Shipwrecked Spanish seamen living off the land among the indigenous groups in America was stuff of legend. The young officer was only too happy to add to his log that he had indeed found a smiling Spaniard and his mestizo son in Yucatán. The young Spanish naval officer was impressed to learn that Francisco had mastered several local native dialects and was now the person in charge of inter-tribal trade in his clan. What his rescuer said next changed Francisco’s life forever.
“Your knowledge in this new land is greatly valued and badly needed, my friend.”
“Needed? Needed by whom?” responded Francisco.
“By Captain Hernan Cortez, the leader of our large expedition. There are close to a dozen ships making their way along the coast. Ours is just the point of the flotilla.”
Indeed, Cortez had embarked from Cuba on an ambitious conquest of the western islands thought to exist close by. At the time, Europeans believed that the passage to the Indies (El Paso de Anián) could be found by navigating through archipelagos of large islands in the western hemisphere. Little did they know that their goal was not only illusive, it was impossible. There was no passage to India. The Continent of America was a massive solid stretch of land. Of course, no one was aware of it at the time.
Francisco was willing to help. He departed with his ten-year old son who had as yet not realized that he would never see Yucatán or his village ever again. In such a manner, Francisco Vásquez became a well-guarded treasure to Hernan Cortez. At this juncture, Cortez had already been told by the natives of the golden wealth of Tenochtitlan, the capital of the Mexica (Aztec) Empire.
Hoping to stop the strange invaders from across the sea, the Mexica had made a mistake by sending Cortez a steady stream of gifts of gold, rare feather capes, and stone-encrusted works of art. Cortez had seen those items merely as appetizers to a much larger meal he wanted to have. He had even communicated to the Mexica Montezuma through couriers that they suffered from a rare illness that only gold could cure.
Indeed, Cortez dreamed of riches much bigger than those trophies of war they had gained from the Moors. He thus prepared for the ambitious journey to the west in order to see the marvelous place of the Mexica capital for himself.
From Yucatán, Francisco and his young son travelled to a place later to be named as Veracruz, the beautiful port on the Gulf of Mexico. It was in the vicinity of Veracruz that the first Hacienda El Nombre de Dios would be built. There would be many more to come across New Spain. It seemed that Francisco was being rewarded almost every day.
Whether Cortez’ men brought captives or allies to interview, Francisco had been able to extract valuable information so necessary for Cortez to continue his quest for treasure. His translation services were always in demand day or night. It was true that Cortez already had the services of Doña Marina, a young slave given to Cortez by one of the Nahua tribal chiefs when he landed on the coast. The truth was that not all tribes spoke the same language. There were a number of dialects.
Francisco’s unique skill lay in the fact that he always dealt with a clan’s chief trader. He had found out by experience that it was these quick-witted members of local tribes who used all their communication skills to barter and trade. Francisco was quick to quietly interpret what was being said. That way, misunderstandings were rare, which meant that violence was usually avoided. That was the skill that Cortez found extremely useful. It was his counsel that Cortez himself had used in arranging strong alliances with particular tribal chiefs at war with the Mexica.
The fascinating history of the Vásquez family was well known both in America and in Spain. After the Spanish victory over the Mexica, the Vásquez clan had prospered as merchant leaders, who amassed great amounts of wealth.
It was not until the 1800’s that a Vásquez descendant had decided to move further into New Spain. Talk of mining opportunities had led him to Zacatecas and then to Minas de la Trinidad, later named Coahuila. It was Coahuila that the Vásquez family now claimed as their home.
Chapter 9
“Porfirio’s Lucky Day”
Don Raul was vexed. The raids on his wagon trains were becoming more common. The bandits always seemed to know which trips carried payroll and which didn’t. That bothered him. He suspected betrayal from within his own men. However, his attempts to unravel the mystery had led to dead ends. He was lost in his own thoughts, when a knock on the door broke his spell.
The old man heard the voice of the young missionary from outside. “Don Raul, may I speak with you?”
Opening the door, he greeted the padre and noticed one of his miners standing a few feet behind the small stone fence.
“Don Raul, this is Porfirio”. The priest said while pointing to Porfirio. “The last time we spoke, you asked me to bring you proof. Well, Porfirio, one of your own mine workers, is my proof.”
Porfirio was now more ill at ease. He didn’t know what was going on. This was the first time he had ever entered the inner part of the heavily guarded building. He was brave and afraid of only the devil himself, but now he was nervous, but tried not to show it. He just stared at the floor.
The friar prompted Porfirio, “Tell Don Raul about your partial pay.”
Porfirio then quickly told the mine owner everything that had happened within the last couple of days. He also found this opportunity to inform Don Raul about poor working conditions and the low morale of the miners due to the partial pay.
“Partial pay? But, how can that be? I never authorized that. Yes, we’re having problems with bandits attacking our supply line, but there is plenty of money in the safe to pay the miners. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
Porfirio was surprised to see that Don Raul was genuinely attentive and sympathetic. Porfirio had heard rumors that said that Don Raul was uncaring, but the man standing in front of him was greatly saddened. All of a sudden, Don Raul reached over and touched Porfirio on the shoulder as if saying I’ve heard enough. Tears welled in Don Raul’s eyes.
