by Paul Horgan
His anger brought a change in tone in the correspondence, for two days later, Baca, now revealed as the principal spokesman, hurried to say that Lamy had “not quite understood the petition,” which was nut meant as a “direct accusation” against Machebeuf but only as “a request for a resident pastor.” Calling on all the Hispanic talent for legalistic niceties and obfuscations, Baca hastened to add that as soon as the bishop gave him opportunity prescribed by Canon Law, “and counting on the obvious intelligence” of His Lordship, if he required proofs, he was prepared to proceed, if only to prevent “the slandering of any priest,” and further “to prevent the threatened punishment upon those who subscribed to the letter.” He therefore would ask only that the bishop address himself solely to “the said two points in question”—presumably the request for a pastor, and opportunity under Canon Law to testify further.
To this Lamy replied promptly, demanding answers “to the following questions: first, when and where was the violation of the seal of the confessional made?; second: to whom was it made?; third: what things were revealed?; fourth: the name of the person whose sins were thus revealed? Send me the answers, with proofs, as soon as possible. Adiós.”
A few days later, Lamy wrote again to Baca, stating that his vicar general could justify himself in the face of the accusations made against him, once proofs were submitted. “Then we will have finished with this business!” Lamy then attempted to close the correspondence: “Now permit me to inform you that when it will be necessary to write me, I will so advise you. I will have great pleasure in receiving any of your letters,” but, he could not forbear to add in the face of Baca’s wrangling rhetoric, “please write in easier style.” Yet more, and now sternly, “And please do not interfere with or meddle with the operation of my administration but say and write only what pertains to the case in point.”
For Baca had also castigated the bishop for his suspensions of certain curates, and Lamy reproved him forcefully: “The priests who have been suspended by me, as you yourself should well know, were dismissed because they well deserved ecclesiastical censures, by reason of grave faults well known throughout the Territory. How then can you accuse me of having punished some priests without proof, and without having received any information except that given in simple conversation?” Lamy expressed regret that “a gentleman of good education and honor as I think you are” did not quickly dismiss such ideas against the bishop’s administration. “I don’t remember ever having given you offense on any occasion; and I hope that from now on you will not oblige me to instruct you as I have.… I can assure you that I don’t have any resentment against you, but I believe you have written as you have under some sort of presuppositions.”
If this last statement was a quiet suggestion that Baca was furthering the enmity of his brother-in-law Ortiz against Lamy, Baca was quick to answer (even though not invited to do so) that his acts had “not originated from an ecclesiastic,” and went on for many pages in his old style to elaborate, and veil, yet restate the charges, and the requests, now with a tone of “the highest respect,” while pointing out the difficulty of offering the sort of “proof which is given before a certain class of authority, be it civil or ecclesiastical,” and not excluding the possibility that the charges could be seen in certain contexts “as malicious”—and such, and more, even to the point of stating that since the original petition, other papers had come into his hands which (so Baca now advised Lamy with the air of an ally) should lead the bishop to “demand proofs” for the good of the particular person against whom new charges had been made.
But nobody was deceived, for Baca soon enough returned to press the original charges against Machebeuf, and even, when the vicar general came to Peña Blanca on his rounds, refused the sacraments, “and seemed … to be quite opinionated.” As for an “easier style,” Baca in a later letter said that his temperament being as it was, “I will never be able to use any other kind of language,” and again denied being influenced by anything but his own feelings, “written without any kind of persuasions.”
