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En el nombre de Dios: baroque piety, localreligion, and the last will and testament in latecolonial Monterrey.Kennedy, John R.https://iro.uiowa.edu/discovery/delivery/01IOWA_INST:ResearchRepository/12730576100002771?l#13730715220002771

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EN EL NOMBRE DE DIOS: BAROQUE PIETY, LOCAL RELIGION, AND THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

IN LATE COLONIAL MONTERREY

by

John R. Kennedy

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Doctor of Philosophy

degree in Religious Studies in the Graduate College of

The University of Iowa

May 2017

Thesis Supervisor: Professor Raymond A. Mentzer

Copyright by

JOHN R. KENNEDY

2017

All Rights Reserved

Graduate College The University of Iowa

Iowa City, Iowa

CERTIFICATE OF APPROVAL

____________________________

PH.D. THESIS

_________________

This is to certify that the Ph.D. thesis of

John R. Kennedy

has been approved by the Examining Committee for the thesis requirement for the Doctor of Philosophy degree in Religious Studies at the May 2017 graduation. Thesis Committee: ____________________________________________ Raymond A. Mentzer, Thesis Supervisor ____________________________________________ Amber Brian ____________________________________________ Catherine Komisaruk ____________________________________________ Kristy Nabhan-Warren ____________________________________________ Jenna Supp-Montgomerie

ii

To Lizeth

iii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I have many people and institutions to thank for assisting me throughout my

doctoral journey, leading to the fruition of this project. I would like to thank the members

of my committee for all of their support and encouragement. My advisor, Ray Mentzer,

encouraged me throughout my studies and provided me with key insights into the social

and religious history of late medieval and early modern Europe. Professor Mentzer

modeled excellent scholarship, asked good questions, and provided me with valuable

feedback. Cathy Komisaruk introduced me to colonial Latin America and colonial wills.

Amber Brian assisted me with colonial Spanish terms and helped me grasp more about

colonial Mexico. Jenna Supp-Montgomerie offered important insights into material

religion. Kristy Nabhan-Warren taught me about lived and local religion as frameworks

for the study of religion. I am grateful to the faculty, staff, and graduate students in the

Department of Religious Studies for their insights, conversations, and friendships over the

years.

Additionally, I am thankful for the generous financial support from a number of

sources at the University of Iowa. The Graduate College awarded me with a Ballard and

Seashore Dissertation Fellowship, a Post-Comprehensive Research Award, and a T. Anne

Cleary International Dissertation Research Fellowship. The College of Liberal Arts and

Sciences provided me with a Marcus Bach Graduate Fellowship, and the Department of

Religious Studies provided me with financial assistance from awards for Catholic Studies

and Best Scholarly Graduate Student Paper. I was fortunate to participate in the Meet the

Manuscript Spanish paleography workshop and receive a stipend from the Department of

iv

History. Additionally, the Graduate Student Senate offset some travel expenses with a

Supplementary Travel Award.

In Monterrey, I benefitted from multiple visits to several archives and universities.

First, I am thankful to the staff at the Archivo Histórico de Monterrey, the Archivo

Histórico del Arzobispado de Monterrey, and the Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo

León for assisting me in their archives. Also, I am grateful for access to hard-to-find books

and working space in the libraries at the Museo de Historia Mexicana, the Universidad de

Monterrey (UDEM), the Instituto Tecnológico y de Estudios Superiores de Monterrey

(ITESM)), and the Universidad Autónoma de Nuevo León (UANL).

Lastly, I would like to thank my family members for all of their support and

encouragement. I am eternally grateful to my parents, John and Brenda, and my father-in-

law and mother-in-law, Rolando and Lily, my brother, James, my brother-in-law, Dan, my

sister-in-law, Melany, and my children, Joseph, Joshua, Elizabeth, and Emily. Lastly, I am

thankful for my loving wife, Lizeth.

v

ABSTRACT

My dissertation is about forms of locally-based piety, especially religious

devotion within the population of eighteenth-century Spanish descendants in Monterrey,

Mexico. This study takes the reader through the structure of the colonial last will and

testament, identifying its principle parts, analyzing its formulaic language, and discerning

ways to hear the voice of its testator. Reineros, or colonial residents of Monterrey,

entrusted scribes to write their wills in order to care for their souls in the afterlife and

bequeath their possessions to family members, friends, and the church. Testators

demonstrated their piety by issuing directives concerning their burials and funerals and

making pious bequests to benefit church adornment, chapels, charities, and devotions to

images. I identify trends in piety over time and offer a proposal for understanding the

context of these variations.

I propose that Monterrey’s distance from other urban centers made it a distinctive

frontier town in northeast Mexico, where a baroque-infused piety dominated local

religious practices even after the creation of the diocese in 1777. However, I demonstrate

that late eighteenth-century and early nineteenth-century testators, although still

concerned for their individual souls, requested fewer masses for the dead to benefit their

souls and the souls of others, made fewer charitable gifts, and disregarded showy funerals

for the sake of humility. What emerges, then, is a blend of baroque practices and pious

reforms. “En el Nombre de Dios” is a case study about the staying power of traditions

and the enduring flexibility of religion.

vi

PUBLIC ABSTRACT

My dissertation is about local religion in Monterrey, Mexico during the years

1700-1810. This study offers a close reading of the colonial will and incorporates

information from other historical documents, such as burial records, city council records,

pastoral visits, and other legal documents written by scribes. Wills, in particular, provide

valuable information about the everyday lives of ordinary people, including unique

insights into local religious practices. Those who asked scribes to write their wills were

not only interested in transferring their assets to others once they died, but also they were

concerned with their souls and the souls of others. For this reason, in their wills they

asked for masses to be celebrated in order to benefit their souls in the afterlife, they

requested specific places of burial and often in the habit of a Franciscan friar, and they

made charitable gifts to support their local parish church, Franciscan convent, and other

local places of worship and veneration.

In this dissertation I describe and analyze the types of pious directives made by

those making their wills just prior to death. Data from wills before and after the

establishment of the diocese are compared and contrasted to identify trends among

testators. Many examples of how ordinary Catholics prepared for death and fostered a

sense of community are shared. A blend of traditional religious practices and new ways

to foster religious commitment and devotion emerge over time.

vii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

LIST OF TABLES ........................................................................................................... viii LIST OF FIGURES ........................................................................................................... ix INTRODUCTION .............................................................................................................. 1 CHAPTER 1: BAROQUE CATHOLICISM AND THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT IN COLONIAL MONTERREY .............................................................. 21 CHAPTER 2: PREPARING FOR PURGATORY ........................................................... 70 CHAPTER 3: FUNERAL AND BURIAL PIETY IN COLONIAL MONTERREY .... 117 CHAPTER 4: CONTINUITIES AND CHANGES IN COLONIAL PIETY ................. 173 CHAPTER 5: THE FAMILY, THE ESTATE, AND MATERIAL RELIGION ........... 226 CONCLUSION: CONTINUITIES AND DISCONTINUITIES IN RELIGIOUS PIETY ............................................................................................................................. 270 MANUSCRIPT PRIMARY SOURCES......................................................................... 282 PRINTED PRIMARY SOURCES ................................................................................. 283 SECONDARY SOURCES ............................................................................................. 287

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LIST OF TABLES

Table 1: Outline of an Early Modern Spanish Last Will and Testament .......................... 69 Table 2: Number of Extant Wills in Colonial Monterrey ................................................. 84 Table 3: Percent of Saints as Intercessors, 1700-1810 ..................................................... 99 Table 4: Percent of Saints as Intercessors, 1700-1776 and 1777-1810 .......................... 101 Table 5: Church Burial by Place, 1743 ........................................................................... 153 Table 6: Total Deaths and Types of Burial, 1734-1743 and 1795-1804 ........................ 170 Table 7: Number of Deaths, Elaborate Funerals, and Wills, 1734-1743 and 1795-1804 ....................................................................................................................... 171 Table 8: Number of Masses Requested in Sample Wills ................................................ 215 Table 9:The Average and Median Number of Clauses in Sample Wills ....................... 220 Table 10: Assets Over Time ........................................................................................... 221 Table 11: Number of Deaths, Elaborate Funerals, and Wills, 1734-1743 and 1795-1804 ....................................................................................................................... 272

ix

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure 1: Modern Political Map of Mexico with Nuevo Reino de León Highlighted ...... 47 Figure 2: Oldest Known Map of Monterrey, 1765.. ......................................................... 52 Figure 3: Map of Monterrey by Juan Crouset, 1798 ....................................................... 153

1

INTRODUCTION

It has often been remarked that there are only two guarantees in life—death and

taxes. Many things in life can be avoided with proper discipline; these things cannot be.

Past societies have developed a wide-range of strategies to cope with death. From beliefs

and rituals to institutions and modern psychotherapy, death has been perceived and has

been managed differently. For many, death is rarely discussed; it is minimized and

forgotten. For others, death is personified, mocked, and ridiculed as in contemporary

celebrations of Día de los Muertos. For some, death is simply the end. Still, some view

death as a beginning rather than an end, as the point of entry for rest, temporary

purgation, or eternal bliss. However death is perceived, it remains. The inevitability of

death coupled with the cultural and religious practices inherited from Spain led colonial

Mexicans to write last wills and testaments.1

My overall goal is to provide a close reading of eighteenth-century last wills and

testaments from Monterrey, Mexico for the purpose of describing and analyzing religious

piety over time. The layout of the following five chapters has been designed around the

structure of a colonial will. Chapter one introduces the reader to baroque Catholicism,

colonial Monterrey, and the last will and testament as a historical document. The second

chapter launches into the will’s introduction. Although notaries and scribes adhered to the

formulas of the day that dictated how wills should be written, space is provided to

explore preferences among testators. Chapter three analyzes the body of the will and

burial records within the framework of local and lived religion in an effort to understand

1 In his dissertation I use “will” and “testament” interchangeably.

2

the religious lives of eighteenth-century reineros,2 or residents of Nuevo Reino de León.

Testators made specific funeral and burial requests for individual and communal benefits.

Burials records of the time indicate both continuities and discontinuities of practice. The

fourth chapter presents data concerning religious piety, such as asking for masses for the

dead and making charitable gifts. The final chapter explores the last two parts of the

colonial will, the distributive clauses and the work of the executors. Testators were

meticulous in naming their debts, assets, inheritors, and executors in order to ensure their

bequests would be fulfilled. Space is provided for examining the role of widows, in

particular, as wills allude to their agency and provide them a rare voice in the colonial

world. Because a full study of the material objects named in wills is beyond the scope of

this project, I have focused on discussing the role of devotional objects to enhance the

communal and domestic piety of reineros. Analysis of the relevant data suggests that

residents of Monterrey remained quite committed to baroque ideals throughout the

eighteenth century, even as there was a move away from certain traditional practices.

Trends in the data are noted between 1700-1776 and 1777-1810. The year 1777 marks

the founding of the Diocese of Linares (later Monterrey) and serves as an important

turning point in the city’s history. I argue that changes in pious practices are best

understood as the result of a mix of poor economic conditions, Franciscan ideals,

enlightened piety, and policies enacted by the crown.

2 “Reinero,” literally “those of the kingdom,” derives from “reino” in Nuevo Reino de León (New

Kingdom of León). Reinero has ceased to be a term for the people of the modern state of Nuevo León. Today residents from the area are known as “regios/as,” which is short for regiomontano/a, meaning “natural of Monterrey.” Regio derives from “pertaining to the king (rey) and montano/a, meaning “pertaining to a mountain.” Monterrey’s location in the Extremadura Valley has also given rise to its fame as the “City of the Mountains.”

3

Wills: History, Value, and Limitations

Wills have a long history in Western civilization. The ancient Romans engaged in

writing private wills primarily to distribute property after death. Once wills reappeared on

the scene in the West during the twelfth century, they were administered by the church as

sacred documents to assist the immortal soul through purgatory with the aid of masses for

the dead, prayers, and other forms of piety. Medieval wills retained space for distribution

of inheritances; however, they included pious bequests as a means to allay the fires of

purgatory, a western doctrine of temporary suffering for sins committed for the purpose

of purification. Dying intestate could prevent one from receiving a proper church burial

and thus miss out on the spiritual benefits that it provided as an instrument of salvation.3

Most medieval testators verbalized their final wishes and desires in a nuncupative (oral)

will. Francine Michaud comments that:

in order to permanently bear evidence to a testator’s intentions, the Church advocated quite early for a written instrument produced under the seal of an authority figure (ecclesiastical or lay). This concern grew particularly urgent when the testament had become an act pro anima in preparation for death and – one hoped – for eternal life.4

The late Jacques Le Goff added, “Unless we bear in mind the obsession with salvation

and the fear of hell that motivated the people of the Middle Ages, we shall never

understand their mentality.”5 In the sixteenth century the jurisdiction over wills moved

away from clerics and into the hands of professional notaries. Two centuries later, wills

3 “Those who died intestate could not, in principle, be buried in a church or cemetery.” Philippe

Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, trans. Helen Weave (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1981), 189. 4 Francine Michaud, “Wills and Testaments,” in Death in Medieval Europe: Death Scripted and

Death Choreographed, ed. Joëlle Rollo-Koster (London and New York: Routledge, 2017), 118. 5 Jacques Le Goff, La Civilisation de l’Occident médiéval (Paris: Arhaud, 1964), 240, quoted in

Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 191.

4

in Europe come full circle and begin to focus purely on secular concerns like that of

ancient Rome.

There is considerable value in the study of historical wills. In the words of S.L.

Cline, “A will is a window into someone’s life.”6 Colonial wills provide data pertinent to

understanding cultural practices, local economies, and material culture. In their

assessment of the value of wills, Susan Kellogg and Matthew Restall note that wills

provide “detailed information impossible to find in any other documentary genre.”7 In

her study of wills in colonial New Mexico, Martina Will de Chaparro demonstrates that

testaments:

offer a vantage point to determine people’s self-reported behavior, insomuch as inheritance is one of the key economic structures in precapitalist societies, they are laden with formulaic language that can obscure as well as reveal. Testaments, however, do bear witness to the people’s efforts to adhere to the model of the good death as they dutifully choose indulgence-bearing burial costumes, requested saintly intercession, ordered masses, and elevated burial within the parish church or—if they could afford to—the local monastery.8

From formulaic information like creedal statements and Latin phrases to

personalized bequests like the number of masses requested for one’s soul and funeral

plans, wills offer a considerable range of information about society and the individual.

Because notaries adhered to set formulas found in handbooks, early modern Spanish wills

look remarkably similar to colonial Mexican wills. Charles Cutter explains that “The

6 S.L. Cline, Colonial Culhuacan, 1580-1600: A Social History of an Aztec Town (Albuquerque:

University of New Mexico Press, 1986), xi. 7 Susan Kellogg and Matthew Restall, “Introduction,” in Dead Giveaways: Indigenous Testaments

of Colonial Mesoamerica and the Andes, eds. Susan Kellogg and Matthew Restall (Salt Lake City: The University of Utah Press, 1998), 5.

8 Martina Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2007), 11.

5

authority of legal instruments such as wills and testaments depended on strict compliance

to prescribed formulas. And, when dealing with this derecho privado, frontier magistrates

took care to retain the solemnity of language and form that such documents required.”9

However, couched within the formulaic structure are fragments of personality, the

testator’s last wishes. Individual testators exhibit agency as they planned their funerals

and masses, enumerated debts and assets, and allocated their possessions.

Writing wills served various purposes in colonial society. Some of these were

individualistic, e.g., the individual testator’s desire to bequeath assets and merit spiritual

capital for the soul and the opportunity to select beneficiaries for valuable assets, whereas

others were societal, e.g., the legal transfer of property and moral support for the living

survivors. One can also speak of a ceremonial aspect of wills. In his study of sixteenth-

century wills from Madrid, Carlos Eire connects royal rituals with testaments in that

“They allow one to analyze ‘the working of ceremonial in society’ and ‘the working of

society through ritual.’”10 Wills provide a connection among the generations as they

“impose a certain sense of order and continuity on the potentially chaotic experience of

transition caused by every death, they also illustrate the way in which any given society

constructs its ultimate values and beliefs and the way in which it approaches the relation

between the living and the dead.”11 Eire adds, “At the very least, wills can reveal certain

patterns of belief and behavior for particular segments of a given society; at most, they

can disclose the ways in which a certain mentality is expressed on a personal and social

9 Charles R. Cutter, The Legal Culture of Northern New Spain, 1700-1810 (Albuquerque:

University of New Mexico Press, 1995), 39. 10 Eire is drawing on language employed by David Cannadine and Simon Price in their 1987 book,

Rituals of Royalty. Carlos M.N. Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory: The Art and Craft of Dying in Sixteenth Century Spain (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 40.

11 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 40-41.

6

level by a certain individual.”12 Although much can be gleaned from wills, there are also

some limitations that must be noted.

Wills do not represent a cross section of society. Some might imagine wills as

mere products of a prosperous urban elite who not only had numerous assets to distribute

but also had sufficient wealth to hire a notary, pay for a lavish funeral, and establish a

chaplaincy. This notion has some merit. The indigent simply did not write wills. They

neither had the funds to pay a scribe nor assets to give away. In fact, parish records for

baptism, marriage, and death are really the only avenue to identify this strand of the

population. However, and due to the meager economic conditions in Monterrey, a

number of testators had few assets and some of them neither owned land nor large

amounts of animals. A study of colonial Mexican wills inevitably focuses on people who

had at least some assets—the more privileged sector of society. This study, thus, is less

able to gauge the piety of the destitute.

Furthermore, the making of a will did not guarantee that the testator’s wishes

would be followed ad infinitum. As such, the colonial Mexican will must be recognized

as a prescriptive document. It is beyond the scope of this project to investigate whether

pious bequests were actually fulfilled. Many probably were, some were probably not.

Bruce Gordon and Peter Marshall’s comment on the situation in late medieval Europe is

also applicable to colonial Mexico: “Unsurprisingly, at times the living could show

themselves inattentive to the declared wishes of the dead: bequests might remain

unfulfilled, chantries unfounded and annual commemorations of the dead (particularly

12 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 42-43.

7

the long-dead) might be amalgamated or abandoned.”13 Because of the real possibility

that executors would abandon their duties, the selection of executors was one of the most

important decision testators made.

This project aims to fill in the gaps about what we know of colonial Latin

American wills in one area on the geographic periphery. Earlier studies have focused on

wills from large urban settings in the New World, such as Mexico City, Lima, and

Santiago. Will de Chaparro points out that “we cannot assume that what held true for

Mexico City also held true for Mérida, for example. . . . We would like to see more

research conducted on those areas that were peripheral or satellites to the colonial

centers.”14 In the early eighteenth century, long before it became the third largest

metropolitan area in the country, Monterrey was a small frontier outpost, a strategic link

between Saltillo and the extreme northeastern coast with what would become Texas to

the north. Over the course of the eighteenth century, the population remained in flux due

to natural disasters, plagues, raids or fear of raids by local indigenous peoples, economic

woes, and residents moving in and out as settlements expanded north and northeast. This

study examines wills produced during this volatile time.

13 The authors begin their introduction with the truism, “Like the poor, the dead are always with

us.” Bruce Gordon and Peter Marshall, “Introduction: placing the dead in late medieval and early modern Europe,” in The Place of the Dead: Death and Remembrance in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe, eds. Bruce Gordon and Peter Marshall (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 8-9.

14 Martina Will de Chaparro and Miruna Achim, “From the Here to the Hereafter: An Introduction to Death and Dying,” in Death and Dying in Colonial Spanish America, eds. Martina Will de Chaparro and Miruna Achim (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 2011), 26.

8

Modern Scholarship on Death, Dying, and the Writing of Wills

With the rise of social history in the 1960s and 1970s, historians have attempted

to understand more fully the ways in which people have lived out their lives in the past.

French historians advanced a “history of mentalities” approach which sought to “consider

the attitudes of ordinary people toward everyday life. Ideas concerning childhood,

sexuality, family, and death, as they have developed in European civilization, are the

stuff of this new kind of history.”15 In 1977, Philippe Ariès’ last major work, The Hour of

Our Death, surveyed approaches to death and dying in western civilization, relying on

wills as well as archaeological data including tombs, epitaphs, and cemeteries. Ariès

generalizes various conceptions of death and dying, identifying three broad approaches to

death: (1) the tame death as desired by the Greeks, Romans, and early Christians, (2) the

good death as desired by western medieval Christians, and (3) the beautiful death as

desired by eighteenth-century Europeans of the Enlightenment. His study contributed to

an understanding of the western practice of writing wills across time and noted the shift

in popular understandings of death in modernity. In the same decade another French

scholar was making key contributions to understanding how French Catholics approached

death following the reforms of the Council of Trent (1545-1563).

Michel Vovelle published a seminal study on trends concerning piety among

French baroque Catholics of the eighteenth century.16 Baroque Catholicism emerged after

the implementation of Tridentine reforms and has been characterized by the use of

ostentatious rituals, widespread use of devotional objects, and persistent belief in magical

15 Patrick H. Hutton, “The History of Mentalities: The New Map of Cultural History,” History and

Theory 20, no. 3 (1981): 237. 16 See Michel Vovelle, Piété baroque et déchristianisation en Provence au XVIIIe siècle. Les

attitudes devant la mort d'après les clauses de testaments (Paris: Seuil, 1973).

9

powers. Kaspar von Greyerz notes baroque Catholicism’s emphasis on sensuality as

“visibly and tellingly expressed in the veneration of saints (especially within the

framework of the cult of Mary), the Church’s enthusiasm for building projects,

processions, ecclesiastical theater, and much more.”17 Vovelle argued that pious

directives in wills which increased in southern France throughout the seventeenth and

eighteenth centuries were a result of the reforms ushered in by Tridentine Catholicism.

Philip T. Hoffman pinpoints the increase in pious bequests as a direct result of the literate

and women who “favored the rituals of Tridentine Catholicism.”18 However, after 1750,

pious bequests waned, especially among testators in the middle classes. Vovelle

interpreted this drop as an abandonment of traditional Catholic practices in favor of

secular concerns, a process he dubbed “dechristianization.” Dechristianization

proliferated due to the growth of anticlericalism and effects of the Enlightenment as the

century inched closer to the French Revolution. Early modern secular thinkers assaulted

revealed religion as superstitious and eventually embraced sola ratio, which influenced

17 Kaspar von Greyerz, Religion and Culture in Early Modern Europe, 1500-1800, trans. Thomas

Dunlap (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 46. 18 See Philip T. Hoffman, “Pious Bequests in Wills: A Statistical Analysis,” Social Science

Working Paper 393 (1981): 1-73, accessed February 28, 2017, http://www.hss.caltech.edu/content/pious-bequests-wills-statistical-analysis.

10

the masses.19 Other scholars noted similar decreases in piety in other urban areas.20

Kaspar Von Greyerz comments on the European situation, “The Catholic wills that have

been examined became almost completely secular in their language by the time we get to

the decade from 1810-1820.”21 However, some scholars have challenged Vovelle’s

thesis, viewing the changes in pious bequests indicative of an inward-looking piety rather

than an abandonment of faith in the modern world.22 Piety had become privatized.

Historians of Spain began exploring death in the late 1980s and 1990s. Sara

Nalle’s God in La Mancha (1992) uses testaments as one piece of evidence to understand

how the residents of Cuenca and surrounding Spanish villages maintained an “earlier,

resilient faith” in light of Catholic reforms. Of particular interest is the role of personal

faith in “funeral strategies, which came to focus on the supreme moment of judgment

between the individual and God.”23 In terms of local religion, Nalle notes that it “lost

19 Brad Gregory points out that for modern secular thinkers, “The root problem was the

assumption shared by Protestants and Catholics alike, namely that questions about truth, morality, purpose, and meaning were to be answered by a transcendent God who had become incarnate for the salvation of sinful humanity. . . . The credo of modern philosophy, the various expressions of the Enlightenment, and nineteenth-century notions of progress would be that sola ratio could achieve what sola scriptura manifestly could not.” Brad S. Gregory, The Unintended Reformation: How a Religious Revolution Secularized Society (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2012), 113.

20 In La mort a Paris, the social historian Pierre Chaunu confirmed a similar pattern in Paris that Vovelle found in Provence. Philip Hoffman comments that “Chaunu and Vovelle have demonstrated that such pious bequests, far from being dictates of rigid custom, were matters of choice and deliberation which illuminate the religious beliefs of the large fraction of the populace that left wills. . . . Similarly, for Vovelle, the decline of such testamentary stipulations in Provence in the eighteenth-century marked the end of Counter-Reformation piety and the onset of dechristianization.” Philip T. Hoffman, “Wills and Statistics: Tobit Analysis and the Counter-Reformation in Lyon,” The Journal of Interdisciplinary History 14, no. 4 (1984): 814.

21 Von Greyerz, Religion and Culture in Early Modern Europe, 1500-1800, 212. 22 Will de Chaparro and Achim comment, “Historians have complicated Vovelle’s

‘dechristianization thesis’ by proposing other meanings for the apparent change in popular piety. While Zárate documents testators’ shift toward less public and more familiar and socially exclusive funerary rituals after 1800, she cites this as evidence of an interiorized faith rather than a decline in piety per se. Pamela Voekel reiterates this point but fleshes out what Zárate only begins to explore, namely, the larger political and social meanings of the transition away from spectacular funerary ritual and ostentatious burial practices.” Will de Chaparro and Achim, “From the Here to the Hereafter,” 8-9.

23 Sara T. Nalle, God in La Mancha: Religious Reform and the People of Cuenca, 1500-1650 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992), 210.

11

some of its autonomy, and international Marian and Christocentric devotions were

popularized.”24 Carlos Eire’s From Madrid to Purgatory (1995) describes the production

of wills and devotional literature concerning death in Counter-Reformation Spain. Eire

comments on the writing of a will as “a document that not only helped one prepare for

the struggle of death but could ostensibly ensure that one’s stay in purgatory would be

substantially shortened. It was a passport to the afterlife, drawn up by a notary as the

dying person stood on the rim of eternity, poised between heaven and hell.”25

Latin American scholars have also turned their attention to death, developing the

idea of the good death as conceptualized in the New World according to popular

practices.26 As in medieval Europe, a quick death was deemed a bad death (“mala

muerte”) since it did not provide sufficient time to make amends with God, family, and

community as a slow death would allow. María Concepción Lugo Olín finds evidence

that by 1760 discourse concerning the good death began to be replaced with collective

and patriotic death, lauding soldiers who died on the battlefield rather than a traditional

death in the presence of loved ones.27 Scholars turned to wills as an important source for

understanding the ways in which ordinary people approached death and wrote wills to

cope with it throughout colonial Latin America.28

24 Nalle, God in La Mancha, 210. 25 Eire, From Madid to Purgatory, 34. 26 A number of scholars have contributed to studying death in Latin America. For example,

Antonio Rubial García’s La Santidad Controvertida (1999), Estela Roselló Soberón’s Así en la tierra como en el cielo (2006), Gisela von Wobeser and Enriqueta Vila Vilar’s edited volume, Muerte y vida en el más allá (2009), and Martina Will de Chaparro and Miruna Achim’s edited volume, Death and Dying in Colonial Spanish America (2011), have all made notable contributions.

27 For more, see María Concepción Lugo Olín, Una Literatura para Salvar El Alma: Nacimiento y ocaso del género, 1600-1760 (México, DF: INAH, 2001).

28 In Chile, for example, testators often made their wills before a taking a long trip or once they became a member of a religious profession. Raïssa Kordić Riquelme, ed., Testamentos Coloniales Chilenos (Madrid: Iberoamericana, 2005), 15.

12

Scholars of colonial Mexico have studied last wills and testaments to glean

knowledge about colonial understandings concerning death and dying, funerary practices,

and testamentary concerns within baroque Catholicism. Several seminal studies have

relied upon last wills and testaments to glean understandings of colonial life in Mexico.

James Lockhart’s The Nahuas After the Conquest (1992) relied extensively on notarial

records, such as wills, annals recording events that glorified a particular lineage, and land

records to learn about Nahua households, religion, language, and social structures. A

number of projects have studied the use of wills and testaments among indigenous

peoples of colonial Mexico, including S.L. Cline and Miguel León-Portilla’s The

Testaments of Culhuacan (1984), Susan Kellogg and Matthew Restall’s Dead Giveaways

(1998), Caterina Pizzigoni’s Testaments of Toluca (2007), and Mark Christensen and

Jonathan Truitt’s Native Wills from the Colonial Americas (2016). These studies have

demonstrated how indigenous peoples wrote Spanish-influenced wills in the context of

their own cultures.

Scholars of colonial Mexico have studied testaments to establish a new

understanding of urban religion in New Spain. Pamela Voekel’s Alone Before God

(2002) accesses wills to analyze changes in religious practice as a result of the efforts of

eighteenth-century reforming bishops in Mexico City and Veracruz. Voekel analyzes

testaments as well as religious, political, medical, and economic sources to demonstrate

the reformers’ march toward embracing modernity. She summarizes the reformers’

imperative as a quest “to liberate ‘true religion’ from the Church, which would then exist

13

in a godly and pared-down form.”29 Comparing the reform efforts in New Spain to those

in France, Voekel states, “Unlike their French contemporaries, pre- and post-

Independence reformers were not engaged in secularization but something more akin to a

religious war.”30 A key move in the reformers’ agenda was to transfer burials from sacred

ground to secular space, from churches to cemeteries outside the city, for the purposes of

hygiene and sanitation, signaling a move away from a communal, ostentatious baroque

piety towards an individualistic, reasoned-oriented enlightened piety. Voekel argues that

a greater concern for the individual as an autonomous person laid the groundwork for

reconceptualizing the role of the individual in modern Mexican society. This

development occurred gradually and in dialogue between traditional and modern voices.

Will de Chaparrro and Achim summarize this change over time:

Faith was a parameter that influenced and was influenced by the growth of liberal thought, in other words, and deathways in particular allow us access to the way the Mexican people, who were not subject to the onslaught of anticlerical texts and images like Vovelle’s French peasants and artisans, could relinquish the church’s public role and negotiate their faith as citizens of an ostensibly enlightened order.31

Brian Larkin’s The Very Nature of God (2010) affirms Voekel’s work on Bourbon

Mexico on a number of points, but he also challenges it as he sets out to “reinterpret the

eighteenth-century project of religious reform in Mexico.”32 Larkin thinks that Voekel

overestimated the immediate success of the reforming bishops of Mexico City and

29 Pamela Voekel, Alone Before God: The Religious Origins of Modernity in Mexico (Durham:

Duke University Press, 2002), 9. 30 Voekel, Alone Before God, 9. 31 Will de Chaparro and Achim, “From the Here to the Hereafter,” 8-9. 32 Brian Larkin, The Very Nature of God: Baroque Catholicism and Religious Reform in Bourbon

Mexico City (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, 2010), 11.

14

Veracruz. For Larkin, the reforming bishops promoted a new theology concerning God’s

nature, moving from an immanent view to a transcendent view, which had ripple effects

on everyday practices. Baroque Catholicism dominated much of eighteenth-century

Mexico, though its influence waned in large urban areas as the century progressed and

the reform project gained momentum. Larkin’s project investigates religious reform

initiated by the Bourbons in the late eighteenth century. These reforms attempted to

regulate public space and activities and the practice and understanding of worship.

Specifically, the reformers moved to delegitimize certain forms of performative and

liturgical piety they viewed as excessive and superstitious. Larkin adds, “Among other

practices, targets of reform included ornate adornment of sacred space, lavish liturgical

ritual, exuberant and oftentimes raucous feast day celebrations, ostentatious funerary

rites, excessive devotion to images and relics, and in general the easy commingling of the

sacred and profane common in Baroque Catholicism.”33 Larkin admits, however, that the

reforms were “at best a moderate success even into the early nineteenth century.”34 The

effectiveness of religious reform has been questioned by other scholars as well. Jesus A.

Ramos-Kittrell argues that the church “continued to endorse the practice of devotional

piety, as corroborated by the number of private endowments for religious ritual

established consistently throughout the 18th century, thus putting into question the

effectiveness of religious reform.”35

33 Larkin, “Liturgy, Devotion, and Religious Reform in Eighteenth-Century Mexico City,” The

Americas 60, no. 4 (2004): 494. 34 Larkin, “Liturgy, Devotion, and Religious Reform in Eighteenth-Century Mexico City,” 495. 35 Jesus A. Ramos-Kittrell, “Music, Liturgy, and Devotional Piety in New Spain: Baroque

Religious Culture and the Re-evaluation of Religious Reform during the 18th Century,” Latin American Music Review 31, no. 1 (2010): 82.

15

Martina Will de Chaparro’s Death and Dying in New Mexico (2007) explores the

“good death” and the practices and rituals associated with death and dying. Will de

Chaparro notes how little scholarly attention has been given to colonial Mexican

“deathways,” or ways of dying.36 Her study concludes that popular piety in colonial New

Mexico appears more baroque than modern. Along the way, Will de Chaparro makes

some important observations about colonial practices on the periphery that stand out

compared to urban centers. Most of her interlocutors had a strong affection for the dead

and the souls suffering in purgatory. They preferred to be buried in a habit, especially a

Franciscan one. They paid for their masses for the dead and their funerals in goods rather

than coins, though they were less likely to endow gifts to the poor when compared to

urban elites. Finally, pious bequests decreased in the early nineteenth century, whereas

the drop occurred in the mid-to-late eighteenth century in urban areas.

More recently, Amy Porter’s Their Lives, Their Wills (2015) is a comparative

study of wills, supplemented by court cases, censuses, and travelers’ accounts, from the

borderlands of northeast Mexico, specifically Saltillo and San Esteban de Nueva

Tlaxcala, as well as Santa Fe and El Paso. Porter’s eighteenth and nineteenth century

interlocutors remained quite traditional and baroque in practice. In a revealing discussion

on gender dynamics and fluidity, Porter argues that “women’s wills, although written by

men, provide one more source to hear women’s voices and gives us glimpses of their

everyday lives.”37 Porter identifies wealthy and semi-wealthy widows through their wills

and shows how they worked outside of patriarchal authority in many areas of their lives,

36 Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, xix. 37 Amy Porter, Their Lives, Their Wills: Women in the Borderlands, 1750-1846 (Lubbock: Texas

Tech University Press, 2015), 7.

16

especially in their families and their local economies and spiritualities. In terms of their

spiritual authority, women ensured masses were said for the dead and preserved family

altars as they exerted moral authority in their homes and sought to live piously.

Goals of this Project

In his survey of Anglophone scholars writing on colonial Mexico during the past

two decades, Eric Van Young notes the worrisome trend emerging as two national

historiographies, one U.S. and one Mexican, are currently being written. Whereas the

work of Mexican scholars is still quite traditional, though compelling, “the impact of

cultural anthropology upon history, the emergence of postcolonial studies, the influence

of European historiographical models, the linguistic turn in general” are informing and

shaping the work of Anglophone scholars at a much higher level than Mexican

scholars.38 Scholars have made significant strides to understanding colonial Latin

America, generally, and colonial Mexico, specifically; however, Anglophone scholars

have produced few studies of colonial Monterrey or Nuevo León. Furthermore, scholars

have largely focused on Monterrey’s beginnings and early ethnographical descriptions,

with much interest in the saga of Luis de Carvajal and the accusation that his family

practiced crypto-Judaism. This dissertation aims to explore and analyze the religious

practices of colonial Monterrey in an effort to address the void present in current

scholarship. I aim to build on and differentiate my work from traditional scholarship on

Nuevo León and Monterrey by scholars of the Mexican academy, consisting of Eugenio

38 Eric Van Young, Writing Mexican History (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2012), 125.

17

del Hoyo, Israel Cavazos Garza, and Aureliano Tapia Méndez.39 The rich colonial

records of Monterrey have also been of interest to genealogists seeking to glean their

family histories from the archives, though my work is distinct from their personal

interests.40

This study aims to break new ground in the scholarly study of late colonial

Monterrey. The lacuna of scholarship on Monterrey has been lamented by anthropologist

Marie Theresa Hernández, who was unable to cite one study conducted by an American

anthropologist for her project on folklore in Nuevo León.41 With the notable exception of

Eugenio del Hoyo’s Historia de Nuevo León and Abraham Nuncio’s Visión de

Monterrey, Hernández notes that existing works produced by the Mexican academy

“have often focused on information presented with the flavor of government propaganda.

39 For a summary on the historiography of Nuevo León, see Israel Cavazos Garza, “Nuevo León,

Medio Siglo de Historiografía, 1951-1999,” Humanitas 27. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos (2000): 509-550. For an early twentieth-century summary on the historiography, archives, and libraries of Nuevo León, see Israel Cavazos Garza, “Nuevo León: La Historia y sus Instrumentos,” Historia Mexicana 1, no. 3 (1952): 494-515. Scholars have produced works for a popular audience about how ordinary people lived. For example, consider Juan Roberto Zavala, La vivienda en la historia de Nuevo León (Siglos XVII, XVIII y XIX) (Monterrey, NL: Instituto del Fondo Nacional de la Vivienda para los Trabajadores, 1996).

40 For an overview on the current archives in Nuevo León, see Cesar Morado Macías, ed., Los Archivos Históricos de Nuevo León (Monterrey, NL: Universidad Autónoma de Nuevo León/Grupo de Investigadores sobre el Noreste de México y Texas (GENTE), 2012). A number of resources have been published to help genealogists in their efforts. See Lilia E. Villanueva de Cavazos, ed., Testamentos Coloniales de Monterrey, 1611-1785 (Monterrey: Universidad Autónoma de Nuevo León, 1991); Lilia E. Villanueva de Cavazos, ed., 246 Testamentos de Monterrey: En Resumen Genealógico (Monterrey: Lilia .E. Villanueva de Cavazos, 1999); Tomás Mendirichaga Cueva, Origin of the Surnames Garza and Treviño in Nuevo León, trans. Edna G. Brown (Corpus Christi, TX: E.G. Brown, 1989); and Tomás Mendirichaga Cueva, Surnames of Nuevo León: Botello y Buentello, trans. Edna G. Brown (Corpus Christi, TX: E.G. Brown, 1989). Various genealogical societies and groups, such as Los Bexareños Genealogical and Historical Society [http://www.losbexarenos.org/index.html], Society of Hispanic Historical and Ancestral Research [http://www.somosprimos.com/], and We Are Cousins [https://www.wearecousins.info/] have also promoted Hispanic heritage studies and family history involving colonial Monterrey.

41 Drawing on the pioneering work of Michel de Certeau, Hernández focuses on stories that regios, or residents of Monterrey, tell themselves concerning their city’s history. She writes, “The surviving narratives are legitimated and controlled by governmental and ecclesiastic powers. . . . The ‘legitimate’ stories assist in creating and maintaining the official identity of the nuevolenese, which is that of the fervent Catholic who in the first three centuries of Nuevo León’s history ‘valiantly’ battled the ‘barbarous’ Indians.” Marie Theresa Hernández, Delirio: The Fantastic, the Demonic, and the Réel: The Buried History of Nuevo León (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2002), 5.

18

Most of the texts are written more like pronouncements than descriptions.”42 The

situation is slowly changing since Hernández made her comments in 2002.

In his study of “debaroquization” in eighteenth-century Upper Austria, Michael

Pammer makes an important point about studying these two religious movements:

“Baroque piety or Reform Catholicism, e.g., are constructs which cannot be observed

directly – they are latent variables which are to be measured by observed indicator

variables.”43 My study pertains to variables associated with pious activities, such as

requesting masses for the dead, making bequests to the church, and giving charitable

gifts.44 Furthermore, I offer space to describe the role of devotional objects in an effort to

discuss communal, familial, and individual approaches to piety. This dissertation aims to

measure variables in piety over time to determine changes and continuities to pious

works.45 Like Leslie Offutt’s regional study on Saltillo, I intend to demonstrate that

Monterrey is a valuable case study for better understanding a specific region within

42 Hernández, Delirio, 2-3. 43 Michael Pammer, “Modeling Religion: Bureaucratic Reform and the Transformation of Popular

Piety in the 18th Century,” Historical Social Research / Historische Sozialforschung 19, no. 4 (1994): 12. 44 My approach is concerned with religious behaviors. Commenting on his approach, Hoffman

writes, “Like Vovelle and Chaunu, I labeled any demand for masses, any bequest to the Church, or any charitable donation a pious bequest. My reason for doing so is that all such acts were encouraged by the Counter-Reformation Church and all the testators in my sample were Catholic. Throughout most of this paper I shall consider these pious bequests not as evidence of religious attitudes but simply as religious behavior promoted by the Church.” Hoffman, “Pious Bequests in Wills,” 7.

45 Hoffman asks whether or not shifts in testamentary practices are significant or not. He poses several important questions researchers should consider when undertaking a study such as this: “In a sample of wills does an increase of 10 percent of funds for masses constitute a change in religious behavior? Does it show support for the Counter Reformation is it a statistical fluke? Is a given sample of wills representative? Do changes in pious bequest in the sample demonstrate real differences in practice, or are they merely shifts in the sample?” Hoffman’s solution to these questions and other dilemmas inherent in the study of wills to discern religious behaviors is a statistical technique known as the tobit analysis, whereby a “numerical measure of the effect which each variable from wealth to literacy has upon pious bequests, and the numerical measures in turn allow us to assess the effect of each variable both on the likelihood of making pious bequests and on the size of any bequests made.” Hoffman, “Wills and Statistics,” 815-816

19

colonial Mexico.46 Whereas Offutt’s focus was on the economic productivity of Saltillo’s

latifundias, or large haciendas, my focus is a study of local colonial religion. A few of the

questions to be explored as I study last wills and testaments and other colonial documents

are: What can a close reading of last wills and testaments tell us about baroque piety and

the late-eighteenth century move towards enlightened piety? What role did religious

practices play when everyday Catholics prepared for death? What sort of devotional

objects were used in colonial Monterrey and what might this suggest about the residents’

piety?

My project seeks to determine the extent to which baroque piety remained

dominant after the creation of the Diocese of Linares (later Monterrey) as evidenced in

testaments when Monterrey became an important ecclesiastical center for northeastern

Mexico, and whether an enlightened piety can be located in the testaments written after

the creation of the diocese. My hypothesis is that testamentary data will show evidence

for a hybrid of both baroque and enlightened piety. Although baroque Catholicism

remained the dominant form of Catholicism in Monterrey throughout the eighteenth

century, I expect to see a noticeable shift in the data by century’s end. I anticipate these

shifts to include a trend for “simple” funerals rather than ostentatious ones, gifts of

money designated for the poor or the hospital rather than establishing foundations, and

fewer testators holding membership in confraternities over time.

In total, I was able to locate about 260 last wills extant in the Archivo Histórico

de Monterrey (formerly Archivo Municipal de Monterrey) for the years 1700-1810.47 The

46 See Leslie S. Offutt, Saltillo, 1770-1810: Town and Region in the Mexican North (Tucson:

University of Arizona Press, 2001). 47 By contrast, this is approximately the number of wills written per year in colonial Mexico City.

20

range of years corresponds roughly to Spanish Bourbon rule, with a cutoff at Mexican

independence.48 Overall, 72 percent were made by male testators and 28 percent were

made by female testators, which is similar to Amy Porter’s findings in Saltillo and Brian

Larkin’s in Mexico City. My sample size for analysis includes 100 wills, reflecting the

gender ratio of the total number of extant wills. For each of these wills, I asked over 50

questions. Of the 260 testaments written from 1700-1810, my sample includes 50

testaments from 1700-1776 and 50 from 1777-1810 to compare and contrast data

between the time period before the founding of the diocese and the time period after. The

percentages of wills in my quantitative study reflect the sample. I include citations of

other wills outside of my sample for the qualitative study. Additionally, I have

supplemented these data with other notarial records, city council records, pastoral visits,

and parish burial records to determine trends in piety.

48 The challenge of tracking down every will was compounded when I discovered that not every

will was categorized in the books of protocols (protocolos). Some, in fact, were located in the civil branch (ramo civil). I have selected to end with 1810, signaling the start of Mexican independence, even though the Treaty of Cordoba, which Spain acknowledged Mexico’s independent constitutional monarchy, was not signed until 24 August 1821.

21

CHAPTER 1: BAROQUE CATHOLICISM AND THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT IN COLONIAL MONTERREY

On 19 January 1726 Alonso García Cuello authorized Doña María Báez Treviño y

Maya’s lengthy and substantive last will and testament.49 Doña María, one of the

wealthiest residents of colonial Monterrey, boasted an enormous estate valued at a

staggering 84,768 pesos. Given her vast wealth, it is understandable why she felt the need

to make a will and get her estate in order even though she was relatively healthy. A little

more than half of testators in colonial Monterrey made wills when they were “sick in

bed.” In these cases the notary or local government official visited the testator in order to

take notes because the testator was too ill to travel. María complained of “some habitual

aches,” as many testators, but assured Cuello, a teniente general, and her witnesses that

she had her “health and full judgment and natural memory without any current

sickness.”50 For legal purposes, it was incumbent upon the testator to demonstrate one’s

mental faculties in order to proceed with the drafting of a will.

