Lamy of Santa Fe

by Paul Horgan

  A humble fervent prayer is necessary to obtain the grace of God that permits us to meet our duties, to practice our virtue, and to avoid sin: keep vigil and pray, find refuge in all humility, put your confidence in God, assure your salvation by your good deeds … that is the grace I ask of God for everyone.

  Though the work of confirmations left him little time—in one cluster of five parishes he gave over twelve thousand—he took a few minutes every day to write letters. In Ixtacamastitlán they told him, in September, that they had never seen a bishop. Lamy was not astonished to hear this—the remoteness of so many Mexican towns was daunting. For fifteen days, with Mexican companions, he had ridden on horseback, for there was not a single waggon road—nothing but “narrow, rocky paths, and high precipices.” It was high, rough mountain country. But he lovingly described the cultivated mountain slopes, where beautiful green fields were seen at altitudes of six thousand feet or more. He saw, even in such a remote place, various kinds of mills for the manufacture of cloth, pottery, paper. The people were admirably simple and full of faith. They were very clean, their style of dress exceedingly plain. They came to receive him with fine flourishes of music, “dozens of violin bows decorated with a great variety of flowers—Mexico is the land of flowers.” They overwhelmed him with attentions and invitations. These he had mostly to decline, for after so much work he was beginning to feel tired. On some evenings he could scarcely stir because of extreme fatigue, though, he wrote his niece, “I feel no pain.” He retired early, slept soundly, and the next day found himself strong again.

  What happened with a missionary who had converted a certain Indian? The Indian, after being well prepared, received the holy Sacraments. The priest left. After a year he returned to the same place and the converted Indian again asked him for communion. The priest told him he would gladly give him communion after he had been to confession. The Indian was horrified, and said to the priest, “Can one sin after being baptized and having had first communion? Thanks to God, I have committed no sin!” Nevertheless, to comply with the precept of the church, he confessed himself.—Oh! that it might happen so with every Christian!

  He hoped to be able to hold out—it was now nearly the middle of September—so that he could go to five more parishes which he promised to visit on his way back to Puebla and Mexico City. Luckily these were places along the railroad and his journey would be less tiring. The bishop of Durango had asked him to give confirmations at Chihuahua on his way north—he hoped to be there by 15 October, and by the twenty-fifth in El Paso, and in early November back in Santa Fe, where without much respite he would have to prepare to attend the Plenary Council to be held in Baltimore later in November. Meanwhile, events in Mexico continued in much the same style. He was accorded so many attentions that he felt almost ashamed. Home thoughts: he hoped Mother Francesca had received the money Father Farini was to receive, and also that if she needed them, she would get some eggs from the ranchito. She was to pay Juan his wages (and the little boy helper—twenty-five dollars for both) and give them money for grain; and if there was a balance she was to keep it for herself.

  As God said to a just man, “I give myself as your reward, because I cannot give anything greater than myself.” So also God said to the soul of the reproved, “I myself will be your torment, by separating myself from you, because in the treasures of my wrath I have nothing any more terrible than parting and separating myself from you.”

  In early October he returned exhausted one evening from a ride of over thirty miles across the “highest ridge of this cordillera.” (He was in Zacopoaxtla.) For fear his horse would stumble and fall on the steep, stony, high path, he dismounted, and leading his horse walked down the mountain for at least three miles. Still, from the summit there was a wonderful view of immense peaks near Veracruz—Orizaba and Perote—and he rode through the semi-tropical lands of sugar cane and coffee plants. For more than a month he had seen no waggon road, and there would be one more week of such travel. Even so, the cordillera was thickly settled, there were fine churches everywhere and even “the highest class” of people had truly admirable faith. Every priest whom he met had enough work “as would commonly occupy two or three.”

  There is no neutrality between the son of God and the world, between the happiness of being one of His disciples and the misfortune to be against Him, in the kind of his enemy.