He was almost finished with his stream of letters; but before he was done he felt obliged to report that Machebeuf, while staying at Peña Blanca as his house guest, sounded a defiance in which he had offended the people of Peña Blanca, against whom he directed all of his sermon, and had used these words:
“Since you want to threaten me with presentations to the bishop, let me tell you this; that he and I grew up together; that we were ordained together; that we have missioned together in the United States; and that he knows me well, and this for many years; and as a consequence, the Bishop never does anything without first consulting me …” Baca drew the fine point that this was unseemly because among the listeners were some who did not agree with those who signed the original petition against Machebeuf, who was therefore attacking such citizens unjustly. He then renewed accusations of the betrayal of confession, citing cases—Machebeuf publicly, from the altar, referred to information about a ten-year-old boy, and matters concerning a man who had lived in incestuous adultery with a sister-in-law, and another irregular marriage case, and a case of a man who hadn’t been to confession for eight years; all of whom, being absolved in confession, were then publicly commented on by Machebeuf, who rejoiced for their restorations to grace in such a way that all knew to whom he referred.
How, then, could that of which he spoke been known to him except under the seal of confession? Moreover, Baca went on, if Machebeuf was so sure that the charges against him were slanders, why did he take steps to incite others to write to the bishop in his defense? If Machebeuf was as close to Lamy as he claimed, and if they acted as one, and if His Lordship did not intend to “administer carefully” the scandals under discussion, then he would have to be considered guilty of “wilfulness and arbitrariness” for which he would be held responsible; and if misfortunes should occur, as seemed likely, in consequence, then—Baca now made a significant threat—”we shall have to appeal to higher powers, in behalf of the faithful whom I might have to represent.” Upon which, in closing, Baca offered all his consideration and respect, as the bishop’s servant and most attentive friend, who kissed His Lordship’s hands.
Lamy was, then, served notice that serious representations would probably be made against him to Rome.
In the following month, another powerful antagonist was in the forefront of spreading struggle. Martínez, the pastor of Taos, wrote to Lamy making “the gravest accusations” against Machebeuf, again having to do with betraying the confessional. On his return from a mission journey, Lamy showed the letter to Machebeuf, who at once replied to Martínez, cited cases, and declared that all which might have been learned in the confessional had already been given to him in ordinary discussion—even, in some cases, in the presence of others; and furthermore, that all the matters discussed were common knowledge. If the people had put two and two together, and concluded that what they knew anyway had also been confided in confession, it was the common knowledge which had made revelations, not himself, even when he publicly rejoiced that certain sinners had come to grace.
It was a measure of Martínez’s general intelligence that he promptly wrote Lamy saying, “I remain satisfied with what Senor Machebeuf answered,” though this was not by any means the end of the opposition which existed in Taos, for it was not long before Martínez was again assaulting Machebeuf and the bishop with charges that various suspensions of the clergy had been made by Machebeuf, in Lamy’s absence, for the purpose of obtaining for himself the benefices belonging to the suspended curates. What was more, Machebeuf, though he obviously regarded himself as “very persuasive” in his sermons, actually only seemed “to annoy and bother his hearers,” which did not produce “the necessary good fruits or results,” and in fact, he might well have tried to be “more moderate in his approach, according to the ordinary rules of oratory.” If such rules existed, they were essentially foreign to Machebeuf’s spontaneous temperament. While notarized depositions a
gainst Machebeuf poured forth from Taos, Martínez went on to execrate him in the affair of the parish of Albuquerque and its popular pastor, Don José Manuel Gallegos, which would soon come to full boil as the most notorious event of the next two years.
Meanwhile, no matter how violent and demanding the agitations of the outlying parishes, Lamy had other matters which also required his attention, and Santa Fe itself was lively in its own traditional ways.
iii.
Diocesan See
THE UNITED STATES SECRETARY of the Territory believed that half the population could not read their catechisms or write their names. How could they make their own laws with any intelligence? “It was,” he observed, “always the policy of Spain and Mexico to keep her people in ignorance, and so far as New Mexico was concerned, they seem to have carried out the system with singular faithfulness … the education of females has, if anything, been more neglected than that of the males …” However, “a slight change for the better has taken place, in an educational point of view, since the country fell into the hands of the United States. The boarding and day schools at Santa Fe, under the care of Bishop Lamy, will, in time, produce a good effect in the Territory.…”
Lamy himself reported to Purcell that “the school of the sisters and that for the boys are doing pretty well,” and showed signs of increasing. The convent school of Our Lady of Light opened in January 1853 with ten boarders and twenty-two day students. In both boys’ and girls’ schools, the pupils were “instructed in ancient and modern languages, music, drawing, and other branches of a useful and polite education,” Instruction in religion and decorum was allied to all the other subjects. The sisters were planning to establish an asylum for orphans. The majority of pupils in the boys’ school came from among the poor. Looking to the future, Lamy watched for “children showing signs of ecclesiastical vocation.”