María’s testament reads like other colonial testaments for the most part, albeit it is

longer than most due to her many assets, pious bequests, and charitable gifts, totaling 39

distinct clauses compared to a median of nearly 19 clauses per testator. Over time, wills

49 Archivo Histórico de Monterrey, Testamento de doña María Báez Treviño, 19 Enero 1726,

Protocolos volume 11, folio 350, number 135. Hereafter, I adhere to the following abbreviations: AHM, Testamento de doña María Báez Treviño, 19 Enero 1726, Prot., vol. 11, f. 350, no. 135. Also, the use of the tilde was employed inconsistently in the colonial records as well as in the archival database in the Archivo Histórico de Monterrey. For standardization, I have added tildes as they are used in modern Spanish. Even though I have not altered the spelling of names, the archival database has done this. So “Joseph” becomes “José” in the archival database. I have attempted to use the original spelling found in the wills that I have obtained, but I also relied on the archival database for other documents as well.

50 The teniente general was a military leader above the general de división but lower than the capitán general, the military leader of the crown’s armed forces.

22

have fewer clauses.51 There are, however, some things that stand out in her will. For

example, her opening clause ignored references to her parents and two legitimate sons,

who are identified later as her “universal inheritors” in clause 38.52 Also, her will opened

with the fact that she was the widow of Sargento Mayor Don Pedro Guajardo, a wealthy

businessman from Monterrey. The expression “que Dios haya” appears in parentheses

after his name, indicating “may he be with God.” Given a belief in the immortality of the

soul, María would have believed that her husband’s soul was either in one of two places

after death—in heaven with God and the saints or in purgatory for purification. Since she

later requested masses to be said for him, it is clear that she didn’t consider him a saint

quite yet. The overwhelming majority of reineros, or residents of colonial Monterrey,

would have believed they were destined for purgatory. After commending her soul to

God in clause one, an essential component found in almost all of the testaments in the

sample,53 she declared her desire to be buried next to her husband in the chapel of

Nuestra Señora de los Dolores (Our Lady of Sorrow) located in the parish church. Due to

her economic standing and good health, María must have envisioned a future in which

she would travel, though it is unclear if these trips were for business or pleasure. She

added a statement that if she died outside of the city, her executors were asked to move

her bones to the chapel in Monterrey one year after she died. Like most reineros, she

51 In the years 1700 to 1776, the median number swells to 23.5 clauses compared to 14.0 clauses

for 1777 to 1810. The data suggests that testaments generally contained fewer clauses as the eighteenth century moved forward.

52 According to clause 18, María’s marriage yielded the birth of two legitimate children, Domingo and Joaquín. In clause 31 María claimed a sum total of 37,852 pesos was owed to her. Of this amount, she intended to bequeath approximately 27,691 pesos.

53 The one exception in my sample is Bishop Rafael José Verger’s testament. Written just days before his death in 1790, the notary was forced to terminate the session as Verger lay dying on his bed at the palace and chapel dedicated to the Virgin. The complex is known as “Obispado.”

23

requested burial in “the habit of St. Francis,” for the “many indulgences that he offers.”

Also like most reineros, on the day of the burial she expressed a desire for burial

with a mass and a vigil. She requested that her body be present at the funeral, following

the cultural practice of mourning and praying for the soul as it separates from the body

until reunification on the day of the resurrection of the dead. At the funeral she instructed

her executors to give an offering of wine, bread, and wax, the three staples for the

celebration of the mass. The funeral would take place on the day of her death or the

following day, though further details concerning pomp and the funeral were left up to the

reasonable discretion of her executors. Most testators from Monterrey refrained from

indicating directions about the funeral pomp and procession, or cortege, though baroque

funerals often included one. If only the first three clauses are analyzed, the testament of

the wealthiest woman in Monterrey looks strikingly similar to that of the poorest of

testators with the exception of her specific burial requests. The main difference between

the testament of María and that of most reineros can be located in her pious bequests and

charitable gifts.

As others in Monterrey, María allotted one-fifth (quinto) of her estate (clause 33)

to pay for her “funeral, pious works, and gifts,” the maximum amount permitted by the

24

Spanish crown.54 In an earlier time the church may have been privy to more of one’s

estate. S.L. Cline observes the sixteenth-century situation among indigenous peoples in

New Spain:

The church might have been insistent on the making of wills because ecclesiastics received money for masses through testamentary bequests. The church likely saw itself as competing with heirs for a portion of the estate. In 1588, the Crown forbade wills in which Indians disinherited kin to pay for masses. Perhaps in the absence of heirs, the church did not look sternly on intestacy because it received the whole estate.55

However, a 1776 royal decree condemned confessors who attempted to convince testators

on their deathbed to give away their assets.56 Its publication suggests that at least some

confessors attempted to sway testators. Nevertheless, for María, one-fifth of her massive

estate would have totaled 10,800 pesos, an amount greater than the value of most of her

54 Given the importance placed on pious work, the Spanish crown allowed testators to designate

one-fifth of one’s estate to pay for the funeral and pious bequests. This works out to three of the fifteen shares of the property destined to pay the testator's funeral expenses, bequests, and debts. For an example, see Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 169. Allyson Poska explains the origins of the practice: “Beginning with the 1505 Leyes de Toro, Spanish elites could circumvent partible inheritance through the creation of mayorazgos (entitled estates), but the ability to create such an estate was limited to the aristocracy and required royal permission. However, there was a mechanism for the rest of the population to favour one heir over the others: the creation of a mejora (millora in Galego). The formula for its creation was clear, if not exactly simple. According to Castilian law, when a person died four-fifths of the estate had to remain within the direct line and all legitimate heirs (typically children) had to share equally in those four-fifths (their legítima). The remaining one-fifth (quinto) of the estate was designated for funeral expenses, pious works, and free bequests. Once the funeral was paid for and the charity distributed, the testator could give the rest of that one-fifth to whoever he or she chose. In addition, testators could set aside one-third (tercio) of the estate as an additional bequest (mejora del tercio) for a favoured heir. Consequently, a testator could bequeath to a single heir the entirety of the tercio as well as the quinto, known as a mejora del tercio y quinto. For those testators who chose the option of a mejora, the partible portion of the estate was determined by subtracting the third and the fifth. The remaining estate was then equally divided among all heirs who were due legítimas, including the beneficiary of the mejora.” Allyson M. Poska, Women and Authority in Early Modern Spain: The Peasants of Galicia: The Peasants of Galicia (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 48.

55 S.L. Cline, Colonial Culhuacan, 1580-1600, 21. 56 Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo León (hereafter AGENL), Asuntos Eclesiásticos

(hereafter A.E.) 1/58, Cédula Real donde son acusados los confesores que olvidándose de su conciencia, con sugestiones, inducen a los penitentes y a los en tránsito de muerte, a dejar sus herencias, con título de fideicomiso o con el fin de hacer obras pías a ellos mismos. 1776. Cd. De México.

25

fellow reineros’ estates.57 Why was so much of one’s assets designated for the funeral,

pious directives, and gifts? What exactly were these funds designated for? María’s

bequests are emblematic of baroque practices. On the day of her death, María asked for a

novena (novenario) of sung masses followed by two novenas of low masses with

doubles.58 Masses for the dead and prayers for the deceased immediately following one’s

death were considered to be especially efficacious.59 A novena consisted of nine days of

mourning, suffrages (pious works), and devotion following the death of an individual.60

On the altar of Nuestra Señora del Perdón in Mexico City, María requested some 600

masses to benefit her soul. Maria showed appreciation for those who worked with her

husband and herself. At the same altar, she asked for another 300 low masses with alms

intended for the “souls of all of those people with whom my said husband and I ever

made some deal or traded.” Another 50 masses were to be said on the altar for the souls

of her two sons, though remained unnamed and unidentified at this point in the testament,

and deceased servants. She offered a stipend of four reales per mass, for a total of 450

pesos, for these masses.61 She gave two pesos to each beneficiary of the mandatory gifts

57 María’s will requires the “fifth” to be taken from her estate after subtracting Domingo’s

inheritance and setting aside payment for masses to be said at the chapel in her house. Considering these two requests total a little more than 30,000 pesos, the fifth comes from an amount totaling 54,000 pesos.

58 There were a variety of forms of the Tridentine mass. A high mass (misa solemna) was officiated by a priest who was accompanied by a deacon and subdeacon, and thus they were more expensive than a low mass (misa rezada), which was recited by a single priest. Another type of low mass was a sung mass (misa cantada), whereby a priest sung certain parts without the assistance of a deacon or subdeacon.

59 Describing the Spanish context, Allyson Poska writes, “For some testators, Masses said in the moments immediately following death had the greatest efficacy,” especially within twenty-four hours after death. See Allyson M. Poska, Regulating the People: The Catholic Reformation in Seventeenth-Century Spain (Leiden: Brill, 1998), 148.

60 The Greeks and the Romans also had a practice of mourning nine days after the death of a community member. For the Christian origin of the practice, some Catholics appeal to a post-resurrected Christ who commanded his apostles to wait in Jerusalem for the beginning of the feast of Pentecost, associating the waiting period with nine days (Acts 1:4). Nine, of course, hints symbolically to the Trinity (3 x 3). According to Jerome in the Commentary on Ezekiel 7:24, “the number nine is indicative of suffering and grief.”

61 Eight reales equal one peso.

26

(mandas forzosas) in addition 50 pesos to the guardian of the convent Nuestra Señora de

Gualeguas, a Franciscan mission founded to indoctrinate the Agualeguas indigenous

peoples of northeastern Mexico.

From the one-fifth of her estate allocated for the funeral, good works, and

charitable gifts, she set aside 1,500 pesos to earn interest money in order to benefit

education in Monterrey “in case the Jesuit fathers establish a new college [school] in this

city and place an instructor who teaches the first rudiments of reading, writing, and

grammar to boys and to facilitate this in the poor.”62 The concern for the poor in

testaments can be seen as far back as medieval Europe, so their appearance in colonial

testaments is neither unique nor due to later Bourbon religious reforms.63 In an area with

a long history of Franciscan missionary work concern for the poor would have been

important.64 Many Franciscans would have been responsible for teaching boys the basic

rudiments of reading and the faith, yet Maria’s testament alluded to the possible arrival of

the Jesuits, known for their expertise in preaching, teaching, and training up boys as

“soldiers of the pope.” In another clause María added a gift of 300 pesos to help with

supplies for the saying of mass. She dedicated this money for her devotion to St. Francis

Xavier, a Spaniard from Navarre, companion of Ignatius Loyola, and one of the first

Jesuits.

María’s wealth allowed her to support a number of religious causes in and around

62 AHM, Testamento de doña María Báez Treviño, 19 Enero 1726, Prot., vol. 11, f. 350, no. 135. 63 The Bourbon religious reforms encouraged testators to give gifts to the poor and other charitable

causes rather than request an exorbitant number of masses for the dead. This longitudinal study seeks to determine changes and continuities concerning pious bequests.

64 For a history of the Franciscans in Nuevo León, see Israel Cavazos Garza, “La Obra Franciscana en Nuevo León,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 2 (1961): 437-452 and Plinio D. Ordóñez, “Las Misiones Franciscanas del Nuevo Reino de León (1575-1715),” Antropología 67 (2002): 44-50.

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Monterrey. For example, tucked within her will is one of the earliest appearances of

Nuestra Señora del Roble in the colonial record. María bequeathed a sum of 100 pesos to

purchase materials (fábrica) for mass at the chapel of Nuestra Señora del Nogal, or “Our

Lady of the Walnut Tree,” in honor of Monterrey’s local apparition of the Virgin.65

María’s testament does not specify membership in a confraternity, but the appearance of

charitable gifts or debts to a specific confraternity often signaled membership implicitly.

She also gave 300 pesos to the devotion of Jesús Nazareno, an image of Jesus of

Nazareth located in the Franciscan convent.

Elite reineros often owned religious art and other paraphernalia and used these

objects for devotions in their homes, yet rather than bequeath these objects to her sons,

María opted to give some of them to chapels in the region. To the chapel of Santo Cristo

in Saltillo, called los Penas, she bequeathed vestments for the priest to wear during

liturgical functions and objects for use during the mass.66 To the image of Santo Cristo in

Tlaxcala de Boca de Leones she bequeathed a “baldachin [canopy] made from purple silk

or another kind of decent satin to adorn the Lord.”67 María also possessed other religious

art and devotional objects. Among her massive collection were a large image of Nuestra

Señora covered in silver accompanied with a holy water font, four religious paintings, an

ivory statue of St. Joseph, an image of the infant Jesus, and a golden eagle. Since she did

65 The appellation “Nogal” appears earlier than “Roble” in the textual record. 66 Among the vestments and liturgical objects listed were a chasuble, or the vestment that is worn

above other garments during liturgical services, a stole, a manipule, or silk or damask worn over the left forearm, a covering for the corporal, or linen cloth used to catch any fallen particles of the host, once the mass finishes, a chalice cloth (purificator) used to wipe the chalice and paten, an altar cloth (frontal), a pall, or a cover used over the chalice during mass, an alb, or long white garment, and an amice, or vestment worn around the neck and shoulders.

67 The Spanish reads, “baldaquín de damasco morado o de otro género de raso decente para adorno del Señor.” A baldachin refers to a canopy placed over an altar.

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not designate the beneficiaries these items, they presumably went to her primary heirs.

In total, María’s wealth afforded her the opportunity to do more postmortem than

most reineros could have done. Her will stipulated 19 distinct pious bequests gifts,

including 10 charitable gifts. Reineros on average bequeathed just under six pious

bequests per testator.68 A close reading of María’s will serves as an entryway into the

realm of baroque Catholicism in colonial Monterrey. The aim of this chapter is threefold.

First, I will explore several important characteristics of baroque Catholicism, the

dominate form of religious piety in colonial Mexico and determine how these

characteristics were manifested in colonial Monterrey. Secondly, I will offer a brief

history of colonial Monterrey in an effort to understand the unique historical context of

the last wills and testaments under review in this study. Lastly, I will introduce the last

will and testament in colonial Monterrey as a formulaic document composed by the

notary with input from the testator. It is the purpose of this chapter to prepare the reader

for a detailed analysis of the testaments forthcoming in subsequent chapters.

Characteristics of Baroque Catholicism

Baroque Catholicism refers to the highly ritualistic and ostentatious practices of

post-Tridentine Catholicism. Brian Larkin aptly calls baroque Catholicism a “religion of

outward gesture and ritual observance” founded on the notion that there were not sharp

68 To obtain the number of pious bequests per testator, I included pious bequests concerning the

funeral and religious activities intended for the benefit of the testator’s soul after the funeral. These types of bequests include masses, charitable gifts to religious institutions, and funeral preferences, such as burial in a Franciscan shroud or observance of a novena. The median amount of pious bequests per testator was just under five, indicating that a several testators in my sample contributed many bequests.

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differences between “a symbol and the thing it symbolized.”69 The French term

“baroque,” possibly originating from the word for “imperfect pearl,” refers to something

that is “elaborate” and can be applied to range of aspects spanning the cultural gamut—

architecture, music, literature, etc.70 In the late twentieth century French scholar Michel

Vovelle popularized the term in his study of seventeenth-and eighteenth-century wills in

Provence. For Vovelle, baroque Catholicism was characterized by a host of rituals that

focused on outward piety, such as masses for the dead, elaborate funeral processions,

excessive spending on ritual objects, the use of ex-votos and candles, and the belief in a

world filled with magical powers.71 Far from being novel, these rituals have deep roots in

medieval Catholicism. Vovelle discovered that these rituals and beliefs were mainstays in

the wills of southern France throughout the seventeenth and the first half of the

eighteenth century. Afterwards, they began to taper off due to what he referred to as

“dechristianization,” or the process whereby traditional Christian practices were

abandoned for secular ones. With the exception of large metropolitan cities, pious

bequests aligned to baroque concerns remained a fixture in wills throughout the

eighteenth century for much of New Spain.72

69 An image of a saint, therefore, was considered by many to be the actual saint on earth even

though the saint resided in heaven, the abode of God. Larkin, The Very Nature of God, 4, 6. 70 The Spanish term “barroco/a” possibly derives from the Portuguese term barroco, meaning

“irregular pearl” and signaling something that is ornate. Another suggestion is that the term comes from a specific scholastic syllogism, giving rise to the idea of something that is elaborate. For more, see Real Academia Española, s.v. “Barroco,ca,” http://dle.rae.es/?id=59BRieE&o=h.

71 Ex-votos refer to votive offerings made to a saint in a church, chapel, or shrine. The term derives from the Latin phrase ex voto suscepto, or “from the vow made,” referencing the fulfillment of a vow, devotion, or statement of gratitude.

72 In large cities like Mexico City, Veracruz, and Puebla Pamela Voekel’s Alone Before God has demonstrated a shift in pious bequests from traditional baroque concerns dealing with the immortal soul and community-oriented ritual to modern, secular concerns dealing with the individual. More recently, Amy Porter’s Their Lives, Their Wills (2015) demonstrates that traditional baroque piety remained fixed throughout the eighteenth century in places like Saltillo and San Esteban de Nueva Tlaxcala.

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Baroque Catholicism emerged from the Council of Trent’s vindication of late-

medieval Catholic practices against the surge of Protestantism. The very religious

practices John Calvin and the host of second wave reformers wailed against—penance,

purgatory, the cult of the saints, ostentatious masses, pomp funerals, feast days, and

widespread use of religious art for devotional purposes—were vigorously defended by

the sacerdotal elite during the council (1545-1563). Entire canons were written to shore

up the church’s biblical, theological, and historical defense for the aforementioned

doctrines and practices.73 The Protestant challenge coupled with internal criticisms within

the Catholic Church led a discussion on a range of issues from church authority to the

biblical canon, from the concept of grace and works to the number, function, and

substance of the sacraments. The Council of Trent reaffirmed the traditional way of

parsing the Eucharist wafer as “truly, really, and substantially” Christ upon consecration;

however, the bishops also attempted to respond to the criticisms leveled by the internal

reformers. 74 They vigorously condemned any “superstitious”—always a bad word in the

sixteenth century regardless of one’s confession—practices and abuses, especially

concerning the mass.75 Priests were called upon to abandon “pagan” practices that sought

73 For example, canon 29 concerns penance and canon 30 concerns purgatory. 74 In terms of the Eucharist, the council proclaimed, “First of all, the holy council teaches and

openly and plainly professes that after the consecration of bread and wine, our Lord Jesus Christ, true God and true man, is truly, really, and substantially contained in the august sacrament of the Holy Eucharist under the appearance of those sensible things.” H.J. Schroeder, trans., The Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent (Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, Inc., 1978), 73. One of the most vocal internal critics was the humanist Erasmus of Rotterdam. Erasmus rejected medieval logic in favor of biblical language study. In particular, he railed against what he perceived as a false piety dependent on props and show. His positive attitude towards marriage and criticisms against traditional piety led some to charge him with being a Lutheran, though Erasmus remained a life-long Catholic. For a summary of Erasmus’s work, see Erika Rummel, Erasmus (New York: Continuum, 2004). Rummel sets out to arrange her work to show Erasmus’s progression on ideas pertaining to literature, education, piety, political thought, biblical scholarship, and theological controversy.

75 There is a long history in western thought that polarizes superstition and religion, the former being crude and excessive the latter being pure and right. In De Natura Deorum Cicero tolerated religio but not superstitio.

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to align the number of masses and candles to any “superstitious worship rather than in

true religion.”76 Ultimately, Trent’s impact on official and popular versions of

Catholicism led to “a golden age for miracles and mysticism, during which the

miraculous physical phenomena associated with mystical ecstasy became more

pronounced than ever before among Catholics.”77

The core theological issue in the Catholic-Protestant divide was the idea of

“justification by faith.” For Protestants, a Christian is justified by faith alone, hence sola

fide; for Catholics, one is justified by faith, and true faith merits good works.78 The

practical result of the Catholic understanding was that if one were to fall, from a state of

grace, justification may be regained through a combination of faith and works, such as

“fasts, alms, prayers and other devout exercises of the spiritual life.”79 The church

encouraged devotees to participate in religious acts for the spiritual benefit of their souls.

Recalling María’s will, her request of 1,000+ masses for her soul and the souls of her

family and business associates coupled with the pious directives intended to benefit the

community makes sense if understood in the context of Catholic justification as

pronounced at Trent. Baroque Catholicism, thus, functioned as an extension of Tridentine

theological ideals. The church in Mexico adhered to the Tridentine pronouncements

concerning baroque Catholicism. The Third Mexican Provincial Council (1585) decreed

76 Schroeder, The Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent, 151. 77 Carlos M.N. Eire, Reformations: The Early Modern World, 1450-1650 (New Haven: Yale

University Press, 2016), 754. 78 Both sides clamored to their proof texts. For Protestants, “For by grace you have been saved

through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8), and for Catholics, “You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone” (James 2:24).

79 Schroeder, The Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent, 39.

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priests to celebrate the liturgy with “the greatest splendor and ornamentation.”80

Attention will now be given to four characteristics of baroque Catholicism with the

purpose to understand better the reasons for particular pious directives in the testaments:

(1) theology of sacred immanence, (2) splendor and grandeur of worship, (3) community-

oriented piety, and (4) ostentatious, emotional, and sensual ritual.

The sights and sounds and the smells and bells of baroque Catholicism resonated

with a “time of enchantment” poetically thought of as a “great enchanted garden,” to

invoke Weber.81 God, angels, demons, and spirits filled the world of eighteenth-century

testators. The basic theological supposition of baroque Catholicism is sacred immanence,

the idea that the sacred resides and manifests itself through physical objects. Trent

favored the idea of an imminent God who works through matter rather than the Protestant

idea of a radically spiritual and distant God.82 For example, Carlos Eire observes that “In

the sixteenth century, it was the Protestants north of the Pyrenees who conceived of

‘material’ and ‘spiritual’ as polarities; Spanish Catholics, as a rule, saw the two spheres

as intimately related and they were not inclined toward polarization in their ritual life.”83

The Second Council of Nicaea (787) made the fine distinction between worship and

80 Mariano Galván Rivera, ed., Concilio III Provincial Mexicano, celebrado en México el año

1585, confirmado en Roma por el papa Sixto V, y mandado observar por el gobierno español en diversas reales órdenes (Barcelona: Miró y D. Marsá, 1870), 208.

81 Borrowing the concept from Friedrich Schiller, Weber’s project concerned itself with the “disenchantment of the world” in which traditional society gave way to the modern, secular society of the West. Max Weber, The Sociology of Religion, 4th ed. (Boston: Beacon Press, [1922] 1993), 270.

82 Protestants, however, were not alone in this depiction of God. Most notably, Erasmus’ Platonic dualism engendered a highly transcendental concept of God and thus worship. Proper end of man, for Erasmus, is to rise to the world above and enjoy the presence of God in order to escape from the chains down below. In Praise of Folly, Erasmus broke with his medieval predecessors and argued that images were not aids but distractions in worship. For Erasmus, language served as the primary link between the divine and human, pointing to why he and other humanists advocated for studying biblical languages. Although the spiritual is both invisible and interior, it is expressed via language.

83 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 250.

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veneration, affirming the use of images previously suppressed by Byzantine iconoclasm.

Medieval theologians worked out the theology of divinity and matter and the appropriate

human response. Thomas Aquinas distinguished among three categories, explaining

latria as worship given to God alone, hyperdulia as veneration given to the Blessed

Virgin Mary, and dulia as reverence due to the saints.84 Trent promoted the role of the

saints and the need for images as a means to encourage devotees to fulfill pious actions.

Images “served the Tridentine goals of didacticism, veneration, and even conversion.”85

What made sense to the upper echelon of theologians often became obfuscated at the

popular level and the line between latria and dulia blurred. Also, Trent sought to

distinguish between the sacred and the profane. Images, for example, needed the approval

of the local bishop to be venerated in a parish church, stripping popular yet unofficial

saints from a place in the official pantheon of holy ones.

Reineros were exposed to great wonders found in hagiographies of the saints,

whereby the climax of each story showcased the power of the divine to act in the world,

such as cutting down an ancient pagan tree despite all odds or miraculously surviving

being shot with arrows.86 They had possibly heard of the many biblical examples

whereby God worked a miracle through a relic or object.87 Although there were a

84 Aquinas cited book 10 of Augustine’s De Civitate Dei for support in his discussion of latria and

dulia. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, II-II: q. 103, art. 1-4. 85 Lauren G. Kilroy-Ewbank, “Holy Organ or Unholy Idol? Forming a History of the Sacred Heart

in New Spain,” Colonial Latin American Review 23, no. 3 (2014): 329. 86 For example, the hagiographies of Martin of Tours and Boniface each depict the respective saint

as one who cut down a pine or oak tree, and Sebastian who survived after arrows were shot in his chest during persecution by Diocletian.

87 For example, in the Hebrew Bible the bones of the prophet Elisha brought a dead man back to life (2 Kings 13:20-21) and in the New Testament a woman was cured of a hemorrhage after touching Christ’s cloak (Matthew 9:20-22), the sick were healed once Peter’s shadow passed over them (Acts 5:14-16), and the sick were healed and evil spirits left when they came into contact with Paul’s handkerchiefs (σουδάρια) or aprons (σιμικίνθια) (Acts 19:11-12).

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plethora of literary examples about divine presence, sacred immanence most often

emanated itself through ritual practice. The testators recited the creed at mass, invoking

the belief in an incarnated Jesus “conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary,”

and they said their prayers through the use of rosary beads and images in their homes. At

mass they witnessed the climactic moment of consecration when the priest recited the

words, “hoc est enim corpus meum,” beholding all to see the profane (bread) had become

the sacred (Christ).88

Common material things—wine, bread, water, oil, and the imposition of hands—

were employed in sacraments, conferring grace upon the participant.89 In the wills wine,

bread, and wax typically appear as gifts offered by the deceased at the funeral mass.90

Testators generally gave three types of gifts to the Eucharist and images: (1) candles,

wax, and oil for illumination, (2) clothing or jewelry, or (3) pesos or goods to purchase

adornments.91 Sacramentals, or objects and actions blessed by the church, are common in

the testaments. Examples of sacramentals include Franciscan burial habits, candles, holy

water, prayers, and alms. Devotional articles such as images, sculptures, paintings, rosary

beads, scapulars, and medals served as conduits for the divine. It is not surprising then to

find these items periodically mentioned in the testaments, especially when they were of

88 Transubstantiation, a term employed by Hildebert de Lavardin as early as the eleventh century

but classically formulated by Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century, described the dual change of substance—the bread and wine essentially become the body and blood of Christ, though their accidents (outer appearance) remain bread and wine.

89 Since Peter Lombard, the Catholic Church teaches that there are seven sacraments that confer grace upon the participant. The sacraments are baptism, confirmation, the Eucharist, confession, marriage, holy orders, and extreme unction.

90 In the Hebrew Bible, the Israelites were commanded to tithe on agricultural goods, especially grains, wine, and olive oil (see Deuteronomy 12:17), thus later becoming highly symbolic for the church.

91 These three categories found in wills from Monterrey are the same that Brian Larkin uncovered in the testaments from Mexico City. See Larkin, The Very Nature of God, 39.

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great value economically or sentimentally. Religious objects of all types were often

included in the deceased’s inventory of goods.

Another characteristic of baroque Catholicism was an emphasis on the splendor

and grandeur of the church. Recalling a definition of baroque as “ornate,” church leaders

actively sought to instill a sense of wealth and church power. During the Middle Ages,

the church aimed for a “heaven on earth” feel in the largest of cathedrals by emphasizing

verticality, high altars, and natural light. The construction of gothic cathedrals throughout

Europe took decades to build and were the most opulent of architectural structures for the

time. In the early modern era baroque structures generally broadened the nave, made an

even greater contrast between light and dark, known as chiaroscuro, and often used

opulent ornaments and color to offer a distinguished look. 92 Despite these differences in

structural and artistic design the overall purpose of the baroque structures was similar

compared to the purpose of their medieval predecessors. Churches were heavenly

microcosms whereby the structure aimed parishioners to experience “heaven on earth,” if

only for a brief time. Music also played an important role in the “spectacle” of Tridentine

aesthetics.93 Decked with a host of images, multiple altars, and countless relics, the

church encouraged devotees to encounter the sacred through ritual and the body while

recognizing the grandeur of the church. Protestants had railed against sacred immanence

in the late medieval worship by stripping their church altars of images and ornaments.

Trent, in its twenty-second session in 1562, defended the church’s ceremonies that had

92 The stark contrast between light and shade is widely known in Caravaggio’s paintings. Darkness

pervades the backdrop to some of his most famous works of art, for example Judith Beheading Holofernes (1598-1599), The Crucifixion of Saint Peter (1601), and David with the Head of Goliath (1609-1610).

93 Ramos-Kittrell states that the “cathedral of Mexico strived to celebrate ceremonies ‘with all pomposity.’ In the cathedral, music was the primordial element used to elevate and adorn liturgical practices.” Ramos-Kittrell, “Music, Liturgy, and Devotional Piety in New Spain,” 81.

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developed from “apostolic discipline and tradition.” The council thundered back at the

church’s critics that adornment and objects in ritual heightened the sacred because these

physical objects moved souls toward contemplating the divine, culminating in the

celebration of the Eucharist.94

The largest of the colonial Mexican cities featured splendor and grandeur through

their ornate and spacious cathedrals. Mexico City, for example, broke ground as early as

1573 for its metropolitan cathedral. As often the case with colonial Mexican cathedrals,

the building project required much time and many resources were needed to complete.

The impending structure features two bell towers with some 25 bells, five naves, and a

large central dome. On the inside the cathedral has five altars, 16 chapels, a choir, a

sacristy and over 150 windows. The growth of Christianity in the New World not only

meant that dioceses and parish churches needed to be established, but also missions and

doctrinas in order to teach the indigenous peoples. In describing this new architectural

design applied to churches, called Churrigueresque, Brading notes that

in the sixty years 1730-1790, the altars and facades of Mexican churches, hitherto divided into rectangular panels, their decoration and pillars all dominated by a horizontal emphasis, seemed to dance, as the traditional order of the Renaissance were dissolved and replaced by estípetes, niched pilastres and elaborate mouldings, the sculptural detail entirely subordinated to the upward movement of the entire frame.95

94 The Council of Trent reasoned that “the majesty of so great a sacrifice as might be emphasized

and the minds of the faithful excited by those visible signs of religion and piety to the contemplation of those most sublime things which are hidden in this sacrifice.” Schroeder, The Canons and Decrees of the Council of Trent, 147.

95 Brading, “Tridentine Catholicism and Enlightened Despotism in Bourbon Mexico,” Journal of Latin American Studies 15, no. 1 (1983): 4.

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In places of wealth and highly populated areas, it is not surprising to find such impressive

structures. The baroque cathedral signaled church dominance and wealth, both of which

would be circumscribed in the eighteenth-century Bourbon reforms; however, what did

the colonial splendor and grandeur look like in a relatively impoverished region of

northeastern Mexico?

The earliest colonial efforts in Monterrey to build churches and shrines were

meagre. Testators from Monterrey revealed a desire to make physical improvements to

enhance worship and piety and contribute to the necessary materials to celebrate the mass

even in the economically challenged northeast. In his 1725 testament, Antonio García

Coello, a high-ranking colonial official, left a considerable fortune to fund building

improvements and local altars. Don Antonio bequeathed 1,300 pesos to roof the Church

of San Francisco Javier, 1,000 pesos to rebuild the convent of San Francisco, 2,000 pesos

for an altar to Jesús María in the convent of San Francisco and a house for the priest of

the hospice of Boca de Leones, 300 pesos to build a shrine to Nuestra Señora del Nogal,

and 200 to put a gold layering over the high altar in Monterrey’s parish church.96 The

latter bequest was fulfilled in 1728. In his 1759 testament, General Domingo Miguel

Guajardo, María’s eldest son, left a considerable sum to benefit the adornment of worship

spaces in Monterrey. Domingo’s will called for 1,000 pesos to be given to construct the

96 Antonio García Coello died in Monterrey during the year 1730, five years after making his

testament. As per his request, he was buried in the Franciscan convent on 8 March. This information derives from Israel Cavazos Garza, “Antonio García Coello,” in Diccionario Biográfico de Nuevo León, vol. 1 (Monterrey, NL: Universidad Autónoma de Nuevo León, 1984), 166-167. I was unable to locate the original testament in the Archivo Histórico de Monterrey, though there are several documents in which his name appears as a tenienete de gobernador. Although it is possible that his testament was neither written in Monterrey nor a copy of it was stored in the archive, it is far more likely that his testament was not catalogued correctly, meaning the only way to recover it now would be to undertake the arduous task of looking for it on every page in the Protocolos and Civil collections.

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parish church’s tower and dome base (cimborrio y bóveda) and another 1,000 pesos to

rebuild and repair the Franciscan convent’s church.97 Even though the constraints of a

young settlement undergoing severe economic hardships is evident throughout the

colonial era, more often than not elite reineros often left funds and goods as a means to

adorn the parish, convent, and shrines in and around Monterrey, making a lasting

contribution for the benefit of others and obtaining spiritual merit for the benefit of their

souls.

By 1791, when efforts to build a new cathedral led by Bishop Llanos y Valdés

met considerable resistance from the governor and city officials who rejected a request

for a large amount of funds, the crown sponsored a renovation turning the old parish

church into the newly minted metropolitan cathedral.98 Still, the church had come a long

way since Monterrey’s first parish church, the iglesia mayor, perennially susceptible to

flooding and fire throughout the seventeenth century, and the early seventeenth-century

convent named in honor of St. Andrew (San Andrés). Nineteenth-century historian of

Monterrey, José Eleuterio González, recorded that “In 1710 the parish ‘hut’ (jacal) had

been destroyed and the convent of San Francisco burned, so the chapel of San Francisco

Javier remained as the only serviceable church, though because it too had a grass

covering for a roof it ran the risk of burning, which would have left the city without a

97 Bóveda possibly includes the crypt. AHM, Testamento del Gral. Domingo Miguel Guajardo, 8

Mayo 1759, Prot., vol.16, f. 3, no. 38. 98 For a published version of the bishop’s affairs in Monterrey, see Andrés Ambrosio de Llanos y

Valdés, Primer libro de Gobierno del Señor Andrés Ambrosio de Llanos y Valdés 1792-1799, ed. José Antonio Portillo Valadez (Monterrey: Arzobispado de Monterrey, 2001). On his involvement in renting church properties, see Offutt, Saltillo, 1770-1810, 98.

39

church.”99 The colonial government paid 600 pesos to put shingles on the roof of the

Jesuit church. The Jesuits possessed the chapel for 30 years until they abandoned it, and it

became the palace of the governor. Testators provided for the construction of shrines, too.

A wealthy benefactor named Petra Gómez de Castro, the widow of General Don Salvador

Lozano, gave funds to build a chapel dedicated to Nuestra Señora del Roble.

Baroque testators often donated material gifts to promote divine immanence and

the grandeur of worship. In his study of baroque Catholicism in Bourbon Mexico City,

Brian Larkin states that “Gifts of wax, candles, and oil served multiple functions and

could have various meanings for the testators who bestowed them.”100 Artificial light was

an absolute necessity for dark cathedrals and churches, yet light also functioned as an

important symbol for Christ, declared to be the “Light of the World.”101 Beeswax was

symbolic of Christ’s flesh during the medieval period, since Christians associated bees

and virginity.102 To increase the grandeur of worship, a testator often provided money or

goods; however, several reinero elites donated images of Christ, Mary, or a saint for the

adornment of sacred space. The parish church was not the only recipient of these images;

testators also gave to a variety of religious buildings and shrines.

Wealthy residents often bequeathed images, paintings, clothing, jewelry, and

decorative objects to the parish church and the convent. In 1767, Leonor Gómez de

Castro decided to face the inevitable and accept that death was on its way. With her

99 José Eleuterio González, Apuntes para la historia eclesiástica de las provincias que formaron el

obispado de Linares, desde su primer origen hasta que se fijó definitivamente la silla episcopal en Monterrey (Monterrey: Relig. de J. Chaves, 1877), 118-119.

100 Larkin, The Very Nature of God, 39. 101 The expression derives from John 8:12. There are many biblical references associating God and

Jesus to light, giving rise to a solar theology in the early church. 102 Whereas the “queen bee” functioned as the reproductive bee, common bees were thought to be

too industrious to be concerned with sexual reproduction.

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health “broken,” as she put it, and her husband deceased, she set out to dictate her last

will and testament. Leonor was the wealthy widow of Domingo Miguel Guajardo,

María’s oldest son who inherited over 30,000 pesos from his mother. Leonor set out to

spruce up the local convent and area chapels. She declared, “It is my will that the curtains

in my bedroom and in front of my door (antepuertas de damasco) be shared equally with

the chapel of Nuestra Señora de los Dolores of the parish church and the said church of

St. Francis.”103 If for some reason the aforementioned parish church or convent refused

them, she requested that the curtains be sold and the funds be distributed equally.

Additionally, she donated candlesticks that were possibly used in her home altar.

Whereas worship in the home promoted solidarity in the family, participation in the

liturgy of the church and its celebrations promoted solidarity in the community.

Baroque Catholics emphasized a communal approach to their religious tradition in

many of the same ways as their medieval counterparts.104 The celebration of the

sacraments mandated the participation of the community. Rituals functioned as a kind of

social glue and cohesive bond that brought together a variety of social groups, even

though the divisions among social classes never completely dissolved.105 Speaking of this

unity, Ramos-Kittrell writes, “the exercise of religious ritual was a homogenizing agent

positioning the church as a leading entity in the social hierarchy in which the shared

103 AHM, Testamento e inventario de Bienes de Doña María Leonor Gómez de Castro, 3 Febrero

1768, Ramo Civil, vol. 98, exp. 10, f. 0. The will is dated 2 December 1767, with the inventory written after her death in 1768.

104 Colonial Mexico retained a number of medieval practices. For an overview, see Luis Weckmann, The Medieval Heritage of Mexico, trans. Frances M. López-Morillas (New York: Fordham University Press, 1992).

105 For example, burial order and writing a will were largely determined by one’s socio-economic status.

41

histories and values from ethnically diverse groups converged.”106 In colonial Mexico

parish churches were built in the plaza, the heart of the city, replacing a position

previously occupied by the temple of indigenous religion. Once cities grew, other

churches and chapels were built in local neighborhoods to encourage participation in the

sacraments and other church activities. The Third Mexican Provincial Council of 1585

required Spanish Catholics to attend mass each Sunday and participate in 44 feast

days.107 Clearly not every Mexican Catholic fulfilled this obligation, but many probably

did and attended mass even when it was not required by the official church. The

testaments reveal a genuine and authentic concern for salvation and avoidance of a

prolonged stay in purgatory. Dying, death, and burial reflected the communal nature of

their religious tradition.

In the thirteenth century the Spanish King Alonso the Wise set out to list the

reasons why church burial should be preferred over suburban burial. He argued that the

dead benefitted from the prayers of the living and received protection from the patrons of

the church structure, the saints.108 As one scholar put it, pre-Reformation Catholicism

functioned as “a cult of the living in service of the dead.”109 The statement could also be

made about the baroque Mexican Church. Spaniards who migrated to New Spain brought

106 Ramos-Kittrell, “Music, Liturgy, and Devotional Piety in New Spain,” 83. 107 Undoubtedly, some of these feasts fell on Sundays. The feast of St. Hippolytus, the patron of

Mexico City, was required only in Mexico City, and the list of required feasts for the Indians was substantially abbreviated. Galván Rivera, Concilio III Provincial Mexicano, 147-153.

108 Alonso X also contended that church burial made sense because Christians were closer to God than pagans, so they should be buried in churches, places of God. Furthermore, Alonso reasoned that the dead who were buried in suburban cemeteries were more susceptible to demonic forces, but church burial afforded protection against this. Voekel relied on the Siete Partidas, a thirteenth-century legal code, to ascertain these arguments for medieval Spanish burial. See Voekel, Alone Before God, 17.

109 A.N. Galpern, “Late Medieval Piety in Sixteenth-Century Champagne,” in The Pursuit of Holiness in Late Medieval and Renaissance Religion, eds. Charles Trinkaus and Heiko A. Oberman (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1974), 149.

42

with them the practice of church burial and concern for the dead. Baroque Catholics

promoted a symbiotic relationship between the living and the dead, traditionally rendered

the church militant and the church triumphant. Church burial served as a visible prompt

for the living to remember the dead while reminding the living that they were not alone.

The saints protected both the living and the dead, the dead needed the prayers of the

saints and the living to escape the torment of purgatory, and the living needed the saints

to protect them in the here and now as well as the dead who provided them a sense of

purpose and obligation.

The very act of writing a testament involved the community. If the testator feared

death was near, a priest would have been called to the bed of the testator to administer

last rites. Baroque Catholics maintained the notion of a “good death” from their medieval

predecessors. A good death entailed one in which the dying had sufficient time to amend

wrongs and settle one’s accounts. Testaments aimed to accomplish this in a culturally and

legally accepted document. Whereas the priest oversaw the church’s official rites

pertaining to dying, the colonial notary heard the expressed will and drew up the

testament according to the wishes of the testator or individual granted poder, or power,

by the testator. To legalize a testament, at least three to five witnesses were required to

sign. In cases in which the testator could not sign his/her name, one of the witnesses

signed for the testator. Not only were rituals community-oriented, but they were also

ostentatious, sensual, and emotional.

Baroque piety can be described by the sights, sounds, and smells it evoked. Larkin

describes performative piety, as the “key to salvation,” since participants sought to

43

connect and commune with the divine.110 Feast day processions and pilgrimages

incorporated large groups of people marking off sacred space during sacred time as they

participated in these activities. Singing, wailing, the use of distinctive clothing, carrying

images, and carrying floats (pasos), dressing as penitential Nazarenes or Roman soldiers,

were all outward aspects of the ritualized experience. Holy Week processions often lasted

the entire week leading up to Easter. Penitential piety was also practiced in colonial

Mexico. Rather than condemning self-flagellation or the processions made by the

flagellants during Holy Week, the Third Mexican Provincial Council of 1585 encouraged

the laity to attend the mass.111 With its focus on communal and sensual aspects of ritual,

testators often requested to be buried in the church and as close to the altar where the

Eucharist was celebrated as possible. Baroque Catholics favored funeral processions with

an array of sights and smells to enliven the senses of the community. Significant finances

were bequeathed to local confraternities to pay for these communal celebrations. Under

the Hapsburgs, baroque Catholicism flourished in Mexico. Nancy Farriss characterized

the church’s domination of Mexico as “a virtual monopoly of charity and education: most

orphanages, hospitals, and schools were administered by religious orders; the university

faculties were composed mainly of ecclesiastics; and any instruction the lower classes

received was generally limited to the catechism.”112

In his recent study of the Catholic Enlightenment, Ulrich Lehner describes the

union between church reformers and state officials, “Catholic Enlighteners often worked

very closely with state reformers. Both the church reformers and the state had common

110 Larkin, “Liturgy, Devotion, and Religious Reform in Eighteenth-Century Mexico City,” 498. 111 Galván Rivera, Concilio III Provincial Mexicano, 195. 112 Nancy Farriss, Crown and Clergy in Colonial Mexico 1759-1821: The Crisis of Ecclesiastical

Privilege (London: University of London/The Athlone Press, 1968), 2.

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goals. The more the reformers felt disappointed about the lack of renewal coming out of

Rome, the more they placed their hopes in state sovereigns.”113 What played out in

Europe eventually became global. By the mid-eighteenth-century, Spanish-born church

officials in Mexico City began to promote a new, enlightened piety that focused less on

elaborate externals and more on interior states of being. Christopher M.S. Johns

compares and contrasts the sixteenth century Tridentine reform with the eighteenth

century Catholic reform:

Tridentine reform and enlightened Catholicism shared many goals. Both were deeply concerned with eliminating simony in the awarding of Church offices, increasing the number and quality of seminaries that trained parish priests, deploying the arts to promote piety and provide visual models of sanctity, and enforcing canonical rules regarding episcopal residency. Catholic enlightened reform, unlike its Tridentine predecessor, however, emphasized anti-nepotism, improvement of the working relationship with Catholic monarchs, and social rather than more strictly theological issues. Moreover, eighteenth-century ecclesiastical reform responded not so much to a Protestant challenge as to the need to secure the Church’s relevance. Appeals to the culture, the arts, and history were more significant in the era of enlightenment than they had been in the Counter-Reformation.114

Reform Catholics reacted strongly against baroque piety, and they consisted mostly of

secular clerics and Bourbon officials who sought to minimize the elaborate ceremonies

associated with funerals and the cult of the saints in order to promote individualism,

113 Lehner concludes his study with pointing out that it was not until Vatican II in the twentieth

century that many of the goals of the Catholic Enlightenment were realized. He writes, “At its best, the Catholic Enlightenment was the resuscitation of the Tridentine Reform by modern means; at its worst, it amounted to the subjugation of theology to the state—unsurprisingly, with heretical tendencies. The tendency of Catholic Enlighteners to work with the state against the papacy helps one understand the papacy’s resistance toward state interventions in the nineteenth century and its increasing distrust of the Enlightenment, especially after the French Revolution.” Ulrich L. Lehner, The Catholic Enlightenment: The Forgotten History of a Global Movement (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 10, 218.