Don Raul dismissed his visitors and directed Porfirio not to discuss their conversation with anyone. He was to go back to his shift at the mine as if nothing had happened. He had done as he was told.
It was not until a couple of days that Porfirio was again called to the mine headquarters. This time, there were two others in the large room. The priest was not one of them. Porfirio later found out that they were Don Raul’s sons. Because he did not know whom to trust, Don Raul had been forced to trust only his sons and Porfirio to unravel the crisis at the mine.
“Porfirio, this is your lucky day. I like the way you think. How would you like another job working directly for me?” With that question, Don Raul explained to Porfirio that he was now a security guard. With his formidable strong body and height, the young miner was a perfect fit. Don Raul went on to explain to Porfirio that his main job was to keep an eye on the payroll staff routine.
“I am not asking you to be a spy. Rather, I am asking you to let me know if the staff is stealing money from the miners’ pockets. Far from it. Let’s call you an inspector of operations”, he said, as Porfirio listened. “Of course, I expect you to tell me if you sense any other crimes against Nombre de Dios.”
Porfirio was dismissed and left the office happy that he was about to start a new life. Most of all, he was ecstatic that he would no longer be going into the mine. At the same time, he was saddened that none of his closest fellow miners got the same opportunity.
The payroll foreman was surprised to say the least. He grilled Porfirio endlessly to find out the reason for his new job. Porfirio was clever enough not to say anything other than the fact that he was called to the front office and given his new responsibility. It was during one of those occasions that Don Raul’s second oldest sons, Don Raulito, came to Porfirio’s aid.
He explained to the foreman that his father knew more about his workers than people gave him credit for. He said that his father had
observed Porfirio’s clean-cut appearance, plus his hard work and decided to reward him. He challenged the other workers who were listening to work hard and maybe they too would be given better opportunities. That seemed to satisfy the foreman.
Weeks passed and Porfirio proved to be an excellent choice for the armed guard job. He had been able to settle several disputes and had established a good relationship with everyone in the mine.
His mother and siblings now had a steady income. She had even opened up a small store and café. All seemed to have reached a happy medium. Most importantly, Don Raul was happy. They had met several times alone to discuss how things were going in the operations building. Don Raul was pleased that he had made the right choice. The once suspicious payroll foreman was no longer as inquisitive and had also accepted Porfirio into his crew.
Raulito also became a regular visitor to the operations side of the mine. All worked fine and things became monotonous. So repetitive was his job that Porfirio sometimes found himself longing for the toughness of the mine. However, those feelings didn’t last long. Watching the long line of tired miners walk out of the pit served to remind him that he was lucky he was no longer one of them.
However, if Porfirio was bored, things were about to pick up the pace. Since starting his guard duty, Porfirio had not left the mine property either on business or pleasure. So, he responded curiously when the foreman asked him to join him on a trip into town. The foreman did not offer any more information and Porfirio did not ask.
As soon as the wagon left the gate, it didn’t take long for the foreman to begin talking.
“Now that you’ve been with us for the last few weeks, I think it’s time for me to bring you into my select group within the guard force.”
Porfirio’s eyes and ears sharpened, but he didn’t respond verbally. He only nodded, signaling to the foreman to keep on talking.
“There are ways to put money in your pocket and it doesn’t involve any risk. All you have to do to become part of my team is for you to cooperate and do as I ask you to do from here on. Are you in? If you’re in, you win. Get it?” the man asked with a grin.
Porfirio smiled and nodded again. The foreman took that as a “yes” and assigned Porfirio to be in charge of the payroll escort the next day. Nothing else was discussed during the short trip to town. The foreman looked pleased that he had just recruited another member for his gang. The group stopped at the general store where they picked up provisions already waiting for delivery to Nombre de Dios. They ate a pié (standing) at one of the domestic lunch stands so common in Mexican villages where one could order home-cooked food through a front window modified to serve as a lunch counter. The two then returned to the mine.
When Porfirio left the office for the day, Raulito was already waiting by the river. Porfirio disclosed his suspicions. Both young men agreed that the payroll crew would be attacked yet again. It was already near dusk. They walked to the rear of the Vásquez estate. Raulito entered by himself as not to attract attention.
After a few moments, both he and his father joined Porfirio. After listening to the latest information, Don Raul decided that Porfirio would comply with the foreman’s orders and lead the payroll escort. He then instructed Raulito to follow and observe the escort along the trail without being seen. Raulito was to provide cover for Porfirio should he need it.
Chapter 10
“Somebody lives and somebody dies”
The day began uneventfully. By the time Porfirio arrived at the small café at the mine, the strong smell of coffee and aromas of hearty breakfast permeated the air. The foreman was already there with two of his men. The foreman was the only one eating and he invited Porfirio to order his meal. Porfirio obliged and soon they were done.
The two guards chose to order their breakfast to go and eat during their trip. Once done, they hurried over to the stables. The sturdy wagon was ready and a team of four mules was hitched to it. In addition, an extra mule was tied to the back of the cart, just in case something happened to one of the other mules.