  At last, on 10 October 1884, he would take the train for Chihuahua and the north. He had already written to Salpointe to meet him in New Mexico at some southern railroad station. When he reached home in late October, the New Mexican reported his “most cordial welcome,” and noted that “during his absence he travelled about 10,000 miles and confirmed 35,000 people—a remarkable feat for the reverend father who is in his 72nd year.”

  XIII

  DAY’S END

  AT SANTA FE

  1884–1889

  i.

  Changeover

  IN NOVEMBER 1884, Lamy went to Baltimore—by rail, now, all the way—to sit with his fellow American bishops in the Plenary Council presided over by Archbishop Gibbons. Each delegate was to bring two theologians with him. Lamy had none to call upon, or perhaps to spare, from Santa Fe. He asked that two be assigned him by the cardinal. His voice was heard in the debates. It was not so strong as many remembered it. He was more than gaunt—almost emaciated now. His robes hung loosely upon him, and the great size of his skull was accentuated by the outlines of bones and the hollows of his cheeks sculptured by age. His bulky biretta sat high upon his head. His eyes were entirely recessed in shadow, and his face was wholly pale. The long Mexican ordeal, coming after his illnesses and beyond these the lifetime of extraordinary exertion demanded of his so often vulnerable health, had hurried the reckoning which he was ready to meet.

  On his return to Santa Fe, he wrote to Leo XIII in December submitting his resignation, with explanations which were sufficient. Now that the succession was insured and vested in Salpointe, Lamy asked again in January 1885 that Simeoni press for the Pope’s acceptance of his petition. The request was not yet known to Santa Fe.

  Salpointe, after nineteen years in Arizona, returned to Santa Fe in February, now as an archbishop. Lamy at once began to divide his tasks with him. One of his gravest wishes was still to obtain governmental help to establish Pueblo schools; and after discussing the matter with him, Salpointe went to visit the ten nearest pueblos, to examine the state of affairs, and to determine whether such schools would be welcomed by the Indians. Their decision, he found, was unanimously in favor of them. He would now be able to present their case if it fell to him to do so.

  Father Peter Bourgade of Silver City had been appointed to succeed Salpointe at Tucson, and in April he was summoned to Santa Fe to be consecrated by Lamy. Inviting Machebeuf to the ceremony, Salpointe wrote, “Do not forget to bring your mitre, crozier, and pontifical vestments. You know we aren’t rich here, and have here only what is needed in our rituals.” He told Machebeuf also that Lamy was well enough, but now that he had a coadjutor, he wanted to do nothing. “I can’t blame him—he worked long for the right to rest.…” The old archbishop assisted by Salpointe and Machebeuf endured the four-hour ritual of raising Bourgade to the episcopate on 1 May, in the half-new, half-old cathedral; and daylong celebrations followed, with a great dinner, fireworks, and artillery salutes, for it was the first ceremony of its kind ever to have been performed in Santa Fe.

  Six months after he had offered it, Lamy’s resignation was laid before Leo XIII during the papal audience of 28 June 1885. “His Holiness diligently examined the reasons presented by Archbishop Lamy.” On 18 July, the Vatican wrote to Lamy that “the Holy Father, with saddened heart, saw the Archdiocese of Santa Fe being widowed by the departure of its good and most worthy Pastor. However, after a close examination of the reasons revealed by Your Excellency, His Holiness has accepted your resignation. Certainly, it seems right and just that Y.E., after all those years of such great and excellent labors in the vi
neyard of our Lord, should deserve to spend the rest of your life in peace and tranquility.… Under your guidance and administration the cause of our faith has made great strides in remarkable growth.…”

  On the same day, Cardinal Simeoni sent instructions to Salpointe to succeed Lamy immediately, advised him that between them they should arrive at suitable financial arrangements for a pension which would provide a “decent living” for Lamy, and assured Salpointe that at the next papal consistory the pallium would be requested for him.