114 Christopher M.S. Johns, The Visual Culture of the Catholic Enlightenment (University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2015), 3-4.

45

reason, and inner moral piety. The Bourbon state supported the enlightened reformers for

economic and political expediency. Alan Knight states that Bourbon reforms “sought to

curtail the power of the Church, which they conceived to be politically offensive,

economically retrograde and, in some respects, culturally stultifying.”115 The Bourbon

reforms of the eighteenth century aimed to modernize Spain and expand its economic

production on the eve of the Industrial Revolution.116 In an effort to regain control of its

colonies, Spanish officials appointed Spanish-born bureaucrats and military officers for

administrative positions in the colonies, whereas the Hapsburgs had previously sold

offices to creoles. Baroque Catholicism faced fierce competition in the late eighteenth

century with the rise of modernity. One of the goals of this study is to determine whether

and to what extent pious bequests remained baroque over the eighteenth century in

Monterrey or morphed into modern, individualistic concerns as can be seen in the studies

by Voekel and Larkin on testaments in colonial Mexico City, Puebla, and Veracruz. In an

effort to describe the particular history of Monterrey as a colonial frontier town, space is

now allotted to introduce several key developments in its early history.

Monterrey as a Colonial Frontier Town

Cradled at the foothills of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range, Monterrey

emerges in a large open area named by the Spanish conquistadors as the Extremadura

115 Alan Knight, Mexico: The Colonial Era (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 263. 116 With its rigid Thomism, enlightened intellectuals had long considered Spain a backwards-

looking place. For this reason, Henry Kamen points out that the “Grand Tour” utterly ignored Spain during the eighteenth century. Furthermore, the Black Legend promulgated by Protestants sought to depict Spaniards as instruments of evil and enemies of tolerance due to the Inquisition. Spain would suffer economically as a result of Protestant countries willing to trade with it. For more, see Henry Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition: A Historical Revision (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997).

46

Valley. Due to its unique geographic features, most notably the cerros, or hills, which

engulf it, the modern city has been later dubbed “La Ciudad de las Montañas,” the city of

the mountains. To Monterrey’s south, the Sierra Madre stretches some 2,000 miles; to its

east, Cerro de la Silla, Monterrey’s most well-known landmark, engulfs the eastern

horizon. In his description of Monterrey, modern scholar José Cuello notes:

The temperate climate of these highlands proved suitable for apple and other European fruit trees. Monterrey and its surrounding mining centers, which produced both silver and lead alloys used in the smelting of silver, dominated a coastal plain that received abundant rain and provided winter pastures for huge sheep flocks from the Center and Near North of the colony.117

Monterrey has historically been a significant city in northeastern Mexico, and today

remains the largest city and capital of the modern state of Nuevo León.118 In the colonial

era Monterrey emerged as the most significant administrative city of both the crown and

the church in kingdom of Nuevo Reino de León, encompassing most of northeastern

Mexico and southern Texas (see Figure 1).

117 José Cuello, “The Persistence of Indian Slavery and Encomienda in the Northeast of Colonial

Mexico, 1577-1723,” Journal of Social History 21, no. 4 (1988): 685. 118 Monterrey’s close proximity to the United States played a major factor in its emergence as an

industrial city during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and it became a beneficiary of a financial market created by NAFTA during the late twentieth century.

47

Figure 1: Modern Political Map of Mexico with Nuevo Reino de León Highlighted

Throughout the colonial era Monterrey functioned as a frontier town in which the

population remained in flux. An eighteenth-century Governor of Nuevo Reino de León,

Josseph Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, argued that the mines and fields needed more

human laborers to yield greater production. The Spanish conquistadors focused their

attention on pursing economic activities which resulted in the greatest accumulation of

wealth, namely mining gold, silver, and other valuable minerals. To work the mines, the

conquistadors enforced a system of tribute labor, with laborers drawn largely from

sedentary clans. The apparent lack of economic opportunities coupled with a dearth of

indigenous tribute labor left Monterrey outside of the realm of Spanish interest for much

of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Distance from Mexico’s major cities presented

another challenge to Monterrey’s progress. Furthermore, the possibility of attacks by

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native peoples around Monterrey and throughout Nuevo León remained a constant. The

Apaches and Comanches moved into northern Mexico to flee from the U.S. Calvary and

assumed the territory previously occupied by the Chichimeca, resulting in conflicts well

into the nineteenth century.119 María Cantú’s 1705 will recounted a violent incident in the

Valley of San Antonio located in the jurisdiction of Monterrey. María stated that the area

was inhabited by Indians (índios) and some of them were in their service. She continued,

“Indians rose up and killed my husband and they shot arrows at me and they burned the

huts where we were living and fire destroyed all of our belongings including the land

grant titles (mercedes). . . .”120 Although María did not specify the reason for the attack, it

should be noted that Indians were subject to slavery and encomienda, and the harsh

treatment they received provoked physical resistance to Spanish colonization efforts.121

Throughout the colonial period, the population varied for a variety of reasons. The

discovery of precious metals in the late sixteenth century ensured the city would gain

greater attention among those seeking silver, yet other colonists motivated by wealth

119 Marie Theresa Hernández discusses the relevant secondary sources on the matter in the context

of barbaric norteño trope that appears in regional folklore. Hernández, Delirio, 43-72. 120 AHM, Testamento de María Cantú, 9 Enero 1705, Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 156, no. 71. 121 José Cuello points out that in northeastern Mexico slavery and encomienda often became

blurred, but “There were two distinctions between encomienda and slavery. Under encomienda, Indians were technically free part of the year until they were needed again and they were kept together partially and temporarily as groups. Under slavery, individual Indians were singled out for several years of continuous forced service and could be exported to other areas of northern and central Mexico. The other difference was the legal, paper distinction under which these overlapping forms of human exploitation were authorized. In neither case did the Indians receive the fruits of their labor. The profits went to the captors, the authorities, the middlemen, and the buyers and renters. In both cases Indian families and bands were broken up and destroyed. Alienated, acculturated Indians turned on Spanish society, raided livestock, robbed travelers, and killed encomenderos and slavehunters.” Cuello, “The Persistence of Indian Slavery and Encomienda in the Northeast of Colonial Mexico,” 692. Also, see Eugenio del Hoyo, Indios, Frailes, y Encomenderos en el Nuevo Reino de León Siglos XVII y XVIII (Monterrey: Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo León, 1985); Silvio Arturo Zavala, Entradas, congregas y encomiendas de indios en el Nuevo Reino de León (Sevilla: Secretariado de Publicaciones de la Universidad de Sevilla, 1992); and Andrés Montemayor Hernández, La Congrega: Nuevo León Siglos XVI-XVIII (Monterrey, NL: Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo León, 1990).

49

created by slavery wished the northeast would remain an open frontier.122 José Cuello

explains, “The hundreds of bands of hunter-gatherers which lived off the land represented

a vast labor pool that the Spaniards could exploit in piecemeal fashion as their needs

dictated.”123 The slave hunters could point out that of the 17 mines registered near

Monterrey in 1598-1599, none of them were as rich in silver content as the mines in

Zacatecas and Durango. The discovery of the northern mines facilitated a demand for

slavery and encomienda long after they were declared illegal by the crown.124 The slaves

that appear in the testaments were described as mulattos.125 Male slaves often worked on

the hacienda, whereas female slaves worked in the domestic sphere.

The most explosive population growth in northeastern Mexico came with a mass

immigration of ranchers and shepherds from the south in search of well-watered

122 For more on the local mining activity, see Mario Treviño Villarreal, “Monterrey Como Centro

Minero, Siglos XVI-XVIII,” in Monterrey histórico, ed. Oscar Flores Torres (San Pedro Garza García, México: Centro de Estudios Históricos UDEM/Municipio de Monterrey, 2009).

123 Cuello, “The Persistence of Indian Slavery and Encomienda in the Northeast of Colonial Mexico,” 694.

124 Indian slavery had been declared illegal since 1542, but the Mixtón War (1541-1542) in the northern kingdom of Nueva Galicia coupled with the demand for slavery labor in the silver mines of Zacatecas ensured that slavery and encomienda would remain a practice for centuries. Also, Cuello points out that “The inevitable resistance by hunter-gatherers to Spanish domination, the shortage of labor, and the semi-autonomous political power wielded by provincial and local authorities insured the survival of slavery and encomienda in northern New Spain into the eighteenth century.” Cuello, “The Persistence of Indian Slavery and Encomienda in the Northeast of Colonial Mexico,” 687.

125 A group of genealogists interested in tracing their roots back to Nuevo León have created a compilation of slave records found in colonial Monterrey. Their team was able to locate the appearance of slaves in the summaries of notarial records written by Israel Cavazos Garza, who served as the director of the municipal archives in Monterrey. The e-book, Slaves of Monterrey Nuevo Leon Mexico, is available to download at http://home.earthlink.net/~shharmembers/monterreyslaves.pdf.

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farmlands with good soil during the seventeenth century.126 Eventually, hundreds came

with their thousands of sheep, cattle, and horses, eventually settling down on both large

and small haciendas. The population boom of sheep herders and cattle ranchers from the

south coincides with the long-ruling governor, Martín de Zavala, who governed for some

37 years. Zavala, whose father served as governor before his appointment, had studied at

the University of Salamanca, and was a member of the St. James of the Sword military

order. He aggressively pushed for settling the extreme parts of northeastern Mexico,

creating a flux of population in and out of Monterrey. Spanish economic interests in the

central corridor, the geographic space of the northern frontier of Mexico and

southwestern United States, necessitated a defense from potential indigenous unrest. Sean

McEnroe describes the volatile situation, “Towns and missions were generally protected

by few, if any, professional soldiers, while the capital of Monterrey and the royal mines

at Boca de Leones, both considered important strategic sites, were guarded by a modest

number of regulars.”127 The ongoing roundups of slave labor often ignited native

resistance. Despite these events only a handful of soldiers were routinely stationed for

defense.

126 For more on the seventeenth-century agricultural boom, see Eugenio del Hoyo, Señores de

Ganado: Nuevo Reino de León, Siglo XVII (Monterrey, NL: Gobierno del Estado de Nuevo León/Secretaría de Administración/Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo León, 1987). Also, Israel Cavazos Garza has demonstrated that much of the livestock culture persists in the local vocabulary and foods. Israel Cavazos Garza, “Haciendas y ganados en el Nuevo Reino de León: siglos XVII y XVIII,” Humanitas 26. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos (1999): 441-461. For an overview on the economy during the first half of the seventeenth century, see Antonio Peña Guajardo, La economía novohispana y la élite local del Nuevo Reino de León en la primera mitad del Siglo XVIII (Monterrey, NL: Fondo Estatal para la Cultura y las Artes de Nuevo León, 2005).

127 Sean F. McEnroe, From Colony to Nationhood in Mexico: Laying the Foundations, 1560-1840 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 89.

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The history of Monterrey, like other cities, can be written as a history of access to

water.128 Colonists in search for silver and slaves chose the valley area as a site to settle

due to its water sources. The first map of Monterrey, dated 1765, offers an indication as

to the natural and artificial waterways that encapsulate the city (see Figure 2). Farmland

and local silver mines provided economic opportunities for residents; however,

Monterrey’s location within a valley made it susceptible to tragic and devastating

flooding. The viceroy and governor provided access to water to their vassals in exchange

for loyal service (merced de agua). Water access, essential in an arid climate with long

stretches without rainfall, appears in a wide range of notarial documents, from land sales

to testaments. However, too much water can be even more problematic. The Santa

Catarina River, known as the Santa Catalina River in colonial times, flooded periodically,

causing destruction to the newly built infrastructure and threatened life.129 During the

time period of this study, the Santa Catarina River flooded three times (1716, 1752, and

1810) and a major smallpox outbreak occurred in 1798, the latter caused a spike in the

number of wills written. Monterrey’s population boom and economic growth in turn

produced greater attention from crown and church, leading to development of an

ecclesiastical, educational, and industrial complex. The first attempts at founding formal

institutions of education occurred in the eighteenth century, but they faced significant

challenges. Prior to this, parents who intended their sons to embark on an ecclesiastical

career, for example, would have had to send them to a more developed city, such as

128 For example, Enrique Torres López and Mario A. Santoscoy, La Historia del Agua en

Monterrey: Desde 1577 hasta 1985 (Monterrey, NL: Ediciones Castillo, 1985). 129 Monterrey’s municipal website claims the area was flooded at least ten times, especially in the

years 1612, 1636, 1648, 1716, 1752, 1810, 1909, 1938, 1967, and 1988.

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Mexico City, Guadalajara, or Veracruz. Before the founding of the seminary and college,

Franciscans and Jesuits both played a role in the education of reineros.

Figure 2: Oldest Known Map of Monterrey, 1765. Courtesy of the Archivo Histórico de Monterrey.

Although the Dominicans were among the first missionaries to arrive to New

Spain, the Franciscans would come to dominate evangelization efforts, especially in

frontier region of northeastern Mexico. Hernán Cortes requested Franciscan assistance

from the emperor. In 1522, a papal bull authorized the Franciscans to establish missions

in the New World. Two years later, the arrival of twelve Franciscans signaled a concerted

effort to convert the indigenous peoples of New Spain. Franciscan presence can be seen

in the earliest efforts to establish a settlement in the Extremadura Valley. In 1577,

Alberto del Canto’s brief settlement in Monterrey seems to have been a strategic move to

find a resting point with available water between Saltillo and Tampico. Five years later,

Luis de Carvajal y de la Cueva, a Portuguese slave trader, temporarily settled at Canto’s

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original site near the spring (ojo de agua), naming it “Villa de San Luis” in honor of the

king of France. Soon the discovery of precious metals at the nearby San Gregorio de

Cerralvo led to a population boom. Carvajal and his men, however, focused their

attention on hunting down and enslaving local indigenous peoples until his eventual

arrest by authorities and transfer to the Holy Office of the Inquisition in Mexico City for

supposedly practicing Judaism.130 Time, technology, and labor were needed to obtain

minerals from the mines located near Monterrey, yet a dark cloud remains cast over the

city’s earliest settlers who sought riches by exploiting slaves.

Fray Juan de la Magdalena, a Franciscan priest from Huasteca, accompanied

Carvajal’s caravan from Saltillo. In a letter to the Archbishop of Guadalajara, Magdalena

claimed to have celebrated the sacraments in Nuevo Reino de León, symbolically staking

territorial claim for the church. Carvajal’s initial settlement, however, would be

completely abandoned due to a flood, but by 1596, Diego de Montemayor, one of his

lieutenants, made his way eastward from Saltillo to San Luis with some 12 families,

though the expressed number could have been chosen due to its religious significance.

The seventeenth-century chronicler, Alonso de León, wrote that Montemayor’s party

included 34 people. Because of Monterrey’s proximity to the newly discovered mineral

deposits at San Gregorio de Cerralvo, a distance of about 60 miles to the northeast, the

influx of population to the area led the twentieth-century historian of the borderlands,

130 Hernández notes how traces of Carvajal’s legacy is encapsulated in his demise contrasted to

how Diego de Montemayor has been celebrated. She also gives support to the theory that those with the last name “Carvajal” decided to change it to avoid the Inquisition. Hernández, Delirio, 71.

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Herbert E. Bolton, to assert that Nuevo León was “the oldest of the provinces of the

northeastern frontier.”131

Among those in Montemayor’s group were Fray Cristobal de Espinosa, a

Franciscan who oversaw the convent of San Esteban de la Nueva Tlaxcala, and Baldo

Cortés, Saltillo’s priest and vicar. Espinosa would later become a member of the first

town council. On 20 September 1596 at Los Ojos de Santa Lucía, Montemayor held a

ceremony with those who accompanied him to establish the city with an act of

foundation, naming it “Ciudad Metropolitana de Nuestra Señora de Monterrey.”132

Montemayor dedicated the city of Monterrey to the Virgin and designated lots (solares)

for the plaza, church, and houses. The selection of the name “Monterrey,” like that of the

city Monterey in California, honored the count of Monterrey and viceroy of New Spain,

Gaspar de Zúñiga y Acevedo.133 Clearly, Montemayor’s dedication served as a political

move to add legitimacy of the city’s illicit founding. Fray Andrés de León cemented

Franciscan presence with the establishment of Monterrey’s first convent by 1602/3,

which was named in honor of his name saint. The San Andrés convent would soon need

to be rebuilt due to a flood. In 1626, Fray Lorenzo González, the convent’s guardian,

noted that it had all of the essential religious objects of a functional convent, such as the

131 Herbert E. Bolton, Guide to Materials for the History of the United States in the Principal

Archives of Mexico (Washington, DC: Carnegie Institution of Washington, 1913), 410. 132 Monterrey had five distinct names during the colonial period. The names are Villa de Santa

Lucia (1577), Villa de San Luis de Francia (1583), Ciudad Metropolitana de Nuestra Señora de Monterrey (1596), Villa de Cerralvo (1626), Ciudad Metropolitana de Nuestra Señora de Monterrey (1627), and the shortened version still in use today, Monterrey. For more, see Leonardo Contreras López, “Las Seis Nominaciones de Monterrey,” Roel 4, no. 1 (2007): 47-62.

133 “Monterrey” was the name of a municipio in the Orense province located in Galicia, Spain, near Portugal. During the medieval period the site was referred to as “Monte regio,” or “the mountain of the king.”

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altar, baptismal font, a large cemetery, a strong tower, and good bells.134 The use of the

adjectives “strong” (fuerte) and “good” (buenas) are notable since these objects would be

indispensable in promoting the rhythms of church life. In particular, a tower and bells

served as essential markers of time in early modern Christianity in order to divide the day

into liturgical hours, call the faithful to religious ceremonies, and notify the community

of someone approaching death.135 Lydia Espinosa Morales proposes that the number of

friars at the convent of San Andrés was small, possibly six or eight.136 The exact number

fluctuated. Don Josseph Fernández de Jáuregui’s visitation in the 1730s only found one

friar, though he claimed there were typically two.137 Although its mission was to the

indigenous peoples, the convent served the needs of the residents of Monterrey and was

supported by the crown.138 From the local Spanish population, the convent selected a lay

administer (síndico or mayordomo) who was often a member of the cabildo to oversee its

134 See David Alberto Cossío, Obras completas de David Alberto Cossío, vol. 1, ed. Adalberto

Arturo Madero Quiroga (Monterrey, NL: H. Congreso del Estado de Nuevo León, [1925] 2000), 156. 135 John Peters points out that bells “are major timekeepers and dayshapers. In nineteenth-century

rural France, for instance, bells summoned people to Mass, weddings, funerals, emergencies, assembly, and battle, and often rang with a distinctive dialect unique to each village. Similar practices took place earlier and elsewhere in Europe. One of the main functions of bells is mobilizing bodies into assembly—either soldiers to battle or Christian soldiers to church.” John Durham Peters, “Calendar, Clock, Tower,” in Deus in Machina: Religion, Technology, and the Things in Between, ed. Jeremy Stolow (New York: Fordham University Press, 2013), 39. In colonial Mexico, bells were rang to signal the community to pray for someone near death. Alma Victoria Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias: Saltillo y San Esteban al despuntar el siglo XIX (Centro de Estudios Sociales y Humanísticos, 2000), 113.

136 Lydia Espinosa Morales, “El Convento Franciscano de San Andrés En la Ciudad de Monterrey,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 24 (1997): 455

137 Josseph Antonio Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, Description of Nuevo León, México (1735-1740), eds. Malcolm M. McLean and Eugenio del Hoyo, trans. Malcom M. McLean (Monterrey, NL: The Summer School of the Instituto Tecnológico y de Estudios Superiores de Monterrey, 1964), 93.

138 A 1735 description of Monterrey included a description of the Franciscan convent. “In the said city [Monterrey] there is a San Franciscan Convent which has a small church made of rocks and mud. Its collateral altar is decent; at present it likewise has a reserve supply of the Holy Sacrament, and it is a curacy for the Borrados Indians, which are the ones which are employed as servants by various settlers.” Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, Description of Nuevo León, México, 93.

56

funds. Also, the crown subsidized the Franciscan convent throughout the seventeenth and

first half of the eighteenth centuries.139

Although Saltillo was larger than Monterrey during much of the colonial era,

Monterrey emerged as a leading city linking northeast Mexico to central Mexico. Saltillo

had the advantage of being older, larger, and home to an annual fair, but Monterrey

slowly gained an upper hand as an administrative and ecclesiastical hub. A number of

key developments in the city’s rich history include the colonization of the nearby Nueva

Santander (1746), the emergence of a postal service between Mexico and Monterrey

(1762), and the creation of the Diocese of Linares (1777), and the eventual location of the

diocesan administration in Monterrey (1779). In 1812, the Constitution of Cádiz

recognized Monterrey as the command center for the Provincial Government of the

Eastern Internal Provinces.140 In terms of ecclesiastical structure, Nuevo Reino de León

had belonged to the Diocese of Guadalajara, some 300 miles away. However, a new

diocese was created for the massive territory that encompassed northeastern Mexico and

southern Texas. In the early modern era both Catholic and Protestant leaders visited their

respective churches to see how the church was functioning. Bishopric visits inquired

about Tridentine measures, the state of the church, and challenges of the region. In a 1712

pastoral visit, Bishop Diego Camacho y Ávila toured the area to obtain information about

139 AGENL, Provincias Internas, vol. 14, f. 230 and AHM, Reales Cédulas 3. 140 Prior to this, Santa Rosa served as the capital of the General Commandancy of the Eastern

Internal Provinces since 1787. The region comprised the governments of Nuevo León, Coahuila, Nuevo Santander, and Texas. María del Carmen Velázquez explains that “The Internal Provinces, for their part, were the regions that for two centuries of Spanish rule were added to the first kingdoms conquered, that is, to New Spain, Nueva Galicia, Nueva Vizcaya and New Mexico, and that, on the occasion of colonial control, they formed the northern frontier of the viceroyalty of New Spain.” María del Carmen Velázquez, “La Comandancia General de las Provincias Internas,” Historia Mexicana 27, no. 2 (1977): 163.

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the church of the northeast.141 The interviews revealed tension between the local

townspeople and the friars. A member of the cabildo, Francisco de la Cancha suggested

that the friars only visited the indigenous peoples to rent them out or take their wages

from them, positing a purely economic motive. Joaquín de Escamilla claimed few friars

actually taught the natives, suggesting a lack of desire to teach the fundamentals of the

faith. The friars did not, according to their critics, have a genuine concern for the native

peoples; rather, their critics charged they merely performed baptisms and marriages for

their own economic benefit. Baroque reineros did not simply follow lock step with their

spiritual leaders, and they confidently raised concerns in the face of perceived injustices.

The new diocese would be tasked to implement the decrees declared at the Fourth

Mexican Provincial Council (1771), the first of its kind since 1585.142

In 1777, the Bishop of Guadalajara commissioned Joseph Antonio Martínez

Benavides, a theologian and resident of Nuevo Reino de León, to visit the parishes in the

kingdom, Saltillo, and Zacatecas.143 By the time Martínez visited Monterrey, he would

141 See Israel Cavazos Garza, Breve historia de Nuevo León (México: Colegio de México, 1995),

56. 142 For more on the creation of the Diocese of Linares, see Aureliano Tapia Méndez, “La Creación

del Primitivo Obispado de Linares,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 20 (1979): 283-302. Also, consider Aureliano Tapia Méndez, Obispado del Nuevo Reino de León - Primer Tiempo (Monterrey, NL: Gobierno de Nuevo León/Archivo General del Estado, 1988) and Aureliano Tapia Méndez, La Catedral de Nuevo Reino de León (Monterrey, NL: Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo León, 1989). Elisa Luque Alcaide claims the provincial council represented “two currents of ideas in the Hispanic culture of the time: an enlightened group, with a peninsular majority, and a traditional group with a creole majority. Neither of these were monolithic having freedom of authors and various doctrines.” Elisa Luque Alcaide, “Debates Doctrinales en el IV Concilio Provincial Mexicano (1771), Historia Mexicana 55, no. 1 (2005): 46.

143 See Joseph Antonio Martínez Benavides, Visita de la provincia del Nuevo Reino de León, villa del Saltillo y real del Mazapil, que hizo el doctor don José Antonio Martínez Benavides, año de 1777, eds. Valentina Garza Martínez and Juan Manuel Pérez Zevallos (México, DF: Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social, 2013).

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have seen a city of approximately a few thousand.144 Assisted by a notary public who

testified to the recorded events, Martínez’s five-month journey provided valuable

information about the church in northeast Mexico, information that would become

instrumental in the establishment of a new diocese. As early as 1717 Juan Picado

Pacheco proposed to the Real Audiencia the idea of creating two new dioceses, Sonora

and Nuevo Reino de León. Gerardo Zapata Aguilar claims that the move to establish a

diocese in Nuevo Reino de León was principally motivated by the control of the tithe,

and it is hard to argue that economics played no role, though the proposal went

nowhere.145 Pacheco’s proposal found that the diocese could generate a handsome sum of

30,000 pesos annually.146 By 1739, King Philip V decided to emphasize the colonization

of Nuevo Santander (Tamaulipas) rather than Nuevo Reino de León. Responding to the

region’s population growth and the need to maintain greater oversight, the Bishop of

Guadalajara, Antonio Alcaldes, proposed the creation of a new diocese in the northeast to

the Bourbon King, Charles III, in May 1777, which he quickly approved. Charles III

sought to expand the Bourbon economy and undoubtedly saw the opportunity to build up

colonial infrastructure in the northeast. Don José Osorios y Llamas’ 1768-1769 episcopal

visitation recommended San Felipe de Linares as the new diocese’s headquarters due to

144 According to Isidro Vizcaya Canales, Monterrey had a population of 3,334 in 1753 and 6,412

during the governorship of Don Simón de Herrera y Leyva in 1803. Isidro Vizcaya Canales, Los orígenes de la industrialización de Monterrey: una historia económica y social desde la caída del segundo imperio hasta el fin de la revolución, 1867-1920 (1969; reprint, Monterrey, NL: Fondo Editorial Nuevo León/ITESM, 2006), 2-3.

145 Certainly the large territory necessitated the church’s need for a central authority closer to the growing population of the northeast. Gerardo Zapata Aguilar, Monterrey en la época colonial, 1596-1810 (Monterey, NL: Consejo para la Cultura y las Artes de Nuevo León/Centro Neoleonés de México, 2001), 69-72.

146 This number is derived from Francisco Barbadillo’s estimate that the region was home to a million sheep. This resulted in the birth of 300,000 sheep each year, with 30,000 sheep set aside to the church. The church then could reasonably sell 15,000 sheep. For more, see Zapata Aguilar, Monterrey en la época colonial, 70.

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its central location within the kingdom. The long-reigning Pope Pius VI formally issued

Relata Semper, establishing the diocese with its provisional headquarters in Linares on 15

December 1777. Most of the territory selected for the new diocese came from the

Diocese of Guadalajara, though some also came from two other dioceses, namely México

and Michoacán.

The span of this project overlaps with the tenure of Monterrey’s first four bishops:

Antonio de Jesús Sacedon (1779), Rafael José Verger y Suau (1782-1790), Andrés

Ambrosio de Llanos y Valdés (1791-1799), and Primo Feliciano Marín y Porras (1805-

1815). All four were born in Spain and members of the Franciscan order.147 The first

Bishop of Linares, Antonio de Jesús Sacedon, arrived to Monterrey in 1779, though he

would soon fall ill on his journey and die never making it to Linares. The next three

bishops oversaw the creation of an ecclesiastical infrastructure fitting for Monterrey’s

new diocese. Verger, originally from Mallorca, arrived to the New World at age 16. After

advancing through the clerical ranks, he presided as bishop during his first two years

from Linares, the original headquarters of the diocese, but also spent time in Saltillo as

well. Although other towns were entertained as possible permanent headquarters for the

diocese, Verger ultimately settled in Monterrey, earning the moniker “el obispo

constructor” for overseeing a number of building projects.148 The most renowned of

these projects was his personal residence with a baroque chapel devoted to the Virgin of

147 In fact, the first six bishops were Franciscans, and the first five were born in Spain. The first

Bishop of Linares born in Mexico was José María de Jesús Belaunzarán y Ureña and was appointed in 1831.

148 For more on Verger’s role in establishing Monterrey as the diocesan headquarters, see Joaquín A. Mora, Investigaciones históricas del Monterrey (Monterrey, NL: Investigaciones Históricas del Monterrey Antiguo, 2006), 42-70.

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Guadalupe, known as Palacio de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe.149 It was during this time

that the popularity of the cult devoted to the Virgin of Guadalupe arose, especially among

creole priests. Verger selected a hill, known to locals as Loma de Chepe Vera because it

had originally belonged to José Vera, to overlook the growing city. Construction on the

project occurred during a drought year and the work provided some relief to those who

were in much need due to crop failures. Additionally, he ordered the building of the

seminary-college and the first hospital in Monterrey. Verger’s personal devotion to the

Virgin provided an incentive to promote a novena to the Virgin in 1788.150 The nine-day

devotional called upon devotees to appear on their “knees before some image of Nuestra

Señora del Roble with great humility and reverence.” Verger obtained the necessary

license to construct the cathedral, but an illness brought him down to the extent that he

was not even able to finish uttering his last will and testament.151 Called to Verger’s

residence at 9 a.m. on 4 July 1790, Don Manuel Bahamonde Villamil, a knight in the

order of St. Julian and governor, wrote Verger’s will a day before he died. Given the

circumstances surrounding Verger’s perilous condition, his testament reads as an

anomaly, lacking key elements such as the opening prayer, information concerning his

parents, and the names of his intercessors due to the haste of the situation. In his second

clause Verger bequeathed 100 pesos for the veneration of Nuestra Señora del Roble,

indicating his support for Monterrey’s local Marian cult.

149 Today the site is known simply as “obispado,” functioning primarily as a museum, known as

the Museo Regional del Obispado and houses many colonial artifacts that were originally used in the local parish church and the surrounding area.

150 See Rafael José Verger, Novena consagrada a María Santísima Nuestra Señora que con el título Del Roble (1788), in Nuestra Señora del Roble Patrona de la Arquidiócesis de Monterrey y Novena de 1788, ed. José Antonio Portillo Valadez (Monterrey, NL: Fuerza Gráfica del Norte, 2009).

151 See AHM, Comunicados Testamentarios de Rafael José Verger y Suau, 4 Julio 1790, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1.

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With Verger’s death, church officials were forced to seek out a new bishop. The

pope selected Andrés Ambrosio de Llanos y Valdés, a doctor of canon law at the Iglesia

Metropolitana in Mexico City. Verger and Llanos both shared the same principal

consecrator, the reforming Archbishop of Mexico, Alonso Núñez de Haro y Peralta.

Describing his approach the archbishop’s approach to prayer, Matthew O’Hara writes,

“Núñez de Haro’s emphasis on interior prayer was central to later Jansenist spirituality

and, as far as the prelates were concerned, conflicted directly with the more sensuous,

public piety fostered by the regulars since the time of the conquest, intended to attract the

‘child-like’ Indians to Catholicism.”152 The archbishop’s predecessor, Cardinal Francisco

Antonio Lorenzana (1766-1772), ever an advocate for moderation, presided over the

Fourth Mexican Provincial Council (1771). A couple of years earlier, Charles III’s Tomo

Regio advocated the promotion of the reform agenda through calling provincial councils

in the metropolitan capitals of the New World. In total, five conciliar assemblies

occurred, with Mexico City being the first.153 The Fourth Mexican Provincial Council

served as a launching board for Caroline “regalism,” the colonial policy aimed to

152 Matthew D. O’Hara, A Flock Divided: Race, Religion, and Politics in Mexico, 1749-1857

(Durham: Duke University Press, 2010), 65-66. 153 In addition to the provincial council in Mexico City (1771), others included Manila (1771),

Lima (1772), Charcas (1774-1778), and Santa Fe de Bogota (1774). Physical crises, such as hurricanes, epidemics, and an earthquake in Guatemala in 1773, in addition to political turmoil kept Santo Domingo and Guatemala from holding councils.

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collaborate church interests with that of the Bourbon state.154 By 1777, Núñez de Haro’s

pastoral letter, heavy with quotes from the fathers and an emphasis on the two great

commandments of love, urged obedience to Charles III and the Catholic Church as he

called upon his scattered flock to “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s.”155

At the Fourth Mexican Provincial Council, two opposing camps jockeyed for

position. Spanish-born clerics and colonial officials often worked together to promote an

internal, moral piety that resembled traditional Protestant theology more so than the

baroque piety of an earlier age. Peninsular church officials promoted a new, enlightened

piety, whereas many creole priests preferred the traditional, baroque piety. The mid-to-

late eighteenth-century archbishops of Mexico favored religious reforms, impacting

urban areas throughout New Spain. At the forefront were the Bourbon religious reforms

in which the council attempted to reform what it perceived as excesses, including such

practices as excessive devotion to images, flagellation, and superstitions. Rather the

154 Elisa Luque Alcaide explains that “State control of the Church had already begun in 1715,

under the first Bourbon, Philip V of Spain . . . Pope Clement XI in 1709, forced by Austrian presence in Italian territory, recognized Archduke Charles’s rights to the crown of Spain, even though Philip de Bourbon was already reigning in Spain. Philip V reacted by breaking off relations with Rome: he recalled his ambassador in Rome and expelled the nuncio in Madrid. In the negotiations that followed, the Spanish court took the opportunity to reclaim the Crown’s privileges over the Spanish Church (“regalias) as rights proper to the Crown and not as a concession given by Rome. In fact, the theory of the Church’s indirect power in temporal affairs, which was sustained by Robert Bellarmine, was reversed by the defense of the indirect power of the State in spiritual affairs, arguing that the monarch was installed by divine right.” Elisa Luque Alcaide, “Reformist Currents in the Spanish-American Councils of the Eighteenth Century,” The Catholic Historical Review 91, no. 4 (2005): 746.

155 The archbishop wrote, “Que esta obligación de pagar los Reales impuestos es un verdadero mandato de Dios, no lo había y enseñado San Justino Mártir en su Apología á favor de la Religión christiana. . . .” Alonso Núñez de Haro y Peralta, Carta Pastoral que el Illmo. Señor Doctor D. Alonso Nuñez de Haro y Peralta del Consejo de S.M. y Arzobispo de Mexico, dirige a todos sus amados diocesanos Sobre la Doctrina sana en general, contraída en particular á las mas esenciales y obligaciones que tenemos para con Dios y para con el Rey (México, DF: Don Felipe de Zúñiga y Ontiveros, 1777), 164, 169.

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council promoted a well-ordered faith “to contemplate God without distraction.”156 The

era of enlightened piety had begun.157

Llanos’ contentious tenure largely continued Verger’s vision of Monterrey as a

modern ecclesiastical center, yet it would be cut short due to conflicts with the kingdom’s

governor, Simón Herrera y Leyva, over spending. Once the bishop arrived to Monterrey

in 1795, he ordered the construction of several buildings just north of the plaza, allocating

supplies and workers from the new cathedral to his project. Llanos’ ambitious

construction projects had already cost more than 80,000 pesos but more funds were

needed to complete the cathedral. The neoclassical cathedral would have signaled

symbolically the move from baroque to modern religion. However, the incomplete

structure would later be used as an armory during the war with the United States.158 The

governor and city officials balked at a request for more funds to pay for the cathedral and

two years later the turmoil reached its apex, resulting in the bishop fleeing the city on the

pretext of a pastoral visit. Monterrey once again became a city without a bishop. It would

take six years before Monterrey would receive another ecclesiastical leader, Primo

Feliciano Marín y Porras. Marín, a Spanish Franciscan, remained in office as Bishop of

Linares until his death.

Meanwhile Llanos attempted to put the past behind him and accepted an

appointment far away from Monterrey, at the Diocese of Chiapas, the same diocese

156 Paulino Castañeda Delgado and Pilar Hernández Aparicio, El IV ‘Concilio’ Provincial

Mexicano (Madrid: Deimos, 2001), 84. 157 The conciliar documents include Actas y Decretos, three diarios concerning the sessions, and a

catechism. 158 The Mexican-American War (1846-1848), as it is known in the US, is referred to as the

Intervención Estadounidense en México.

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where Bartolomé de las Casas famously served as the diocese’s second bishop. Llanos y

Valdés spent the final 14 years of his life in Chiapas until his death in 1815, the same

year Marín y Porras died in Monterrey. His 1793 will written in Monterrey revealed a

desire for moderate pomp at his funeral, not surprising given the zeitgeist of the times.159

His testament features a mere four clauses in which he requested 100 low masses for his

soul, allocating the customary peso for each mass as alms (limosna). More curious,

however, is a statement prohibiting the body from being embalmed (prohibimos que

nuestro cuerpo sea embalsamado), reflecting the Catholic importance of caring for the

corpse as it awaits resurrection.160 Natural decay was the preferred treatment of the body.

His testament further charged that if the body were embalmed, then whoever embalmed it

would be responsible to pay for it, absolving one’s executors of any fees associated with

it. In my sample his testament was the only one that mentioned the practice embalming.

Nevertheless, the bishop intended his body to be buried in the cathedral.161

As educated peninsulars, Verger and Llanos were two outsiders to Monterrey’s

local religious economy. Whereas Verger actively promoted the cult of Nuestra Señora

del Roble through the publication of a novena and charitable gift, Llanos seems to have

done little to further the local Marian cult. Rather, Llanos’ tenure was filled with a

number of major projects, though plagued with the spending crisis. As two of Archbishop

Núñez de Haro y Peralta’s lieutenants, they sought to lead reineros into a new age of

Catholicism. One of my project’s primary objectives is to measure changes in pious

159 AHM, Testamento de Andrés Ambrosio de Llanos y Valdés, 31 August 1793, Prot., vol. 58,

exp. 91. 160 As bishop, his testament employs the “royal we.” 161 The cathedral was the bishop’s “seat” going back to the late antique idea that bishops served as

regional ecclesiastical judges. The practice of bishopric burial in the cathedral remains today in Monterrey.

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bequests diachronically. In order to accomplish this, my sample includes 50 testaments

from 1700 to 1776 and 50 from 1777 to 1810. The cutoff date between the two ranges is

the foundation of the Diocese of Linares (Monterrey). This dissertation compares and

contrasts specific pious bequests in an effort to determine whether and to what extent

baroque piety remained evident in last wills and testaments or the emergence of modern

religious piety can be detected.

The Last Will and Testament in Colonial Monterrey

Colonial wills written in Nuevo Reino de León follow the same basic outline of

wills written in Spain and elsewhere in colonial Latin America. In early modern Spain,

there were two categories of wills: (1) holographic wills were handwritten wills written

by the testator, and (2) nuncupative, or oral, wills were handwritten by notaries

(escribanos) in the presence of three to five witnesses. Carlos Eire notes that most

Spanish wills belong to the latter category. I have yet to find a holographic will from

colonial Monterrey. The reason for this is that wills, like other notarial documents, were

closely regulated by the crown and required paperwork to ensure their legality. There

were few educational opportunities in Monterrey. Only 49 percent of testators signed

their own names. For those who could not, one of the witnesses signed the testator’s

name, making a notation of what occurred. In early modern Spain most notaries learned

the notarial profession while serving in apprenticeships, though some bought the office

without serving as an apprentice. The practice continued in colonial Mexico, yet the

northern frontier struggled with procuring official notaries. From 1759 to 1801, the office

of notary (escribano público y de cabildo) remained vacant, and testaments were largely

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written by crown officials serving as scribes. In 1776, Juan Rosicler tried to purchase the

office for 600 pesos but was unsuccessful.162 In 1792, the crown opened the Colegio de

Escribanos in Mexico City, requiring aspiring notaries to attend for advanced training.

Prior to this, most of those writing testaments learned the basics of will writing from

practicing notaries or simply from one of the many books about writing wills that

circulated in colonial Mexico.163 Above all, the office notary dispensed public faith (fe

pública) through the writing and authorizing juridical documents, such as contracts and

wills.

About half of all testators issued their last will and testaments while sick in bed.

Others merely complained of old age or habitual aches. For those testators who sensed

death coming quickly, they often gave poder para testar, which functioned similarly to

power of attorney, entrusting a close family member or friend to complete their will

because they had neither the time nor the strength.164 Many times the poder document

makes reference to the death of a testator, signaling that there would have been no time to

draft a testament; therefore, the one given power of attorney by the testator fulfilled the

wishes of the testator. Poderes generally include a paragraph which detail the

circumstances surrounding the testator and then jump into the standard outline of a

testament.

162 Israel Cavazos Garza, “Los Notarios en Monterrey, Siglos XVI al XIX,” Roel 4-6, no. 2

(2008): 129. 163 For example, there is is a modern published version by an eighteenth-century notary from

Querétaro. See Juan Elías Ortiz de Logroño, Un formulario notarial mexicano del siglo XVIII: la Instrucción de escribanos de Juan Elías de Logroño, ed. Juan Ricardo Jiménez Gómez (México, DF: Miguel Ángel Porrúa, 2005).

164 There are differences between poder and power of attorney. In colonial Mexico the individual granted poder by the testator acts in the stead of testator even after the testator’s death, such as working with the notary to draw up the testator’s posthumous will or memoria testamentaria. In the present-day U.S. context, however, power of attorney becomes void upon the testator’s death.

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Testators healthy enough for travel typically met with the notary to draw up the

will, though half of all testators waited until they were sick to call for a notary. In this

case, the notary traveled to the testator’s residence to take notes in order to draft the will.

The notary wrote the will on official paper supplied by the crown and stamped with the

crown’s seal. A testament from 1804, for example, included a Latin phrase on top of the

seal, “Hispaniarum Rex Carolus IV D.G.,” referring to the King of Spain, Charles IV, by

the grace of God.165 The year and fee also appear at the top of the page. During the years

1700-1709, the paper cost one real per sheet and from 1798-1810 the price increased to

two reales per sheet.166 Some testaments, though, were written on common paper for lack

of official paper, and these testaments apologetically note the obvious at the conclusion

of the testament.167 Regardless of the kind of paper the testaments were written on, the

general outline of the will used by reineros appears quite similar to its earlier Spanish

predecessor.

In From Madrid to Purgatory, Eire offers an outline of a last will and testament

(Table 1). The general outline appears almost identical to the wills from Monterrey with

one exception. Reineros generally did not include minute details concerning the funeral,

so very little can be gleaned concerning the funeral cortege, or procession. As the

eighteenth century drew on, testators generally preferred to leave almost all details about

165 D.G. is the Latin abbreviation for dei gratia. This is similar to the refrain recited at mass, deo

gratias, or thanks be to God. 166 María Juana de la Garza’s 1801 poder cost “un quartillo,” that is one-fourth of a peso, or two

reales. 167 For example, in 1748, Doña Josefa Francisca Cantú del Río y la Serda authorized her late

husband’s testament by virtue of poder, General Francisco Ignacio de Larralde. At the end of the poder, there is a somewhat apologetic statement indicating that the poder is “on common paper since the official paper is not being sold in the kingdom.” AHM, Testamento del Gral. Francisco Ignacio de Larralde, 1 Enero 1748, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 281, no. 128.

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the funeral up to one’s executors whom they entrusted to plan appropriately. In early

modern Spain, for example, the poor were often paid a small wage to be in the funeral

procession and mourn for the recently departed. The deceased thus provided charity to

help the poor, a pious work in its own right, while benefitting from their prayers on the

day of the burial. As the poor looked on to the deceased whom they mourned not even

death could separate the cultural and economic divide that separated the haves and the

have-nots. Funeral processions, like feast day processions, were important events in

baroque Catholicism that provided the community a pause to observe the rhythms of life

and death.

In this chapter I have attempted to lay the groundwork to understand the particular

historical context of colonial Monterrey. Baroque piety encouraged devotees to

participate in an ostentatious and community-oriented tradition that promoted Tridentine

reforms. A theology of sacred immanence undergirded baroque understandings

concerning divinity and matter, whereby the presence of the Jesus, Mary, and the saints

were manifested in the devotional images and objects that represent them. Even in an

impoverished region like Nuevo Reino de León devout Catholics found ways to promote

the splendor and grandeur of the church and her liturgy. Economic elites, in particular,

poured significant amounts of assets in an effort to build, rebuild, and adorn their places

of worship. In a city founded in search of silver, slaves, and water, eighteenth-century

Monterrey became a key administrative and ecclesiastical city, home to a diocese,

college-seminary, and hospital. Although there was a lacuna of notaries, crown officials

acted as notaries and followed a set outline to record the last will and testaments of their

fellow pilgrims awaiting purgatory.

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I. Preliminaries: Approaching the Divine Tribunal A. Invocation B. Identification C. Preamble 1. Supplication 2. Meditation on death 3. Meditation on judgment 4. Profession of faith D. Encommendation II. Disposing of the Body: The Funeral A. Place of Burial B. Burial Dress C. Vigil and immediate suffrages D. Cortege and funeral procession III. Saving the Soul: Pious Bequests A. Suffrages B. Charity IV. Dividing Up the Estate: Distributive Clauses V. Closing: Work for the Survivors A. Naming of testators B. Identification of funds to be used C. Witnessing and signing

Table 1: Outline of an Early Modern Spanish Last Will and

Testament by Carlos Eire168

168 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 36.

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CHAPTER 2: PREPARING FOR PURGATORY

Like most colonial testators, José Salvador Lozano named his personal

intercessors as he dictated his will in February of 1773. Before designating where all of

his earthy possessions would go once he died, Lozano named his intercessors in the

presence of witnesses with the hope that they might in turn advocate for him at his

judgment. In Catholicism, the saints and angels function as influential mediators between

God and humans. Western religious traditions are filled with saintly figures and heavenly

hosts who maintained the significant role of a mediator.169 Since reineros perceived of

death as something to be afraid of, testators needed the support of their intercessors to

advocate for them and for their loved ones. José Salvador Lozano named, “Our Lady the

Virgin Mary in her admirable advocacy (advocación) as Guadalupe whom I chose as my

advocate (abogada) in the terrible trance of death with my holy guardian angel and

patronage of the most glorious patriarch Saint Joseph, the saint of my name.”170 Of the

plethora of Catholic saints one could have selected, colonial wills from Monterrey feature

just a handful by name. The most popular intercessor is by far the Virgin Mary, who

appears as an intercessor in 80 percent of wills. A theological title generally accompanies

the Virgin, such as the Most Holy Virgin, the Virgin of the Immaculate Conception, and

the Queen of Heaven, to indicate her exalted status.

The Virgin of Guadalupe, the patroness of New Spain, was the only specific title

of the Virgen mentioned as an intercessor in the will’s introduction. Saint Joseph,

169 For example, Moses and the prophets of ancient Israel, Jesus of Nazareth and the apostles in

the New Testament, and Muhammad in the Qur’an all functioned as mediators between God and his people. The Catholic archangels, Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel, have been viewed as saints in their own right due to their holiness and intercession on behalf of humans.

170 AHM, Testamento de José Salvador Lozano, 26 Febrero 1773, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 299, no. 32.

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typically described as her loyal husband, is also fairly ubiquitous in the testaments. Some

50 percent of the testators claimed Mary and Joseph as intercessors, but none of these

claimed Joseph without Mary, demonstrating the importance of Mary as the primary

advocate for reineros. Other popular saints, like Francis, Peter, Paul, and the archangel

Michael appear sparingly as intercessors.171 Roughly one-third of testators preferred to

claim all of the saints of the heavenly court. In 1766, Monterrey’s notary public was

seriously injured in an accident. Don José Ignacio Treviño called upon the usual

intercessors—the Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph, but he also called upon “all of the saints

of each testament.”172 That is, he called upon the saints of the Old Testament (Hebrew

Bible) as well as the New Testament. Most testators and their notaries preferred to use the

expression “all saints of the heavenly court” so as not to leave any potential intercessor

out. One could never have too much support in the throes of judgment. Treviño requested

that they serve as his mediators at the hour of his death. The calling upon saints as

intercessors served as a culturally accepted way to cope with the pain of death,

separation, and judgment. One-fifth of testators called upon “the saints of my devotion”

as intercessors, though they do not identify these saints outright in the introduction. The

saint, an object of personal and corporate devotion, provided a sense of familiarity and

assurance as one approached the unknown.173 Reported miracles attached to the saints

demonstrated their concern over human affairs. In the hour of their greatest need, facing

171 Saints Francis and Michael are found as intercessors in 7 percent of wills, whereas saints Paul

and Peter were found in 4 and 3 percent, respectively. 172 AHM, Testamento de José Ignacio Treviño, 14 Septiembre 1766, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 107,

no. 55. 173 For more on the personal and collective nature of adoring the saints, see Yolanda Lastra, Dina

Sherzer, and Joel Sherzer, Adoring the Saints: Fiestas in Central Mexico (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2009), 24-28. The authors write from the vantage point of studying patron saint fiestas in Central Mexico, including Holy Burial (Santo Entierro) in Cruz del Palmar and St. Louis (San Luis Rey) in San Luis de la Paz. Each community honored the other community’s patron saint.

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an unknown future and impending judgment, testators asked their advocates for

protection. The inclusion of saintly intercessors was one of several components of a

colonial last will and testament.

In this chapter I aim to analyze the main components of the introduction in

colonial wills from Monterrey quantitatively and qualitatively in order to describe the

will’s function as a religious and legal document. The five components of the

introduction include the invocation, identification of testator, meditation on death,

profession of faith, and commending the soul to God and the body to earth. The standard

practice of opening a will with an invocation signals the religious nature of the document

and the profession of faith aimed to identify the testator’s adherence to orthodox beliefs

concerning the God, Jesus, Mary, and the church. A study of identification, for example,

allows us to begin to ascertain who participated in the writing of colonial wills in

Monterrey. Testators identified where they were from originally, where they resided, and

who their parents were in an effort to declare themselves as legitimate sons and daughters

within the community. To demonstrate the importance of legitimacy in terms of

inheritance, I will examine the will and other legal documents of Francisco Ortiz de Oteo,

a self-declared “natural” son who embarked on a three-year legal suit to obtain his

inheritance rights. Testators generally offered a brief statement on the nearness and

severity of death before they confess their faith, which allowed testators to claim

orthodox beliefs and thus ensure proper Christian burial. The most dominant intercessor,

the Virgin Mary, appears in the wills under various titles referencing specific apparition

stories and traditions. In this chapter we will focus on two specific titles, Nuestra Señora

de Guadalupe, the patroness of New Spain, and Nuestra Señora del Roble, the patroness

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of Monterrey, in order to better understand the variety of traditions that surround

devotion to the Virgin. Lastly, the will functioned as a religious document that expressed

not only the testator’s desire to commend his or her soul to God, but also to commend his

or her body to the earth. Although one might be tempted to gloss over the will’s

introduction quickly, much can be learned about the testator’s origins, family

background, and personal intercessors.

The Introduction of a Colonial Mexican Will

Ever since the medieval era composers of last wills and testaments followed a

basic outline. Philippe Ariès has identified the religious aspects of this schema as early as

the Song of Roland, an eighth-century poem in Old French.174 This basic outline assumes

that wills have two distinct parts, the religious and the legal.175 The first half of the will

was considered the religious part, which focused on the testator’s immortal soul, whereas

the second half of the will was considered the legal part, which provided information

about the testator’s assets and bequests. Upon closer inspection, however, this traditional

way of viewing wills fails to recognize the multivalent nature of colonial testamentary

documents. Rather than employing a simple binary, I aim to complicate matters by noting

there were “religious” concerns in the so-called legal part and “legal” concerns in the so-

174 Ariès wrote, “The pious clauses occur in an immutable order, which still follows the sequence

of the gestures and words of Roland at the hour of his death. It is as if the will—or at any rate the religious part of it—had been oral long before it came to be written down.” Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 189.

175 “At the end of his life, the church member confesses his faith, acknowledges his sins, and redeems them by a public document written ad pias causas. In exchange, the Church arranges for the reconciliation of the sinner and deducts from his inheritance a death tithe, which increases both her material wealth and its spiritual treasury. This explains why until the middle of the eighteenth century, the will consists of two equally important parts: first, the pious clauses; and next, the distribution of the inheritance.” Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 189.

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called religious part. Even though the first half of the will clearly has religious

concerns—an invocation, profession of faith, masses, and funeral and burial details—the

testator first had to first establish legal standing in society. For example, the testator had

to convince the draftsman of his/her sanity in order to make a will. Whereas the testator

offered a statement attesting to his or her sanity in the first person, the draftsperson made

a similar statement in the third person about the testator at the conclusion of the will.

Additionally, the testator established legitimacy by listing his/her legal parents. Lastly,

the testator identified one’s current residency and original homeland. Within the “legal”

half of the testament, the testator made pious bequests and ordered the donation of

charitable gifts to benefit the church and popular religious traditions, signaling one’s

religious commitment.

Nearly all of the colonial testaments from Monterrey open with an invocation or

prayer.176 The three invocations employed in the colonial testaments written in and

around Monterrey were “In the Name of God, Amen,” “In the Name of the Father, Son,

and Holy Spirit, Amen,” and “In the Name of God and Most Holy Virgin Mary, Amen”

or some close derivation of these examples. A few late testaments do not open with an

invocation and opt for a secular introductory phrase. María Antonia de la Garza’s 1808

will opens with, “La ciudad de Monterrey en once de Octubre de mil ochocientos

ocho.”177 Wills do not indicate if the testator was given a choice in the matter or if the

draftsperson simply supplied the stock phrase. Karen Sneddon explains how draftspeople

176 Of my sample, 92 percent of testaments open with an invocation. At 60 percent, the most

common invocation was “In the name of God, Amen” or “In the name of God Almighty, Amen.” This was followed by some version of “In the Name of God Almighty and the Most Holy Virgin” at 24 percent and an invocation to the Trinity, registering at 8 percent.

177 AHM, Testamento de María Antonia de la Garza, 11 Octubre 1808, Prot., vol. 28, exp. 30, f. 0.

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crafted a “ceremonial voice” in the opening part of the will “that sounds little like the

individual testator’s conversational voice” for the purpose of lending “a sense of the

profound to the occasion and supports the channeling function of formalities.”178 By

invoking God, both testators and notaries hoped to hold executors accountable for their

responsibilities.179 Notaries more frequently employed Latin in the invocation than other

scribes, most typically with “In nomine Dei” as their medieval predecessors.180 Scribes

often use the Spanish equivalent, “En el nombre de Dios.” The reason colonial testaments

include a prayer to begin the will goes back to medieval precedent that the will was part

of the testator’s final confession. Members of the medieval clergy or writers, known as

scriveners, were responsible for drafting wills.181 Sneddon suggests that the “continuation

of the invocation of ‘the mysteries of God’ beyond the period of the clerical draftsperson

may be more of a function of the ritual of the will.”182 Testaments written by members of

the clergy were quite rare in Monterrey. My sample only includes one will written by a

Franciscan friar. Nevertheless, nearly all draftspersons followed the same structure,

beginning with an invocation. Although the “ritual” of will writing, as Sneddon puts it,

placed a high premium on conforming to predetermined standards and use of a lofty

178 The two places the ceremonial voice can be seen most clearly is in the exordium at the

beginning and the testimonium towards the end. Karen J. Sneddon, “Speaking for the Dead: Voice in Last Wills and Testaments,” St. John’s Law Review 85 (2011): 736.

179 Karen J. Sneddon, “In the Name of God, Amen: Language in Last Wills and Testaments,” Quinnipiac Law Review 29 (2011): 699-700.

180 That being said, it would not be overreaching to think that a colonial testator could not muster a Latin phrase given that the mass would have been in Latin. The testator would probably not have been able to write the phrase unless he or she was the beneficiary of education, such as a trained clergyman or educated elite. From time to time, notaries made use of stock Latin phrases. Besides the invocation, the most common ones were in solidum, ad verbum, and ad bono. Writing about English wills, Karen Sneddon points out that the Latin phrases “In nomine domini nostri Iesus Christi” and “In nomine domini” were most common Anglo-Saxon wills. For more, see Sneddon, “In the Name of God,” 665-727.

181 Hence, escribano in Spanish, or “scribe” in English. 182 Sneddon notes that the use of an invocation waned in the late nineteenth and early twentieth

centuries in the U.S. Sneddon, “In the Name of God,” 698.

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vocabulary, in turn minimizing individuality, my contention is that the colonial will

functioned as a testament of one’s desires, spiritual and material, within the framework of

a formulaic outline.

After declaring a belief in the highest mystery of the Trinity and the incarnation of

the Word, Luis Antonio de la Serna y Alarcón’s 1789 will records his belief in “the pure

womb of Our Lady the Virgin Mary by the work of the Holy Spirit remaining a pure

virgin intact before the delivery, in the delivery, and after the delivery.”183 Testators who

invoked the Virgin alongside God often allude to her unique status as enunciated in the

doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, the belief that the Virgin Mary was conceived

free from original sin by virtue of God’s grace and Christ’s foreseen merits.184 Testators

reflected popular theological views of their zeitgeist. Juan de Zuazua’s preamble written

in 1803 emphasized both Mary’s “most pure heart” and “most holy womb” to signal her

183 The original states: “Purísimas entrañas de Nuestra Señora la Virgen María para obra del

Espíritu Santo quedando pura intacta virgen antes del parto en el parto y después del parto.” AHM, Testamento de Luis Antonio de la Serna y Alarcón, 3 Noviembre 1789, Prot., vol. 20, exp. 1, f. 332, no. 177.

184 The classic biblical text used to express this doctrine is Luke 1:28, “And he [Gabriel] came to her and said, ‘Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.’” The Douay-Rheims and several other Catholic translations provide the traditional rendering “hail, full of grace,” or “ave gratia plena” in the Vulgate. Modern translations offer a footnote indicating that certain ancient authorities add, “Blessed are you among women,” as also said in the rosary.

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otherness and exalted status.185 The teaching of the Immaculate Conception appears to

have been more favored by eastern Christians in the late antiquity. When the popularity

of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception arose in the West, the doctrine faced a

firestorm of controversy, inciting vitriolic opposition from the likes of Bernard of

Clairvaux, Thomas Aquinas, and Bonaventure.186 On the other hand, the Franciscans,

notably John Duns Scotus, generally defended the doctrine against the concern that the

teaching would exempt Mary from needing Christ’s salvific work. In colonial Monterrey,

a hotbed for Franciscan missionary work, the doctrine can be found in numerous

invocations to Mary. For example, in 1773, José Salvador Lozano’s testament opens

with, “In the name of God Almighty and of the always Virgin Mary Our Lady conceived

in grace and glory in the first instance of her most immaculate (purísimo) being,

amen.”187 The prayer, therefore, not only attests to Lozano’s orthodoxy, but also speaks

to his theological knowledge, or at least the theological knowledge of the draftsperson.

This project would be remiss if it did not mention the popularity of la Purísima, a popular

185 The phrase “most pure heart of Mary” is associated with the Immaculate Heart of Mary

devotion, popular during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Its feast day was originally celebrated on 8 February by St. John Eudes, and Pius VI authorized the Bishop of Palermo to celebrate the Most Pure Heart of Mary feast in 1799. The feast was observed more widely with the concessions provided by Pius VII in 1805. Juan de Zuazua’s preamble states: “In the most pure heart and holy womb of Mary by the work of the Holy Spirit, remaining always virgin before the birth, in the birth, and after the birth, and all of the other articles of mystery of our holy Catholic faith, in which I have lived, I want, and I testify, and die as a faithful Christian and true Catholic, waiting in the divine majesty that he has piety and mercy on me and he has forgiven me of my faults, and sins by the merits and most precious blood of my Lord Jesus Christ his most holy son, and his mother the most holy Virgin Mary, whom I have chosen as my defender, mediator, and intercessor for the terrible trance of death that forces itself on me, with my guardian angel, saint of my name, the most faithful patriarch St. Joseph, and the other saints of my devotion who assist me in the tremendous tribunal of God Our Lord, and being that death waits to catch me off guard at an uncertain hour, and not knowing how it’s coming, neither when, I declare and determine all that corresponds to my soul, and relieving my conscience, I order and place his my testament and last will in the following form and manner.” AHM, Testamento de Juan de Zuazua, 30 Diciembre 1803, Prot., vol. 26, exp. 117, f. 0.

186 Controversy surrounding the teaching was not put to rest until Pope Pius IX defined the dogma ex cathedra in his 1854 bull, Ineffabilis Deus.

187 AHM, Testamento de José Salvador Lozano, 26 Febrero 1773, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 299, no. 32.

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devotion in seventeenth-century Spanish villages.188 As with other theological terms,

reineros used the phrase Purísima Concepción as a place name for a hacienda, village,

chapel, and even a dam within the region.189

Data from the sample testaments reveal that 60 percent of wills open with the

invocation “In the name of God Almighty, Amen” in Spanish or Latin. About 24 percent

of testaments open with “In the name of God Almighty” coupled with the name of the

Virgin. During the years 1700-1776, the number jumps to about 32 percent, so fewer

testaments open with referencing the Virgin in the invocation during 1777 to 1810.

However, one ought not to conclude that the Virgin’s popularity decreased over time, for

my sample also indicates that the Virgin maintained a formidable presence as intercessor

and the popularity of the name “María” for girls increased over time. The decrease in the

use of the Virgin’s name in the invocations can be explained as draftspersons’s

preferences for how to open wills. Wills which open with the Virgin’s name tend to

allude to the Immaculate Conception, yet they stay clear of referencing any specific

apparition of Mary. The reason was most likely twofold: (1) there was a long-standing

Spanish tradition for referencing the Virgin and specifically her Immaculate Conception

in prayer and (2) the Immaculate Conception speaks to the Virgin’s nature as opposed to

a specific geographic area associated with her apparition. The church in Spain had sought

to homogenize local manifestations in an effort to promote official understandings and

188 Sara Nalle reports that “The cult of the Immaculate Conception, one of the most highly

promoted devotions of the seventeenth century, gained seven new shrines in these remote villages.” Nalle, God in La Mancha, 178.

189 Constructed in 1942, the Basilica of La Purísima is another example the doctrine’s importance and influence in Monterrey.

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devotions to the Virgin.190 Invocations to the Trinity were far less common and generally

appear around the same time period. Less than 10 percent opened with an invocation to

the Trinity.191 Ana María Benavides’ 1803 testament opens with an invocation that reads

as a summary of the doctrine of the Trinity: “In the name of God of the Most Holy

Trinity God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, three distinct people and

only one true God.”192 In December of the same year, Juan de Zuazua’s testament opens

with the exact same words. Both of these testaments were written by the same alcalde

ordinario (member of the local cabildo), José Francisco de Arizpe, indicating the scribe’s

personal preference. The Trinity is referenced in two 1742 testaments written just one

month apart, though written by different scribes.193 The above evidence at least suggests

that draftspersons selected the invocation based on their familiarity with the terminology

or potentially personal preferences. A statement of identification by the testator

immediately followed the invocation.

190 Nalle writes, “During the seventeenth century, the cult of Mary more than ever came to serve as

the bridge between local faith and the universal church. Villages placed enormous emphasis on Mary as the protector of humankind, to the detriment of the central message of Catholicism, redemption through Christ’s sacrifice. To regain the correct perspective, the church promoted cults that emphasized Mary’s suffering for the loss of her son. . . . The important regional shrines, which were almost always were centered on a local manifestation of the Virgin, were more closely identified with the church and in a sense homogenized, despite each cult’s claim to uniqueness.” Nalle, God in La Mancha, 178.

191 The reason that these numbers do not equal 100 percent is that there were a few testaments in my sample which omitted the invocation, such as the Rafael José Verger’s will, which was written in haste due to his condition.

192 AHM, Testamento de Ana María Benavides, 21 Mayo 1803, Prot., vol. 26, exp. 101, f. 0. 193 One will was written by a Franciscan friar, Fray Gerónimo Antonio de la Portilla, and the other

by an alcalde mayor from Santa Catarina, Juan Francisco García.

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Who Were the Testators of Colonial Monterrey?

Wills were not unique by opening with an invocation. Other colonial documents

begin with an invocation, such as city council records. However, one immediately

recognizes if the document is a last will and testament by what follows after the

invocation. There are a couple of common ways in which draftspersons would begin. For

example, “Notorio y manifiesta sea a todos los que la presente carta de testamento y

última final voluntad vieren como nos (name of testator). . . ” or “I authorize and

manifest to all who are present that this letter of testament and last will” was common.

Another common way begins “Sepan cuantos esta carta vieren de mi testamento,” or

“That you may know this letter serves as my testament” was common. These stock

phrases quickly allow the reader to identify properly the document. The testator’s name,

current residency, and place of origin follows the expression, “Como yo _____,” or “As I

_____.”194 Individual wills are by far the most common type of testament in colonial

Monterrey. In fact, the only joint or mutual will in my sample were for a husband and

wife, General Pedro de Elizondo and María de la Garza, and for two sisters, María Josefa

Balbina Barrera and María Úrsula Evarista Barrera. The married couple drew up their

will while in good health though in “advanced” in age in 1740.195 Parents of 13 children,

Pedro and María left most of their assets to their children, leaving behind 100 pesos to

pay for two high masses to be said on a day selected by their executors for their suffrages.

194 There is the curious case whereby the draftsperson, in this case General Don Antonio

Fernández Vallejo, did not name the testator in one will, though she was identified as the wife of Vicente de Vozmediano. However, she selected “Josefa, whom I raised as my daughter” as her principal heir and executor. See AHM, Testamento (No dice el nombre de la testadora), 1 January 1693, Prot., vol. 5, exp. 1, f. 56, no. 21.

195 Despite the title of the document given by the Archivo Histórico de Monterrey, the testament was drawn up jointly (testamento mutuo) for General Pedro de Elizondo and Doña Beatriz González de Paredes. AHM, Testamento del General Pedro de Elizondo, 15 Septiembre 1740, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 405 vto., no. 186.

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The first one identified with this responsibility was their eldest son, Bartolomé. The joint

will of the two sisters was drawn up in solidum on Christmas Eve 1798.196 The Latin

legal expression, in solidum, refers to “for the whole,” or the idea that each person is

liable “for the whole,” so if payment is made to one, it is made for all parties. The two

sisters were doncellas, a term that referred to unmarried, chaste young women or elderly

women in colonial Mexico. In 1798, a smallpox epidemic broke out in Monterrey, and as

a result, there was an uptick in the number of wills written due to fear of death. Although

they claimed to be healthy at the time of their will, they felt the need to prepare for their

deaths and the hereafter.

Most testators in colonial Monterrey were men. The ratio between male-to-female

testators seems consistent with other parts of colonial Mexico. Both Larkin and Porter

found that about two-thirds of all testators were men in Mexico City, Saltillo and San

Esteban de Nueva Tlaxcala, respectively.197 In Monterrey, approximately 72 percent of

all 260 testators were men. Over time, there was a slight increase in the percentage of

women testators, but the increase is not sufficiently substantial to warrant explanation. In

fact, what is striking is the near consistency concerning the gender ratio of testators in

colonial Mexico. Nevertheless, when women did make wills, they were almost always

widows. Since testators had Spanish names, it is rather easy to identify males and

females.198 In cases where a traditional female name is given to a male as a second name

one can still discern the testator’s gender by noting the first name. Perhaps the best

196 AHM, Testamento otorgado in solidum por María Josefa Balbina y María Úrsula Evarista

Barrera, 24 Diciembre 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 132, no. 51. 197 Larkin, The Very Nature of God, 20, 183-184. Porter, Their Lives, Their Wills, 18. 198 For example, Spanish borrows the masculine “o” ending and feminine “a” from Latin, so there

is no question in regards to gender in names like Antonio/a or Francisco/a.

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example of this occurs in the relatively common names “José María.” Indigenous

testators, such as Antonia Teresa, received Christian (Spanish) names upon baptism. As

we shall explore in more depth in chapter four, widowhood provided women a unique

status in the local community as heads-of-households, business leaders, and investors.

Wealthy widows who inherited property and movable goods from their husbands and

parents rented land and animals for income.199 Because Spanish law allowed women to

write testaments and retain their own dowries, women in certain respects had greater

autonomy and voice in Latin America than their colonial counterparts to the north bound

by English law. Many widows with financial need and a family to support would

naturally have the necessity to remarry.

The scribe did not generally announce the testator’s profession outright unless he

served in a position in the military, civil government or church or, in the case of a

woman, she was married to a man who held one of these esteemed positions in colonial

society. Professional titles such as “general,” “sargento mayor,” “cura,” “alférez real,”

or “alcalde” accompany one’s name to recognize the testator’s status. Titles of honor,

such as “don” and “doña,” are applied to most testators, indicating their status in the

community. Carlos Eire’s study of wills in sixteenth-century Madrid revealed a wide

variety of professional positions held by testators: clergy, nobility, civil administrators,

199 More work needs to be done on land ownership in Nuevo Reino de León. Susan Deeds

describes land ownership in northern New Spain, “The size of landholdings in the near north varied considerably in time and space. Landholding was not static, but in a state of constant change reflected in the relatively rapid turnover of properties at least until the late colonial period. A substantial group of smallholders and tenant farmers coexisted with large estate owners. These rancheros and tenants engaged mostly in maize production, a risky enterprise, while large-scale commercial haciendas tended to shift to wheat. Haciendas were overwhelmingly market-oriented, and as the market demands and population grew, the tendency toward consolidation of estates increased.” Susan M. Deeds, “Land Tenure Patters in Northern New Spain,” The Americas 41, no. 4 (1985): 449

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court functionaries, soldiers, lawyers, physicians, merchants, artisans, laborers, servants,

and prostitutes.200 By contrast wills from eighteenth-century Monterrey reveal a smaller

range of professions given Monterrey’s size and status as more of a frontier outpost.

Some reinero testators were owners of significant land and animal resources or members

of a coveted professional class, such as civil administrators, notaries, merchants, soldiers,

and clergy. Ranchers with just a few animals and laborers were among the poorest of

testators. The destitute of Monterrey neither had resources to bequeath nor resources to

pay for such a service, thus leaving no paper trail behind. The paucity of testaments

indicates that only a sliver of society participated in writing last wills and testaments.

With a population of over six thousand, it is striking to note that less than 120 reineros

made a will during the years 1790 to 1810 (Table 2).

The majority of testators were creoles, meaning that they were born in the New

World to Spanish parents. Colonial records in Monterrey often referred to creoles as

“españoles” even though they had not been born in Spain, yet many married within their

predefined socio-economic and ethnic group. A few testators were born in Spain

throughout the first half of the eighteenth century, but over time the number of

peninsulars tapered off. In my sample, the testator Juan de Zuazua was born in Castile,

yet this was indeed rare. Only 8 percent of testators in my sample were born in Spain, and

even fewer (3 percent) who self-identified as children of peninsulars. In fact, Juan de

Zuazua was the only peninsular in my sample beyond the 1740s. Nearly 80 percent of the

testators lived in and around Monterrey, a city encompassed by haciendas. A few lived in

other cities, such as Cadereyta or Cerralvo in the north or even Saltillo to the west. As

200 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 57-61.

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Monterrey’s population grew, a higher percentage of testators identified with living in or

near the town. From 1700-1776, 66 percent of testators lived in or within the jurisdiction

of Monterrey and the rest lived in other cities and villages; however, from 1777-1810, a

full 90 percent lived in Monterrey. It is plausible to consider that testators from other

cities no longer had to travel to Monterrey to find draftspersons as more men learned the

trade in the midst of a shortage in professional notaries throughout the kingdom. The

testators who traveled to Monterrey from afar often had a practical reason for doing so,

such as family members or executors in the area or they were originally from Monterrey,

and they maintained familial and social connections with locals. Most wished to be

buried in the parish church, later the cathedral.

Decade Wills Men Women 1700-09 19 14 5 1710-19 19 14 5 1720-29 20 14 6 1730-39 16 11 5 1740-49 20 16 4 1750-59 18 12 6 1760-69 6 4 2 1770-79 6 5 1 1780-89 17 11 6 1790-99 51 37 14 1800-10 65 48 17 Total 258 186 72 72.0% 28.0% Period Wills Men Women 1700-1776 122 88 34 1.61 per year 72.1% 27.9% 1777-1810 137 98 39 4.15 per year 71.5% 28.5%

Table 2: Number of Extant Wills in

Colonial Monterrey

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José Hermenegildo Delgado’s 1798 will is atypical on a number of levels. First,

his testament reveals that he was originally from Monterrey, but he resided in Laredo,

located 140 miles to the north. José accumulated a significant amount of wealth through

raising small livestock, leasing out his 912 sheep to a rancher from Laredo for an income

of 110 yearlings each year at the time of writing his will. The choice for dictating his will

in Monterrey is never explained outright. Unlike most testators, he was neither sick nor

injured from an accident, but he suffered from habitual aches, which is suggestive of an

older testator. His wife, Ana Josefa de la Garza, and his deceased parents were also from

Monterrey, so it is plausible to consider that they planned to stay in the area or at least

visit regularly from Laredo.201 With no living heirs, he designated his wife as both his

executor and primary heir, a practice not uncommon given the circumstance. Their only

son, José Rafael, apparently died at the tender age of only two months, and they were

unable or unwilling to have more children.202 As executor, Ana Josefa would have been

responsible for carrying out the wishes of her husband concerning his burial and funeral.

José requested a humble burial without any pomp, a trend of his day and clear move

away from baroque showiness. To signal his devotion to the Virgen of Guadalupe, he

requested burial in a habit of a religious of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe in the

Franciscan convent. In the event that he would die away from Monterrey he requested

burial in the closest parish church to accommodate ease for his executor, suggesting that

he foresaw future travel probably between Laredo and Monterrey. He, like many of his

201 AHM, Testamento de José Hermenegildo Delgado, 6 Junio 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 54,

no. 25. 202 On this point, the will states that “until the present we have not had more [children].”

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contemporaries, left the rest of the funeral details entirely up to the discretion of his

executor.

Not every testator identified one’s parents, but most did to establish legitimacy

within the community. Perhaps the testators who did not identify their parents did so with

a reason; some could have attempted to hide the fact that they were “natural” children, or

children born out of wedlock or from an extra-marital affair. Certainly those cases would

have caused a scandal in the community. Most testators stressed they were “legitimate”

children born in a “legitimate” marriage. Legitimate children were children born from the

bond of a married couple, whereas legitimate marriage referred to a marriage recognized

by mother church. Ever since Augustine of Hippo, the Catholic Church has emphasized

the procreation of the species as the primary purpose of marriage.203 The exclusion of

one’s parents in the wills, however, could have derived from other reasons, such as an

inexperienced draftsperson, a lack of parental inheritance, or a mistake due to a lack of

time as the testator neared death. Being the legitimate son or daughter proved essential to

obtaining one’s inheritance. Furthermore, testators claimed illegitimate children to ensure

them an inheritance.204 Information on whether the parents were still alive or already

deceased typically trailed their names. José Cantú’s 1737 will lists the names of his

parents, and afterwards includes the statement that “they were already deceased in holy

203 Elizabeth Clark points out that Pope Pius XI’s 1930 encyclical, On Christian Marriage, relied

upon Augustine’s three “goods” of marriage, the good of fidelity, the good of offspring, and the good of the “sacramental bond.” Clark aptly states, “The very fact a head of the Catholic Church in the twentieth century could rest his case so firmly on the teachings of an author who lived a millennium and a half earlier indicates the signal importance of Augustine’s writings on marriage and sexuality for centuries to come.” Elizabeth Clark, “Introduction,” in St. Augustine on Marriage and Sexuality, ed. Elizabeth Clark (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1996), 1.

204 Asunción Lavrin and Edith Couturier, “Dowries and Wills: A View of Women’s Socioeconomic Role in Colonial Guadalajara and Puebla, 1640-1790,” The Hispanic American Historical Review 59, no. 2 (1979): 286.

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glory” (santa gloria), indeed a rather positive statement for the afterlife.205 Cantú’s

statement seemingly challenges the traditional view of purgatory, the place that purges

one’s sins and is theologically associated with fire that cleanses; however, he does not

directly challenge purgatory. Cantú appears to have believed that his parents had been

judged individually, stayed a minimal time in purgatory, and were already experiencing

the beatific vision at the time of writing his will. Further evidence for this includes the

fact that he left no masses in their honor.

A Case Study in Legitimacy and Inheritance

A few testators declared themselves to be natural rather than legitimate children,

yet in these cases there tended to be a good reason for admitting such a designation. One

such example is the case of Francisco Ortiz de Oteo, the self-identified “hijo natural” of

José Ortiz de Oteo and Doña María Ignacia de Hoyos, both of whom were residents of

Monterrey. This small but important fact opens the door to a larger story in his life and

serves as a powerful example of how issues of legitimacy made their way into wills. At

the time of writing his will in 1771, Francisco was engaged in a civil dispute with the

notary public, Don Ignacio Treviño, who also served as one of his maternal grandfather’s

executors.206 The dispute arose over Francisco’s right to claim his grandfather’s

inheritance. Normally testators devoted the first clause to commend their souls to God

and their bodies to the earth or divulge requests pertaining to their funerals or burials.

205 AHM, Testamento de José Cantú, 28 Noviembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, f. 130, no. 59. 206 Treviño was listed as the third executor. AHM, Testamento de Francisco Ortiz de Oteo, 7

Enero 1771, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 230, no. 3.

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Demonstrating how important the right to his grandfather’s inheritance was to his

family’s economy, an ill Francisco devoted the first clause of his will to recount briefly

what had transpired. Although few details emerge in his will, namely, that he had won the

case but the notary had sought to overturn the ruling, more details emerge in city records

in addition to a letter attached to his grandfather’s testament.207

Francisco claimed he was born to José and María Ignacia de Hoyos prior to their

marriage. Because his birth occurred before his parents were legally and ecclesiastically

married, his maternal grandfather, General Don Joseph Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra,

insisted that the child not be raised in his daughter’s house presumably due to the scandal

it would cause in the community, so the child was raised in the household of Javier

Zambrano and his wife, Luisa Flores. At least on paper at the time of his last will and

testament, the general and former alcalde ordinario appears to be rather pious, making

eight pious bequests compared to five which was the median at the time. 208 Nevertheless,

Francisco lived most of his life under the name “José Francisco Zambrano.” He did not

know the truth about his birth parents until most of his family members were already

dead, including his adopted parents, birth parents, and maternal grandfather. In fact, he

described himself as ignorant about his parents, “quedo mi filiación ignorada.” In the

1760 will of his grandfather, Joseph Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra lamented the fact

207 For example, Se confiere poder a Pedro José de Parraga y Suárez, 10 Octubre 1776, Prot., vol.

18, exp. 1, f. 250 vto., no. 125; Se confiere poder al Bachiller Juan Bautista García Dávila, 9 Abril 1771, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 62, no. 31; and Se confiere poder al Sr. Doctor o Licenciado, Abogado Defensor del Superior Tribunal de Bienes de difuntos, 1 Agosto 1769, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 38, no. 19.

208 As the alcalde ordinario de primer voto, he also served as draftsperson for city records whenever the notary was not available, especially in the year 1756. In one example he approved the document whereby another testator, Luis Antonio García de Pruneda and the executor for his father General Juan García de Pruneda, sold a solar, or plot of land, that belonged to his father in the public plaza for 200 pesos in reales to Don Pedro de Barrio Junco y Espriella, Gobernador y Capitán General de Nuevo Reino de León. See Compra-venta, 18 Noviembre 1756, Prot., vol. 16, exp. 1, f. 17 vto., no. 5.

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that both his children had died, José Lorenzo died at nine months and Doña María Ignacia

died without an heir. The general mentioned that he had attended to “all the necessary

correspondences of love as the only daughter whom I had and equally I participated in

her dead and afterwards here in suffrages to alleviate her soul.”209 The general left

Francisco out as a legitimate heir and seemingly sealed Francisco’s destiny as an

outsider.

The details surrounding how Francisco found out are sketchy at best, but there

were a number of residents who claimed to know what really happened. In a 1771

statement, Francisco enumerated 13 names of living and deceased people who knew

about the cover-up.210 Among those on the list include several close family members,

including his adopted mother, and several persons close to the family, such as one of the

general’s slave, and his godmother. The document identifies the fifty-year-old José

Guerra as the “principal motor of the imposture” and the “tío afin” to José Joaquín de

Mier Noriega. This perhaps explains why José Joaquín de Mier Noriega served as

Francisco’s lawyer (apoderado) in an effort to right a family wrong. Two years earlier

the evidence was strong enough to convince the Teniente de Gobernador of Nuevo Reino

de León, José Salvador Lozano. Lozano declared Francisco to be the grandson of General

Joseph Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra and legally entitled to a share of his

grandfather’s large estate (caudal). Furthermore, Lozano ordered José Ignacio Treviño, a

city notary and executor for the late general’s estate, to make Francisco’s inheritance

209 AHM, Testamento del Gral. José Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra, 26 Agosto 1760, Prot., vol.

16, exp. 1, f. 156, no. 61. 210 AHM, Diligencias promovidas por Francisco Ortiz de Oteo y de Hoyos, 1 Enero 1771, Prot.,

vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 1, no. 1.

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available to him.211 Treviño balked at the claim, and, in the words of Francisco, thought

his story was fantastical (“sin embargo de parecerle quimérica la presentación”).

Although Treviño eventually had to follow his orders, he claimed that the litigation

brought forth by José Joaquín de Mier was too late.212 Three days later Francisco refuted

Treviño’s claim.213 Treviño seems to have taken a heightened interest in the dispute and

made a verbal rebuttal on the same day as Francisco’s filing.214

The legal dispute lingered on into 1770. The counsel representing Francisco, José

Joaquín de Mier Noriega, filed paperwork arguing that the term of José Ignacio Treviño’s

appeal had expired.215 Resolution came seven months later when José Joaquín de Mier

Noriega declared his client as the winner because the Real Audiencia de Guadalajara

deserted the appeal.216 Francisco signed the document, ending the nearly three-year legal

dispute. When beneficiaries needed capital, they often resorted to selling off their

family’s inheritance. Fifteen years later, Francisco’s death triggered the sale of his hard

won inheritance. His attorney, José Joaquín de Mier Noriega, sold Miraflores, a

compound that included a house, garden, and access to water near Saltillo for a sum of

450 pesos. The bill of sale notes poetically that Miraflores had been owned by the family

“since time immemorial.”217 Francisco’s inheritance also included a house described as

211 AHM, Declaración de parentesco y anulación de testamento, 18 Febrero 1769, Prot., vol. 17,

exp. 1, f. 104. 212 AHM, Se alega que la renovación de litigio esta fuera de tiempo, 2 Diciembre 1768, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 70.

213 AHM, Se refuta a José Ignacio Treviño, 5 Diciembre 1768, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 77. 214 AHM, Declaración verbal de José Ignacio Treviño rebatiendo el escrito anterior, 5 Diciembre

1768, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 81. 215 AHM, Solicita se declara improcedente cualquier apelación que interpusiere, 1 Enero 1771,

Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 110. 216 AHM, Se apelación y sentencia a favor de Francisco Ortiz de Oteo, 11 Octubre 1770, Prot.,

vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 217. 217 AHM, Venta de una casa, huerta, y aguas llamadas de Miraflores, 25 Febrero 1785, Prot., vol.

20, exp. 1, f. 164, no. 106.

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being “composed of a hallway, two rooms, a bedroom, two kitchens, a shop, and a back

room, with a stone-corralled wall.”218 The home would remain in the family until after

Francisco’s death. In 1792, Francisco’s wife and second husband mortgaged the home for

300 pesos in reales to Dr. Andrés Feliu y Ragores, the cathedral’s cantor and Juez de

Testamentos, Capellanías y Obras Pías. A little more than 20 years after Francisco’s legal

dispute he and his heirs had sold off much of his inheritance.

Francisco’s will also points out that even though testators were concerned with

the fate of their immortal souls, they were also concerned with the fate of their family’s

immediate economic state. Although at first glance the first half of colonial wills from

Monterrey tended to concentrate on spiritual concerns, yet upon closer view, everyday

life concerns find their way into wills and those immediate concerns breakthrough the

formula’s monotony. A review of Francisco Ortiz de Oteo’s case brings to light the

importance of securing one’s right to an inheritance. Opportunities for wealth creation

slowly expanded throughout the eighteenth century as the economy grew, yet without

investment capital, it was a difficult to build up one’s herd of sheep, goats, or cattle or

other local businesses.219 Many testators obtained capital from their inheritance and

dowries (dotes) their wives brought into the marriage.

218 AHM, Se otorga recibo de pago a favor del Dr. Andrés Feliu y Tagores, 5 Septiembre 1792,

Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 302, no. 171. 219 Monterrey’s slow development toward an economic hub of the north was further developed by

the train during the nineteenth century. However, Monterrey failed to impress at least one 1884 traveler. He wrote, “Beyond establishing a few cheap bar-rooms, and even though these charged a real for glass of beer or lemonade, they did not seem to be making money.” F.A. Ober, Travels in Mexico and Life among the Mexicans (San Francisco: J. Dewey and Company, 1884), 566

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Sickness Unto Death: Testators and their Health

Following information about one’s parents, the testator also identified his or her

health status. Two-thirds of testators indicated they were either sick, suffered an injury, or

prone to habitual aches, whereas one-third of testators were healthy. In this regard,

testators in Monterrey were more specific than Eire’s testators in Madrid, who only stated

whether they were healthy or sick. Just over half of testators cited being sick in bed, and

another 20 percent cited being ill due to an accident that God sent them, though details

concerning the nature of the accidents tend to be in absentia. Since many testators worked

in agriculture, there were many possibilities for injury on the rugged terrain as they were

exposed to the elements and they worked with potentially unruly animals. The accidents

must have been severe enough to warrant the writing of their wills out of a fear of death.

Only 4 percent complained of habitual aches brought on due to “old age.” Just under 20

percent said they were in good health, some of these also claimed to be “advanced in

age” as well. Wills, however, do not reveal the testator’s age, and to obtain this

information, one would need to search for their birth records.220 What do these statistics

reveal about health and the writing of one’s will? Most testators made their wills for fear

of death either due to a severe illness, injury, or old age. The making of a will forced the

testator to contemplate death, plan the funeral and burial, and order one’s estate. Those

who considered themselves healthy put off making their wills for the most part.

220 This is now conveniently online. The Council of Trent formalized record keeping practices, and

the vital statistics were kept in the parish, with a copy sent to the diocese. One may locate birth, death, and marriage records for Monterrey’s “cathedral” (parish church) as far back as 1667. Furthermore, other parishes, such as Nuestra Señora del Roble, Purísima Concepción, and Sagrado Corazón date back to the nineteenth century. Mexican civil authorities began recording vital statistics in 1859. To find parish records online, visit FamilySearch, “México, Nuevo León, registros parroquiales, 1667-1981,” accessed March 22, 2016, https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-159380-55496-78?cc=1473204.

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The final piece of information included in the identification of the testator was a

stock phrase indicating that the testator was of “sound judgment, mind, and natural

understanding.” The statement logically appears prior to one’s confession and burial

bequests. Testamentary capacity, or the testator’s declaration to be in sound mind and

memory, was essential for the legality and legitimacy of the will. This statement provided

a safety net against testators who might be coerced into doing something against their

own will or those who might suffer from mental illness, leading them to make incoherent

decisions. Declaring that one was sound of mind and memory was thus a common but

necessary phrase included in the standard outline for colonial Mexican testaments as

much as the opening prayer which begins the testament.221 Additionally, Spanish law

maintained a number of other requirements incumbent on those seeking to make a will.

Male testators had to be aged 14 or older while female testators had to be 12 or older. If

testators were blind or deaf, they had to be able to sign their names. Furthermore, they

were not permitted to make a will if they were sentenced to death.222 At the conclusion of

the will, the notary or scribe made a similar statement in the third person, attesting to the

testator’s capacity to make a will. The preparer of the will upheld public faith by attesting

to know or recognize the testator and observe the testator as being in sound judgment and

full memory.

221 There were only a few variations concerning the opening prayer, but the larger point is that the

will opens with a prayer to signal its status as a religious document intended to aid the testator on the “path to salvation.”

222 These requirements were also for those seeking to contract a chaplaincy. Gisela von Wobeser, Vida eterna y preocupaciones terrenales: las capellanías de misas en la Nueva España, 1700-1821 (México, DF: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1999), 63. Although 18 is the age of majority in moden Spain, the Civil Code still maintains age 14 as the legal age to get married, make a will, begin the process for Spanish nationality, or be a witness. Teresa Rodríguez de las Heras Ballell, Introduction to Spanish Private Law: Facing the Social and Economic Challenges (London and New York: Routledge, 2010), 35.

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The Profession of Faith

Sick in bed with “an illness that our God the Lord has seen fit to give,” Juan

Guerra Cañamar proceeded with his last will and testament one the eve of All Saint’s

Day 1718. After declaring his sanity in the areas of judgment, mind, will, and

understanding yet fearful of his impending death, he offered a statement of his faith in

traditional creedal language:

I believe in the ineffable mystery of the most holy Trinity, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, three distinct persons and one true God and placing as my intercessors the most holy Virgin Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patriarch St. Joseph, St. John the Baptist, and my father St. Francis, my devotions so they may pray to God for me and that my soul is saved. I order and make my testament in the following form and way. . . .223

For Eire, the “preamble” in the sixteenth-century wills from Madrid generally consisted

of four parts, including the testator’s (1) supplication to God, (2) meditation on death, (3)

meditation on judgment, and (4) profession of faith, though the content and length vary

considerably.224 Like colonial Mexico City, in Monterrey the will’s invocation functioned

as a means of supplication to God without the need of a separate statement. A testator’s

mediation on death and judgment usually amounted to an often used expression: “and

fearing death which is a natural thing for all living creatures and its uncertain hour.”225

One’s meditation on death attempted to convey the seriousness and nearness of the reality

of death and further implied impending judgment. Larkin comments, “Because death is

inevitable, the proper attitude toward it is Christian resignation to God’s will. Resignation

223 AHM, Testamento de Juan Guerra Cañamar, 31 Octubre 1718, Prot., vol. 14, f. 194, no. 75. 224 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 67-86. 225 The phrase was employed by notaries and drafstpersons nearly universally. AHM, Testamento

de Salvador Canales, 9 Diciembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, f. 135 vto., no. 61.

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did not mean unpreparedness. Because the hour was uncertain, the good Christian was to

ponder death frequently and continually prepare for judgment.”226 The space allowed for

the profession of faith ranges from scribes who appear to have written a one statement

bare minimum to others exceeding a couple of pages with theological declarations that

rival the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed.

The profession of faith confirms the testator’s authenticity as a member of the

church and signals theological orthodoxy and obedience in practice. The profession

closely resembles the Confiteor, Latin for “I confess.” The Confiteor was one of the

prayers said during the penitential act at the beginning of the Tridentine Mass, so it would

have been quite familiar with testators who regularly attended mass. Ariès explained that

the “declaration of faith, which paraphrases the Confiteor and calls upon the celestial

court as it gathers at the bedside of the dying man, in his bedroom, or in the cosmic

heavens at the end of the world.”227 The form and number of saints invoked varied in the

Middle Ages, but generally the confession was directed to God Almighty (Deo

omnipotenti) as well as the saints. In some late medieval versions, Mary and Peter are

specifically mentioned.228 In colonial Monterrey, testators appealed to God first. They

invoked each person of the Trinity or made a statement concerning the “ineffable mystery

of the Holy Trinity.” Another theological statement that appears in the confession is “the

incarnation of the Divine Word,” referencing Jesus’s incarnation and appropriately used

to segue into the connection between God the Son and his mother.

226 Larkin, The Very Nature of God, 239. 227 Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 189. 228 For example, the missal of Pope Paul III, the pope who convened the Council of Trent in 1545,

addresses the ever Virgin Mary and Peter by name.

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Baroque testators were not alone when they dictated their wills. The priest

administered last rites, the notary wrote the will, the witnesses signed the will, and the

testator’s family remained close ideally. Testators also believed that their souls would

soon be judged by God. The imagery of God on his throne in the celestial court is

ancient. The ancient Israelites depicted God as king surrounded by his heavenly host, and

the New Testament adapted this imagery, placing Jesus at the “right hand of the

Father.”229 The church borrowed and refashioned much of the idea from the Bible and

over time Europeans reimagined the celestial court to reflect their earthly courts. The

concept of purgatory accompanied the belief in personal judgment upon death, and the

judgment scene featured God, Jesus, and a host of angels and saints surrounding the soul.

The convergence of the holy and unholy, the sacred and the profane, meant that only the

truly pious would experience the beatific vision. Since most souls failed to meet such a

high standard yet they also participated in the church’s rituals and merited grace,

theologians reasoned that they did not deserve eternal punishment in hell. Rather, the

theological elite opted for a sort of tertium quid, a place not quite as luxurious as heaven

nor as torturous as hell. Most souls seemed destined for time in purgatory to purge their

souls before entering into heaven.

The cult of the saints, generally, and the Marian cult, specifically, played a

prominent role in baroque Catholicism. Catholic theology teaches that Mary and the

229 For example, the Royal Psalms, especially Psalms 93-99, promote the kingship of YHWH who

reigns from on high. The New Testament further promotes this idea, especially in the Books of Hebrews and the Apocalypse, or the Book of Revelation.

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saints pray for the church on earth.230 Testators throughout the eighteenth century sought

patronage in this life and the afterlife by sponsoring feasts in honor of their patron saints

and contributed material objects to their intercessors, those saints who offered up prayers

to God in heaven.231 The most predominant intercessor in the testaments was the Virgin

Mary and the second most frequently mentioned saint was her husband, St. Joseph (Table

3). In my sample testaments, all testators who named their intercessors called upon the

Virgin. This represents 80 percent of testators in my sample, with 20 percent not

indicating any intercessor. Additionally, the Virgin is always listed as the first

intercessor, indicating her exalted status among intercessors. Of the testators who called

upon intercessors, 63 percent also included St. Joseph, representing 50 percent of total

testators in my sample. When St. Joseph appears, his name follows the Virgin and he is

described in terms of his relationship to her, generally as her faithful or chaste (castísimo)

husband.

A little less than half of testators identified their name saints and their guardian

angels as intercessors. These saints generally appear together in the wills, though slightly

more testators identified their guardian angels as intercessors rather than their name

saints. One medieval practice that continued was the practice of naming the child after

the saint of the day based on the day of their child’s baptism. Saint’s days derive from the

230 Saintly intercession involves asking the saint for prayer (ora pro nobis) or asking for a special

request or miracle. Early Protestants unequivocally rejected the second type of intercessory prayer. Consider the modern example of asking Saint Joseph for help in selling a home by burying his statue upside down and the contested views concerning such a practice held by American Catholics in Kristy Nabhan-Warren, “‘St. Joseph, Please Sell My Home’: Considering Positionality and a More Relevant Catholic Studies,” American Catholic Studies 122, no. 1 (2011): 28-32.

231 Traditional Catholic interpretation of the Book of Revelation has been used to support this position. For example, Revelation 8:3-4 says, “Another angel with a golden censer came and stood at the altar; he was given a great quantity of incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar that is before the throne. And the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel.”

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early church’s celebration of the saint’s “birthday,” that is, the day of his or her

martyrdom and “birth” (dies natalis) into heaven.232 Another practice, as evident on the

table below, is the practice of naming children after important patron saints of the region.

María, Joseph/José, Francisco/a, Miguel, Juan/a, and Antonio/a often appear as the first

or second name for testators and their children. The naming of a child after a saint

represents an important devotional practice that signals a life-long trigger to remember

one’s saint. For this reason, the consistory in Protestant Geneva forbade the practice of

naming children after saints altogether, and the 1546 Ecclesiastical Ordinances for rural

Reformed congregations called upon parents to avoid naming their children after saints or

pagans to avoid superstition and idolatry.233 Post-Tridentine Catholics remained steadfast

and continued to honor the saints by naming their children after them. In colonial

Monterrey, over half (56 percent) of testators named their children after Mary or Joseph,

yet when the data are disaggregated, the number jumps to 73 percent during the years

1777 to 1810.234 Sixty-two percent of girls were named after Mary, yet during the years

1777 to 1810 the number skyrockets to 82 percent. For boys, 31 percent were named after

Joseph, with 33 percent from 1777 to 1810. As for the names of testators themselves, 35

percent of male and female testators were named after Joseph and 16 percent were named

232 Origen of Alexandria famously argued that only sinners, not saints, celebrated the days they

were born in Scripture (Origen, Homily on Leviticus 8 in Migne, P.G. XII, 495). 233 There were a number of intrusive practices ushered in by the consistory, or city council, in an

effort to regulate conduct and discipline, the so-called third mark of the Church. Raymond Mentzer comments, “For the [Reformed] churches, discipline and order went, of course, directly to the task of ‘reforming’ the faithful and reestablishing the purity of the church that Christ had established on this earth.” Raymond A. Mentzer, “Church Discipline and Order,” in T&T Clark Companion to Reformation Theology, ed. David M. Whitford (New York: T&T Clark International, 2012), 229. Protestant leaders also forbade a host of late medieval practices, such as postmortem baptisms, baptisms by midwives, saying prayers to the saints, and matriculation into Catholic schools. See Jeffrey R. Watt, “Calvinism, Childhood, and Education: The Evidence from the Genevan Consistory,” Sixteenth Century Journal 33, no. 2 (2002): 439-456.

234 The caveat is that this percentage is dependent on what scribes recorded in the wills. It is possible that some of the increase results from scribes recording the first two given names more frequently during the latter half of the century when compared to the first half.

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after Mary. Only 4 percent were named after Mary from 1700-1776, whereas the

percentage increases to 28 percent after 1777. The data indicate that more parents named

their children after the Virgin Mary over time and strongly suggest this as an important

cultural and religious practice expressing devotion and honor to the Virgen as patroness.

As for Spanish surnames, the Council of Trent’s mandate to use vertically transmitted

surnames in parish birth and marriage records contributed to the standard practice of

paternal and maternal surnames. Furthermore, the Spanish Inquisition also contributed to

the castillanization and normalization of surnames through its insistence on religious

orthodoxy.235

Name of Saint/Intercessor Percent in Sample Wills The Virgin Mary 80% St. Joseph 55% Guardian Angel 46% Name Saint 41% All Saints of the Heavenly Court 33% Saints of My Devotion 20% No Intercessor 20% St. Francis 7% St. Michael the Archangel 7% St. John 6% St. Anthony 4%

Table 3: Percent of Saints as Intercessors, 1700-1810

When the data are disaggregated to compare and contrast two eras, 1700 to 1776,

the era before the establishment of the Diocese of Linares/Monterrey, and 1777 to 1810

(Table 4), the era after the establishment of the Diocese of Linares/Monterrey, there are

235 See Roberto Rodríguez Díaz, Franz Manni, and María José Blanco-Villegas, “Footprints of

Middle Ages Kingdoms Are Still Visible in the Contemporary Surname Structure of Spain,” PLoS ONE 10, no. 4 (2015), accessed February 24, 2017, doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0121472.

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three observations to make. First, there is great continuity in the naming of particular

saints as intercessors in the testaments, for example, the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph, and

the percentage of testaments without intercessors. Secondly, there is a significant uptick

in the percentage of testators who named their guardian angels and the saints of their

names. Lastly, testators from 1777 to 1810 were twice as likely to name “all the saints of

the heavenly court” or “the saints of my devotion” as personal intercessors. An even

closer inspection of the data reveals that testators called upon all of the saints of the

heavenly court and their guardian angels most predominantly in the 1750s onward. What

factors led testators to name all of the saints, the saints of their devotion, their guardian

angels, and the saints of their names at much higher rates during the second half of the

eighteenth century? Could the change in data simply be the result of testamentary

practices by notaries or guidelines set out in notarial books?

Unfortunately, identifying the direct causes for the change is difficult to pinpoint

given the primary sources I have been able to collect. However, I think the sample data of

wills suggest two important points: (1) testators and their scribes record an awareness to

name on official paper specific intercessors who would provide assistance to the testators

when they faced their individual judgements upon death, and (2) testators and scribes

held the intercessory work of the Virgin Mary in high regard. Although wills tell us very

little about the devotional relationship between testator and intercessor in the preamble of

the testament, testators honored their intercessors by naming their children after them,

and they requested masses to be said on their feast days as evident in the second half of

the will. For now, let us turn our attention to the second point mentioned above, the role

of the Virgin.

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Name of Saint/Intercessor Percent in Sample Wills, 1700-1776

Percent in Sample Wills, 1777-1810

The Virgin Mary 82% 78% St. Joseph 56% 54% Guardian Angel 30% 62% Name Saint 20% 70% All Saints of the Heavenly Court 22% 44% Saints of My Devotion 12% 28% No Intercessors 18% 22% St. Francis 6% 8% St. Michael the Archangel 10% 4% St. John 4% 8% St. Anthony 6% 2%

Table 4: Percent of Saints as Intercessors, 1700-1776 and 1777-1810

Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe

Since at least the fifth century, the veneration of the Virgin Mary has been a

significant practice within Christianity, though the Theotokos prayer indicates that some

Christians venerated the Virgin earlier.236 Early Marian studies were primarily from a

doctrinal point of view, yet Marian veneration developed over time and increasingly

focused on images of the Virgin.237 Victor and Edith Turner made the following

observation concerning Marian veneration and images:

Miraculous images have been the impetus for the establishment of shrines of varying denominational identification, such as the shrine of the Black Madonna at Czestochowa, Poland, where the Virgin has reputedly performed healing miracles and defended Czestochowa against invasion. The veneration of Our Lady of

236 The oldest extant prayer to the Theotokos, “God-bearer” title for the Mother of God, dates to

the third or the fourth century. Lines 4-9 of the prayer states, “Beneath your compassion, we take refuge, O Mother of God; do not despise our petitions in time of trouble, but deliver us from dangers, only pure one, only blessed one.” John Rylands Papyrus 470.

237 For more on the origins of the Marian cult, see Averil Cameron, “The Cult of the Virgin in Late Antiquity: Religious Development and Myth-Making,” in The Church and Mary: Papers Read at the 2001 Summer Meeting and the 2002 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society, ed. R. N. Swanson (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2004), 4.

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Guadalupe derives from the peasant Juan Diego’s experience of a Marian vision in Guadalupe, Mexico in 1531. Due to Mary’s elevated status and great spiritual power, Marian pilgrimage has generally been more popular than pilgrimage to shrines of other saints, but the Reformation saw a decline in pilgrims to many European shrines. However, modern Catholic Marian devotion and pilgrimage was revitalised decisively after the five visions of the novice Catherine Laboure in Paris in 1830.238

Specific Marian apparitions and enduring images paved the way for later shrines and

pilgrimages as the faithful flocked to receive a miracle.239 As we have already

established, the Virgin was the most important and significant intercessor for colonial

Catholics in Monterrey. Despite the proclamation of the Virgin of Guadalupe as the

patroness of Mexico, only a paltry 3 percent of testators specifically refer to her with the

Guadalupan title in their confessions, ranging from 1718 to 1798. Five percent of

testators gave charitable gifts to the Virgin of Guadalupe. Another testator, Felipe

Santiago Gómez, honored the Virgin by naming one of his two daughters after her, María

Guadalupe. Testators preferred to call upon the protective powers of the Virgin with “Our

Lady the Virgin Mary,” “the Queen of the Heavens,” and “the Forever Virgin Mary

Mother of God.” These titles of the Virgin were commonly used. In fact, all three titles

appear in the preface of Luis Laso de la Vega’s 1649 tract on the Virgin of Guadalupe. In

one of the rare mentions of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the introduction of a will, José

Antonio Lozano’s 1798 will calls upon “my intercessor and advocate the Most Holy

Virgin of Guadalupe the Universal Patron of New Spain, Mother of God, and Our Lady”

238 Victor Turner and Edith Turner, Image and Pilgrimage in Christian Culture: Anthropological

Perspectives (New York: Columbia University Press, 1978), 148. For more on shrines and miracles in Europe, see Craig E. Harline, Miracles at Jesus Oak: Histories of the Supernatural in Reformation Europe (New York: Doubleday, 2003).

239 See Von Greyerz, Religion and Culture in Early Modern Europe, 1500-1800, 46.

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in addition to a host of others—my holy guardian angel, the saints of my name and

devotion, and all of the other male and female saints of the heavenly court—“to pray to

God our Lord for my dear soul. . . .”240 Although there are other places in the testaments

where the Virgin of Guadalupe appears, such as pious bequests made in her honor, why

are there so few references to the Virgin of Guadalupe, the patroness of New Spain? To

answer this question, we now turn to the legend of the Virgin’s apparition to Juan Diego

and its later reception.

The core assertion in the apparition of the Virgin of Guadalupe is that between 9

and 12 December 1531 the Virgin Mary appeared to an indigenous peasant named Juan

Diego. The legend states that she asked him to appear before Bishop Juan de Zumárraga

to request the building of a church in her honor at the Guadalupe, the ancient site of

Tepeyac where the Aztecs had worshiped the mother goddess Tonantzin.241 The local

clergy were initially skeptical of Juan Diego’s claim. The bishop eventually saw Juan

Diego, but he insisted on seeing evidence of the apparition. The Virgin led Juan Diego to

a field of roses from which he picked and took some to the bishop. As he opened his

tilma (cloak) to retrieve the roses, the Virgin’s image revealed itself on the tilma’s fabric.

In what appears as a hybrid between the Queen Mother with its origin in the woman of

Revelation 12 and an indigenous young lady, the stunning, colorful depiction remains the

240 AHM, Testamento de José Antonio Lozano, 17 Noviembre 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 96,

no. 42. 241 Positive historians argue that because there is no textual evidence in Zumárraga’s writings

supporting Juan Diego’s appeal, one cannot even be certain that Juan Diego historically existed. Although earlier scholars like Richard E. Greenleaf have concluded that Zumárraga was a contradictory figure who was both the protector and inquisitor of the indigenous peoples, Victoria Ríos Castaño has recently challenged this assertion by presented more of a nuanced bishop who protected the indigenous underclass by attacking indigenous leaders who physically exploited and spiritually debased them. See Victoria Ríos Castaño, “Not a Man of Contradiction: Zumárraga as Protector and Inquisitor of the Indigenous People of Central Mexico,” Hispanic Research Journal 13, no. 1 (2012): 26-40.

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most enduring image of Mexico. The story concludes by purporting that Juan Diego lived

as a hermit for the rest of his life at the chapel built for the Virgin at Guadalupe. The

narrative appears fairly straightforward. The priests and bishops were cast as skeptics,

and the indigenous man was the faithful servant.

It is striking to note that the Bourbon attack on baroque practices followed so

closely a period in which the Mexican church and the crown worked together. The

devastating plague of 1736-1737, which killed thousands in Mexico City, led to the

promotion of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe as the city’s patroness. By 1747, Mexican

bishops proclaimed the Virgin of Tepeyac as the universal patron of New Spain

following a long campaign by creole clergy who encouraged veneration of her image.

David Brading sees a threefold significance to the Marian cult:

The narrative of the apparition and the patronage conferred by the preservation of the imprinted image was interpreted by the Creole elite within the clergy as providing the Mexican Church with a heavenly foundation quite distinct from and superior to the spiritual conquest so exultantly celebrated by Franciscan missionaries from the Peninsula. It was owing to the intercession of the Virgin Mary that paganism was so rapidly eradicated from New Spain. Far from constituting a missionary extension of Europe, the Mexican Church took its start from the apparition at Tepeyac. At the same time, veneration for an image, where the Virgin Mary is depicted as an Indian or mestiza, united the Creole clergy and Indian masses in a common devotion . . . Finally, the cult served to exalt the primacy of Mexico City and its Archbishop, and to unite the entire country under a common patron. In all the cathedral cities and provincial capitals of New Spain, chapels and altars were raised in honor of the Guadalupe, and in many places a sanctuary was built on the outskirts of the town connected by a pilgrim highway, in direct emulation of the relation between Mexico and Tepeyac. Here, then, we encounter both a foundation myth and a popular cult, which aroused devotion which was both patriotic and religious, the very symbol of a Church that was Creole and Indian.242

242 Brading, “Tridentine Catholicism and Enlightened Despotism in Bourbon Mexico,” 3-4.

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In her examination of Marian texts in late antiquity, Averil Cameron has found

that “some of the ‘evidence’ . . . at least the written evidence, turns out to consist of a

tangle of later legend passing for history.”243 Perhaps no one has written as extensively

on the Virgin of Guadalupe and also has opposed the canonization of Juan Diego as

vociferously as historian Stafford Poole.244 Poole largely bases his position on the cult’s

limited sphere of influence and a lack of indigenous devotion in the sixteenth century.

Furthermore, by the seventeenth century Guadalupan literature was largely written from a

European rather than an indigenous point of view. However, Poole’s stance has not been

without critics.245 In one of the earliest sources for the apparition, Poole’s describes

Imagen de la Virgen María, written by the Mexican priest Miguel Sanchez in 1648, as

“florid . . . typical of the Baroque, filled with exaggerated conceits and contorted figures

of speech,” and the 1649 Nican Mopohua account of the apparition as “a somewhat

indifferent account in Nahuatl (Aztec), with Indians as the intended audience.”246 Views

concerning the Virgin of Guadalupe were hotly disputed throughout the seventeenth and

eighteenth centuries. William Taylor echoes Cameron’s sentiments on early Marian

stories by stating:

The many writings on the colonial cult of Guadalupe have been absorbed in authenticating or refuting the apparition legend or studying her image as the central theme of the history of Mexican national consciousness. Firm evidence of

243 Cameron, “The Cult of the Virgin in Late Antiquity,” 1. 244 Among Poole’s most notable works on the subject include Our Lady of Guadalupe: The

Origins and Sources of a Mexican National Symbol, 1531–1797 (1995), The Guadalupan Controversies in Mexico (2006), and “Did Juan Diego Exist? Questions on the Eve of Canonisation,” Commonweal 129 (2002). Also, Lisa Sousa, Stafford Poole, and James Lockhart, eds. and trans., The Story of Guadalupe: Luis Laso de la Vega’s Huei tlamahuiçoltica of 1649 (1998).

245 For example, Timothy Matovina describes Poole as a “positive historian” who demands that theologians seek historical evidence. Even if contemporary documents existed regarding the apparition, they were hardly prove the miraculous event did in fact occur. See Timothy Matovina, “A Response to Stafford Poole,” Catholic Historical Review 100, no. 2 (2014): 284-291.

246 Stafford Poole, The Guadalupan Controversies in Mexico (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2006), 3.

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the tradition in the 16th century is scarce, and there is debate over whether the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe venerated at Tepeyac at that time was a replica of the Spanish image—a sculpted Madonna and child—or the famous American painting of the Virgin. Most of the writers separate into two groups, apparitionists and anti-apparitionists.247

Regardless of the debate surrounding the historicity of the origin story and the

apparent lack of adequate early source material, both sides of the argument agree that the

Virgin of Guadalupe became a dominant symbol of criollo patriotism. Guadalupanismo

emerged in the early eighteenth century in response to the epidemic of 1737, whereby

Archbishop-Viceroy Juan Antonio de Vizarrón y Eguiarreta declared Our Lady of

Guadalupe patroness of Mexico City and New Spain. His campaign once again renewed

the call for papal recognition Our Lady of Guadalupe. By 1754, Pope Benedict XIV

recognized Our Lady of Guadalupe as the patroness of New Spain. William Taylor

describes the growth of guadalupanismo:

By just about any measure a historian can summon, the devotion seems to have grown as never before after 1754. Great celebrations of thanksgiving were ordered and undertaken in the cities of the viceroyalty after the bull was published in America in 1756. (This was the beginning of annual December 12 celebrations in much of the territory of modern Mexico.) Soon every diocesan capital had a shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe, and many other towns received licenses to construct their own church or resplendent altar to Guadalupe.248

247 William B. Taylor, “The Virgin of Guadalupe in New Spain: An Inquiry into the Social History

of Marian Devotion,” American Ethnologist 14, no. 1 (1987): 10. 248 Taylor says that the Catálogo de Ilustraciones in the Archivo General de la Nación names 236

shrines dedicated to Guadalupe between the years 1651 and 1808. William B. Taylor, “Meeting Our Lady of Guadalupe in Eighteenth-Century Mexico,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 34 (2007): 130.

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For creoles seeking independence from Spain, the Virgin’s appearance to an indigenous

nonentity suggested divine favor upon Mexico and offered a distinctive sense of election.

Perhaps the apparent lack of attention given to the Virgin of Guadalupe in the

wills from Monterrey reflects the still relatively early move at promoting the Virgin of

Guadalupe as a national cult. Progressive ideas from Mexico City were slow to spread to

the northeast frontier. After all, Monterrey did not even obtain its first printing press until

the early nineteenth century.249 Baroque Catholicism promoted beliefs and practices that

accepted the presence of the sacred through ritual within church building and through

ritual outside of it. Although the cult of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe has been pervasive

throughout Mexico since the eighteenth century, there are many lesser known apparitions

and miracles associated with the Virgin throughout villages and cities across Mexico.

Monterrey’s distance from other colonial centers coupled with its own rich local culture

favored the Virgin’s regional patroness, Nuestra Señora del Roble. Even though testators

preferred to use simply “most holy Virgin” or some derivation when addressing the

Virgin as intercessor within their professions of faith, the cult of Nuestra Señora del

Roble accounts for nearly 30 percent of the charitable gifts given to the Virgin.

Nuestra Señora del Roble

In 1591, the Spanish crown recruited more than 400 Tlaxcalan families and single

men to move into northeastern Mexico in an attempt to pacify the indigenous peoples of

the area whom the Spanish referred to as “índios bárbaros” or “Chichemeca” as they were

249 For more, see Lota M. Spell, “Samuel Bangs, Impresor Pionero en México y Texas,”

Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 7 (1966): 441-451.

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referred to as by the Nahua. A number of families settled in a village dedicated to Nuestra

Señora de Guadalupe, a short distance from Monterrey.250 The Tlaxcalans brought with

them their own popular religious traditions, especially concerning Virgin. The Tlaxcalans

were familiar with the 1541 Marian apparition to Juan Diego Bernardino, known as

Nuestra Señora de Ocotlán. According to this apparition story, the Virgin revealed the

location of a statue depicting her image in a pine grove to Juan Diego Bernardino.

Franciscan missionaries later placed the statue in the church of San Lorenzo for

veneration. In Monterrey, Nuestra Señora del Roble (Our Lady of the Oak), also known

as Nuestra Señora del Nogal (Our Lady of the Walnut Tree), became the dominant

apparition of the Virgin.251 Joseph Kroger and Patrizia Granziera explain that for

indigenous peoples:

trees were metaphors for parents and wise rulers who provided shelter for their children and subjects. Christian missionaries associated this image of the tree with Mary and the saints . . . it is not surprising to find that some of the most venerated images of Mary in Mexico appeared in trees or roots of trees. Our Lady of the Burning Ocote in Tlaxcala, Our Lady of the Oak in Monterrey, Our Lady of the

250 José Eleuterio González described the village’s access to water: “Por la parte del Norte, donde

termina la calle que sale del convento de Nuestro Padre San Francisco, está un venero abundante que se forma un río que riega el pueblo de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, de indios tlaxcaltecos, distante una legua de esta ciudad, y corre á la villa de San Juan de Cedereita.” José Eleuterio González, Colección de noticias y documentos para la historia del estado de Nuevo León (Monterrey: Antonio Mier, 1867), 97-98.

251 William Taylor introduces audiences to a miracle surrounding Our Lady of the Walnut Tree as recorded by the local public notary, Joseph Ygnacio Treviño. The story centers on Doña María Larralde, an elderly woman, who recovered from an illness after she made vows to an image of Nuestra Señora del Nogal in 1758 and how the story gradually became accepted by church officials. Concerning the name change from Nogal to Roble, Taylor writes, “The name change seems less mysterious. Oak trees had a special appeal as sites of miracles, as William Christian has noticed for Spain since early modern times. ‘Apple trees and blackberry bushes quickly were abandoned (as ‘the’ vision site) for oak trees.’” Joseph Ygnacio Treviño, “Summary investigation concerning the marvel that Our Lady of the Walnut Tree worked for Doña María Francisca Larralde, wife of Sergeant Major Don Antonio Urresti, residents of this city of Monterrey, witnessed and written down by Joseph Ygnacio Treviño, notary public of this aforementioned city (1758),” in Marvels and Miracles in Late Colonial Mexico, trans. William B. Taylor (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2011), 27.

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Root in Jacona de Plancarte, Michoacan, and Our Lady of Hool in Campeche are among the most well known.252

To understand the origins of Nuestra Señora del Roble, one must return to the land of

their Spanish ancestors.

Residents of Cenicientos, a small town in central Spain some 50 miles from

Madrid, dedicated an ermita, or shrine, to the Virgin Mary with the title “Nuestra Señora

del Roble,” sometime during the late medieval era. In mid-August of each year the

Catholic faithful of Cenicientos commemorate Nuestra Señora del Roble, recalling the

local religious tradition that emerged from the nearby woods. Aside from sharing the

same name as the Virgin of Monterrey, it has been noted that the Spanish and later

Mexican versions of the apparition are strikingly similar.253 Furthermore, José Antonio

Portillo Valadez has discovered the names of four Spaniards from Cenicientos who sailed

to New Spain during the sixteenth century, and the last names of two of these individuals,

Arroyo and Pérez, are common in northeastern Mexico.254 Therefore, it is quite plausible

that one or more of these individuals or their relatives carried the Nuestra Señora del

Roble tradition to the New World.

252 Joseph Kroger and Patrizia Granziera, Aztec Goddesses and Christian Madonnas (Burlington,

V.T.: Ashgate, 2012), 156. 253 José Antonio Portillo Valadez writes that “what happened in Spain in the sixteenth century

repeated in some way in Monterrey, in the New Kingdom of León during the beginning of the seventeenth century; of course with other people, in another time and place.” José Antonio Portillo Valadez, Nuestra Señora del Roble: Patrona de la Arquidiócesis de Monterrey y Novena de 1788 (Monterrey, NL: Fuerza Gráfica del Norte, 2009), 18.

254 Portillo Valadez, Nuestra Señora del Roble, 18-19.

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Although there is evidence that Cenicientos was occupied at least since the

Romans, little is known about town during most of the medieval era.255 According to the

Spanish legend of Nuestra Señora del Roble, sometime during the fifteenth or sixteenth

century a group of settlers arriving near a remote mountain they named “El Encinar,” or

land of beech and oak trees. One day the settlers left their camp to search for a site free of

weeds. Upon finding a better site, they moved their camp to the new site, naming it San

Esteban de la Encina, after the town’s patron saint. The name would change to

Cenicientos later most likely due to the color of granite, called “ceniciento.” However,

the mythic origin of the town’s new name clearly derives the reconquest. When the king

called upon the town to send men to fight against the Muslims, the town’s mayor pledged

to send not only 100 soldiers but “cien y cientos,” or one hundred and hundreds, of

soldiers. Afterwards, the residents of Talavera del la Reina sent an image of the Virgin of

Prado to Cenicientos to use in their religious festivals. However, upon being attacked by

the Moors, the residents of Cenicientos rushed to salvage what they could from their city

before fleeing from the scene. Just before leaving they hid the statue of the Virgin in the

hollow of an oak tree, covering it with dry leaves. Once the war was over and residents

returned to Cenicientos, they quickly discovered that they had forgotten where they

placed the Virgin. As a group of young shepherd boys watching over their flock searched

for firewood on a cold day, they found the image. After rushing to the town to make the

announcement of the discovery, the townspeople carried the image to the church for

veneration. The next morning the townspeople discovered the statue was missing from

255 See Alicia M. Canto, “La Piedra Escrita de Diana, en Cenicientos (Madrid) y la frontera

oriental de Lusitania,” Cuadernos de Prehistoria y Arqueología de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid 21 (1994): 271-296.

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the church, so they returned to the oak tree to find it. Determined to venerate the statue

properly, they once again carried the statue to the parish church. However, the

townspeople again discovered the statue missing only to be found again in the oak tree.

Several elements in the story can be found in the Mexican version of Nuestra Señora del

Roble.

According to the Mexican version, around the year 1592, one hundred years after

Columbus’ infamous voyage to the New World, a small group of Franciscans and

soldiers traveled throughout northeastern Mexico to evangelize indigenous peoples. At a

specific place, often associated with Monterrey, generally, and the site of the later

Franciscan convent, specifically, Fray Andrés de León placed a small wooden statue of

the Virgin in the hollow of an oak tree to protect the area from natural and moral evil.256

Nevertheless, the statue remained in the hollow unknown to the townspeople. Over time

Monterrey grew under the protection of the Virgin despite economic hardships and other

challenges. However, heavy rains flooded the Santa Catarina River in 1612, causing

widespread destruction to the fledgling town. Amidst the greatest natural destruction in

the town’s young history, the legend introduces an indigenous shepherd girl. Unlike Juan

Diego in the Virgin of Guadalupe the legend does not offer a formal name for the girl.

She is simply referred to as a “shepherd girl.” Not only was shepherding flocks a

common practice in northeastern Mexico thereby adding plausibility, but also a shepherd

functioned an important biblical trope.257 One afternoon while tending sheep with her

256 In one pious version the hollow provided for a “natural shrine for an image of the Virgin.” See

Joseph L. Cassidy, Mexico, Land of Mary’s Wonders (Paterson, NJ: St. Anthony Guild Press, 1958), 80-85. 257 Two of the Bible’s most popular characters were King David, a former shepherd, and Jesus of

Nazareth, who according to the Johannine gospel, self-identified as a shepherd (John 10:11). A bishop uses a crosier, or shepherd’s staff, symbolizing his pastoral function.

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faithful dog she heard her name called out from a nearby oak tree. An older version of the

story identifies it as a walnut tree. As she neared the tree, she discovered the corn-stalk

paste statue shining with a bright radiance and smelled a pleasant aroma, so she ran home

to tell her parents who shared the story with their neighbors. One version of the legend

makes the indigenous girl an active participant in the miracle story. The girl holds up the

statue towards the river in order to calm it and subside the flood waters,258 and the local

community responds by returning to the site of the hollow oak tree for veneration.

Deeming the image too precious to remain in the oak tree, they moved it into the local

church. On the following day the townspeople were startled to discover the statue missing

from the church only to discover it again in the hollow of the oak tree. Dust on her mantle

served as evidence that she walked there herself. The local community interpreted the

event as a sign to build a small altar on the site of the oak tree. The notion of the Virgin

or the saints “walking” associates their physical presence with the region.259 Their

physical presence in turn was thought to provide blessings and safety. Whenever natural

or moral tragedy strikes, however, it was met with a call to return back to proper

veneration. The object’s rejection of the local church offers a critique of the idea that

devotion must only be associated with the parish church.

Textual evidence of the apparition exists in Monterrey’s municipal archives as

early as 1635 in a document concerning the registration of a mine to Gabriel de

258 Another version has this occurring 100 years later with Antonia Teresa, a Tlaxcalan. 259 For example, “the santitos are said to walk among the houses, to travel from year to year. John

M. Ingham, Mary, Michael, and Lucifer (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1986), 96.

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Herregoitia.260 The short document, signed before Governor Martín de Zavala, only

parenthetically deals with the apparition as it ends with a plea to donate funds on the site

where “the Mother of God who appeared to a girl and the bishop ordered to build her a

chapel there.” Because the purpose of the document was to register a mine rather than

convey details concerning the apparition, the information is minimal yet insightful. There

are at least three important details conveyed in the document. Although the document

fails to mention Nuestra Señora del Nogal or Nuestra Señora del Roble, it employs an

older and broader appellation, “Mother of God,” a title for the Virgin originating early in

the eastern liturgy.261 Another significant detail concerns the girl, the one who received

the vision. Missing, though, is any hint as to her name. Lastly, the collection to build the

shrine on the site of the vision was approved by the Bishop of Guadalajara. Nevertheless,

the first shrine was most likely rather modest. In 1719, the last will and testament of

Antonia Teresa, a Tlaxcalan, offered a gift to build a new shrine of stone. For her piety,

the notary designated her as the “initiator of the Temple of the Purísima.”262 Fray

Servando Teresa de Mier, in Carta V dated circa 1817, included a report of a miraculous

event attributed to Nuestra Senora del Roble during the flood of Santa Catarina in 1756,

260 The document reads, Gabriel de Herrogoitia “minero en estas minas deste nuevo

descubrimiento de Pedro Botello de Morales, registra una mina en un cerro que corre como de oriente a poniente y le pongo por nombre a éste dicho cerro el del Diamante, en una veta que corre de norte a sur y tiene un arroyo hondo, mirando a la Descubridora, como hace a el sur y le pongo por nombre el Hormiguero, y juro a Dios y a ésta cruz + que la cateé en tierra virgen, en presencia de Francisco Lagunas, Francisco Martínez Guajardo y Juan de Bermeo, al cual tengo por la banda de abajo a mis estacas minas de San Nicolás y por la parte de arriba minas de San Cristóbal, de Martín de Gerobio. Heredan los tres citados por lo que le han dado en sus minas de San Lucas (de Guajardo) en la de la madre Luisa de la Asención, (de Lagunas) y en la de San Nicolás (de Bermeo). Otro sí hereda la Madre de Dios del reyno, la que se apareció a una niña, que mandó al señor obispo se le hiciese su capilla, y hereda el capitán Andrés de Arauna. Ante el gobernador Martín de Zavala.” AHM, Gabriel de Herregoitia registra una mina, 20 August 1635, Civil, vol. 3, exp. 23, f. 5.

261 For example, consider the early Syriac tradition’s exhortation of the Mother of God (Yoldath Alloho) in the Liturgy of Mari and Addai.

262 AHM, Testamento de Antonia Teresa, 20 Octubre 1719, Civil, vol. 44, exp. 30.

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indicating something of the cult’s significance mid-century. The building of a sanctuary

followed in 1855.263 The popularity of the cult grew as the residents faced the trials and

tribulations of flooding throughout the eighteenth century. Chapter four examines more

closely the pious gifts given in honor of the patroness of Monterrey.

Conclusion

The final part of the introduction was designated for the testator to commend his

or her soul to God and body to earth and can generally be found in the first clause or

sometimes immediately preceding it. If the commendation of one’s soul is found

preceding the first clause, then the first clause generally contains information about

burial. Most testators in my sample commended their souls to God, and over half of the

testators also commended their bodies to the earth for burial in the opening clause as

well. Many notaries also attached creedal type statements to testator’s commendation of

his/her soul. Jacinto de la Garza’s 1716 will states, “First, I commend my soul to God

Our Lord, who raised and redeemed with his most precious blood, passion, and death.”264

Joseph Miguel Lozano’s 1795 will conspicuously left out any mention of his soul in the

first clause: “Firstly, I commend my body be buried where my executors find available,

with a burial habit and solemnity according to what seems appropriate to my

executors.”265 This announcement allowed for a transition from the preamble and the

263 Today the Basílica y Parroquia La Purísima Concepción de Monterrey is located in the

downtown area, not on the original site of the shrine. 264 AHM, Testamento de Jacinto de la Garza, 17 Julio 1716, Prot., vol. 10, exp. 1, f. 258 V., no.

159. 265 AHM, Testamento de Joseph Miguel Lozano, 25 Febrero 1795, Prot., vol. 22A, exp. 55, f. 0.

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soul’s commendation to details concerning the funeral, burial, and pious bequests, the

subject of the next chapter.

This chapter has analyzed the main components of the first part of the testament

in an effort to describe the will’s function as a religious and legal document. The

seemingly mundane components serve as the will’s introduction, providing valuable

information such as the testator’s name, origin, residency, names of parents, and the

names of personal intercessors. Most testators identified as españoles, descendants of

peninsulars born in the New World, or at least looked like them.266 Their names were

often accompanied with the honorific title don or doña in over 80 percent of wills. Some

reinero testators were peninsulars and many were probably mestizos, but very few were

indigenous. Over time an increasing number of testators claimed Monterrey as their town

of origin. The identification of the testator also pointed to issues of legitimacy and

inheritance. Francisco Ortiz de Oteo’s case surrounding his natural birth brings to light

the struggle of securing one’s inheritance rights when one is legally deemed a natural

son. Although notaries and draftspersons followed a general formula, often leaving little

room for testators’ preferences, one way in which we have seen something intimate about

the testators is through their selection of personal intercessors. Colonial testators called

upon saints to defend them in the heavenly court, and the saints functioned as intercessors

between God and Christians both on heaven and earth. Although saints were venerated by

many devout reineros throughout their lives, the special intercessory role they played at

266 It is quite likely that Cheryl Martin’s observation in eighteenth-century Chihuahua is also true

of Monterrey: “Many españoles were quite likely mestizos or other racial mixtures whose physiognomies favored their European ancestors and whose social prestige enabled them to ‘pass,’ especially in a new environment where few of their neighbors might know their true antecedents.” Cheryl English Martin, Governance and Society in Colonial Mexico: Chihuahua in the Eighteenth Century (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2000), 39.

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death is announced in the will’s introduction. Although specific references to the Virgin’s

advocacy as Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe and Nuestra Señora del Roble are limited in

the will’s introduction, the presence of the Virgin as intercessor remains dominant.

Specific titles of the Virgin played a larger role in the giving of charitable gifts and other

pious works, the subject to which we now turn. The following chapter takes up the issue

of pious bequests and analyzes trends in piety over the course of the late colonial era.

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CHAPTER 3: FUNERAL AND BURIAL PIETY IN COLONIAL MONTERREY

After commending his soul to God, Juan Francisco de la Garza Falcón requested

his “poor and miserable body” to be buried in a humble place in the parish church.267

Two ways in which reinero testators sought to demonstrate their humility were by

requesting burial in the parish church and being dressed in a Franciscan habit. Leaving

his funeral and burial almost entirely up to his executors, a trend for more than half of

testators, Garza Falcón’s only funeral request was for his body to be covered in a habit of

“our father St. Francis.” Afterwards, Garza Falcón’s testament quickly moves on from his

funeral and burial to information about his first wife and his children.268 The preamble of

his will indicates that he was “sick in bed” at the time of the writing of his will. One

reason why so little is shared about his funeral and burial might very well be his illness.

Ill or injured testators confined to bed struggled to enunciate specific details pertaining to

their own funerals. The psychological toll of facing their imminent demise coupled with

their physical ailments would have provided challenges even for the best of notaries.

However, his will has 30 clauses of which four clauses were devoted to describing his

earthly possessions. He apparently was able to work through these clauses and detail his

valuables even in a feeble condition. Wills generally listed the most cherished or valuable

items; however, testators possessing considerable assets often needed a separate

inventory (inventario de bienes) that provided a thorough account of one’s

267 AHM, Testamento de Juan Francisco de la Garza Falcón, 20 [?] Enero 1785, Prot., vol. 19, f.

341, no. 168. The exact date is illegible. 268 The previous chapter has already addressed the importance of establishing legitimacy within

the community. This is especially true when a testator had multiple wives as the result of the first wife’s death and fathered children with each of them. After Garza Falcón’s first wife died, like many male testators he remarried with the second marriage producing more children.

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possessions.269 These possessions would then be sold to settle debts and pay for the

funeral and burial expenses, leaving the rest as inheritance and pious gifts. Although a

casual reading of Garza Falcón’s will seems to convey very little about his funeral and

burial, a close reading of it within the context of other eighteenth-century wills actually

says quite a bit about burial and funeral practices in colonial Monterrey.

The body of the will conveys information concerning the testator’s funeral and

burial followed by pious bequests and the distribution of assets, the subject of chapter

four. The aim of this chapter is threefold. First, I introduce the framework of local and

lived religion as an avenue to understand the religious lives of elite and ordinary

eighteenth-century Mexican Catholics. Colonial wills from Monterrey sample a range of

community members, from those who owned large haciendas to those who owned a few

sheep and goats on small plots of land. Secondly, I demonstrate how wills and parish

burial records offer powerful insights into baroque funeral and burial practices. Testators

participated in the local religious and cultural practices of the day regarding their funerals

and burials, as often expressed “como costumbre,” or “according to custom.” I analyze

the oft-cited request to be buried on sacred ground wearing a Franciscan habit, fostering

the bond between the living and the dead while promoting humility in the face of

impending judgment. Lastly, I argue that significant changes concerning piety occurred

over the course of the eighteen century. Data from wills and burial records suggest that

many reineros adhered to baroque norms of piety prior to the formation of diocese in

269 For example, AHM, Inventario de bienes por muerte de doña María de León, 9 Enero 1706,

Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 62, no. 28.

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1777. Once the Diocese of Linares was established, however, a minority of testators

moved away from traditional forms of burial piety.

Local and Lived Religion

This research project seeks to understand the religious piety of elite and ordinary

eighteenth-century Catholics in Monterrey. The framework for such a study is located in

an understanding of two broad methodologies, local and lived religion. The methodology

of local religion came to the fore with the publication of William Christian’s Local

Religion in Sixteenth-Century Spain, which sought to uncover the religious practices of

non-urban ordinary Catholics.270 Christian’s work opened up new possibilities for

scholars to take seriously the disparity between official Christianity with its emphasis on

church doctrine and importance of uniformity and a rural, local Christianity with organic

and seemingly mundane practices infused with religious meaning. However, Christian

underestimated the liturgical concerns of his interlocutors.271 More recently, Martin

Nesvig’s edited volume, Local Religion in Colonial Mexico, applies Christian’s concern

for local manifestations of religion to colonial Mexico, with articles ranging from the use

of saints to Nahua gender roles, and from the “Indian question” to the role of

confraternities during the rite of dying. Nesvig calls North American scholars to move

270 William A. Christian, Jr., Local Religion in Sixteenth-Century Spain (Princeton: Princeton

University Press, 1981). 271 I agree with Brian Larkin’s critique that William Christian underestimates the role of the

liturgy in his study of rural sixteenth-century Spanish Catholicism. Rural Catholics would have remained committed to participating in the rituals of the church, especially the mass. While Christian sees a turn to the saints for protection against nature, more emphasis could have been on the role of the saints in “death, judgment, and resurrection.” See Brian Larkin, “Confraternities and Community: The Decline of the Communal Quest for Salvation in Eighteenth-Century Mexico City,” in Local Religion in Colonial Mexico, ed. Martin Nesvig (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, 2006), 191-192.

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beyond two specific dilemmas in order to understand the nature of local religion in

colonial Mexico, a local religion that developed side by side with official Catholicism.272

The first dilemma is anticlerical positivism.273 Anticlerical positivism is the view that

mid-nineteenth century Mexican liberals opposed the church at all levels and refuses to

see ways in which the church and state cooperated together. Flowing from this is a

Whiggish version of history, which assumes that history must be forward-moving and

purposive. Applied to colonial Mexico, North American scholars of this view have seen

nineteenth- and twentieth-century secularization in Mexico as inevitable. Nesvig’s second

concern is the opposite, triumphant Catholicism. Grounded in Robert Ricard’s 1933

work, The Spiritual Conquest of Mexico, the conquest of Mexico was hailed as a spiritual

rather than a military accomplishment.274 Historians who have embraced this narrative

often view the pre-reform 1850s church as uniform and unstoppable. Nesvig’s project,

however, complicates these two views by demonstrating the great amount of diversity in

the local church throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.275 This dissertation

aims to demonstrate ways in which reinero practices aligned with and challenged local

religious traditions.

272 Martin Nesvig, “Introduction,” in Local Religion in Colonial Mexico, ed. Martin Nesvig

(Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, 2006), xviii. 273 Popularized by nineteenth-century philosopher Auguste Comte, positivism views society like

that of the physical world as one that operates according to general laws. Societies, however, rarely act as consistently as the physical laws of nature. In this view, logical, mathematical, or empirical evidence functions as legitimate or authentic knowledge, whereas intuitive knowledge does not. The positivists’ rejection of intuitive and introspective knowledge means that metaphysics and theology are no longer legitimate enterprises.

274 This perspective was popularized by Eusebius of Caesarea in the fourth century. Also, see Robert Ricard, The Spiritual Conquest of Mexico: An Essay on the Apostolate and the Evangelizing Methods of the Mendicant Orders in New Spain, 1523-1572, trans. Lesley Byrd Simpson (Berkeley & Los Angeles: University of California Press, [1933] 1966).

275 One example of this can be seen in William Taylor’s contribution to the volume, as he highlights a local priest who participated in the formation of a local religious tradition. William B. Taylor, “Between Nativitas and Mexico City: An Eighteenth-Century Pastor’s Local Religion,” in Local Religion in Colonial Mexico, ed. Martin Nesvig (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, 2006).

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Nesvig’s edited volume opens with Carlos Eire’s chapter on popular religion.

Since the late twentieth century, scholars have studied wills as an avenue to understand

“popular religion,” the religion of the people. In his study of early modern English wills,

Christopher Marsh captures the debate surrounding the utility of studying wills by

adapting a well-known proverb, “Where there’s a will, there’s a group of historians

arguing over what it tells them about popular religion.”276 Although popular religion is a

rather convoluted term, the concept behind it has a long history. Eire traces the binary

between official Christendom and popular religion all the way back to Gregory

Nazianzen’s attack on Christians who despised classical culture during the fifth

century.277 Eire recommends scholars to halt their search for a definition to popular

religion and begin defining their methodological approaches in order to measure the

boundaries of their subjects. Additionally, Brian Larkin calls for expanding the very

concept of “local religion.”278 Larkin rightly points out that Christian’s Local Religion in

Sixteenth-Century Spain focuses mainly on villagers, whereby the gap between local and

official practices is much wider than in metropolitan areas. Larkin’s view could be

expanded. My project, for example, demonstrates that metropolitan areas need not be

viewed as homogenous. Colonial Monterrey appears quite traditional in terms of piety

while at the same time it experienced subtle changes in practice forging hybridity.

276 Christopher Marsh, “‘Departing Well and Christianly:’ Will-Making and Popular Religion in

Early Modern England,” in Religion and the English People 1500-1640: New Voices New Perspectives, ed. Eric Josef Carlson (Kirksville, MO: Truman State University, 1998), 201.

277 Carlos M. N. Eire, “The Concept of Popular Religion,” in Local Religion in Colonial Mexico, ed. Martin Nesvig (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, 2006).

278 See Brian Larkin, “Liturgy, Devotion, and Religious Reform in Eighteenth-Century Mexico City,” 494.

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Many scholars came to prefer “local religion” over popular religion. Whereas

popular religion assumes a divorce between the rituals of the people and official forms of

piety, local religion is more apt to allow for hybridity between traditional and innovative

forms of piety. Whereas popular religion accepts that the religion of the masses differs

from the religion of clerics and economic elites, my study suggests most clerics in

Monterrey engaged in writing wills and practiced traditional and innovative forms of

piety just as other reineros. Therefore, the study of local religion in colonial Monterrey

allows for an investigation of the religious context in a particular geographic area without

the assumption that reineros practiced their religion how others did in New Spain.

Devotional trends in Mexico City and elsewhere in central Mexico did not necessarily

make a substantial impact immediately in Monterrey and the northern frontier. However,

this is not to suggest that what happened in Mexico City did not ultimately affect

religious practice in Monterrey. Rather, the final section in this chapter demonstrates a

noticeable decrease in the percentage of ostentatious funerals and burials, and chapter

four shows a decrease in the percentage of pious bequests over the eighteenth century.

Both the official church and the crown held considerable sway over colonial religion in

Mexico. In some cases the crown’s policies directly influenced which religious

movements gained traction and which were forced underground.279 Local religion shirks

279 For example, with the 1732 publication of Devoto culto que deve dar el Christiano a el

Sagrado Corazon de Christo Dios y Hombre by the Jesuit Juan Antonio de Mora, the Sacred Heart movement gained considerable traction; however, Charles III’s expulsion of the Jesuits from Spanish lands in 1767 dealt a major blow to the movement. After a period of stagnation, the devotion managed to thrive in nineteenth-century Mexico. Kilroy-Ewbank makes the observation that “Despite Enlightenment reformers’ concerted efforts to eliminate the Sacred Heart from Catholicism, the devotion continues today in Mexico and beyond as one of the most popular Catholic religious cults, certainly due in part to eighteenth-century artists and authors who ardently defended it with the tools of their respective trades.” See Kilroy-Ewbank, “Holy Organ or Unholy Idol? Forming a History of the Sacred Heart in New Spain,” 351.

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the tendency to universalize and generalize a particular religious tradition, yet the

methodology need not espouse exceptionalism either. Even though this project aims to

describe the religious piety of reineros, I also demonstrate similarities between reinero

testators and other testators from New Spain.

Another methodology that attempts to move scholarship beyond the study of

popular religion is lived religion, which embraces a study of both elite and non-elite

expressions of piety. Alexandra Walsham explains the backdrop as to how scholars of

social history turned their attention to ordinary people:

The cross-fertilization of history with sociology and anthropology, together with the influence of Marxist ideology in the 1950s and 60s, has had two other significant side effects. It precipitated a turn away from ecclesiastical toward social history, and from popes, bishops, priests, and ministers toward ordinary (and often eccentric and marginal) laypeople, and it encouraged a tendency to view the relationship between elite and popular culture as essentially antagonistic and adversarial.280

During the 1980s, social historians of early modern Europe began to employ the concept

of popular religion, yet the exclusive study of lay religious practices divorced from

clerical practices failed to capture the blurred lines between lay and clerical

participation.281 The tendency to think and categorize along clear binaries in the field of

280 Alexandra Walsham, “Migrations of the Holy: Explaining Religious Change in Medieval and

Early Modern Europe,” Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 44, no. 2 (2014): 258. 281 Social historians of the era drew on the methodology of new history. According to Peter Burke,

social historians and social anthropologists were partially brought together by the shared idea of cultural relativism, “the idea that reality is socially or culturally constructed.” Peter Burke, “Overture. The New History: Its Past and its Future,” in New Perspectives on Historical Writing, 2nd ed., ed. Peter Burke (University Park, PA: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2001), 3.

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religious studies has been amply noted and critiqued.282 Regardless of the binary pairing,

such as sacred/profane, official/unofficial, elite/popular, or written/oral traditions,

artificial binaries force scholars into unnecessary constructs. The sacred/profane

dichotomy has been endemic in religious studies, whose “founding fathers” were largely

influenced by Protestant thought.283 In fact, at least one scholar has boldly proclaimed

that “official” religion never actually existed.284

By the 1990s, lived religion emerged as a corrective by addressing both lay and

clerical forms of piety. Lived religion had already been part of the French sociology of

religion, where it was known as la religion vécue. Robert Orsi credits Jean Paul Sartre’s

notion of “lived experience,” which aims to locate people “everywhere where they are,”

as influential in the selection of not only the neologism but also the methodology’s

aim.285 For Orsi, lived religion is “shaped by and shapes the way family life is organized,

for instance; how the dead are buried, children disciplined, the past and present imagined,

moral boundaries established and challenged, homes constructed, maintained and

destroyed, the gods and spirits worshiped and importuned and so on.”286 Orsi maintains

282 Current scholarship has reacted strongly against binary oppositions found so prevalent in

G.W.F. Hegel and structuralist Claude Lévi-Strauss. One clear example can be found in Russell McCutcheon’s Critics, not Caretakers. McCutcheon argues, “If postmodern criticism has taught us anything, it has taught us that the authority afforded one binary pole over another is highly tentative and tactical; its seemingly self-evident authority is the result of a number of ideological and rhetorical mechanisms that, in the midst of ranking what are essential paired binaries, often pass unnoticed.” Russell McCutcheon, Critics, not Caretakers: Redescribing the Public Study of Religion (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2001), 93.

283 Reformed theologians moved away from the notion of medieval immanence of the holy towards platonic dualism, the position of Erasmus and Lefevre d’Etaples. Platonic dualism divides the world into a spiritual sphere and a material one, into the sacred and profane.

284 This is the position taken by Leonard Primiano, “Vernacular Religion and the Search for Method in Religious Folklife,” Western Folklife 54 (1995): 37-56.

285 Robert Orsi, “Everyday Miracles,” in Lived Religion in America, ed. David D. Hall (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997), 7.

286 Robert Orsi, The Madonna on 115th Street: faith and community in Italian Harlem, 1880-1950 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), xxxii.

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the influence of a scholar upon what s/he studies remains a constant; therefore, a scholar

must also recognize the habitus that informs his/her study.

In addition to Robert Orsi’s contributions to lived religion, Americanists have, in

particular, made significant advances as well. David Hall edited a seminal work, Lived

Religion in America, which brought together key contributors to employ lived religion to

a host of topics, ranging from cremation to homesteading, from baptism and Lord’s

Supper in Puritan New England to Ojibiwa hymn singing. In Holy Fairs, Leigh Eric

Schmidt employs retroactive ethnography in the same vein as Natalie Zemon Davis and

Peter Burke.287 Schmidt’s work captures the unique perspective of late medieval piety

and post-Reformation liturgical practice in an effort to tell the story of nineteenth-century

American revivals, such as Cane Ridge.288 More recently, Emma Anderson relies upon

lived religion to explore Native American religion and Catholicism and the social and

religious struggles produced from the hybridity of religious traditions.289 And Jennifer

Scheper Hughes employs lived and local religion in her diachronic study of the popular

devotions to Cristo Aparecido, a sixteenth-century image of the crucified Christ, the

287 Leigh Eric Schmidt, Holy Fairs: Scotland and the Making of American Revivalism (Grand

Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2001). 288 Such a project affords Schmidt an opportunity to take on the problematic notion of American

exceptionalism. 289 In The Betrayal of Faith, Anderson argues that the story of Pastedechouan, an Innu convert to

Catholicism, highlights the struggles of religious and social identity that early modern converts to Catholicism faced, a struggle that still resonates today. See Emma Anderson, The Betrayal of Faith: The Tragic Journey of a Colonial Native Convert (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997). In The Death and Afterlife of the North American Martyrs, Anderson analyzes the deaths of eight North American martyrs, including six priests and two lay assistants. She explores how they have been remembered over time (their “afterlives”) and the variety of interpretations associated with their deaths. The martyrs have been both blamed and praised, canonized and demonized, as individuals and groups have sought to interpret and reinterpret their lives and deaths. She concludes that native peoples are now looking for aboriginal saints and are by passing the martyrs, though they still remain popular among conservative Catholics. Emma Anderson, The Death and Afterlife of the North American Martyrs (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2013).

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earliest of its kind produced in the New World.290 Hughes’ work demonstrates that much

can be learned about local history and social identity through an intense “biography of an

object.”

This dissertation draws on local and lived religion as ways of understanding local

religious piety across the social spectrum. Generations of previous scholars have focused

exclusively on theological elites to understand religion. After all, theological elites

produced texts, which could be readily studied. The challenge of analyzing the piety of

the silent majority has always been a dearth of source material.291 When scholars of

popular religion focused on the religious practices of the masses, they inevitably

discovered that so-called elites, or church officials, also participated in “popular”

expressions of a religious tradition. Scholars of lived religion are interested in the

religious practices of a range of peoples. Although there is a disproportionate number of

wealthy businessmen and women who owned haciendas full of large and small animals

(ganado mayor y menor) and fruit trees, there is also a significant number of testators

who fall on the lower end of the economic spectrum with very few material resources.

Regardless of one’s wealth, the will provides space for testators to express cherished

wishes, and one of the most important and consistent declarations found in colonial wills

was the testator’s funeral and burial requests.

290 Jennifer Scheper Hughes, Biography of a Mexican Crucifix: Lived Religion and Local Faith

from the Conquest to the Present (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010). 291 This statement does not imply that “the silent majority” only has one kind of piety.

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The Second Part of the Will: The Funeral and Burial

At this point in our analysis of the structure of a colonial will, we have

encountered a number of key elements—demographic information, the establishment of

legitimacy within the testator’s community, the profession of faith, and requests for

saintly intercession to help the soul in purgatory. These introductory matters were

important to settle prior to determining what to do with one’s estate. Attention now turns

to specific matters of piety. I aim to demonstrate how wills can serve as useful literary

documents with powerful insights into baroque funeral and burial practices and the pious

requests associated with them. I argue that testators demonstrate their piety in wills

largely through two avenues. First, testators made requests concerning their funeral and

subsequent interment. As an extension of having a good death, testators carefully

followed cultural and religious guidelines to ensure acceptable funeral and burial

practices. Secondly, they made pious bequests for the mutual benefit of the recipient of

such requests and their own souls. Pious bequests serve as clear examples how testators

meticulously planned to bequeath immovable property and movable assets to benefit the

church and its charitable activities. In both avenues testators relied upon their established

social networks not only to ensure a proper death but also a proper funeral, burial, and

future remembrance. These pious activities in turn display the testator’s social status and

economic ability to participate in baroque practices with the community. Reineros who

requested burial inside the parish church adhered to a long-held practice.

The Christian practice of church burial seems to have arisen in the West by the

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fifth century.292 Some early western Christians believed that only the martyrs deserved a

special burial for the body upon death.293 Ordinary believers would need to wait until the

last day and final judgment to enter heaven and experience the beatific vision. Others

promoted the idea that Christian burial was essential in order participate in the

resurrection of the body.294 Many early Christians believed the relics of martyrs were

infused with extraordinary power, serving as conduits of the divine. The development of

the cult of the saints required safeguarding their relics, e.g., bones, clothing, and artifacts

of the saints.295 It is precisely at this juncture that Philippe Ariès located the desire among

Christians to be buried near the martyrs. Ariès wrote, “The primary motive for burial ad

sanctos was to obtain the protection of the martyr, not just for the physical body of the

deceased but for his whole being, on the Day of Awakening and Judgment.”296 The

ancient fear of the dead evolved into a desire to be near the dead both while alive and in

death. Many early martyrs were buried in communal cemeteries located outside of cities

and towns. To honor the deceased martyrs properly, Christians constructed martyria or

memoriae, i.e., chapels. In some cases basilicas were later constructed on site to

commemorate specific martyrs.

292 At an earlier time Christians adhered to the burial customs handed down by the Greeks and the

Romans, which relegated the dead outside of the city to keep them away from the living. Since the living feared a possible return of the dead and believed their bodies were “contaminated,” they honored them, albeit from afar.

293 Perhaps the most well-known of these is Tertullian, a third-century Carthaginian Christian, who wrote, “No one, on becoming absent from the body, is a dweller in the presence of the Lord, except by martyrdom.” Tertullian, On The Resurrection of the Flesh 43.

294 Philippe Ariès wrote, “Christian popular eschatology began by accommodating itself to the old beliefs about the earth. A great many people were convinced that on the Last Day only those individuals would arise who had received a decent burial and whose graves had not been violated. ‘He who goes unburied shall not rise from the dead.’ The fear of not rising from the dead was the Christian equivalent of the ancestral fear of dying without burial.” Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 31.

295 For the historical development of the cult of the saints, see Peter Brown, The Cult of the Saints: Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity, enlarged ed., second ed. (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2015).

296Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 33.

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The practice of burial inside the church or its hallowed grounds remained a

mainstay throughout the medieval era in Europe. The church had a tacit expectation that

all would theoretically make a will and be interred on sacred ground. In the sixteenth

century, the Spanish brought the practice of writing wills and church burial with them to

the New World. The writing of a will was linked with making one’s final confession and

a prerequisite for church burial. In her study of wills at colonial Culhuacan, S.L. Cline

observes that “Dying intestate did not pose a problem just for the potential heirs whose

inheritance was in doubt, but was a horror tantamount to dying in a state of sin.”297 In an

effort to avoid the possibility of a prolonged stay in purgatory, the indigenous peoples of

Mexico generally adhered to the norms and standards of writing wills and church burial,

though at times notaries produced preambles “riddled with errors” and content that

deviated from orthodox beliefs.298 Recognizing death to be imminent, testators charged

their souls to God, and the notarial refrain was placed on their lips, “I give my body to the

earth because from the earth it came.”299

297 Cline, Colonial Culhuacan, 1580-1600, 14.

298 For example, Lockhart has identified a number of grammatical errors, repetition of syllabus, omitted words, and incomplete sentences that appear in sixteenth-century preambles written by the Nahuas. He explained this by noting, “It gradually becomes clear to the explorer of these materials that the notaries were often bored and inattentive when writing preambles, taking the attitude many of us take today toward the fine print of contracts.” Additionally, the Culhuacan notary in 1580 understood the Trinity to refer to “just one person.” James Lockhart, The Nahuas After the Conquest: A Social and Cultural History of the Indians of Central Mexico, Sixteenth Through Eighteenth Centuries (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1992), 251, 254.

299 The phrase generally stated “y el cuerpo mando a la tierra de que fue formado” in the testaments from Monterrey. In his 1672 will, Don Gerónimo García y Guzmán from Teposcolula declared, “Secondly, I give my body to the earth, the mud.” Kevin Terraciano, “Native Expressions of Piety,” in Dead Giveaways: Indigenous Testaments of Colonial Mesoamerica and the Andes, eds. Susan Kellogg and Matthew Restall (Salt Lake City: The University of Utah Press, 1998), 137.

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Burial in the Local Church

Reineros followed the Spanish custom of burial inside the church or the

courtyard.300 The wealthy elite would have been buried either in a private chapel in the

parish church or as close to the main altar as possible. Eire comments that early modern

Madrileños considered “the closer one could be to the eucharist, the better.”301 In

northern New Spain, Gloria Fraser Giffords notes that “Burials inside churches were

reserved for congregants receiving special honor, as befitted their rank or participation in

the church’s affairs. The more expensive locations were close to the main altar, the

cheaper ones under the choir loft. Burial locations outside were also strategic, the most

desirable being those closest to the church.”302 This practice remained popular among

indigenous peoples in colonial Mexico who adopted and adapted Catholic burial

practices.303 Most reinero testators neither had access to a private chapel nor were eligible

for interment close to the main altar. Rather, they requested church burial in a particular

section or division (cuerpo) that corresponded with their status and fee they would have

been willing and able to pay.304 In colonial Monterrey about 92 percent of testators

300 Nalle writes, “In Cuenca, the remains were immediately buried inside the church in individual

or family niches.” Nalle, God in La Mancha, 184. 301 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 99. 302 Gloria Fraser Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light: The Churches of Northern New

Spain, 1530-1821 (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 2007), 70. 303 In seventeenth-century Huexotzinco, Erika Hosselkus observes, “Wealthy, influential

individuals and families tended to secure prime spots, often through generous donations to the church. Those of more modest means commonly asked for interment near specific saints’ images, the holy water font, or other church features that attracted devotees and prayers from which the deceased might vicariously benefit.” Erika R. Hosselkus, “Disposing of the Body and Aiding the Soul: Death, Dying, and Testaments in Colonial Huexotzinco,” in Native Wills from the Colonial Americas, eds. Mark Christensen and Jonathan Truitt (Salt Lake City: The University of Utah Press, 2015), 198.

304 Although I could not find any textual support, officials at Monterrey’s cathedral claim that wood floor panels were removed to deposit the remains of the deceased, maintaining a close connection with the church on earth and the deceased. Larkin confirms the practice in “Confraternities and Community,” 193.

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requested burial in their local parish church and its courtyard.305 By comparison, Martina

Will de Chaparro found that 93 percent of testators in New Mexico requested church

burial, demonstrating the widespread preference during the colonial era.306 In Monterrey,

5 percent of the sample wills do not reveal the place of burial, but the overwhelming

eighteenth-century choice would have been the local parish church or the adjoining

churchyard. Only 3 percent of testators requested burial in the Franciscan convent.307

Burial records, wills, and other historical documents reveal additional places of

burial besides the inside of the parish church, including the parish cemetery, the San

Francisco Javier (Jesuit) Church, the Franciscan convent of San Andrés, and the

Capuchin convent. The parish cemetery presumably would have been located in the

courtyard and the final resting place for the indigent who could not afford the fees

associated for burial inside the parish church. In the early eighteenth century, there was

some fluidity on where one was buried and not all of the aforementioned sites served as

burial locations at the same time. In 1702, Gerónimo López Prieto, a priest who

functioned as the scribe for the parish’s burial records, obtained land from the kingdom’s

governor, Juan Francisco de Vergara y Mendoza, for the two-fold purpose of building a

chapel dedicated to St. Francis Xavier and for establishing a college-seminary to teach

young men. Two years later, Don Francisco de Treviño gave land adjacent to the chapel

305 Most testators lived in Monterrey, so their local parish would have been in Monterrey.

However, some testators hailed from other nearby towns, like Cadereyta or Cerralvo, and they often requested burial in the parish churches of those towns rather than Monterrey. This is made plain by noting the testator’s residence regardless if the will was drawn up in Monterrey.

306 Will de Chaparro’s study focuses on the years 1750-1821. She notes that “After independence, this number fell radically, but even from 1822 through 1850 fully 42 percent of testators requested church burials, and only 18 percent requested a cemetery burial. The remainder left the decision up to their heirs (9 percent) or made no mention of burial location at all (21 percent), the latter being the most significant departure from the past.” Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 164-165.

307 Although my focus is on eighteenth-century wills, I have noticed a number of seventeenth-century wills with testators who requested burial in the Franciscan convent.

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in order to bury the dead. Due to a recent fire in the Franciscan convent and the

deterioration of the parish church, reineros not only were buried in the cemetery of San

Francisco Javier, but also celebrated the sacraments and feasts there as well for the better

part of a decade. Burial records indicate no ethnic restriction on interment in the Church

of San Francisco Javier—españoles, mestizos, coyotes, and indios were all buried there.

By 1717, Gerónimo López Prieto resumed recording burials in the parish church. A 1720

poder reveals that even though General Francisco Báez Treviño, a former governor and

alcalde ordinario of Monterrey, was buried in the parish church, his wife, Doña Catalina

de Treviño y Maya, elected burial in the Jesuit church of the Colegio de San Francisco

Javier.”308 Interment with family members seems to have been a key factor in

determining burial location for most who could afford such a luxury. Testators who

requested burial next to family members specify exactly who it was they want to be

buried near, whether it be a deceased parent, spouse, or child.

A few testators requested burial in one location and then asked for their physical

remains to be transferred to another location in the future.309 One such case is Doña

Anastasia Cantú, who described herself as a “natural de este reino” and a resident of the

“frontera de San Cristóbal” (Hualahuises) in a 1704 document expressing her funeral

arrangements.310 She claimed the church in San Cristóbal had a roof with supporting

beams (iglesia de terrado y vigas). The superior structure does not appear to have been

the sole reason for her choice. She specifically requested interment in the part where

308 AHM, Se confiere poder legal (mutuo), 23 Febrero 1720, Prot., vol. 11, exp. 119, f. 34. 309 This practice somewhat resembles the ancient Jewish practice of moving the bones of the

deceased into an ossuary one year after death. It has long been suggested that reineros maintained a number of Jewish aspects in their culture. For more on the ancient Jewish practice, see Eric Meyers, Jewish Ossuaries: Reburial and Rebirth (Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1971).

310 AHM, S/disposiciones funerarias, 30 Abril 1704, Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 6, no. 2.

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María Cantú, her only daughter whom she had with her first husband, was buried.

Afterwards, she asked that her bones and those of her daughter would be transferred to

the Franciscan convent in Monterrey, specifically to the altar of Nuestra Señora de la

Soledad de la Orden Tercera. Anastasia Cantú’s preference to be buried at the church of

her residence reflects both the custom of quick burial after death and desire to be interred

next to close family members. However, her desire to transfer her remains and those of

her daughter to Monterrey reflects a deep devotion to Our Lady of Solitude, who

epitomizes the last of the seven sorrows of the Virgin at the death of Jesus, and is

associated with Nuestra Señora de Dolores, the patron saint of San Cristóbal.

Additionally, she was most likely a member in the Third Order of Franciscans given her

request. The transference of bones probably would have taken place one year after her

death, a time commemorated by the celebration of memorial masses.

By 1753, the Franciscan convent of San Andrés was rebuilt. The durable structure

made from limestone (tepetate) continued to function as a burial place. In her 1755 poder,

Doña Leonor García de Pruneda, a woman who married late in life and then found herself

quickly widowed, requested burial in the tomb of her mother in the Franciscan

convent.311 The Franciscan convent was not the only convent used for burial, however.

When the smallpox epidemic broke out in the summer of 1798, 22 corpses were buried in

the recently constructed Capuchin convent, whereas only one body was buried in the

Franciscan convent.312 The convent of the Capuchin Poor Clares, a religious order that

311 AHM, Se confiere poder a Manuel Fernández Riancho Villegas para testar, 4 Septiembre 1755,

Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 332, no. 149. 312 Total deaths spiked almost 225 percent in 1798 due to smallpox. In 1797, there were 84 deaths

compared to 186 in 1798. The increase in the amount of dead bodies and fear of contagion impacted where the dead were buried.

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belonged to the second order of Franciscans, remained vacant, explaining why it served

as an ideal place to bury the contagious corpses.313 Despite these examples of burial in

convents, testators overwhelmingly favored burial in their local parish.

There were at least three reasons for burial in the local church. First, reinero

testators belonged to the local church, later cathedral, the place where they would have

received the sacraments and celebrated feast days dedicated to the saints. Their family

members who remained in Monterrey solidified a bond with the community. The local

parish consisted of community members whom they would have known and engaged in

business and trade with throughout the year. Because of this established relationship the

community would have been more invested in the well-being of testators in the afterlife.

Burial records distinguish between a local community member and a forastero/a, a

foreigner. Secondly, cultural burial practices dictated burial generally the day of death or

one day later depending on the time of death.314 Immediately after the death of a loved

one family members and close friends often participated in an all-night vigil to mourn

and pray for the deceased. Family members remained with the body of the deceased,

313 The Capuchins never occupied the site; however, and it later became a temporary cemetery,

jail, and barracks during the Mexican-American War. Juan Manuel Casas García and Víctor Alejandro Cavazos Pérez, Panteones de El Carmen y Dolores: Patrimonio Cultural de Nuevo León (Monterrey: Fondo Editorial de Nuevo León, 2009), 18. Also, Andrés Montemayor Hernández, Historia de Monterrey (Asociación de Editores y Libreros de Monterrey, 1971), 85.

314 Rosa María Alvarado Torres points out that by the end of nineteenth century in Colima families had to ensure burial of their deceased love one within 24 hours of his/her death in order to prevent the spread of disease. See Rosa María Alvarado Torres, “Los Testamentos en Colima 1780-1810” (master’s thesis, Universidad de Colima, 2005), 88. Valdés claims the 24-30 hour waiting period ensured that the dead were really dead. Additionally, the living shouted multiple times to ensure that the dead person would not awaken. See Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 3. There were several ways to determine if the person was really dead. One way was by pressing a lit candle or mirror against the cadaver’s nose to see if the person was breathing. Also, notaries often called out the full name of the deceased three times before officially declaring the person dead. See José Gabino Castillo Flores, “‘En el Nombre de Dios. . .’ Actitudes y prácticas para el bien en los testamentos xalapeños de la primera mitad del siglo XVIII,” in Muerte y vida en el más allá: España y América, siglos XVI-XVIII, eds. Gisela von Wobeser and Enriqueta Vila Vilar (México, DF: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 2009), 24.

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hoping their prayers would benefit the recently departed. Although only 27 percent of

testators in my sample asked for a funeral mass on the day of they died or following day,

it would have been outside the norms to put the burial off longer than the day after

death.315 Death signaled passage into the intermediate state, and the official church

encouraged proper funerary rites to aid the soul’s journey from life to the afterlife.

Furthermore, the basic inconvenience of a corpse in living quarters most likely

contributed to the need for a speedy interment. Those with sufficient financial means

would have opted for a funeral procession as indicated in their will. Burial in one’s local

parish church eased the time it would take to prepare for the funeral and burial. Lastly,

since many family members lived relatively close together, burial in the local church

conveniently provided for family members to carry on masses for their benefit and other

remembrance activities in the local parish.

Not only did most testators indicate the local parish church as their preferred

burial location, but 42 percent of testators also declared a specific resting place within the

church. This was done in a couple of ways. Testators often named a specific object in the

local church where they requested interment. In some cases this took years of planning

and devotion to a specific saint. In the late seventeenth century, a few testators signaled

their preference for burial near the altar to San Miguel. Sargento Mayor Pedro de la Rosa

Salinas’ 1684 will requested burial in the parish church near the altar to San Miguel “in

whose place and site I have made graces and a donation for my burial, my wife, and my

315 This statistic should evoke a pause in interpreting data from testamentary records. Just because

only 27 percent signaled burial on the day of their death or the following day does not mean that 73 percent of testators desired burial two days or longer after their death. Rather, it means that 73 percent simply did not voice the concern, and/or their scribe did not encourage them to make a statement on the matter.

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descendants, for having adorned the said altar.”316 Additionally, de la Rosa Salinas’ left a

silver lamp to be placed on the altar. In 1723, Sargento Mayor Antonio López de

Villegas, a lay member of the Third Order, requested burial at the foot of the altar of San

Miguel de Arcángel in the parish church where his wife, Doña María González Hidalgo,

had been buried.317 However, requests for burial near the altar of San Miguel tapers off

after 1723 without any indication as to why.318

Nine percent sought burial near the holy water font symbolically located near the

entrance of the nave as the “‘first step’ towards the altar.”319 In 1715, Juan Méndez Tovar

asked for burial near the entrance of the church of San Francisco “next to the holy water

font where all can step on me in order to remember me.”320 The desire for humility

trumped social status from time to time. Coming from a line of illustrious family

members, Sargento Mayor Alonso de León, an eponymous descendent of the famed

chronicler of the region and son of a former governor, requested burial in the parish

church of Valle del Pilón located south of Monterrey “in the part most humble, near the

entrance of the door, or at the foot of the holy water font.”321 The holy water font

316 AHM, Testamento del Sargento Mayor Pedro de la Rosa Salinas, 26 Agosto 1684, Prot., vol.

15, exp. 11, f. 0. 317 AHM, Testamentos del Sargento Mayor Antonio López de Villegas, 12 Junio 1723, Prot., vol.

11, exp. 1, f. 251, no. 96. The plural title reflects that he made a few wills over time. 318 Was the altar damaged or destroyed somehow? Or, did the practice fall off out of disinterest in

the saint? 319 After Constantine, baptisteries were built in separate buildings shaped as octagons to symbolize

the “eighth day,” wherein God recreates the baptized. The “eighth day” language was employed in the early second-century Epistle of Barnabas, Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, and Tertullian. Later, church architecture incorporated baptisteries at the entrance of the nave to mark the symbolic entryway towards the altar. Lawrence S. Cunningham, Introduction to Catholicism (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 88.

320 AHM, Testamento de Juan Mendez Tovar, 21 Febrero 1715, Prot., vol. 10, exp. 1, f. 319, no. 201.

321 The wills says, “en la parte más humilde que hubiere, al entrar en la puerta, o al pie de la pila del agua bendita.” AHM, Testamento del Sargento Mayor Alonso de León, 15 Enero 1706, Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 55, no. 26.

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symbolized purity and ritual cleanliness, so by requesting burial near it, the testator could

display humility. Another 6 percent of testators requested burial near the entrance or the

most humble place. These sites would have been the least expensive. Only 5 percent of

testators requested burial below the high altar, the most expensive locale. Burial under

the high altar would have been sought after by those wanting to receive the meritorious

effects of the Eucharist. A full 20 percent left their precise burial location up to their

executors, entrusting them to make the best choice given their socio-economic setting.

Another way to designate a place for burial was to request a humble place without

naming a specific location. As we saw at the beginning of this chapter, Juan Francisco de

la Garza Falcón’s 1785 will requested that he be buried in a humble place. Larkin locates

the desire of testators to receive a humble burial with imitatio Christi:

The act of burial provided testators a further opportunity to design liturgical actions. Those testators who took the opportunity usually requested that their corpses be buried in particularly humble locations. This desire to humiliate the corpse was an extension of penitential piety into the realm of the dead. Testators who requested humiliating burials, like the penitents who marched in processions scourging their flesh, sought to mimic the pain and ignominy of Christ’s passion and death.322

Reineros who requested burial in humble places would have signaled their

unworthiness and desire to receive the spiritual benefits associated with their bodies’

resting in a symbolic space. Certainly, a yearning to imitate Christ impacted the

mentalities concerning death and burial. Alternatively, from purely an economic

standpoint, burial located farthest away from the altar was also the cheapest, so interment

322 Larkin, “Liturgy, Devotion, and Religious Reform,” 502.

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near the entrance or the holy water font could also signal a poor or frugal testator. Twice

as many testators requested burial near the holy water font prior to 1777 (12 percent) than

after (6 percent). Perhaps this is somewhat indicative of an improving economy, whereby

those testators who could afford church burial preferred a place closer to the altar.

However, if burial near the holy water font is taken largely as a symbolic practice, then

perhaps other funerary practices provided a sense a humility that was previously

associated with burial near the holy water font.

Another explanation emerges when analyzing the data in a larger context. When

burial location data are disaggregated, a clear trend develops. Prior to 1777 nearly half of

testators requested a specific place of burial in their wills. However, only about one-third

of testators requested a specific place after 1777. Over the course of the eighteenth-

century testators, and possibly their notaries, were simply less concerned with naming a

specific burial location as time progressed, yet requests for burial in the parish

church/cathedral remained high among testators throughout the time period of this study.

At the same time, one-third of testators continued to shy away from enunciating details

concerning their own funerals, leaving the minutiae up to their executors whom they

entrusted for settling their debts on earth and remembering their souls in the afterlife.323

The data indicate that the majority of testators were concerned with church burial and less

concerned with the specific location within the church.

Wills were also used to petition local priests for church burial. In his will, dated

26 August 1701, Capitán Andrés González, an español from the town of Tepatitlán who

323 Overall, 30 percent of testators left their funerals up to their executors. The percentage is nearly

identical from 1700-1776 and 1777-1810, 32 percent compared to 28 percent.

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had married an unprecedented four times, begged the head priest (señor cura) of the city

to allow him to be buried in the church “for the love of God” even though he did not

possess sufficient funds to donate for a church burial.324 The father of three was not

indigent. Even though he entered into his first marriage without any assets and his first

wife without a dowry, he was able to build up his sheep herd and could afford to draw up

a will towards the end of his life. His problem, as he readily admitted, was that his debts

exceeded his personal assets. At first glance, his possession of 1,300 goats, a large site for

grazing animals (un sitio de ganado mayor), and four other plots of land (caballerías de

tierra) in nearby Guadalupe seem impressive. However, he clarified that 600 of the goats

belonged to the Franciscan convent’s confraternity, Cofradía de las Ánimas de los

Naturales, and he had loaned 300 goats to his oldest son, Andrés, who had not paid him

rent for five years. His will was crafted to stress his worthiness to be buried in the church.

For example, of his debt to Capitán Don Diego de Medrano of Monterrey, 21 of the 135

pesos were used to buy the freedom of a Tlaxcalan Indian named Esteban. He pointed to

another sign of his worthiness, his duty as mayordomo (supervisor) of the Cofradía de

Nuestra Señora del Rosario in the convent of San Francisco.

In a codicil dated one month later, Andrés requested burial in the Franciscan

convent next to the holy water font. The primary purpose of the codicil, however, seems

to make one last attempt at narrowing his outstanding debts by identifying six individuals

who owed him. With the exception of Alonso García, who owed him 400 pesos,

324 The testator had incurred a number of debts to a wide-ranging group of people. His largest

debts were to merchants and businessmen from Mexico City, including 1,800 pesos to Capitán Francisco García de Abril, 1,200 pesos to Esteban de Alfaro, 1,000 pesos to Francisco de Castro, and 800 pesos to Bernardo de Morales. AHM, Testamento del Capitán Andrés González, 26 Agosto 1701, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 106v, no. 43.

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everyone else owed him very little, ranging from as small as a peso to as much as 90

pesos. Two of those identified as his debtors were Tlaxcalans from San Miguel de

Aguayo. Andrés authorized the codicil in the presence of his youngest son, Cristóbal

González, who had the double function as both the alcalde ordinario as well as the honor

of being his father’s executor. Licenciado José Guajardo, a beneficed priest (cura

beneficiado) in Monterrey, served as one of the five witnesses.

Chapels in the Parish Church

Some 7 percent of testators requested burial in chapels located within the church;

however, all of these requests occurred prior to 1777. What is known about these chapels

comes from the scant references found in testaments, burial records, and an episcopal

visitation. Joseph Antonio Martínez Benavides’ ecclesiastical visit in 1777 described the

parish church’s four side chapels.325 The first chapel was located in the crossing of the

cruciform church. The chapel had not one but two significant images, Cristo Crucificado

and Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, the latter of which María Báez Treviño endowed in

her 1726 will.326 The juxtaposition of the two images conveyed a profound sense of

325 In 1775, the Bishop of Guadalajara approved of a clerical visit throughout Nuevo Reino de

León. Two years later, Dr. Don Joseph Antonio Martínez, a native of Nuevo Reino de León and priest in Monterrey, and Joseph Santiago García de Evia, a notary public, set out to cover about half of the area of Nuevo Reino de León over the course of their six-month visit. Joseph Antonio Martínez Benavides, Visita de la provincia del Nuevo Reino de León, villa del Saltillo y real del Mazapil, que hizo el doctor don José Antonio Martínez Benavides, año de 1777, eds. Valentina Garza Martínez and Juan Manuel Pérez Zevallos (México, DF: Centro de Investigaciones y Estudios Superiores en Antropología Social, 2013). The original document is located in the Archivo Histórico de la Arquidiócesis de Guadalajara, Visitas pastorales, 1777, 93ff.

326 Maria’s husband, Sargento Mayor Pedro Guajardo, asked to be buried in the chapel of Nuestra Señora de los Dolores in his 1712 poder. Apparently, the chapel had not yet been finished at that time, so he requested that his bones be moved from the convent to the chapel if he died before the chapel was finished. AHM, Se confiere poder al Bachiller Nicolás Guajardo y al Dr. José Martínez, 13 Agosto 1712, Prot., vol. 9, exp. 1, f. 227, no. 81.

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sacrifice and sorrow in the midst of seminal religious events.327 The other three chapels

were dedicated to a single devotion: la Santísima Trinidad, which sought to honor the

eternal, consubstantial relationship among the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Nuestra

Señora del Nogal, which promoted Monterrey’s local apparition of the Virgin, and las

Benditas Ánimas, which the local confraternity promoted suffrages to benefit of souls in

purgatory. Martínez’s important but pithy entry on Monterrey notes that all necessary

adornments to celebrate the mass were found in the parish, including “adornment and

purity provided for the altars, tablecloths, lecterns, and candlesticks.”328 Additional

chapels were added. By 1775, there were a total of eight chapels with a beneficed priest

and two vicars to celebrate the divine offices.329 In her 1796 will, Doña María Adriana

Leal de León asked for buried in the chapel of St. Joseph in the parish church with a mass

and novena.330

A few reineros sought burial in one of these chapels located in the parish

church.331 For example, in his poder written in 1736, Don Francisco Ignacio de Larralde,

who was an administrator of the tithe in Nuevo Reino de León, requested burial near the

327 The image of Christ crucified, of course, recalls his passion and crucifixion and Our Lady of

Sorrows recalls the seven sorrows of the Virgin Mary, including the prophecy of Simeon (Luke 2:34-35), the flight into Egypt (Matthew 2:13), the lost child Jesus in the Jerusalem Temple (Luke 2:43-45), the meeting of Jesus and Mary on the Via Dolorosa, the crucifixion of Jesus (John 19:25), the piercing of Jesus’ side and his descent from the cross (Matthew 27:57-59), and Jesus’ burial in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea (John 19:40-42).

328 The Spanish version says, “aseo y limpieza proveidos de aras, manteles, atriles, and candeleros.”

329 For a description of parish church and convent in 1775, see Melchor Vidal de Lorca y Villena, “Relación de la visita que he ejecutado de la provincia de este Nuevo Reino de León, yo el coronel de infantería de los reales ejércitos don Melchor Vidal de Lorca y Villena, gobernador y comandante general por su majestad en ella,” in El Nuevo Reino de León en Voz de sus Contemporáneos, eds. Lydia Espinosa Morales and Isabel Ortega Ridaura (Monterrey, NL: Fondo Editorial Nuevo León, 2006), 131-132.

330 AHM, Testamento de doña María Adriana Leal de León, 29 Octubre 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 124, no. 75.

331 Martina Will de Chaparro found the same practice in colonial New Mexico when one of the church benefactors in Santa Fe “felt entitled to burial within its chapel dedicated to San José” even though he owned a few private chapels. Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 163-164.

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altar de las Ánimas in the parish church.332 Three of the seven requests for burial in a

private chapel came from one of colonial Monterrey’s wealthiest families, Doña María

Báez Treviño and her two sons, Joaquín and Domingo. She endowed two of the four

chapels. In her 1740 poder, Doña María requested burial next to her deceased husband,

General Pedro Guajardo, “in the parish chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows.”333 Her eldest

son, Joaquín Martínez Guajardo, made known his desire to be interred “in the parish

church in this city in the Chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows (Capilla de Nuestra Señora de

los Dolores) of my mother.” Clause two in Domingo Miguel Guajardo’s 1759 will states

that “It is my will that my body will be buried in the parish church of this city in the

chapel that Doña María Báez Treviño, my mother, erected, leaving the funeral pomp of

my burial up to the judgment of my executors.”334 In May of 1759, Doña María’s

youngest son, Don Domingo Miguel Guajardo, requested burial in the second chapel

located in the parish church, “in the chapel of the Most Holy Trinity that pertains to us,

the said grantors, inheritors, and heirs.”335

Burial in endowed chapels could be extended to non-family members, too. In his

1737 will, Salvador Canales asked permission to be buried “in the parish church of this

city in the Chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows if the owners give permission and if not, in the

place where my executors find convenient whose disposition I leave with other things

332 For his request, see AHM, Se otorgan poder (mutualmente), 26 Junio 1736, Prot. 13, exp. 1, f.

48, no. 21. For a description of his position, see AHM, Confiere poder legal, 08 Mayo 1733, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1720, f. 185, no. 79.

333 AHM, Se confiere poder al Bachiller Juan Bautista Báez Treviño, 13 Septiembre 1740, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 402, no. 185.

334 AHM, Testamento de Gral. Domingo Miguel Guajardo, 8 de Mayo 1785, Prot., vol. 16, f. 3, no. 38.

335 The poder states, “en la capilla de la Santísima Trinidad que pertenece a nos, dichos, otorgantes, herederos y sucesores.” AHM, Se confieren poder mutuamente para testar, 21 Junio 1755, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 325, no. 145.

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concerning my soul, masses, funeral, and burial that is my will.”336 His will suggests that

Doña María was a lender or perhaps even a financier, depending on whether she merely

loaned money to Canales or obtained equity from an investment. Regardless of the

precise financial relationship, there is evidence to suggest that a significant bond had

developed between the two families. Canales’ appointed Domingo Miguel Guajardo as

his chief executor, overseeing his modest estate that included a stone house and 300

goats. His possessions were to benefit all five of his young children, all of whom were

under the age of nine at the time of the writing of his will.

Funeral, Burial Costs and Ethnicity

Burial location depended on one’s socio-economic status and ethnicity.

Parishioners paid fees to their priests for baptisms, marriages, special masses, and burials

as dictated by tradition and canon law. The Third Mexican Provincial Council (1585)

established a standardized list of prices, justifying the schema on moral grounds. Goods

and services collected for religious services rendered were not for the gain of “temporal

wealth, but only for the health of souls.”337 In 1767, Archbishop Francisco Antonio

Lorenzana published an arancel, or fee schedule, from Mexico City. Congregants paid

the fee directly to their parish priests. The official schedule listed the fee for burial with a

336 It is striking to note that Canales’ request is open to the possibility that the owners could deny

his request. However, Canales revealed that his request was couched in a relationship to the owners and not merely random. Canales referred to Doña María as “my master” (mi ama) in clause 11 when stipulating that the amount he owed her could be found in his accounting book (libro de cuentas). AHM, Testamento de Salvador Canales, 9 de Diciembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, f. 135 vto., no. 61.

337 Mariano Galván Rivera, ed., Tercer Concilio Provincial Mexicano celebrado en México el año de 1585 confirmado en Roma por el Papa Sixto V y Mandado Observar por el Gobierno Español en Diversas Reales Ordines (México: Eugenio Maillefert, 1859), 49-50.

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high processional cross (de alta cruz) at 12 pesos and four reales for those of Spanish

descent, referred to as “españoles.”338 This type of solemn burial takes its name from the

practice of the priest and his acolytes (altar boys) accompanying the body in a procession

from the deceased’s residence to the parish church along with a number of sacred objects,

including a high cross, candles, incense, and holy water. Spanish descendants who could

not afford such a funeral and burial were given the option of a burial with a low cross (de

cruz baja) and a small procession for five pesos. If the testator requested burial in another

church rather than the parish church, then he or she was charged an additional five pesos,

offering yet another advantage of requesting burial in the local church rather than

elsewhere. The indigent were buried without the kind of pomp and circumstance awarded

to the more affluent members of society. Burial and funeral prices largely remained

stagnant during the eighteenth century. Twenty-two years later, Archbishop Alonso

Núñez de Haro y Peralta’s arancel for baptisms, marriages, funerals, masses, and

processions ordered priests to respect his predecessor’s fees.339

The overall cost of the funeral and burial depended upon several factors in

addition to ethnicity and burial location, including the number of attendants who

accompanied the priests at the procession and the amount of pomp requested. Wealthy

testators flaunted their status by requesting a funeral and burial that went above and

beyond what lower members of society could afford. The reason for publication of

338 AGENL, A.E. 1/27, Arancel para que todos los Curas del Arzobispado fuera de la Cd. De

México, sepan las cuotas que deben cobrar para celebrar matrimonio, bautizos, procesiones y entierros. 1767. Cd. De México.

339 AGENL, A.E. 2/66, Edicto del Dr. Alonso Núñez de Haro y Peralta, Arzobispo de México, donde pide sean respetados los aranceles que marca la Real Cédula del 31 de Agosto de 1754. Además recuerda la bula por medio de la cual los curas párrocos pueden casar a sus feligreses sin licencia del Ordinario. 1789. Tacubaya, Edo. De México.

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official fees in the eighteenth century derives from archbishops who attempted to thwart

the common practice of overcharging for the sacraments.340 Some destitute couples

cohabitated together without marrying because they could not afford the marriage fee.341

One early nineteenth-century indigenous woman from Michoacán paid four pesos for her

first house, but her priest charged her 24 pesos for the marriage ceremony.342 The 1767

arancel aimed to clarify and standardize the fees throughout New Spain. However, the

roots of many disputes between clergy and parishioners resulted not from the priest’s fee

but from sharp disagreements concerning the value of their pesos de la tierra, or

goods.343 Despite the efforts to standardize the costs for giving the sacraments and

organizing the ritualized pomp, María de los Ángeles Rodríguez Álvarez points out that

the arancel often functioned as mere “words on a page” rather than as living practices that

were rigidly enforced, calling to mind the familiar colonial refrain, “I obey, but I do not

comply.”344 Colonial priests often worked out their fees through an agreement

(compromiso or convenio) with their local communities. Matthew O’Hara gets to the

issue of power and economics by stating, “Whatever the arrangement, priests and

doctrineros obsessively guarded their right to collect fees from parishioners.”345 Most of

340 Aware of the abuse, Archbishop Don Manuel Joseph Rubio y Salinas issued a strong rebuke of

priestly abuse who overcharged their constituents for marriage. The archbishop declared that one “should only pay for the rights of marriage according to the official fee schedule.” AGENL, A.E. 1/22, Edicto donde se ordena que los curas no se excedan el cobro de derechos de matrimonio, ni lleven por las amonestaciones, certificación y sus resultados, más que lo impuesto por el arancel. 1764. Cd. De México.

341 Regardless of economic status, there was an expectation for the couple to marry. The IV Mexican Provincial (1771) followed Trent in “those who engage in premarital intercourse prior to marriage commit the gravest mortal sin even if a promise of marriage has been made.” Concilio Provincial Mexicano IV, celebrado en la ciudad de México el año de 1771 (Querétaro: Imprenta de la Escuela de Artes, 1898), 175

342 See Stanley C. Green, The Mexican Republic: The First Decade, 1823-1832 (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1987), 181.

343 Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 82. 344 María de los Ángeles Rodríguez Álvarez, Usos y Costumbres Funerales en la Nueva España

(Zamora, Michoacán: El Colegio de Michoacán/El Colegio Mexiquense, 2001), 144. 345 O’Hara, A Flock Divided, 198.

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the annual income for parish priests depended on the fees (derechos) charged for

administrating of the sacraments.346

Outside of urban areas many frontier friars accepted whatever their parishioners

could afford. In colonial New Mexico, for example, Martina Will de Chaparro cites

detailed accounts left by friars showing that few parishioners paid sixteen pesos for a

funeral, the amount designated by the arancel.347 Evidence in Monterrey points to pricing

according to local custom. The familiar expression “customary alms” appears ubiquitous,

and testators preferred to pass this responsibility on to their executors. María de los

Ángeles Rodríguez Álvarez notes the phrase “the burial is paid according to the

customary alms” (“que se pague el entierro con la limosna acostumbrada”) appears

throughout sixteenth-century wills as well.348 My study of burial records in 1795 reveals

13 possible fee amounts for the burial, from as low as 20 reales to as expensive as ten

pesos, suggesting the arancel was a guide. According to death records, most of the

deceased paid a standard fee of three pesos rather than four pesos as recommended by the

schedule. Even then, though, three pesos for a common or day laborer seems steep. In

nearby Chihuahua, for example, Cheryl Martin claims that an eighteenth-century worker

there would have only earned a shade more than an unskilled agricultural worker in

central Mexico, roughly two reales a day, or six pesos for a month of work consisting of

24 days.349 Soldiers stationed in northeast Mexico earned 365 pesos a year, corporals

346 Brading writes, “Although confraternities played a central role in parochial life, their

contribution to parish finance should not be overstated. Curas in this epoch earned more from the administration of the sacraments than from the celebration of mass.” D.A. Brading, Church and State in Bourbon Mexico: The Diocese of Michoacán 1749-1810 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 143.

347 Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 83. 348 Rodríguez Álvarez, Usos y costumbres funerarias en la Nueva España, 144. 349 Martin, Governance and Society in Colonial Mexico, 57.

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earned 380 pesos, and captains earned 600 pesos paid by the king’s officials in Mexico

City.350 By comparison, residents of Monterrey in the seventeenth century paid 400 pesos

a year to the priest and vicar of the city.351 While the “solemn poor” were exempt from

funeral and burial fees, low income wage earners were assessed a small fee appropriate to

their earnings.352 Bishop Juan José de Escalona y Calatayud’s 1731 arancel retold parish

priests to visit and administer the sacraments to the poor and the sick regardless of their

ability to pay the fee. Regardless of the precise fee, the premium paid for a final resting

required a significant sacrifice in colonial Mexico.

Few testators indicate a precise funeral and burial budget. Most testators were

content to charge their executors to sell their movable assets and immovable properties to

pay for masses, the funeral, and burial. S.L. Cline notes that “Anything of value could be

sold for burial” and she provides examples of testators estimating the value of their assets

prior to death.353 Reinero testators generally did not get into the specifics, though some

testators claimed to pay for their parent’s funerals and habits.354 As previously cited, half

of all testators were sick and another 20 percent were injured at the writing of their wills,

indicating the dire circumstances of determining the value of their belongings and costs

associated with their demise. Furthermore, of the 20 percent of testators who claimed to

be in good health, it was probably difficult to know exactly how much their assets were

worth. The executors were then tasked with this responsibility, making sure the debts,

350 Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, Description of Nuevo León, México, 73. 351 Israel Cavazos Garza, Controversias Sobre Jurisdicción Espiritual Entre Saltillo y Monterrey

(Saltillo: Colegio Coahuilense de Investigaciones Históricas, 1978), 10. 352 On the “solemn poor” who were exempt from funeral and burial fees, see Rodríguez Álvarez,

Usos y Costumbres Funerarias en la Nueva España, 147-148. 353 Cline, Colonial Culhuacan, 1580-1600, 22. 354 For example, Testamento de don Isidro Gutiérrez de Lara, 17 Diciembre 1763, Prot., vol. 16, f.

217, no. 89.

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funeral, and burial fees were paid from the assets of the recently departed. General

Francisco Ignacio de Larralde’s will, authorized by his wife, stated that the couple would

pay 25 pesos each for burial in the Altar de las Ánimas in the parish church.355 Blas de la

Garza’s 1780 will provides his request for burial in the parish church in Monterrey for

“ocho pesos de fábrica.”356 Eight pesos would have provided a prime location for burial

as close to the altar as a lay person was allowed. By comparison, in 1795 only one

individual out of 179 dead had a burial that exceeded eight pesos. Five years later, in

1800, the cathedral scribe responsible for recording deaths, Bachiller Juan Joseph de la

Garza, moved away from the practice of specifying the cost of burial in the church.357 A

few wills actually provide a budget for the funeral and burial. In 1735, Don José Urrutia’s

testament, written posthumously in virtue of the power he invested in Sargento Mayor

Juan Bautista de Villarreal and Don Francisco de Larralde, records that Urrutia was

buried in the first division of the parish church wearing a habit of St. Francis.358 To

benefit his soul, 28 low masses were recited, costing one peso each. Alms were also

given. The total cost of his “decent burial” was 143 pesos and 4 reales. Four years later,

Nicolás de Quintanilla claimed that it took him six years to pay off 150 pesos of debt,

funeral expenses, burial, and masses.359 A generation later, the cost of a funeral and

355 AHM, Testamento del Gral. Francisco Ignacio de Larralde, 1 Enero 1748, Prot., vol. 15, f. 281,

no. 128. 356 AHM, Testamento de Blas de la Garza, 29 Diciembre 1780, Prot., vol. 19, f. 1, no. 1. 357 Of the 208 deaths that year, de la Garza only recorded the cost for four deceased reineros, three

at 5 pesos and one at 15 pesos. No reason is given, but by 1802 the practice resumes. 358 AHM, Testamento de don José Urrutia, 25 de Abril, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1, f. 327 vto., no. 133. 359 AHM, Testamento de Nicolás de Quintanilla, 23 Abril 1739, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 239, no.

106.

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burial appears relatively similar. Don Tomás de Elizondo’s 1779 will allocated 200 pesos

in reales for his funeral and burial and for his wife.360

Regardless of how closely the price lists were followed, what is known is that the

arancel called for a tiered-pricing schema for most services according to one’s perceived

race, (1) españoles (Spaniards or Spanish descendants) , (2) castas (mestizos and

mulattos), (3) village Indians (índios de pueblo), and (4) Indians who worked on

haciendas (índios de quadrillas y haciendas). Baptism remained fixed at one peso per

head regardless of ethnicity. The eighteenth-century fee schedules did not distinguish

between peninsulars, those born in Iberia, and creoles, those born in the New World to

Iberian parents. The pricing schema, however, attempted to account for the widespread

economic inequality among the races to the extent that Spaniards paid more for the

sacraments than mestizos, mulattos, and indigenous peoples, recognizing that the former

had better economic opportunities than the latter counterparts. The arancel, of course,

presumed to know the ability of what parishioners could donate despite the strength of

their local economy. Parish priests perpetuated these ethnic distinctions by usually

maintaining three separate registers according to ethnicity. Mestizos, though, could be

included with the Spaniards.361

Ethnicity not only affected where one was buried, but also how much one was

expected to donate for burial. Colonial parish churches were divided into four or possibly

five sections (cuerpos) in some churches, from the altar to the entrance. Without grave

markers, the place of burial indicated by the priest’s book of burials was often the only

360 See clause 5 in AHM, Testamento de don Tomás de Elizondo, 4 Agosto 1779, Prot., vol. 18, f.

335, no. 166. 361 Brading, Church and State in Bourbon Mexico, 144.

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means of identifying where the body was buried.362 The most exclusive area for burial

was known as the presbyterium, or altar rails, a space reserved for priests and minor order

clerics. The diocese’s first bishop, Fray José Antonio de Jesús Sacedón, was buried “in a

small tomb or sepulcher that has been raised in the presbiterio and side of the gospel in

the holy parish church of this city, proceeding a meter from the said body in a coffin or

box is locked and there are two keys . . . and also that the said sepulcher is closed with

rock by the official who made it.”363

David Brading’s study of colonial Michoacán reveals that burial in the

presbyterium cost approximately 20 pesos, whereas the other three divisions available for

the laity cost 10 pesos, four pesos, or one peso, respectively. The fee associated with each

site was relative to its distance to the main altar, with the cheaper sites farther away. The

wealthy preferred burial inside the church.364 The destitute, however, were relegated to a

362 “In frontier times, most graves in the Spanish settlements had no markers at all. The priest

made an entry in the Libro de Enteros (“Book of Burials”) kept at each church, describing the spot of burial, using terms such as “the gospel side of the sanctuary rail” or simply “in the camposanto.” Terry G. Jordan, Texas Graveyards: A Cultural Legacy (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1982), 75.

363 The bishop’s body was buried “en una pequeña bóveda o sepulcro que se ha levantado en el presbiterio y lado del Evangelio de la Sta. Iglesia Parroquial de esta Ciudad, procediendo a meter dicho cuerpo en un ataúd o caja de dos llaves se cerró aquella con éstas por el señor Licenciado don Juan Manuel Mexía, Juez Provisor Vicario General, Gobernador de este Obispado, y la una de dichas llaves se entregó el señor cura de la expresada iglesia Bachiller don Alejandro de la Garza y otra a mí, dicho Gobernador, para que se conserve y deposite en el archivo de Gobierno . . . y también que quede dicho sepulcro cerrado a piedra y mezcla por los oficiales que fabricaron.” AHM, Certificación de entierro, 30 Diciembre 1779, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 113, no. 55.

364 Terry Jordan explains the burial situation in south Texas: “A royal edict in 1798 forbidding additional burials inside churches, for reasons of public health, failed to stop the practice, partly because families of wealth and influence regarded church burial as a status symbol. Camposantos were fine for the poor and for converted Indians, but not for ricos. Even some of the Anglos who died in the siege of the Alamo were interred in San Antonio churches. At nearby San José Mission, priests were buried in the walls of the church, while Christianized Indians found their rest in the camposanto in front of the structure. Even though sanctified, the early camposanto in Texas also served nonreligious functions. San José’s Indian cemetery measuring about 220 feet square, was also the mission’s plaza de armas, or parade ground.” Jordan, Texas Graveyards, 66.

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camposanto, or outside cemetery, a common fixture in colonial Mexican churches.365 The

destitute did not write wills, for they neither possessed material objects to bequeath nor

could afford the writing of a will and a funeral. The parish priests in Monterrey who

wrote a few lines about the deceased in their burial records often state that “the person

was poor and did not write a testament” or “the deceased did not have to write a

testament” to indicate their status. Burial records allude to the outside atrio (atrium or

walled courtyard) as the final resting place for the poor and indigent.366 Given its size and

location, the atrium was an ideal place for a variety of religious activities.367

Burial records for Monterrey’s parish church reveal much about practices.

Beginning in 1734, parish priest Juan Báez Treviño began an innovative practice to

record where the corpse was buried in the church.368 Most of the deceased were interred

in the parish church’s first section (cuerpo), farthest from the altar (see Table 5). Is it

likely that the first section extended outside the church and into the outside cemetery? If

not, there would be no record of those buried in the outside cemetery. Nevertheless, Báez

Treviño indicated whether the deceased was buried with a de cruz alta or de cruz baja

365 Gloria Fraser Giffords states, “A camposanto (literally “holy field”) is a cemetery or burial

ground outside the church proper and usually associated with every mission and diocesan church prior to the mid-nineteenth century. Burials inside churches were reserved for congregants receiving special honor, as befitted their rank or participation in the church’s affairs. The more expensive were close to the main altar, the cheaper ones under the choir loft. Burial locations outside were also strategic, the most desirable being those closest to the church.” Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light, 70.

366 A number of documents pertaining to land sales near the parish church reference the cemetery. For example, AHM, Vta. De varas de tierra, 14 Feb, 1728, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1675, f. 76 no. 34 and AHM, Vta. De casa y solar, 23 Oct 1728, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1678, f. 81, no. 37.

367 Giffords comments, “In the study of northern New Spain’s colonial churches, the atrio should be considered not only as a staging ground for some of the church’s interior activities or as an enclosure for the church graveyard or for minor religious structures, but as an integral part of the church—an extension of its interior space along its principal axis. This spot, usually walled, was dominated by the church’s façade and frontispiece and served as an open-air theater for religious plays, processions, and dances.” Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light, 61.

368 FamilySearch, “México, Nuevo León, registros parroquiales, 1667-1981,” accessed March 22, 2016, https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1-159380-55496-78?cc=1473204.

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funeral. Parish priests in Monterrey began recording the cost for burial in the second

division by the mid-eighteenth century. Prior to this, the parish scribes listed the common

expression “de limosna,” indicating the estate of the deceased paid a nominal fee for

burial. José Eleuterio González in the nineteenth century and Santiago Roel in the

twentieth century promoted the idea that only those deemed white or of Spanish descent

had the privilege to be buried in the parish church, whereas those deemed indigenous

were assigned the atrium of the convent of San Francisco de San Andrés.369 Alba

Josefina Garza Acuña’s study of nineteenth-century parish burial records reveals this not

to be the case.370 In addition to those of Spanish descent, burial in the parish church and

its outer court included mestizos, mulattos, and blacks. My reading of eighteenth-century

parish burial records confirms this. Garza Acuña reveals that indigenous adults and

children were buried below the cathedral’s tabernacle (sagrario) with great frequency

during the years 1817-1826, the time when the first civil cemetery emerged in Monterrey.

Juan Crouset’s 1798 map of Monterrey depicts the sagrario as adjacent to the western

side of cathedral (Figure 3). The map also reveals courtyard cemeteries on the south,

southwest, and southeast sides of the cathedral.

369 Both writers based their conclusions largely on a colonial cabildo document that speaks of the

Franciscan convent of San Andres’ very large cemetery located in the atrium to bury “naturales,” that is, indigenous peoples. See AHM, Informe sobre los primero años de la ciudad, 2 Agosto 1626, Actas de Cabildo, vol. 1, exp. 1626/002, f. 0.

370 Alba Josefina Garza Acuña, “Apuntes de Algunos Cementerios de Monterrey,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 31 (2004): 834.

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Year Number of Deaths

Burials in the First Division

Burials in the Second Division

Burials in the Third Division

Burials in the Fourth Division

1743 126 103 (82%) 5 (4%) 3 (2%) 1 (<1%)

Table 5: Church Burial by Place, 1743

Figure 3: Map of Monterrey by Juan Crouset, 1798371 The nineteenth-century historian of Monterrey, José Eleuterio González Mendoza,

known affectionately as “Gonzalitos,” argued that the two most frequent church abuses

were the unsanitary practices of church burial that led to outbreaks of disease and the

costs associated with the funeral and burial as stipulated in the arancel.372 The issue

concerning the unsanitary effects of church burial was not limited to Monterrey but

affected all areas of under Bourbon control. In a royal decree dating 3 April 1787,

Charles III limited church burials and ordered the construction of cemeteries outside of

371 Ciencia UANL (Universidad de Nuevo León), Map of Monterrey by Juan Crouset, accessed

March 6, 2017, http://cienciauanl.uanl.mx/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Monterrey1798.jpg?vm=r&s=1. 372 Garza Acuña, “Apuntes de Algunos Cementerios de Monterrey,” 836.

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towns. Eighteenth-century health advocates effectively thwarted the traditional social

order. Larkin comments:

In the late eighteenth century, some members of the clergy and laity began promoting cemetery reform, calling for burials to take place in cemeteries outside the city rather than under church floors as had been the practice. Burial in churches allowed for the ecclesiastical sanction of hierarchical order, for those of high status marked their privilege by burial close to the main altar or other important sites, whereas commoners and the poor rested far from altars or outside the confines of church entirely.373

Residents of Monterrey were attached to their customs and slow to act on the

king’s decree. The situation changed in 1802 when a severe epidemic arose. González

listed two causes of the epidemic.374 The first cause, he claimed, resulted from the

cadavers buried in the basement of the parish church. In order to bury newly deceased

bodies, burial workers had to remove decomposed bodies and place them in the charnel

house (osario) located in the outdoor atrium. This practice, then, explains why the church

floors never filled up with cadavers. Giffords explains that “Mortuary chapels, where the

body lay in state before burial, and osarios (charnel houses and putrefaction chambers),

where the body was allowed to decompose so that the bones might later be buried in a

much smaller area (thereby permitting the walled cemeteries to accommodate the remains

of many), were features of some missions and churches.”375 The second reason pertained

to the poor condition of the hospital, located in the eastern part of the city. Apparently air

from the east saturated the city with stench. In 1817, the city attorney (síndico

373 Larkin, “Confraternities and Community,” 193. 374 José Eleuterio González, Los médicos y las enfermedades de Monterrey (London: Wellcome

Historical Medical Library [1881] 1968), 103. 375 Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light, 70.

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procurador) of Monterrey sent a letter to the city council warning that the hot summer

temperatures “scorched the atmosphere” in the church and as a result the cadavers were

harming the health of the living.376

By 1819, the city established a cemetery behind the chapel of La Purísima

Concepción.377 The location on the outskirts of the city allowed separation between

rotting corpses and the city’s residents while burial remained connected to a religious

chapel. The new cemetery did not place restrictions on burial and anyone could be buried

there. Although some residents were still buried in the Franciscan convent and a few even

in the cathedral, the emergence of the new cemetery at La Purísima effectively moved

burial outside of the church’s prerogative and opened up the practice to modern

sensibilities established by science, hygiene, and fear of pollutants. The Mexican civil

government seized control of matters pertaining to the dead by the mid-nineteenth

century.378 Today the only burial permitted in the cathedral of Monterrey’s episcopal

crypt is reserved for the archbishops of the archdiocese. Human remains have been found

when the practice was widespread.379

376 AGENL, Correspondencia de Alcaldes Primeros de Monterrey. Caja 1. Fondo Colonial. 1817. 377 A cholera outbreak in 1833 claimed the lives of thousands of residents in Nuevo León, which

led to the establishment of a provisional cemetery. Aside from that tragic event, most deceased residents appear to have been buried in the civil cemetery at La Purísima until 1849.

378 The reform laws of 1859 effectively secularized cemeteries, ensuring government control over burial. President Benito Juárez established the Registro Civil to record vital statistics, a task formerly pursued by the church.

379 In 1962, archaeological excavations revealed a tomb with human remains over six feet below the altar rails (prebiterio). See Tomás Mendirichiga and Xavier Mendirichaga, La Catedral de Monterrey (Monterrey, NL: Ediciones Espiga, 1980), 25. Access to the crypt is located in the Capilla del Santísimo Sacramento.

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Burial Habits

In addition to place of burial, the Franciscan habit functioned as a powerful

symbol of piety and humility. The habit provided for married and unmarried laity to

embrace religious orders in death and strive for holiness in the afterlife. The prevalence

of the Franciscan habit in burial demonstrates the profound impact the Franciscans had

on the local community. As the first religious order in northeastern Mexico, the

Franciscan missions evangelized and catechized the indigenous populations. Their

convents taught the rudiments of language and theology to the young, leaving an impact

lasting for generations. Sixty percent of testators requested burial in a Franciscan habit,

and my sample data indicate that the percentage of testators who requested the burial garb

actually increased over time, from 54 percent from 1700 to 1776 to 66 percent from 1777

to 1810. By contrast, only one testator in my sample asked for a different shroud, a habit

of the Virgen of Guadalupe. Why would colonial reineros desire burial in a Franciscan

habit? Was the practice widespread, or was Monterrey’s population unique in their

requests?

During the Middle Ages mendicant friars fine-tuned the idea of heaven’s treasury

of merits, consisting of the infinite merits of Christ and the collective merits of the

saints.380 The doctrine of indulgence emerged in the eleventh and twelfth centuries out of

the idea that good works remit the temporal punishment of sin. Penance owed by one

believer could be performed and allocated by another. A Christian who obtained an

380 Although Hostiensis attributed the idea to the Dominican Hugh of St Cher, the accuracy of this

attribution is unclear at best. For more, see Robert W. Shaffern, “Images jurisdiction, and the treasury of merit,” Journey of Medieval History 22, no. 3 (1996): 237-247. Perhaps the phrase originates with the command to “lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:20; cf. Revelation 19:8). For Aquinas, the good work of the saints benefits the entire church.

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indulgence by going on pilgrimage, saying a set number of prayers, or purchasing one

could then apply its benefits to reduce time spent in purgatory. In Monterrey, as

elsewhere in New Spain and Europe, the burial habit served as a type of indulgence to

benefit testators fearful of their impending judgment. For the Dominican theologian

Thomas Aquinas, the habit was a sacramental, affording it the ability to restore a sinful

person back to a state of grace.381 For many in the Middle Ages the monastic habit aided

the believer’s entrance into heaven.382 In 1517, Pope Leo X gave a plenary indulgence to

those who died in one of the three holy orders of St. Francis.383 Non-members who asked

for a Franciscan habit could receive the spiritual benefit so long as they wore the habit

prior to their death and were buried with it, ensuring the popularity of the practice in

areas dominated by the Franciscans. Burial habits were closely linked to a saint. The

kindness of the Virgen or the selflessness of St. Francis, it was reasoned, provided much-

needed support and comfort as one prepared to die.384 In Spain, for centuries political

elites dressed in religious habits for security as one approached death and an uncertain

future. The first known written account of a Spanish monarch wearing a habit at death

occurs as early as the fourteenth century.385 Ferdinand II of Aragon (1452-1516) and

Isabella I of Castile (1451-1504) requested burial in Dominican and Franciscan habits,

381 See Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Supplementum Tertiae Partis, Q. 25, Article 1. 382 By the twelfth century the church taught that upon death God judges each person individually,

and the Parousia of Christ inaugurates corporate judgment. 383 Manual of the Third Order of St. Francis (London: Burns and Lambert, 1855) 15. 384 Since God the Father was often conceived as stern judge who sought out retribution for the sins

committed against him, the saints were often conceived as advocates for the deceased. It was easier, then, to request help from a saint.

385 María de Molina, a queen and regent for her son Fernando IV, and Alfonso XI, her grandson, received the sacraments and dressed herself in the habit of the predicatory friars to prepare her soul to God her creator. “Et luego la Reyna se confesó muy devotamente, et recibió todos los Sacramentos de la Iglesia como Reyna muy católica, et vistiose el habito de los frayles predicadores, et así dio el alma a Dios su Criador.” Sancho IV, her husband who died in 1295, was apparently buried in a Franciscan habit at death, too. Fernando Martínez Gil, La Muerte Vivida: Muerte y Sociedad en Castilla Durante la Baja Edad Media (Toledo: Diputación Provincial, 1996), 39.

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respectively. The practice of burial in religious habits continued in Spain among political

elites throughout the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.386

The monastic habit served as visible evidence that the testator sought a saintly

advocate for his or her defense at judgment and adhered to a culturally appropriate

practice at death. From Mexico City to Saltillo and from Veracruz to Monterrey, the most

common burial habit throughout New Spain was the Franciscan habit (mortaja). Amy

Porter points out that testators in the borderlands specifically requested the “habit of St.

Francis” rather than “Franciscan habit” like Monterrey. Testators preferred to invoke the

name of the saint (St. Francis) to personalize their relationship than merely pronouncing

the name of the order (Franciscan). Typical of the testaments from colonial Monterrey,

José Ignacio Treviño’s 1766 testament declared that his “body returns to the earth from

which it was formed and it is my will to be covered with the habit of my seraphic father

St. Francis and to be buried in the parish church of this city.”387 Reineros not only sought

out protection from St. Francis but also understood the burial garment itself to be

saturated with wonderworking powers. A Franciscan habit received a special blessing by

Franciscans prior to use. When worn at death, the habit provided protection from the fires

of purgatory as explained by several popes.388

The majority of testators in Monterrey requested burial in the habit of St. Francis

for protection and advocacy, but these were not cheap. In fact, they often exceeded the

386 The last king buried in a Franciscan habit was Philip III (1578-1621), yet Spanish queens

requested burial in religious habits for more than three centuries. Women, being more inclined than men to maintain this practice, often selected habits from the Franciscan, Carmelite, Capuchin, and Clarist orders.

387 “Iten. Mando mi cuerpo a la tierra de que fue formado y es mi voluntad se mortaje con el hábito de mi seráfico padre San Francisco y se sepulte en la parroquial de esta ciudad.” AHM, Testamento de José Ignacio Treviño, 14 Septiembre 1766, Prot., vol. 18, f. 107, no. 55.

388 The bulls of no less than four popes pronounced the benefits of using burial habits. See Voekel, Alone Before God, 33.

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fee for several types of modest funerals and burials. The standard fee seems to have been

12 pesos throughout the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.389 The cost could have

represented one or two months of salary, making it a significant investment for those who

could afford it though beyond reach for the poor.390 Other burial dresses in early modern

Spain and colonial New Spain consisted of linen shrouds, clerical vestments, habits of

religious orders, habits of military orders, and confraternity tunics; however, none of

these appeared in my sample from Monterrey save one request for burial in a habit of the

Virgen de Guadalupe. In San Esteban, the Tlaxcalans opted for white linen shrouds as a

cheaper alternative to Franciscan shrouds. A white linen shroud, for example, had a cost

of six pesos.391

The dominance of Franciscan missionary work coupled with impoverished

conditions in the northern frontier further inculcated Franciscan ideals, which certainly

encouraged burial in a Franciscan habit for a price. In 1766, Juan Ángel Canales, the 63-

year-old son of Salvador Canales who had sought burial in the chapel of Nuestra Señora

de Dolores some 29 years earlier, asked to be buried in the convent of San Francisco with

his body covered (amortajado) by a habit of the same saint.392 The testator purposely

389 In the margin of José Cantú’s 1737 will, the notary public wrote, “Di testimonio de este

testamento al otorgante y me quedo de pagar doce pesos en efectos, así lo juro.” AHM, Testamento de José Cantú, 25 Noviembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, f. 130, no. 59. In 1807, Lorenzo García set aside twelve pesos for “a habit of St. Francis” in his will and requested burial in the cathedral. AHM, Testamento de Lorenzo García, 17 Diciembre 1807, Prot., vol. 27, exp. 114. In Xalapa, a testator paid 12 pesos and four reales for a habit of St. Francis. See Castillo Flores, “En el Nombre de Dios,” 23.

390 After citing an example of a presidial soldier who paid 23 pesos for a Franciscan burial habit, Will de Chaparro explains, “The enormous cost—more than a month’s wages—undoubtedly placed the garment beyond the reach of many New Mexicans, though given that few New Mexicans worked as wage laborers, it is difficult to get a clear sense of the relative value of money.” Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 58.

391 Porter, Their Lives, Their Wills, 74. 392 AHM, Testamento de Juan Ángel Canales, 23 Diciembre 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 136, no. 79.

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made the logical connection, linking the saint with his convent and his habit.393

Ironically, then, the cost of a Franciscan habit worn by a religious order known for

austerity and poverty would prove to be too prohibitive for the poor day laborer. In 1737,

José Cantú, a resident of San Nicolás de Pedro de la Garza and the owner of 27 young

goats, seven mares, 12 young horses, and a small amount of land in Salinas that he

inherited from his father, did not ask for a habit.394 Rather, he sought burial near the holy

water font “as a poor person conforming to what the executors find convenient.” Even

among testators who could afford the writing of a will and possessed assets to be

dispersed upon death, 40 percent did not request burial in a Franciscan habit in their

wills. The high cost associated for the habit prevented many testators from purchasing a

habit. Economics, therefore, limited or expanded the testator’s ability to express his or

her piety. Another reason could have been a lack of confidence in the efficacy of the

practice or some other unnamed personal preference. However, even though 40 percent

failed to request burial in a Franciscan habit, it is possible the deceased’s executor, close

family members, or a confraternity provided one for burial.

Although neither the wills in my sample nor the parish burial records offer details

about the burial dress of young children, many parents dressed them like saints, bishops,

monks, nuns, priests, or specific pious individuals, including the Virgin and the Divine

393 To aid his soul, Canales requested 27 low masses prayed for his soul in the convent to be paid

from the sale of his sheep and goats. A 600 peso inheritance from his parents ensured that the cost of a burial shroud would have comprised a paltry 2 percent of his inheritance, not counting his other accumulated assets. For many testators like Juan Ángel Canales, 12 pesos was very little in exchange for help from a saint and entrance into heaven. For others, 12 pesos was beyond what they could afford for such a practice.

394 AHM, Testamento de José Cantú, 28 Noviembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, f. 130, no. 59.

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Child, or wrapped them in white, symbolizing their purity.395 These outfits were made by

colonial women in the home, whose practice of embroidery included such items as

tablecloths, burial cloths, altar cloths, and saints’ dresses.396 Whereas the death of an

adult elicited uncertainty and fear, many Catholics believed that the death of a baptized

infant was assured a place in heaven.397 Young children who died prematurely were

thought to become like the angels, leading their family members into heaven, so they

were afforded a special honor. Gerónimo López Prieto, a priest and ecclesiastical scribe,

briefly used the term “angelito/a” from 1701 to 1704, but afterwards other scribes

preferred párvulo/a to indicate the death of a child most likely under the age of seven.

Archaeological evidence from colonial Morelos indicates that adult caskets were often

black with minimal decorations in white paint, capturing symbolically the uncertainty of

what lies ahead.398 This is in stark contrast to the bright green, yellow, red, brown, and

395 They had died before the age of reason, after all. Elisa Mandell explains that “angelito” can

refer to three meanings. (1) The term could simply refer to small children generally, (2) an infant or child who died and was believed to become like an angel, or (3) the genre of portraits in colonial Mexico that depicted deceased infants and children who had died and dressed in religious costume as a saint or cleric. For more, see Elisa C. Mandell, “Posthumous Portraits of Children in Early Modern Spain and Mexico,” Hispanic Issues On Line 7 (2010): 68-88, accessed February 26, 2017, https://cla.umn.edu/sites/cla.umn.edu/files/hiol_07_04_mandell_posthumous_portraits_of_children.pdf.

396 In her study of colcha embroidery, Kirstin Erickson notes how today’s practice has roots in colonial life. “Contemporary colcha embroidery is thickly entwined with discourses of continuity and Hispanic heritage. The careful replication of colonial practices today recalls the frugality and the ingenuity of earlier times. It also reasserts the imprint of gender on everyday life; women's embroidery was visible in the home (on burial cloths and tablecloths) and in sacred spaces (on altar cloths and saints' dresses).” Kirstin C. Erickson, “Las Colcheras: Spanish Colonial Embroidery and the Inscription of Heritage in Contemporary Northern New Mexico,” Journal of Folklore Research 52, no. 1 (2015): 3.

397 The death of unbaptized infants was a perennial problem that haunted much of medieval and early modern Europe, leading to the popular belief in “children’s limbo” (limbus infantium or limbus puerorum). The result of such a death would prove unbearable for parents as the unbaptized infant would be deprived of the beatific vision for eternity. See Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 96-98.

398 Additionally, colonial Mexican paintings of elite creole infants who died became a popular way to remember the deceased loved one. Arturo Oliveros, Las Momias de Tlayacapan (México, DF: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia, 1990), 33.

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pink colors for adolescent and children’s caskets, suggesting more of a celebratory

occasion despite the tremendous lost suffered by the family of the deceased.

From Ostentatious to Modest Funerals

Baroque funerals for elites in large urban areas included at least a dozen or so

priests in procession, if not more. Processions of dignitaries frequently included even

larger groups. Over the course of the eighteenth century, testators became more vocal

concerning funeral pomp. By pomp (pompa), the testators meant the ostentatious funeral

rites associated with baroque Catholicism. This consisted of objects used for the funeral

procession and mass, including the use of incense, quality wax candles often from

Castile, funeral capes worn by the priests, and the gifts or offerings of the deceased.

Baroque funerals generally featured a variety of participants, including priests, sacristans,

acolytes, cantors, organist, gravediggers, mendicants, and female weepers (lloronas and

plañideras), though I could not find any evidence of the last two groups in reinero funeral

processions.399 The members of the funeral procession spent a considerable amount of

time walking from the deceased’s house to the parish, making one or more stops (posas)

along the way to sing a response. In 1748, General Francisco Ignacio de Larralde’s

funeral procession made nine stops before delivering his body to the parish church to sing

399 Sometimes money was left for the poor, but they were not required at the funeral procession. Martina Will de Chaparro says that “Instead of paid mourners or dozens of mendicants, a stately funeral in New Mexico signified a high mass with the body present, a table with candles, the priest’s use of the cope, and a high processional cross.” Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 90.

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a vigil, mass, and offer wax, bread, and wine.400 Almost 40 years later, a fruit tree farmer

by the name of Felipe Santiago Gómez requested a mass, vigil, and four stops.401 The

deceased’s social standing could be measured by the number of stops, each with a cost,

but the Bourbon crown would eventually ban the practice as an effort to “rationalize

deathways” (ways of dying) and curb “excesses of baroque funerals.”402 María de los

Ángeles Rodríguez Álvarez places the cost between 100 and 200 pesos for most

extraordinary funerals with pomp (el entierro extraordinario o de pompa), though high-

end funerals could total thousands of pesos.403 These funerals featured a large procession

and mass with more than 10 priests and many others accompanying the body of the

deceased. A funeral and burial with “regular pomp” (regular pompa) featured a much

smaller procession and cost around 50 pesos, still significantly higher than an ordinary

funeral ranging from a mere two or three pesos to 15-20 pesos.404

Overall, 25 percent of testators requested no, little, or moderate pomp. Zero

testators declared “no pomp” and only 14 percent requested little pomp between 1700

and 1776. However, 36 percent desired no, little, or moderate pomp from 1777-1810 and

a full 20 percent of testators during this time specifically stated no pomp or pompous

ceremony. Most testators from 1700-1776 who requested little pomp or a humble funeral

400 Since the general had already died, his will was authorized posthumously by his wife, Doña

Josefa Francisca Cantú del Río y la Cerda. The benefit of such a will is that unlike most colonial wills it is descriptive rather than merely prescriptive. AHM, Testamento del Gral. Francisco Ignacio de Larralde, 1 Enero 1748, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 281, no. 128.

401 AHM, Testamento de Felipe Santiago Gómez, 14 Febrero 1784, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 214, no. 102.

402 Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 90. Erik Seeman defines deathways more broadly to include “deathbed scenes, corpse preparation, burial practices, funerals, mourning, and commemoration.” Erik R. Seeman, Death in the New World: Cross-Cultural Encounters, 1492-1800 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010), 1.

403 For example, the funeral of one of Hernán Cortés’ grandsons cost over 16,000 pesos. See Rodríguez Álvarez, Usos y costumbres funerarias en la Nueva España, 152.

404Rodríguez Álvarez, Usos y costumbres funerarias en la Nueva España, 152.

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do so after 1766, 11 years before the foundation of the Diocese of Linares. Although it is

difficult to detect all of the exact reasons for this change of practice, it is more than a

coincidence that this shift in practice occurs precisely when reform Catholic leaders in

Spain and the New World began advocating against baroque, ostentatious rituals and for

humble, inner heart devotions. The enlightened reformers called upon parishioners to

give their money to benefit the poor rather than request showy funerals, vigils, and

hundreds of masses. A minority of late eighteenth and early nineteenth century testators

appear to have absorbed the shift and put it into practice, even if they could have afforded

funeral pomp. In 1797, Licenciado José Vital Vivero, the officeholder responsible for

wills, chaplaincies and pious works, requested that his funeral be as “poor and humble”

as possible.405 A decade later, Joseph Bizente Lozano asked for a funeral in the

Franciscan convent if he died in Monterrey or the chapel of San José if he died in Sabinas

located in modern-day Coahuila. Additionally, he stipulated his funeral to be “without

pomp in order to use that money to donate to the Hospicio de Boca de Leones [a

poorhouse] and to say masses.”406

The first testator in my sample to request moderate funeral pomp was Nicolasa

Fernández de Tijerina in 1725.407 Two decades later Juana de León voiced concern over

the vanity of funeral pomp. On the whole, de León asked for a rather traditional burial

405 His official title was Provisor y Vicario General, Juez de Testamentos, Capellanías y Obras

Pías y Gobernador. AHM, Testamento de José Vital Vivero, 10 Junio 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 246, no. 131.

406 At first, the hospicio, founded by fray Margil with the title of Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe in 1715, provided lodging for missionary students from Zacatecas in the Franciscan college. Afterwards, the friars used the site to teach children the basics of grammar. AHM, Testamento de Joseph Bizente Lozano, Prot., vol. 27, exp. 128, f. 0. See Eugenio del Hoyo, Historia del Nuevo Reino de León (1577-1723) (1972; reprint, Monterrey, NL: ITESM/Fondo Editorial Nuevo León, 2005), 493.

407 In my sample some early testators, such as Antonio Regalado Prieto and Doña María Báez Treviño, in 1717 and 1726, respectively, left the exact nature of their funeral ceremony up to their executors.

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accompanied with a vigil followed by interment “near steps of the high altar” in the

parish church.408 The widow requested over 300 masses, a novena to be said on the altar

de las Ánimas, and made no fewer than 12 substantial pious gifts. She stopped short of

declaring no pomp, but desired a funeral “without making it a thing of vanity.” There are

a few outliers outside of my sample that occur earlier than Juana de León’s will. In 1720,

Capitán Diego de Iglesias y Santa Cruz declared that his “burial should be without any

pomp.”409 Others were more moderate in their requests. In 1723, Sargento Mayor

Antonio López de Villegas was not quite as strict as he requested his burial with

“convenient pomp and pomp and proper ostentation.”410 Doña Leonor García de

Pruneda’s 1755 poder wanted all of the priests and religious to say mass for her soul on

the day of her funeral but “without making the funeral a thing of pomp and vanity.”411

Among some testators there was a tension between the traditional and the reform. In

1797, Matías López Prieto, a cathedral canon who oversaw penance, expressed his desire

to have the kind of funeral afforded “with the decency of his position” but then added

“without pompous ceremony.”412 In the same year another priest, Bachiller José

Alejandro de la Garza from Cerralvo, was clearer. He asked his executors to excuse all

408 The will says, “junto a los grados del altar maior.” AHM, Testamento de Juana de León, Prot.,

vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 317, no. 151. 409 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Diego de Iglesias y Santa Cruz, 16 Septiembre 1720, Prot., vol.

11, exp. 1, f. 144, no. 46. 410 AHM, Testamentos del Sargento Mayor Antonio López de Villegas, 12 Junio 1723, Prot., vol.

11, exp. 1, f. 251, no. 96. 411 The poder says, “sin propasarse el entierro a cosa de pompa ni vanidad.” AHM, Se confiere

poder a Manuel Fernández Riancho Villegas para testar, 4 Septiembre 1755, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 15, f. 332, no. 149.

412 AHM, Testamento del Lic. Matías López Prieto, 18 Marzo 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 174, no. 98.

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“superfluity and vain ceremony.”413

Another noticeable change taking place in wills over time concerns offerings

made at the funeral. The deceased offered staple objects necessary for saying mass,

namely wine, bread, and wax. The gifts of wine, bread, and wax held a variety of

symbolic meanings as discussed in chapter one in additional to their pragmatic uses in the

mass. Overall, 18 percent of testators bequeathed an offering of wine, bread, and wax.

However, there is a dramatic decrease in the percentage of testators willing to contribute

over time. From 1700-1776, 30 percent of testators bequeathed these gifts at their

funerals; however, only 6 percent mentioned these gifts from 1777-1810. There could be

an economic explanation behind this. Perhaps late eighteenth century testators could not

afford these common gifts, or at least they were unwilling to pay for these gifts. The cost

of a will (12 pesos), a habit (12 pesos), and a de cruz baja (low cross) procession and

burial (6 pesos) already added up to 30 pesos and more if the testator wanted a de cruz

alta (high cross) procession, vigil, and burial (10-20 pesos, depending on the number of

priests and acolytes in the procession and funeral). Alternatively, maybe notaries failed to

mention the gifts taking the custom as mundane. If that were the case, however, one’s

skepticism could question what the scribe recorded or failed to record. Nevertheless,

perhaps testators preferred to make other pious gifts rather than these. Chapter four

examines the types of pious gifts that testators made outside of the funeral and seeks to

determine changes over time and continuities in practice.

Changes in ornate funerals occur not only among testators but also in the general

413 His will states, “a mi funeral, en el que suplico a mis albaceas excusen toda superfluidad y

aparato de vanidad.” AHM, Testamento del Bachiller José Alejandro de la Garza, 1 Septiembre 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 200, no. 109.

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population. For the purposes of analyzing another set of data in order to compare and

contrast with the testaments, I selected two ten-year ranges from parish burial records,

each falling within one of the two eras under study, 1700-1776 and 1777-1810. The

percentage of testators who were buried with a de cruz alta procession, vigil, and funeral

mass fell dramatically over time, from 20 percent of the population during the 1734-1743

to only 5 percent from 1795-1804. The most elaborate of funerals and burials in the

parish death records list a funeral and burial mass, vigil, and high cross. The cost of this

type of funeral would have been approximately 24 pesos and 4 reales for a Spanish adult

and about half of that for a child. A de cruz baja funeral and burial would have been

about 12 pesos for a Spanish adult and eight pesos for a child. For mestizos, mulattoes or

free blacks, a de cruz alta funeral would have cost around 16 pesos, whereas a de cruz

baja would have cost about 10 pesos.

There were generally three types of funerals, de cruz alta, de cruz baja, and de

limosna.414 Archbishop Alonso Núñez de Haro y Peralta’s arancel published the fees

incurred for baptism, funeral, procession, burial, and masses.415 The mass with the body

present cost five pesos and another four pesos for a vigil. The cantors were to be paid six

reales for the vigil and one peso for the mass. Each minister would also receive one peso.

Additional pomp and rituals could then be added on to either one of first two basic burials

as well as votive masses for a saint or for the deceased, novenas, and memorial masses

414 Adriana María Alzate Echeverri, Suciedad y Orden: Reformas Sanitarias Borbónicas en el

Nueva Granada 1760-1810 (Bogotá: Escuela de Ciencias Humanas, Universidad del Rosario, 2007), 223. 415 AGENL, A.E. 2/65, Aranzel Para Todos los Curas de Este Arzobispado, Fuera de la Ciudad de

México, El Obispo Alonso Núñez de Haro y Peralta, Arzobispo de México, envía a los curas de su diócesis que viven fuera de la ciudad de México, el arancel con las cuotas que deben ser cobradas por bautizos, matrimonios, entierros, misas, procesiones, y demás. Tacubaya, Edo. De México, 1789.

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one year after the deceased had died (cabos de año). The fee to carry the body to the

church was set at three pesos along with another four reales for the cantors. The fee to

bury children was half of that of an adult. A procession would have cost four pesos, two

for the priest and four reales for each acolyte. There was neither a burial fee for the

“village Indians” nor for burial in the common cemeteries (cementerios comunes). Burial

in the church, requiring the opening of the chambers from the presbiterio to the medio

cuerpo cost four pesos, or from the medio cuerpo to the door cost 20 reales for españoles.

For mulattoes and “gentes de color quebrado,” burial from the medio cuerpo cost 12

reales and one peso for Indians. These fees were primarily destined to the fábrica of the

church, a fund for celebrating the mass and upkeep of the church. There is a considerable

challenge to make sense of burials given that at different times scribes employed a variety

of vocabulary to describe the funeral and burial. By mid-eighteenth century, parish

scribes moved away from the designation de cruz alta and de cruz baja in favor of

entierro de pompa, entierro sin pompa, and entierro de pobres de solemnidad, hence the

increase concern over pomp involves the ostentatious practice of earlier (and later) de alta

cruz burials. Early nineteenth century wills, however, refer to a burial with a high

processional cross and a high mass as an entierro mayor and with a low cross and a low

mass as an entierro menor. The ever-changing vocabulary varies by scribe and document.

In addition to the two meter tall high processional cross, the de cruz alta featured

two priests wearing copes, five sacristans, a high mass with the body, processional

candlesticks, incense, tolling of the bells, and responsorial psalms.416 By contrast, the de

416 In the event that there was only one priest available, a sacristan could take the place of one of

the priests. Julio Retamal Ávila, “El Testamento Colonial como Documento Histórico,” in Estudios coloniales I, ed. Julio Retamal Ávila (Santiago: Ril Editoriales/ Universidad Andrés Bello, 2000), 277.

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cruz baja featured a small processional cross that did not rise above the head of the

sacristan carrying it, the priest did not wear the cope, a low mass, a smaller entourage

with fewer candles, and fewer tolls of the bells. Cheryl Martin explains the difference

between a de cruz alta and a de cruz baja burial as the former was “more lavish, and more

expensive, form of funeral rites” compared to the latter, which was a “simple burial.”417

For William Taylor, the de cruz alta was a “first-class funeral,” whereas the de cruz baja

was an “ordinary funeral.”418 Taylor also notes that “In non-Indian parishes, funeral fees

usually earned more for the cura than marriage fees because of the options for elaborate

and costly funerals. In Indian parishes, it usually was the marriage fees that produced the

most revenue, or marriages and funerals produced about the same and from one and one-

half to four times the fees for baptisms.”419 The entierro de pobres de solemnidad,

entierro de limosna, or “de balde,” reserved for the extreme poor and slaves, featured a

stripped down procession and service with a low cross and a low mass. In a rare move, at

least one testator dispensed altogether with the low cross citing his inability to pay for

it.420

I selected two ranges of ten years with consistent information recorded in the

parish burial records for comparison, each falling within one of the two eras I am

currently studying, 1700 to 1776 and 1777 to 1810. Although the most ornate of funerals

417 Cheryl Martin cites a man who had a de cruz baja burial was not listed as “don” by the priest

responsible for his death record. Martin, Governance and Society in Colonial Mexico, 40. 418 William B. Taylor, Magistrates of the Sacred: Priests and Parishioners in Eighteenth-Century

Mexico (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), 135. 419 Taylor, Magistrates of the Sacred, 135. 420 In his memoria testamentaria, Gaspar González, the royal tax administer in the province,

recorded several substantial debts and requested a funeral “without any pomp and even without a low cross, because I do not have money to pay for it.” In Spanish, the document says, “sin pompa alguna, sino de cruz baja, por no tener ni con que pagarlo.” AHM, Diligencias practicadas con motivo de la muerte de Gaspar González, 29 Abril 1786, Prot., vol. 20, exp. 1, f. 2, no. 1.

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appears to decrease, the percentage of de cruz alta processions and funerals stayed fairly

consistent over time, 37 percent to 29 percent. Reineros increasingly were buried with a

simpler, de cruz baja funeral. Whereas only one-third of reineros selected the de cruz baja

funeral in the 1730s-1740s, about one-half of reineros were buried with this type of

funeral in the 1790s-1800s. Additionally, the percentage of de limosna funerals for the

poor increased as well. The number of extant wills from these two decades remain steady.

Years Total Number of Deaths

Number of de Cruz Alta Burials with Vigil and High Mass

Number of de Cruz Alta Burials

Number of de Cruz Baja Burials

Number of de Limosna Burials

1734-1743

736 147 (20%) 271 (37%) 250 (34%) 33 (4%)

1795-1804

2,158 101 (5%) 628 (29%) 1,133

(53%)

288 (13%)

Table 6: Total Deaths and Types of Burial, 1734-1743 and 1795-1804

The funeral liturgy for children differed than that for adults. The funerals for

children included the Gloria Patri, the priest wore white rather than black, and they

generally did not have a vigil.421 By excluding them, then, the percentage of those

requesting the most elaborate funeral in burial records thus increases (see Table 7). In

1802, for example, only one párvula española received an elaborate funeral comparable

to that of an adult, which suggests something about her family’s economic status. During

421Rodríguez Álvarez, Usos y costumbres funerarias en la Nueva España, 94-95.

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the years 1734-1743, 44 percent of youth and adults were buried with a vigil, mass, and

high cross procession, indicating the community’s preference for baroque Catholicism.

Circumstances changed a couple of decades after the establishment of the Diocese of

Monterrey. During the years 1795-1804, a mere 9 percent of youth and adults were

buried with a vigil, singing of a high mass, and use of a high cross in procession.

Years Number of Deaths (excluding children)

Number of Funerals with Vigil, Mass, and High Cross Procession

Number of Wills

1734-1743

336 147 (44%) 23 (6.8%)

1795-1804

1,118 100 (9%) 79 (7.1%)

Table 7: Number of Deaths, Elaborate Funerals, and Wills, 1734-1743 and

1795-1804

Conclusion

The methodologies of local and lived religion seek to understand the everyday

ways that elite and ordinary people live out their religious, cultural, and familial

commitments in a local context. From the wealthy patrons to hard-working farmers, and

from high-ranking local clerics to business-savvy widows, testators come from a large

swath of colonial society. The colonial will offers a unique vista into the interplay

between official Catholicism and local variations. The residents of colonial Monterrey,

situated far away from religious center of New World Catholicism, maintained traditional

baroque funerals and burials throughout the eighteenth century even at a time of

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unprecedented change. However, a noticeable shift occurs among a minority of testators

in the second half of the eighteenth century.

Once the Diocese of Linares was established, the requests for funerals without

pomp accelerated, testators were less likely to offer bread, wine, and wax at their

funerals, and reineros were more likely to have a “simple” funeral. A move away from

baroque Catholicism and toward a reform version of the faith emerged among the clerical

elite in Mexico City and Veracruz beginning in the mid-eighteenth century and supported

by Bourbon officials. Late eighteenth and early nineteenth-century Bourbon reforms

radically altered burial by displacing parish churches in favor of civil cemeteries as final

resting places for the dead. Enlightened clerics railed against traditional, ostentatious

rituals and argued for simplicity and humility. Perceived ethnicity and socioeconomic

standing greatly affected the kind of funeral and burial given to honor the dead. Yet even

among those who could afford an ornate funeral, there was pushback against the

traditional. The simple and humble funeral and burial emerged as indicative of this new

piety. Although more testators opposed funeral pomp and ceremony as the eighteenth

century progressed, they did not completely opt out of traditional baroque funerals and

burial practices. They still asked to be buried in the parish church in an ideal location

wearing a Franciscan habit. They remained steadfast in their desire for saintly

intercession to assist them in their hour of judgment. In chapter four we will see that

testators still remained highly involved with baroque fixtures of their faith, requesting for

masses to be said, making foundations, joining confraternities, and giving pious gifts.

However, even among so many continuities, change had already began to take shape.

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CHAPTER 4: CONTINUITIES AND CHANGES IN COLONIAL PIETY

Sickness fell upon María Guadalupe Alanís in the winter of 1808.422 Sensing the

nearness of her death, she made the decision to declare her last will and testament. Like

other testators, she pleaded for her grave sins to be forgiven, for her soul be placed on the

“path of salvation,” and for the “sovereign queen of the angels, Mary Our Most Holy

Lady, and mother of sinners” to intercede on her behalf. After requesting burial in the

parish church wearing a Franciscan habit, she asked for three masses to be said for her

soul. She told her scribe to record the giving of two reales as mandatory alms, a required

charitable gift. Additionally, she entrusted Ygnacio de Melo, her son and a priest, to say

five low masses for her during the week of Nuestra Señora de Dolores for the rest of his

life. Normally, priests or seminarians would celebrate masses for the dead to support

themselves financially. However, no fee was associated with these particular masses,

indicating that Ygnacio probably would said these pro bono for his mother. These masses

had three intentions. They were to benefit the eternal rest of María Guadalupe’s soul and

that of her husband as well as the blessed souls in purgatory. She had married a widower,

Juan José Melo, and the fruits of their marriage produced eight children of which two

were deceased at the time of the writing of her will. Neither she nor her husband came

from money. When they exchanged their marriage vows, Juan José owned a horse and a

saddle and María Guadalupe did not have a dowry.

María Guadalupe had accumulated a small house on a plot of land where she

lived. At some earlier point her husband was involved in a lawsuit (pleito) concerning the

house they lived in, but she clarified that the payments made to settle the lawsuit came

422 AHM, Testamento de María Guadalupe Alanís, 17 Febrero 1808, Prot., vol. 28, vol. 4, f. 0.

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from assets earned as a married couple rather than by only him. This statement was

intended to mean that the house rightfully belonged to her now that he was deceased. The

house sat on a central location, on the street leading to the cathedral and the main plaza.

Part of the land was partitioned off and given to her husband’s eldest son as his

inheritance. Her husband’s second son also received an inheritance, albeit smaller,

amounting to “some unnamed things” (algunas cosas). He yielded his remaining

inheritance, preferring his father’s second family to retain the goods for their use. To

clear her conscience, the elderly testator even declared that if they demanded something

else, she and her children would satisfy their demands in order to avoid a dispute. She

surely did not want to go to her grave worried about conflict in the family.

María Guadalupe’s will demonstrates a couple of key points associated with pious

bequests and disposition of assets. First, not all testators were financially well off. She

owned a small house and everything inside of it, yet not much else. She did not come

from a family of privilege and seems to have been supported in her old age by her fifth

son, Ygnacio.423 When Juan José died, the priest paid off his father’s debts and made

improvements to his mother’s house, the house that he would inherit. The remaining

children would share whatever household goods were inside the house, presumably

cooking ware, simple furniture, and personal clothes. Still, she had a house and could

afford the Franciscan habit, and a will with 12 clauses, indicating that she was far from

destitute. Secondly, despite her humble background, she still found a way to participate in

baroque Catholicism, yet her limited access to resources resulted in just a few masses and

lacked the kind of flashiness associated with traditional baroque funerals. What she

423 Her fourth surviving son, as her first son had already died.

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lacked in purchase power was made up by her son who could honor her with low masses

for the rest of her life. Both the sitz-im-leben of early nineteenth century Catholicism in

Mexico and her relative poverty assured a humble burial, funeral, and pious works, yet

her story accentuates the importance of personal relationships and connections in baroque

Catholicism. María Guadalupe’s will, then, allowed her to prepare her soul for cleansing

in purgatory and avoid conflict among family members on earth.

The Third Part of the Testament: Body of the Will

Chapter three analyzed funeral piety and demonstrated that reineros preferred

simple funerals and burials rather than ornate, expensive ones as the eighteenth century

progressed. Even wealthy testators who could have asked for ornate funerals refused

pomp and extravagance, opting for a humble funeral consistent with Franciscan ideals

and reform piety. Although simple funerals were in vogue, Franciscan burial shrouds also

highlighted a concern for humility. The aspiration for humility played well in

northeastern Mexico given its Franciscan influence coupled with economic struggles.

With the exception of a few prominent families, most reineros owned rather modest

estates. Wealthy testators, by contrast, owned a house in town and another one on their

haciendas with hundreds or even thousands of animals, fertile land with access to water,

and slaves.424 Many testators owned a small house on a plot of land and a few animals.

Some testators, however, rented animals and land. Regardless of their holdings, baroque

424 In wills most slaves were of African origin or mixed ancestry. For more on the use of

indigenous slaves in northeastern Mexico, see Cuello, “The Persistence of Indian Slavery and Encomienda in the Northeast of Colonial Mexico,” 683-700.

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Catholics spent a considerable amount on their funerals and pious works. Testators

invested considerable sums to be mourned, celebrated, and remembered. Spanish law

limited the amount a testator could give to benefit his or her soul at one-fifth (quinto) so

that the heirs would have a share in most of the inheritance.

This chapter analyzes the third part of the testament, the body of the will, and sets

up the final chapter, which is devoted to the last two parts of a will, the distribution of

assets among family members and the work of the executors. Testators had the two-fold

concern of assuring help for their souls and designating who received the assets they left

behind. Wills generally prioritized gifts to the church and other pious entities before

detailing gifts to the family, though the order of these were often mixed as the will

progressed. After the preamble, the first couple of clauses focused on the testator’s soul

and requests concerning the testator’s funeral and burial. Space was then allotted to

enunciate the testator’s pious works, which aimed to benefit not only the soul but also the

community. Pious works included masses for the dead, novenas, and charitable gifts.

Wealthy testators were especially prone to offer gifts to adorn the parish church, convent,

and local chapels. When requesting masses for their souls, testators either asked for a

round number or a symbolic number of masses. In this chapter I argue that many

traditional baroque practices remained a mainstay throughout much of the eighteenth

century in Monterrey. Most late eighteenth-century testators remained committed to

asking for masses and making charitable gifts just as generations before them. However,

in the late eighteenth century there was a noticeable shift away from a multitude of

masses coupled with decreases in pious bequests and charitable gifts per testator. These

changes indicate a significant change in the external nature of colonial Catholicism in

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Monterrey, at least among the “testamentary class.” What emerged, then, was a hybrid, a

kind of local Catholicism that retained certain practices aligned to internal piety and

rejected others aligned to external piety.

Outside of wills, there are many historical documents that indicate the importance

of pious giving. These benefited a range of causes that reineros deemed important. Most

documents concern gifts to family members in the form of houses, land, water rights, and

animals. However, some documents describe pious giving. Israel Cavazos Garza has

demonstrated that one of the oldest documents in the Archivo Histórico de Monterrey is a

donation of part of a local mine to purchase a house for poor women and girls complete

with altars to Nuestra Señora de la Anunciación and the Virgin’s parents, Saints Anne

and Joachim.425 Family members frequently supported their relatives who sought

ordination. In 1803, Manuel de Sada, an alcalde ordinario, and his two sons, José María

de Sada and Matías de Sada, agreed to support Manuel’s nephew, Fermín de Sada, in his

quest for religious education leading to ordination.426 They gave him 200 pesos annually

to offset his living expenses. Fermín would later become a priest in the parish church and

serve as an executor for his late uncle’s estate with his cousins.427 Patrons not only

supported their family members who sought religious ordination, but they also leaned on

those members of the family to celebrate masses, serve as executors, or be witnesses of

their wills after they became ordained into the priesthood.428

425 See Cavazos Garza, Controversias Sobre Jurisdicción Espiritual Entre Saltillo y Monterrey

1580-1652, 7. For the actual document, see AHM, Donación de 30 varas de minas, 1 Noviembre 1599, Prot., vol. 1, f. 2, no. 1.

426 AHM, Donación para ordenación religiosa, 11 Julio 1803, Prot., vol. 26, exp. 65, f. 0. 427 AHM, Testamento de Manuel de Sada, 4 Abril 1814, Prot., vol. 29, exp. 93, f. 0. 428 “Do ut des” patronage comes to mind. The Latin expresses, “I give in order that you may give.”

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In addition to wills, notaries and scribes record reineros donating assets to specific

beneficiaries. The colonial document described specific donations made without the

traditional language and structure found in colonial wills. In 1714, Francisco de la

Calancha y Valenzuela, an ecclesiastical judge, interim governor of the kingdom in 1681,

and commissioner of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, made a substantial donation for

the purpose of establishing a Jesuit college once they arrived to Monterrey.429 His hefty

donation consisted of his entire estate, totaling more than 1,000 cows, 1,200 goats, 25

yokes of oxen with harnesses for 15 of them, 60 tamed oxen, 7 donkeys, 14 plots of land

for large animals, and three plots designated for small animals. The wealthiest of

reineros—consisting of those who held large estates with significant government offices,

their widows and daughters who relied on their business acumen and social networks to

create more wealth, and high-ranking church officials—gave away a significant amount

of wealth as pious bequests. The culture of giving pious gifts extended well beyond that

of last wills and testaments and many such gifts probably escaped the historical record,

yet it finds its most prevalent expression in wills.

Like Vovelle and Hoffman, I define pious bequest as any request for masses and

donations made to the church and the poor.430 Much can be gleaned about life through the

study of practices associated with death, especially concerning religion. I do not classify

gifts to family members or close friends as pious bequests. However, gifts made to

orphans and widows, for example, were included as in the category of pious bequest

429 AHM, Donación de ganado, 1 Febrero 1714, Prot., vol. 10, exp. 1, f. 96 vto., no. 50. 430 Vovelle and Hoffman studied piety in eighteenth-century France. See Michel Vovelle, Piété

baroque et déchristianisation en Provence au XVIIIe siècle: Les attitudes devant la mort d'après les clauses de testaments (Paris: Seuil, 1973); Philip T. Hoffman, “Pious Bequests in Wills: A Statistical Analysis,” Social Science Working Paper 393 (1981): 1-73; and Philip T. Hoffman, “Wills and Statistics: Tobit Analysis and the Counter Reformation in Lyon,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 14 (1984): 813-834.

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since the motivation seems to be distinct. Reform Catholic piety, in fact, encouraged

testators to make charitable gifts as a sign of their inner devotion. Pious bequests were

intended to have a beneficial effect for both the testator and his or her community.

Whether through notarial stock phrases or personal expressions of piety, testators made

known their attitude toward death and the hereafter. Yet it must be stressed that pious

bequests were carried out in the community and fulfilled several meaningful functions

therein. From the night vigil to masses for the dead, seasons of mourning and

remembrance brought the deceased’s family members and friends together. Seamstresses

sewed burial garments in their homes. Executors were selected from their families and

close friends. These individuals carried on the memory of the deceased by ensuring that

pious work would continue long after the deceased’s passing. Priests gained much of

their earnings by celebrating masses for the dead and sometimes received gifts, such as

clerical vestments. The church and convent received adornments for the veneration of the

saints, gifts to carry on the daily mass, endowments for chapels, and images. Local

confraternities were involved in planning processions for the dead, rallying members to

provide moral and financial support. Even the destitute of society from time to time

received financial support from the recently departed. Pious bequests, therefore, provided

many “this-worldly” effects that brought the community together and provided social,

moral, and economic support during a volatile time.

The Piety of the Mass

Testators expressed their piety through making suffrages, a word from the Latin

for “supplications” or “prayers.” Aquinas had explained how suffrages of the living

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profited those in purgatory.431 Suffrages consisted of performing pious works (obras

pías) and making charitable gifts. According to one sixteenth-century Spanish humanist,

echoing Aquinas’ idea that “one man can be assisted by the merits of another,” suffrages

were “the work of one or many persons done in the true spirit of love, or at least

containing sufficient grace to pay for part or all of the debt of a neighbor.”432 The

communal aspect of piety was especially important in baroque Catholicism. The

communion of saints worked together to merit grace, bringing about salvation. Each had

a role to play. The suffrage par excellence was the mass, which aimed to benefit souls on

earth and those in purgatory. Praying, fasting, and almsgiving were other suffrages, yet

these were often combined with the mass to merit sufficient grace and meet cultural

expectations, according to a testator’s socioeconomic status. The mass remained the most

prevalent of pious works in eighteenth-century wills.

Official Catholicism, as pronounced at the Council of Trent, affirmed the high

value placed on the mass. Without it, there was no salvation.433 As the central ritual of

the Catholic Church, the mass reenacted the sacrificial work of Christ and functioned as a

means of grace, yet there was a hierarchy of masses. When celebrated on days of

obligation, such as Sundays and feast days, masses were deemed more important than

daily masses. Official edicts were read after mass, especially on Sundays and feast days

due to high attendance.434 After the Sunday mass, social networks were solidified through

431 Aquinas, Summa Theologica Vol. 3, Supplement to the Third Part, Q. 71, 2843-2858. 432 Alejo Venegas, Agonía del transito de la muerte con avisos y consuelos que cerca della con

provechos (1536). Escritores místicos españoles, ed. Miguel Mir, vol. I (Madrid: Bailly-Baillière, 1911), 139 as quoted in Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 174.

433 This statement pronounced during session 22 echoes Cyprian’s dictum, extra ecclesiam nulla salus, “outside the church there is no salvation.”

434 AHM, “Medición y pago de tierra,” 20 Enero 1731, Prot., vol. 12, f. 156, no. 67.

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conversations in a rare time off from work. Although the lofty theological

pronouncements concerning the theological aspects of the mass escaped the ordinary

parishioner, the laity clearly internalized the importance of the ritual. The laity were not

mere bystanders at the Tridentine mass. They participated through ritualized gestures

such as standing, kneeling, and bowing, and many probably recited their rosaries.435 They

recited the creed, heard the responsorial psalms and Scripture, and had spiritual

communion.436

The Tridentine mass could take different forms depending on the occasion and

purpose. The most elaborate form was the high mass or solemn high mass (Spanish misa

solemne; Latin missa solemnis). The high mass was celebrated by a priest who chanted

the missal and accompanied by a deacon and a subdeacon who were responsible for their

parts. The high mass featured Gregorian chant and a heavy use of incense, bells, candles,

and gestures. It was commonly celebrated on Sundays and holy days of obligation in

places where there were sufficient ministers present. Notaries do not employ the term

misa solemne, opting instead for terms such as misa de cuerpo presente and misa

cantada. In his 1739 closed will, the wealthy testator Luis García de Pruneda asked for a

morning funeral mass (misa de cuerpo presente), and if the day happened to be on a

double feast, then his body would be accompanied by priests and religious men.437

435 Bossy remarks, “It does not seem unreasonable to suppose that many attenders would have

marked the transition from sacrifice to sacrament by saying their Paternosters at the same time as the priest, and they certainly participated, if still present, in the ceremony of the Pax; at the end of the mass they knelt to receive the priest’s blessing, which was felt to convey to them its salutary protection.” John Bossy, “The Mass as a Social Institution 1200-1700,” Past and Present 100 (1983): 36.

436 At least, they possibly heard the priest, who would have had his back towards them as he faced the altar. By spiritual communion, I mean they would have witnessed the host and wine being made the body and blood of Christ through transubstantiation. The priests would have taken the bread and wine at mass daily, but the laity probably would have received it at least once a year if not a few times a year.

437 AHM, Testamento Cerrado dejado en Monterrey con el Gobernador Don Antonio Fernández de Jáuregui, 24 Octubre 1739, Civil, vol. 67, exp. 12.

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Outside of Monterrey, Nicolas de los Santos Coy planned for an ornate funeral in Villa de

San Carlos in 1789. His funeral was complete “with the accompaniment of three

religious, a cross, candles, seven processional stops, a vigil, and a funeral mass with its

subsequent novena and honors.”438 The number of religious signal his desire for a high

mass to be celebrated at his funeral.

In contrast, the low mass (Spanish misa rezada; Latin missa lecta) was simplified

with fewer gestures and candles. One priest “read,” hence its Latin name, rather than

chanted his parts. This mass was celebrated throughout the week, remembering the saints

according to the liturgical calendar. Many testators asked for low masses, especially

following their burial. In addition to his funeral mass and vigil, Luis García de Pruneda’s

closed will instructed that all of the local priests and men religious say two low masses

for his soul.439 A decade later his son-in-law, Manuel Fernández Riancho Villegas, the

son of peninsulars who at this time served as the commander of the town’s Spanish

infantry, asks for as many priests and religious that were available to say a low mass for

his soul “without pomp and vanity.”440 This statement was echoed by his wife who was

Luis García de Pruneda’s daughter, Leonor, in her poder despite inheriting almost 20,000

pesos from her deceased parents.441 Paradoxically, the couple wanted to benefit from the

mass celebrated by as many priests and religious as possible, yet they wanted to assume

438 AHM, Testamento de Nicolás de los Santos Coy, 6 Febrero 1789, Prot., vol. 20, exp. 1, f. 291,

no. 158. 439 AHM, Testamento Cerrado dejado en Monterrey con el Gobernador Don Antonio Fernández de

Jáuregui, 24 Octubre 1739, Civil, vol. 67, exp. 12. 440 AHM, Se confiere poder a doña Leonor García de Pruneda, 10 Agosto 1748, Prot., vol. 15,

exp. 1, f. 26, no. 15. 441 AHM, Se confiere poder a Manuel Fernández Riancho Villegas para testar, 4 Septiembre 1755,

Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 332, no. 149.

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an aura of humility.442 Along with his request to be buried “like a poor person,” José

Cantú offered alms of two pesos for a low mass said at the Altar de las Ánimas in the

parish church.443 In addition to cash payments, masses were also paid in goods and

services. For the “good and suffrage” of his soul, Juan Bautista Cavazos offered two days

of water in the hacienda of Santo Domingo to pay for two low masses.444

A third form of the Tridentine mass was a hybrid of the first two. In the sung mass

(Spanish misa cantada; Latin missa cantata) a priest chanted his parts with the help of

acolytes but without a deacon or subdeacon. In their absence these parts were generally

performed by the choir or an acolyte. Although testators generally asked for low or sung

masses, the sung mass could be quite diverse, ranging for elaborate versions that required

the singing of several responses to rather simple versions.445 It is possible that testators

meant “high mass” with misa cantada, as the primary difference between a high mass and

a sung mass are the number of officiants. Because of this uncertainty, I generally render

misa cantada as sung mass rather than high mass, since testators usually do not indicate

the precise number of priests. Not leaving open the possibility that his wishes would be

misunderstood, José Antonio Lozano asked for a mass to be sung by only one priest at his

funeral with no hint of other ministers, distinguishing this form from a high mass.446

Juana Josefa Muñoz’s authorized her late husband’s will after his death and asked for his

442 Alma Victoria Valdés notes that 23 percent of testators in Saltillo from 1800 to 1805 requested

humble burials, yet paradoxically they often requested a de cruz alta burial. Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 109.

443 AHM, Testamento de José Cantú, 28 Noviembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 130 vto., no. 59. 444 AHM, Testamento de Juan Bautista Cavazos, 1 Junio 1784, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 245, no.

123. 445 For more, see Julio Retamal Ávila, Testamentos de “Indios” en Chile Colonial, 1564-1801

(Santiago: Ril Editores/Universidad Andrés Bello, 2000), 51-52. 446 AHM, Testamento de José Antonio Lozano, 17 Noviembre 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 96,

no. 42.

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remains to be moved to the parish church in Monterrey.447 She said that her husband had

died in the town of San Juan del Río and was subsequently buried there “with a sung

mass, offered with wax, bread, and wine on the thirteenth of September of this present

year.”

Despite the formulaic outline imposed on the colonial will, colonial testators

found ways to make their wills unique by requesting a symbolic number of masses. The

numbers three, seven, 12, 40, and 50 are replete with significance in the Bible and in

Christian theology. Three was symbolic of the Trinity and the resurrection “on the third

day.” María Guadalupe Alanis asked for three masses for her soul, offering two reales for

each mass.448 Francisca Javiera de Elizondo brought into her marriage 14 hours of water

with its corresponding land in San Juan Bautista in the valley of Salinas, located some 20

miles northeast of Monterrey.449 She requested three low masses to be said for her soul

and her husband’s costing one peso annually. These masses would be funded by charging

three pesos to rent her inherited water access and land for more than a half of a day.

Testators asked for 12 masses in honor of the 12 apostles. Tomasina González, a widow

originally from Monterrey but who later moved to San Pedro de Boca de Leones,

requested 12 low masses to be celebrated in addition to her funeral mass.450 In 1797,

Bachiller Juan José Domingo Guerra, a priest, left a pension to his three sister to pay for

12 low masses to be celebrated annually on the third and twelfth days of the each month

447 AHM, Testamento de José Fernández Fajardo, 26 Octubre 1744, Prot., vol. 14, exp. 1, f. 88

vto., no. 37. 448 AHM, Testamento de María Guadalupe Alanís, 17 Febrero 1808, Prot., vol. 28, exp. 4, f. 0. 449 AHM, Testamento de doña Francisca Javiera de Elizondo, 17 Febrero 1785, Prot., vol. 19, exp.

1, f. 261, no. 131. 450 AHM, Testamento de Tomasina González, 5 Diciembre 1710, Prot., vol. 9, exp. 1, f. 280, no.

109.

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in honor of San Francisco Javier and Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe.”451 The significance

of the “third day” is more specific than simply a veiled reference to the resurrection,

however. St. Francis Xavier died on 3 December 1552, so the third of December marks

his feast day. Likewise, the twelfth goes beyond the 12 apostles, since traditional date of

image of the Virgin of Guadalupe was revealed to archbishop Zumárraga on 12

December 1531 with its subsequent feast day held on that date. Bachiller Juan José

Domingo Guerra stipulated these masses to be celebrated in the chapel of Santa Rita in

Monterrey on the altar of San Francisco Javier. To prepare for these masses, he donated

priestly vestments and objects to celebrate the mass in addition to an image of St. Francis

Xavier. The number seven was emblematic of the creation week, symbolizing

completion. Teodora de Aguirre wanted seven masses said for her to various devotions,

including the chapel of Santo Cristo in nearby Saltillo.452 Ignacio Botello’s last will was

highly symbolic in that it combined a multiple of seven with the number 50, marking the

number of days between Passover and Pentecost.453 He expressed a desire for 49 low

masses said to benefit his soul and one sung mass, for a total of 50 masses. Captain Diego

de Iglesias y Santa Cruz left funds for masses to be said in Mexico City, 50 on the Altar

del Perdón and another 50 at San Juan de Letrán of whose confraternity he was a

member.454 A close reading of wills indicates a certain level of individuality and thought

put into the requests for masses for the dead.

451 AHM, Testamento del Bachiller Juan José Domingo Guerra, 6 Diciembre 1797, Prot., vol. 23,

exp. 1, f. 233 vto., no. 124. 452 AHM, Testamento de doña Teodora de Aguirre, 9 Junio 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 51, no.

24. 453 AHM, Testamento de Ignacio Botello, 1 Marzo 1660, Prot., vol. 9, exp. 4, f. 1. 454 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Diego de Iglesias y Santa Cruz, 16 Febrero 1720, Prot., vol. 11,

exp. 1, f. 144, no. 46.

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Other masses, such as the funeral mass, votive mass, and novena of masses, took

one of the Tridentine forms. A requiem mass, or mass for the dead (misa de réquiem o

misa solemne de difuntos), was celebrated for the repose of the deceased’s soul. This type

of mass was celebrated at the funeral with the body present (misa con cuerpo presente) or

later. An eighteenth century rubric from Spain conveyed the official church’s prohibition

against holding private masses for the dead on the most sacred of days, such as Corpus

Christi, Ash Wednesday, Easter, and Christmas.455 On the first day of the month and

every Monday except during lent, the official church commended time to be set aside

time for the suffrage of the souls in purgatory. This explains why some testators single

out Monday as a day for their perpetual masses.456 Masses for the dead were celebrated

during the daytime hours between prime and vespers, or seven in the morning and six in

the evening.457 On 23 October 1724, the Castilian Juan Muñoz de Herrera expressed in

his closed will that his funeral should occur in the morning so that enough time would be

available “to say a mass with the body present with a vigil, responses, and everything else

that is according to custom and if it is not at the expressed hour, say another mass

between the funeral and the burial.”458 Many testators repeated this request. On the day

following his burial, Juan Muñoz de Herrera’s fifth clause called for “a novena of sung

masses with doubles and responses” in the parish church. His estate would pay the alms

455 Fermín de Irayzos, Instrucción acerca de las rubricas generales del Misal, ceremonias de la

misa rezada, y cantada, Oficios de Semana Santa, y de otros días especiales del año: con un índice copiosísimo de decretos de la Sagrada Consagración de Ritos, y algunas notas para su mejor inteligencia (Madrid: En la Imprenta de Pedro Marín, 1777), 295.

456 Cf. AHM, Testamento del Bachiller José Alejandro de la Garza, 1 Septiembre 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 200, no. 109.

457 Theodosio de Herrera y Bonilla, Práctica de las ceremonias de la misa rezada y cantada solemne, según las rubricas del misal romano (Valencia: Joseph y Thomas de Orga, [1701] 1785), 127.

458 AHM, Testamento de don Juan Muñoz de Herrera, 23 Octubre 1721, Prot., vol. 11, exp. 1, f. 170, no. 59.

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as outlined in the arancel. The following clause requested another novena with sung

masses and vigils, but he clarified that he wanted the mass said “with a vigil each one of

the nine days.” Five days later, the testator was found dead on a rug near the bed where

he had just declared his will.459

In 1703, Licenciado Joseph Martínez Guajardo, a parish priest originally from

Saltillo, requested burial in the Franciscan convent in Monterrey.460 He asked for a mass

to be said “with his body present” along with an offering of bread and wine. Church

rubrics called for the votive mass (misa votiva), a mass for the intercession of a saint, to

occur at a specific time, such as one for the Virgin Mary on Saturdays or St. Michael on

his feast day.461 The local parish was responsible for the type of mass, and testators

expressed their devotion to the saints by funding local feasts in their honor. One popular

request made by testators was for a novena of masses. A novena referred to a nine-day

period of prayer and devotion to God or an intercessory saint for a special intention.

Novenas, however, can also refer to a prayer guide in which prayers were said for nine

days. These prayers were often said in front of a saint’s image, if available. Rafael José

Verger y Suau, the second bishop of the diocese, issued a novena in 1788 to promote the

Marian cult in Monterrey, Nuestra Señora del Roble. The novena provided an indulgence

of 40 days, another symbolic number, for anyone who prayed each of the nine days.

Nearly one-third of testators asked for novenas after their death in order to lessen their

time in purgatory.

459 AHM, Certificación de defunción de don Juan Muñoz de Herrera, 28 Octubre 1721, Prot., vol.

11, exp. 1, f. 167, no. 58. 460 AHM, Testamento del Lic. José Martínez Guajardo, 22 Diciembre 1703, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f.

214, no. 104. 461 Irayzos, Instrucción acerca de las rubricas generales del Misal, 10.

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There existed quite a bit of variety in terms of novenas. There were stand-alone

novenas said or sung after the funeral and there were novenas attached to a chaplaincy.

For example, Gregorio Sánchez Navarro established a chaplaincy in 1776 to say three

novenas yearly.462 Some testators were open as to how many novenas would be said

following their death. Doña Josefa Montes de Oca intended to have at least one but

possibly two novenas to be said in the parish church, where she requested burial next to

her husband.463 She asked for another one to be said in the Franciscan convent. However,

other testators knew exactly how many they wanted celebrated. Novenas were often

dedicated to a particular saint for intercession. Sargento Mayor Antonio López de

Villegas left 200 pesos in his testament to say a novena of masses dedicated to Nuestra

Señora de los Dolores and for her feast-day celebration at the Jesuit College of San

Francisco Javier.464

Christians have long honored and remembered the dead. Some early Christians

even ate meals (refrigerium) on their graves. Masses for the dead (misa de difuntos) arose

in the medieval church as a means to remember the departed and eventually assist them

in purgatory. The post-funeral mass for the dead proliferated in the Middle Ages as a

misa privada, a “private mass” without parishioners present. Rubrics upheld the long-

standing custom of remembering the dead at certain points in time. The laity were

instructed to ask for a mass for the dead on the third, seventh, and thirtieth day after death

in addition to the one-year anniversary. Most testators also requested perpetual masses to

462 AHM, Se confiere poder a Melchor Núñez relativo a la clavería del Obispado, 19 Junio 1792,

Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 294 vto., no. 165. 463 AHM, Testamento de doña Josefa Montes de Oca, 8 Febrero 1720, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1, f. 99,

no. 46. 464 AHM, Testamento de Sargento Mayor Antonio López de Villegas, 12 Junio 1723, Prot., vol.

11, exp. 1, f. 251, no. 96.

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be celebrated apart from their funerals to benefit their souls and the souls of their loved

ones. In Monterrey, 54 percent of testators requested additional masses, and of these,

about 43 percent also offered masses for other souls. Testators who desired perpetual

masses established chaplaincies in the parish church, convent, or local chapel.

Legacies and Chaplaincies

In the Middle Ages, a heightened concern for particular judgment and impending

purgatory nurtured the idea of celebrating masses for the dead. Chaplaincies

(capellanías), also known as chantries or foundations, and confraternities (cofradías)

emerged as two avenues to prepare for the hereafter and facilitate the good death.

Perpetual masses remembered the dead throughout the year and were typically overseen

by a designated chaplain who received a stipend for his services. Legacies (legados), or

gifts, were also made to finance the saying of masses for the dead, but these gifts were

much smaller than the funds required for establishing a chaplaincy. Doña María Nicolasa

de Treviño made a legacy with 500 pesos placed into a fund that generated 5 percent

interest, or 25 pesos annually.465 The commission (Comisario del Santo Oficio, Cura

Oficio, Cura Vicario y Juez Eclesiástico) that collected her funds then loaned the money

out to José Miguel Lozano, a businessman in Monterrey, who paid the interest fee. The

interest money supported the cult of Nuestra Señora de los Dolores as per Doña María

Nicolasa’s request. Two pesos were given for each of the 12 masses to be said yearly as

an honorarium to the priest who celebrated the mass and for supplies used during the

465 AHM, Se obliga a pagar deuda, 14 Septiembre 1770, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 137, no. 73.

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ritual. The extra peso went to the sacristan, according to Doña María’s wishes, “for the

special dedication he has for the said altar.” On the last Friday of each month a low mass

would be celebrated at its altar in the parish church for the benefit of Doña María

Nicolasa’s life and her soul after her death. A less affluent testator, Juan Bautista

Cavazos, made a perpetual legacy offering two days of land with access to water at his

hacienda for two low masses each year.466 For larger amounts of masses for the dead to

be said over a period of time, testators established chaplaincies.

Gisela Von Wobeser’s study of eighteenth-century chaplaincies in Mexico City

reveals that most were founded as ecclesiastical chaplaincies rather than as lay

chaplaincies, translating into two-thirds of her sample supported beneficed clergy rather

than clerical students.467 Lay chaplaincies, on the other hand, tended to support clerical

students who as deacons and subdeacons were studying for full priesthood. Priests and

religious made up about half of those who established chaplaincies in her study. Lastly,

Von Wobeser concludes that far more chaplaincies were established by contracts rather

than wills. More work needs to be done on chaplaincies in colonial Monterrey, yet my

preliminary study on the topic reveals, at least, a partial understanding. In colonial

Monterrey, 18 percent of testators in my sample established a chaplaincy. A chaplaincy

functioned much in the same way as the aforementioned legacy by Doña María Nicolasa

de Treviño. However, chaplaincies required more capital, and the funds were paid to the

office responsible for wills, chaplaincies, and pious works (Juzgado de Testamentos,

Capellanías, y Obras Pías). Doña María Leonor Gómez de Castro requested two novenas

466 AHM, Testamento de Juan Bautista Cavazos, 1 Junio 1784, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 245, no.

123. 467 Von Wobeser, Vida eterna y preocupaciones terrenales, 21, 74-75, 113.

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of masses in the parish church, one said and one sung, and two more to be celebrated

similarly in the Franciscan convent.468 These masses were in addition to her sung funeral

mass and vigil, 100 low masses on the Altar de Nuestra Señora del Perdón in Mexico

City, and 24 annual masses said by a chaplaincy she established for 4,000 pesos.

Chaplaincies typically generated an interest rate of 5 percent on the principal allocated

for saying masses. Therefore, 4,000 pesos put towards the principal would have yielded

200 pesos. Chaplaincies cost between 2,000 and 6,000 pesos, depending on the number

of masses requested. Brading’s study of colonial Michoacán suggests that 200 pesos a

year could barely be “a sufficient income for subsistence” by the eighteenth century.469

Doña María Leonor’s chaplaincy supported Juan José Paulino de Rumayor, a seminarian

in Mexico City. Thirteen of these masses were for her soul and that of her husband’s. She

explicitly requested that four of these should be celebrated on feast days: the feasts of

Christmas, Holy Trinity, St. Joseph, and St. Anthony. The other 12 masses were intended

for all who worked in her household or done business with her over the years.

The economic elite established chaplaincies (capellanías) in wills and contracts in

order to receive the benefit of prayers like their European ancestors. These prayers were

important theologically as they reduced the amount of time deceased souls spent in

purgatory. In 1748, for example, Manuel Fernández Riacho Villegas, the city’s resident

468 AHM, Testamento de María Leonor Gómez de Castro, 2 Diciembre 1767, Civil, vol. 98, exp.

10, f. 0. 469 Brading writes, “In effect secularisation increased the need for priests with requisite linguistic

ability, a condition which favoured the ordination of Indian candidates. The second great category of priests, equally found since the sixteenth century, were candidates who by reason of family descent or connection possessed chantry endowment sufficient to maintain them without recourse to parochial appointments. The problem here was that historic endowments of 2,000 ps. no longer yielded a sufficient income for subsistence, and that even the annual 200 ps. accruing from 4,000 ps. capellanías, the late-eighteenth century norm, was barely adequate.” Brading, Church and State in Bourbon Mexico, 108.

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military captain, established two chaplaincies, one for 6,000 pesos in principal, which

netted 300 pesos annually in income, and another with 2,000 pesos in principal, gaining

100 pesos. In the thirteenth clause of his poder, or transfer of executive power, Riacho

Villegas’ chaplaincies were to say a total of 75 masses, 50 of which were for all souls, his

wife’s soul, and their parents’ souls, and another 25 for those who died while working for

him. Doña Josefa Francisca Cantú del Río y la Cerda founded a chaplaincy with 4,000

pesos in 1755. The chaplaincy financially supported her son, Francisco Antonio de

Larralde, a deacon in the Diocese of Guadalajara. In return, Francisco was obliged to say

or recruit someone else to say 12 low masses for the soul of his mother on the first

Monday of each month. The aforementioned examples demonstrate that there were other

factors involved in addition to a genuine concern for the soul. Testators demonstrate a

certain amount of financial aptitude, planning ahead to support someone within one’s

social network. Furthermore, testaments offer insights into an entire industry centered on

dying, from the priests who said last rites to the notaries who drew up the testaments, and

from the diocesan office that oversaw wills and testaments to those responsible for burial

and mourning rites.

Although wills express their testator’s request, other colonial documents more

fully describe exactly how chaplaincies worked. One such document from 1701 describes

how a chaplaincy was not only financed by Juana de Treviño y Maya after the death of

husband, Capitán Antonio Leal, but also overseen by her.470 Three years earlier, the

captain gave his wife legal power, asked for burial in the parish church of San Francisco,

470 AHM, