and other necessities. Some of these posts, like  Aguascalientes, later became major cities and the capitals of Mexican states.



Rear view of the casa grande from the patio. The rear mimics the front, with a ground-level arcade supported by six pillars and a second floor balcony. Both run the length of the building. A stairway leads up from the arcade to the second floor. This appears to be the only way to reach the rooms on the top floor. The patio area would probably have been used for domestic tasks such as clothes washing, corn shelling, and grinding the kernels into flour for tortillas.

From the Conquest through the Revolution, there were close relationships among the mines, the haciendas raising food and animals, and the city-based mercantile establishments. Each depended symbiotically on the others both as customers and suppliers. From the 16th through the 19th centuries, they were the three primary routes to wealth, unless you count the graft and self-dealing associated with Royal Officials and the Church. However, all through this time, the most important source of wealth was bullion from the mines. 


View of the patio from the second floor's rear balcony.  The circular fire-pit was probably added when the property was transformed into a rustic hotel. The one-story building in the background contains rest rooms, but fulfilled other functions in mining times, possibly including workshops and storage. 

The relationship between the mines, haciendas, and mercantile establishments was not just economic but social. Typically, a young man from a good but penurious family in Spain might seek his fortune in Nueva España. Quite often, he would carry a letter from his father to a relative or friend who was a merchant in Mexico City. If he was industrious, he might set up his own store after a few years clerking. Such businesses often supplied the mines, requiring periodic visits to the mining districts. There, the young man would meet the mine owners and might invest some of his store's profits in one of their operations. 

As his wealth grew, the man would to look around for a suitable wife. His ready access to cash would make him quite attractive to a land-rich but debt-ridden hacienda owner with unmarried daughters. As a dowery, his new father-in-law might provide some land, or even a whole hacienda. When his father-in-law passed on, the young man might gain control of even more land. The acquisition of a large estate was always attractive to up-and-coming Spaniards. Land-ownership was equated with membership in the gentry and hacendados who won favor with the King could sometimes even enter the nobility. This path of social advancement was fairly typical during the period from the 16th through the 19th centuries. 



The front balcony is virtually identical with the one in the rear. At the far end of the balcony, my friend Jerry takes a picture of his wife Lori. They regularly appear in a YouTube series called Jerry Brown Travels which has gained a considerable international following.

The people who worked in the mines or processed the ore were recruited in a variety of ways. In the early years, many were slaves. Almost from the moment Hernán Cortéz landed in 1519, he enslaved native people to work as porters and cooks for his army. Some of the women were taken as sex slaves for the soldiers. 

After they overthrew the Aztecs, the Spanish put their slaves to work on a wide variety of tasks. In fact, the lowliest Spanish soldier considered himself an hidalgo (gentleman) and therefore superior to any indigenous person. Given their new status, and the ready availability of slaves, Spaniards at all levels eschewed physical work. As the gold and silver mines developed, somebody had to work them and many slaves ended up there. Naturally, all this led to gross abuses. 


Inside the Casa Grande

The Great Room of the casa grande. Here, the hacendado and his family would have entertained guests and passing travelers. The large fireplace built into the far corner of the room would have provided warmth and light. The door on the left leads to the rear arcade and the patio area.

By 1542, the abuses of native slaves were rampant. Protests by evangelizing friars finally reached the King and slavery of indigenous people from the pacified areas was abolished. This was greatly resented by the conquistadores, as well as all the relatives and other hangers-on who began pouring in once the dust of the Conquest had settled. Often, the King's edicts were resisted, subverted, or simply ignored. In fact, the last vestiges of indigenous slavery in Mexico did not disappear until the beginning of the 20th century.  

Another system of forced labor, called the encomienda, was also in use during the 16th and early 17th centuries. An encomienda was intended as a royal reward to Spaniards who had served in the Conquest. The holder of an encomienda, called an encomendero, would promise to teach Christianity to a group of native people and in return could demand tribute from them, including free labor.  Often, the people subject to an encomienda were rented out by the encomendero to work in the mines. While the King regularly promulgated new edicts against abuses of the encomienda system, the rules were often resisted or flouted. 



An anthropomorphic pot sits on the floor of the Great Room. Archeologists refer to an object as "anthropomorphic" when it has been crafted to show human characteristics. The style is that of the Shaft Tomb Culture found in the Mexican states of Colima, Jalisco, and Nayarit. The culture got its name from the long shafts they would dig straight down into the volcanic soil, with one or more funeral chambers at the bottom. Some very early shaft tombs have been found in the Mascota Valley, not far from San Sebastian del Oeste. The pot shown above may be authentic, but is probably a reproduction.