For he saw that the present critical need for priests would extend far into the years ahead, and he never ceased working to find them, near or far. He believed the prospects for missions among the Indians were good, but the expenses were “enormous,” because of the great distance of the territory from any other, and from one Indian locality to the next. In that spring, the vicariate had resources of sixty-five thousand francs, and expenses of eighty-eight thousand. It was clear that he must live in debt for years. De Smet replied to an appeal for Jesuits that none was available, and was obliged to dun the bishop for bills due in St Louis for everything from waggons, carpets, medicines, and a watch to chalices, ciboriums, and a piano. But Lamy thought that if the Paris Society would repeat last year’s subsidy of twenty thousand francs, he could hope to be out of debt in two or three years. It was a hope never to be fulfilled. He wondered, too, if he might “borrow” two priests from Purcell; the present need was made the more acute by the suspension or defection of so many of the small band of native clergy, a number of whom had, like Ortiz, departed for Durango. Purcell was unable to comply.
The need, the whole climate amongst the clergy, were more agitating than ever. In Easter week, six or seven of the remaining clergy held a meeting against the bishop, and sent him a letter which four of them signed. They proclaimed their open insubordination, and announced that henceforth they would consider “null” any act of his administration. Further, they intended to appeal to “superior authority”—by which they meant the Vatican. Lamy was sorry they chose to desert him, for, as he wrote Zubiría, into whose jurisdiction so many had fled, “up to the present time I have treated them not as inferiors but as equals,” but added, “I can not tolerate their foolishness any more.” He informed His Lordship of Durango that if their claims ever reached Rome, the Holy See would already know the true circumstances of the whole affair, for he had himself already sent full reports concerning it, and his information would be seconded by “several bishops, three archbishops, and a Jesuit”; the last-named was De Smet, who would be in Rome that spring.
Lamy wrote also in detail to Purcell, describing the whole sequence of events since the rebellion of the clergy had broken out early in the year. Fully informed, Purcell (one of his supporting archbishops) would, he hoped, use his “great influence” on his behalf by writing to counter whatever might reach Rome from the insurgent priests. If only he had even “three or four Spanish priests”—and he still had hopes of some Jesuits. Could not Purcell lend him “for two years” two priests, or even two advanced seminarians? To find more of such help, he planned to go to Europe as soon as he felt it prudent to leave Santa Fe.
He wrote in similar vein to Cardinal Barnabo, now the Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of the Propaganda Fide in Rome, warning him that the Mexican dissidents would try to make their case against him there in a “highly florid style (un style bien fleuri)” adding, “I thought it prudent to inform Your Eminence on this matter, so that if their complaints ever reached the Holy See, you would be informed already, and from a good source, as to how these things happened, and that the critical circumstances I was in and the abuses I witnessed obliged me to be severe and to interpret the ecclesiastical law in favor of order and religion. As God has witness, I have experienced a great sorrow, but my duty and my conscience have forced me to take these measures. Now I hope that Your Eminence will do me the honor of examining my motives, and if I must depend on your protection, I ask that it be available to me.”
He wrote also to another of his archbishops—Archbishop Francis Patrick Kenrick, at Baltimore, who not only wrote to Rome in his support, but used Lamy’s facts as “another reason why there should be created an Episcopal See in the city of Santa Fe, and that the illustrious Prelate be invested with full powers and authority, as was also the opinion of the Plenary Council” held in Baltimore a year before. It was not yet known in America, but Santa Fe, with Lamy confirmed as its bishop, had already been raised to the full status of a diocese by Pius IX on 29 July 1853.