The foreman took the reins and Porfirio sat next to him. The other two guards sat on a thick wooden plank right behind the front seat. They sat back-to-back to the two men in front. The trip into town was short and little to no conversation occurred.
As a matter of fact, the mules knew the way and led the group through a narrow path leading to the bank in the town of Milagros. They pulled over to a small barn where the mules were fed and prepared for the journey back to the mine. The two back-up escorts stayed with the team.
The small hamlet of Milagros was typical of dozens that dotted the central part of New Spain beginning in the middle 1500s. Although none of its streets were yet paved, the entire plaza was surrounded by clean, wide brick walkways. The rest were just dirt paths patted down by use over many years and maintained by property owners themselves. The most important road through the town was covered with an aggregate of sand and rock.
As the lifeline of the town, the road was elevated by several inches. Its daily maintenance was crucial to keep it free of pot holes and debris. Porfirio noticed a two-man team unloading gravel, sand, and dirt from a large wooden wagon to fill several pot holes. They had stopped to engage one of the residents.
One of the men was having a hard time convincing a portly woman in a small carriage that it was her responsibility to clean up after her horse. After he threatened to call the police, she got off her carriage, tripped on the slippery mess her horse had deposited on the ground. It was a funny sight watching both men trying to help the poor lady up. The small crowd of onlookers cheered when they succeeded in lifting the woman up, her dress in ruins and her dignity shattered.
Nonetheless, the woman managed a smile, thanked the two men, and proceeded to help them clean up after her horse. Not much excitement happened around town. Thus, any unusual event such as this one broke the monotony. Too, it served as a conduit, lifting the spirits of the otherwise glum residents who were always busy struggling to make it in the wilds of New Spain.
The movement north and northwest of population from established centers in Central Mexico had always been slow. The main obstacle was of course the mood of a multitude of tribes and clans who still roamed their territories as they had done for thousands of years.
Although Milagros was not much to look at, it was a close-knit, vibrant community. It gave its residents all they needed to continue their struggle against the elements and make a new life for their growing families raising crops, horses, cattle, and sheep.
oOo
Nearing the bank, an official recognized the foreman as soon as they entered. He invited them to enter his office.
The bank procedures didn’t take long. Meanwhile, the two men at the stable were waiting in front. Bank clerks helped the foreman load the strong boxes.
Soon, they were on their way back to the camp. A sudden gust of wind made the mules uneasy. Threatening winds were pushing dark clouds toward Milagros. That was always a good sign for farmers and ranchers. For the mine crew, that meant the possibility of delaying their return trip to the mine. However, the foreman decided to press on.
Not more than twenty minutes later, the two armed men in the back subdued Porfirio. It all happened so fast, Porfirio was unable to defend himself. Suddenly, Porfirio felt a sharp blow to his head and he passed out. In his stupor, Porfirio heard the foreman apologize.
“Sorry Amigo, in this business, someone has to live and someone has to die. I am to live and you are to die.”
Raulito had seen enough. He noticed Porfirio was deep in trouble. Very quietly, he got close enough where he could see the foreman taking a long dagger out of his belt sheath. He was about to stab Porfirio. The foreman’s intention was to brutally murder his new employee and blame it on one of the many renegades causing trouble in the area. Raulito had to shoot. He had no other choice. The bullet went through the man’s neck and the fore
man dropped instantly to the ground, next to Porfirio.
In the commotion, one of the guards panicked. He quickly unhitched the extra mule and headed into the brush toward town. The other guard, hiding behind the wagon, began shooting in Raulito’s direction. Responding to the gun fire, the mules bolted and moved the wagon a few feet, exposing the shooter. Raulito took aim and killed the other guard.
Once he made sure there were no other culprits around, Raulito tended to Porfirio, who was slowly regaining consciousness. Blood was still flowing out of his nasty gash. Raulito made a bandage out of his large handkerchief and told Porfirio to hold it firm against his head to stop the bleeding. He carried his friend to the shade of a nearby tree and made him as comfortable as possible.
Raulito then placed the two bodies in the wagon. He covered them with a piece of canvas he found folded in the wagon’s gear box. Hours passed and as soon as Porfirio was conscious enough to travel, Raulito helped him onto the wagon. They proceeded toward town.
After they had been on the road for a few minutes, they heard the sound of gun shots. They sounded too close for comfort and they both stepped off the wagon.
Soon enough, they saw a group of men just ahead shooting at them. A voice from the group announced, “You are surrounded. Give up quietly or else.” Identifying himself as Don Raul’s son was of no use.
“We know that. We just want you to give yourselves up in peace. We don’t want any trouble. Neither does your father. He will be surprised but more, disappointed that his own son is behind the robberies of the mine supply wagons.”
Raulito quickly figured out what had happened. The surviving guard had hurried into town and reported that Raulito and Porfirio had robbed them, killing the foreman and the other guard. Raulito was confident he could easily prove otherwise, but at the moment, the impasse was grim.
He observed the group clearly. They were about six of them. One man was the same bank official that had helped them at the bank. A still dazed Porfirio offered his own opinion.
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