What really curtailed slavery and the encomienda system were the great epidemics that decimated the indigenous population from the earliest days of the Conquest through the middle of the 17th century. These included smallpox, influenza, measles, and other European diseases from which the native people had no natural immunity. In many areas, the indigenous population plummeted by 90%. Entire villages were wiped out, depopulating large swaths of the countryside. The result was an acute labor shortage that brought many mining operations to a halt, and depressed much of the rest of Nueva España's economy. 

The Spanish adopted several methods for solving their labor problem. Since the King's anti-slavery edicts applied only to native people in pacified areas, Chichimeca war captives from the un-pacified areas were put to work in the mines. However, Spanish officials complained that the fiercely independent Chichimeca often did not make good workers. Imported African slaves were also exempt from the King's edicts and the mine owners put them to work. Since they adapted more readily than the Chichimeca, many African slaves ended up in the mines. 



An old-fashioned wood stove fills one wall of the kitchen. The four square holes along the front were for feeding wood into the fire. The smaller holes along the top were where pots were placed. I have seen similar stoves in hacienda ruins all over Jalisco.

Another labor source was the repartimiento. This institution transformed the right to demand forced labor into a state function, taking it out of the hands of individual encomenderos. The repartimiento was less abusive than the encomienda because there were time limits on the work that could be demanded. Further, wages were required, although they were substantially less than those paid to free workers. Finally, the repartimiento could only be exercised over villages within a 20 league radius (83.6 km or 52 mi) of a mine. However, since the royal officials who ran the repartimiento system were often friends, relatives, or even partners of the mine owners, there were many opportunities to abuse the system. This most often occurred in regions far removed from the seats of royal authority.



The windows were tall and could be covered by wood shutters. Notice how thick the walls are. The material under the plaster is adobe, an excellent insulator. A house with walls like this would be cool in the summer and could be kept comfortably warm in winter.

Repeated epidemics and abusive work conditions reduced the pool of  forced laborers, although both slave labor and the repartimiento continued for a time. As mine owners increasingly turned to free workers, that method of mine recruitment became dominantMost of the free workers were mestizos (mixed Spanish and indigenous) who were rapidly increasing in numbers. Since they were neither of African descent nor pure indigenous, the mestizos were not subject to slavery or the repartimiento. 

In the 17th century and the first part of the 18th, the lot of free mine workers was fairly good. The demand for labor was such that they could command decent wages. If they didn't like the offer, or considered the working conditions abusive, they could sign up at another mine or even take off for another mining district. They were a highly mobile work force.



The master bedroom is one of several on the second story. The old wooden lintel over the door may be original to the house. When the hacendado and his wife visited Hacienda Jalisco on periodic inspection tours, this is where they would spend the night. Hacendados quite often did not live full-time on their properties. They typically preferred the comforts and culture of the city and would usually employ a professional administrator to run the mining operation.

As new mines cropped up all over northern Mexico, owners scrambled to attract free workers. As an employment incentive, mine workers were even offered a share of the ore they produced. The requirement for a normal day's pay was to fill a 100 lb "quota bag" during the work shift. Once the bag was filled, the mine worker could keep half of any additional ore that he produced . This was called the "partido". The arrangement not only increased a worker's income but it became a matter of status and pride. Those who were entitled to the partido considered themselves part owners of the mine, or at least of its production.



A ornate fireplace provided warmth for the hacendado's bedroom. Notice the pair of tall human figures that frame the fireplace opening. Fireplaces like this are the only way of heating the casa grande's rooms. However, the mild climate doesn't require extra heat very often.

In the 18th century, conditions for mine workers began to worsen. A chronic problem in operating the mines was the royal monopoly on mercury. In the mid-16th century, much of Nueva España's high-grade silver ore had been exhausted and mine profits sagged. An enterprising Spaniard revived silver mining by introducing the mercury amalgamation process, which enabled lower-grade ore to be processed profitably. This produced a new boom and, by 1785, San Sebastian had 30 mines, with 10 haciendas to process the gold and silver ore.

The King wanted to maintain control of mining and keep his coffers full, so he established a royal monopoly on mercury. This forced mine owners to import it from royal stockpiles in Spain, significantly raising their cost of production. The problem became even more acute problem when Spanish shipping was disrupted during the episodic European warfare of the 17th and 18th centuries. Periodic mercury shortages resulted in mine shutdowns that were disastrous for mine workers and their families. 




A painted decorative frieze follows the line of the ceiling. This is a typical feature of 19th century haciendas. The design imitates carved medallions in wooden wainscoting.