  All formalities accomplished, Lamy was now in a position to take a tablet of faintly blue-lined paper and in the enlarged, deliberate, but still firm handwriting of his seventy-second year, set down the “Resignation of Abp. Lamy and his farewell to the clergy and faithful of the Diocese of Santa Fe,” reading:

  For some years past we had asked of the Holy See a coadjutor in order to be relieved of the great responsibility that rested on our shoulders since the year 1850, when the supreme authority of the Church saw fit to establish a new diocese in New Mexico, and in spite of our limited capacity we were appointed its first Bishop. Now our petition has been heard and our resignation accepted. We are glad, then, to have as a successor the illustrious Mons. Salpointe, who is well known in this bishopric, and worthy of administering it, for the good of the souls and the greatest glory of God.

  What has prompted this determination is our advanced age, that often deprives us of the necessary strength in the fulfillment of our sacred ministry, though our health may apparently look robust. We shall profit by the days left to us to prepare ourselves the better to appear before the tribunal of God, in tranquility and solitude.

  We commend ourselves to the prayers of all, and particularly those of our priests who, together with us, have borne and still bear the burden of the day, which is the great responsibility of directing the souls in the road of salvation. Let the latter remember that, in order that their holy ministry be of any benefit, their example must accompany their instructions. It is with pleasure that we congratulate the most of the clergy of this diocese for their zeal and labors; and we desire those who might have failed in their sacred duties may give, henceforth, better proofs of being the worthy ministers of God.

  We also commend ourselves to the prayers of the faithful, whose lively faith has edified us on many an occasion. We exhort them to persevere in this same faith, in their obedience to the Church, in their faithfulness to their daily obligations, in the religious frequence of the Sacraments, and in the devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, which is one of the most efficacious means of sanctification.

  Finally, we hope that the few religious communities we have had the happiness to establish in this new diocese will Offer some memento in their prayers for our spiritual benefit.

  We ask of all to forgive us the faults we may have committed in the exercise of our sacred ministry, and, on our part, we will not forget to offer to God our humble prayers for all the souls that the Lord has entrusted to us for so many years.

  J. B. Lamy, Archbishop

  Given at Santa Fe, N.M., on the 26th day of August, 1885.

  The letter was read, in Spanish, in all the churches on Sunday, 6 September. In due course, Lamy, no longer entitled Archbishop of Santa Fe, was granted by the Vatican the courtesy title of Archbishop of Cyzicus.

  The end of his term of duty was, like each year of diocesan administration, the occasion for a statistical report to the Society for the Propagation of the Faith in France, which bore so great a share of the expenses of the mission districts the world over. For the end of 1885, the annual report from Santa Fe recorded 238 churches and chapels where Lamy, in 1851, had found 66; 54 priests instead of 12 (which was reduced to 9); 2 colleges, 8 schools, many parish schools, Indian schools, a hospital, and an orphanage, where there had been none of these, thirty-four years ago. This was merely the skeleton of his work. The body of his accomplishment stood forth in the whole character of those people to whom he had given himself, and in the gradual effect of their lives upon the society as it changed—the move toward amenity, through respect for three cultures, and ultimately their civilized union.

  So long as he was able, the archbishop had pursued his share of this task with a sort of grave passion, extending the graces of education, charity, and civil progress for all citizens, and the blessings of religion for those of his faith, across his domain of responsibility, which at its greatest had measured about one tenth of the total area of the United States. As he gave over his task, he wrote to the Society at Lyon: “In the future, kindly address your letters to Mgr Salpointe, who is taking my place, the Holy See having accepted my resignation.… For some years I have felt myself incapable of managing my diocese any longer.’ and in the same letter, he said fervently, “I take this opportunity to thank you for all you have done for my diocese during the 35 years I have managed it, without which help my mission would not be as it is now.… I hope to end my days in the midst of the faithful I have tried to direct into the way of virtue.”

  ii.

  The Old Men

  IN YIELDING UP THE THRONE, Lamy told Simeoni that Salpointe would occupy the greater part of the bishop’s house, “which is sufficiently comfortable; and he shall also have the few resources of my Diocese. For my support, the rents of a few small houses which have been built near the Cathedral will suffice.”