Before that news reached Santa Fe and Durango, Ortiz, at Durango, had sent a “folio” of documents to Rome containing letters of accusation against Lamy. Not trusting matters so vital to the regular mails in which they could so easily be lost, he dispatched them by way of Archbishop Clementi, the apostolic delegate at Mexico City. But the self-exiled rural dean of Santa Fe and his fellow dissidents could not have been as happy in their reception by Zubiría as they surely expected to be, for Lamy reported to Baltimore that they had been “coldly received” at Durango.
At home, the awkward issue of tithes was still making trouble. Though the system had been in effect long before Lamy’s time, and Lamy’s only offense to the clergy was to halt their abuses of it, and reduce the parish tariffs and terms of payment, his enemies behaved as if he himself had invented the very idea of tithing.
The scandal over the issue became general, and non-Catholic settlers from the East had their views about it. They regarded the institution of tithing as an offense. A heavy burden fell on the poor people, and some had refused payment. It was commonly believed that the diocesan collection amounted to eighteen thousand dollars a year, some of it received in kind; that an agent who made the collections was paid fifteen per cent for his work; that the bishop retained half, and that the other half was divided between payment to the priests and expenses of repairing and maintaining the churches. A newcomer admitted that the bishop did not spend his portion in “sumptuous and extravagant living” but used a great amount of it for the upkeep of the religious properties of Santa Fe.
A native who defied the tithing rule outright was one of Lamy’s tormentors—once again, Baca of Peña Blanca. In May the bishop wrote to him:
Dear Sir: having been informed by one of my collectors that you have as yet not completely paid up the different parts which correspond to tithing, it is now my duty and obligation to inform you that as long as you obstinately refuse to pay your just debts, I cannot then allow any priest whatsoever to celebrate Mass in your private chapel at Peña Blanca.
Baca’s reply was extraordinarily insolent in tone, but it stated a
view held by many:
Monsignor: I have before me your note of the 17th of the present month of May, and so in adequate response, let me say to Your Lordship: that it is now and will be my firm resolve not to pay any kind of tithing fee, as long as it is demanded of me as some sort of contract payable by me for spiritual administration, the present powers of which may well be within the powers of a Catholic bishop; and this being so I see no reason to worry about the same; since, for over a year now, we have been given bad administration; and so I now beseech and even advise you, first to consult what you owe to your own conscience, for I suspect there is some prejudice in Your Lordship against my own family. Therefore, let Your Most Illustrious Lordship quit your vengeful censures. Though you use such reprehensible means to force me to make your plans effective, first with your now usual threats, and then later with your denial of spiritual ministrations, such procedures, let me inform Your Illustrious Lordship, don’t impress me in the very least; not only because of the notorious injustice which the Monsignor [Lamy] habitually uses in these serious matters, but also because the sheer mercy [to] and piety of all Christians do not depend on the blatant use of absolute power that your Lordship commands, as I’ve learned from others of the Faithful in New Mexico.
He signed himself in the full panache of his heritage, “Francisco Tomás Cabeza de Baca.”
But as summer deepened, Lamy thought he detected a lessening of hostility. Even if “serious difficulties” remained between him and the clergy, he thought the laymen’s movement against him was losing vigor, and he told Purcell that “the vast majority in the territory is in our favor.” In early autumn he received the official word that Santa Fe had been raised to the rank of a bishop’s seat, and he hoped this would “give the last blow to any opposition” when he should publish the news. An incoming territorial governor, Meriwether of Kentucky, ho was received at Santa Fe with a Te Deum sung by the bishop in thanksgiving for his safe arrival—an “imposing ceremony” which he had never seen before—said that Lamy was “most deservedly popular in this town,” though the new governor saw also a great deal of hostility between certain factions of the American and Mexican populations.