The population recovery that occurred between the mid-17th and mid-18th centuries also created problems for mine workers. More people meant more competition for mining jobs. As a result, wages stagnated even as living expenses began to rise. The owners experienced cost increases of their own and responded by cutting wages and reducing or even eliminating the partido. 

Loss of the partido was a blow to both the income and the pride of mineworkers. In 1766, a mine owner's arbitrary reduction of the partido resulted in the very first labor strike in the Americas. The conflict occurred at the mines of Real de Monte in the state of Hidalgo. Key issues of the strike, in addition to the partido reduction, were wage cuts and dangerous working conditions. Workers in many other mining districts had similar grievances. Conditions continued to worsen as the the 18th century ended and the 19th began. Worker demands for improvements were met with repression by the owners, in collusion with local officials who were often their friends or even relatives.


Old ore processing remains

This massive old millstone lies in the parking area in front of the casa grande.  It was probably part of the machinery used to crush the ore brought down from mines which were located further up the mountainside. 

When the War of Independence broke out in 1810, mine workers were among the first to join the revolt. Early in the struggle, insurgents besieged the Alhondiga, a Spanish fort in the mining town of Guanajuato. A mine worker nicknamed El Pipila became a national hero by crawling through intense gunfire to set fire to the main gate of the Alhondiga, enabling its capture. Today, a huge statue of El Pipila overlooks the city and commemorates his feat. 

The independence struggle lasted from 1810 to 1821. Many mines were left in ruins or abandoned. Those that remained often operated with antique technology. Following the war, foreign investors began taking over Mexico's mines and this trend continued all through the 19th and into the early 20th century. 

In 1876, Porfirio Diaz began his the 35-year rule by welcoming foreign investment in all areas of the economy, including mining. Although machinery and refining processes were modernized by the new investors, a mine worker's job remained hard, dangerous, and poorly compensated. The days of well-paid miners proudly sharing in ore profits became a distant memory. 



The remains of the chimney for the ore ovens. The whole structure extends a number of yards in either side of the chimney. There are many openings along the low wall that were apparently used to feed in wood. The chimney and ovens form the east side of the parking area in front of the casa grande

The silver and gold mines of San Sebastian, including Hacienda Jalisco, were among those that received large infusions of foreign capital. Because of the turmoil and destruction that occurred during the Mexican Revolution, only a few records remain to tell us about Hacienda Jalisco. However, it is known that between 1885 and 1899, the mine manager was a man named Vicente Yaroni. San Sebastian's archives also reveal some of the improvements the foreign investors implemented. These included hydro-electic power from the stream that flows under the entrance bridge and installation of one of the region' few telephones.



An unidentified outbuilding molders away in the brush. This structure can be found along the lane that leads to the gate of the hacienda. It is unclear whether this was part of the processing system, an administrative building, or possibly the residence of one of the managers of the operation. I always find old ruins like this worth a photo.

During the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the mine workers' living and working conditions continued to deteriorate. Most of the wealth generated by the modernization and foreign investment programs ended up in the hands of Diaz and his cronies. Little filtered down to people laboring in the mines, even as repression of workers and their unions increased. In 1910, the pent-up social explosion called the Mexican Revolution began. Its violent aftershocks continued into the 1930s. 

The chaos of the Revolution began causing mines in San Sebastian to shut down and the last foreign company packed up and left in the early 1920s. San Sebastian became a semi-ghost town. A city which had boasted a population of more than 20,000 in 1900 dropped to only 600 twenty years later. Miners and their families moved to Mascota or elsewhere. The old silver mining town was left far off the beaten track, with few reasons for anyone to visit. 



George and his girlfriend Allyson, taking it easy. They are enjoying the view from one of the benches along the front arcade. The couple met each other while both were living at Lake Chapala. 

In the 1960s, Hollywood actors Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor arrived in nearby Puerto Vallarta to make the movie "Night of the Iguana". They soon fell in love with the little fishing village, built a home there, and invited their Hollywood friends to visit. About the same time, a Hollywood artist named Bud Acord visited San Sebastian and discovered the the semi-ruined Hacienda Jalisco. He and his partner decided to restore the place and convert it into a rustic resort. Soon, Acord was able to persuade his Hollywood friends to visit. These included Burton and Taylor, as well as director John Huston, actress Loretta Young, and many other celebrities. Thus, Hacienda Jalisco was reborn.  

This completes Part 2 of my series on San Sebastian del OesteHacienda Jalisco is definitely worth a stop if you visit the little mining pueblo. I hope you have enjoyed this posting. If so, please leave any thoughts or questions in the Comments section below or email me directly. If you leave a question, please leave your email address so that I can respond.

Hasta luego, Jim