  At first, this seemed to Salpointe like a suitable arrangement, and he said as much to Rome, since Lamy “is not asking for any money but will support himself by the rent of some houses he owns in Santa Fe which he wills to the Church.” Lamy, he was glad to report, had “no illness,” and was “strong enough to walk and travel by horse, but unable to give sustained attention to anything serious.…”

  But when the next annual allocation of funds came from Paris, there was a requirement of a pension of 7,500 francs for Lamy, along with Salpointe’s own salary of the same amount. With all the other fixed expenses, and a debt of 80,000 francs at five per cent interest, the pension was a decided burden.

  Yet Lamy did not want it—he persisted in his own plan for his maintenance, which gave Salpointe much to complain of in a letter to Simeoni in November. “His Grace does not wish an annual pension; he is asking to retain, during his lifetime, the interest of the houses and gardens known under the name of property of the Archbishopric, another house in the city, and a property of little revenue in the country. In keeping all this for himself, Mgr Lamy leaves me absolutely nothing, not even a place to stay. During the seven months that I have been here, I have had to accept the poor hospitality that the priest of the cathedral has had the charity to offer me and which, however sufficient for me, is far from being suitable for the position which I hold. On the other hand, I must say that if I am obliged to pay a pension in cash to the former Bishop, should the Holy See oblige me to, I don’t know where I would obtain the necessary funds, for money is scarce here. The accounts for the year 1884 show that the revenues of the diocese did not reach $3000.00 which is quite insufficient to insure a livelihood for the present Archbishop and also to permit him to meet the costs of the administration.”

  Salpointe was quite willing to live in a modest portion of any one of the houses held under Lamy’s ownership. But “here again a difficulty is presented. For Mgr Lamy tells me that the diocese is in debt for a total of $15,000.00 which I must take charge of.” But how would one raise money for current needs if one had no property to mortgage? “What is more, I could die before Mgr Lamy, but could I by document oblige my successor to accept the position which I will have to accept and which will not be very agreeable?”

  Salpointe reminded the cardinal of what he had said in Rome: “I agreed to come to Santa Fe by pure obedience. I resolved not to appear condescending to the wishes of Mgr Lamy and I believe that I have not deviated from that resolve, but it has been very difficult. If it were only a question of my own personal suffering, I would readily submit to it. What bothers me, however, is to see that there are many needs f
or which the diocese has but few resources.… Mgr Lamy wishes to give me the property titles which I mentioned, while keeping the interest for himself for the rest of his life. I will await for a reply from Your Eminence before accepting the documents. The property could give under $1500 per year.…”

  It was a squabble between two old men grown testy, Lamy at seventy-one, Salpointe at sixty. From Rome, Simeoni reminded Lamy that a friendly settlement was to have been worked out between the retired and the active archbishops of Santa Fe, and he was shocked to discover “recently that nothing has been done in this matter. Moreover; I understand that the Most Reverend Salpointe has as yet received only a single room from the priest of your cathedral church. Therefore, in order not to force him to live outside the Archiepiscopal Palace, I ask you to assign a suitable part in your Archiepiscopal mansion to the Most Reverend Salpointe.” Simeoni then wrote Salpointe: “I think that this letter of mine will be welcomed and accepted by him.…”

  By the time Simeoni’s letters—with their air of restrained exasperation—reached Lamy and Salpointe, the problem had vanished. Salpointe replied at once to say that he was very glad to report that “there is no more difficulty between me and the Most Reverend Lamy.” The fact was, Lamy “changed his decision,” and gave to Salpointe “all the documents and deeds of all the church property without restriction.” Salpointe had found adequate living quarters; and Lamy went into permanent residence at the Villa Pintoresca in mid-summer 1885. There, as he often said, he would be able, far from the hurry of the world, to prepare himself more readily for his mortal end, whenever. So, said Salpointe, it was there that he lived “in the silence of retreat,” and he noted that for several years it had been evident that Lamy’s powers were slowly fading, though he never complained of any illness.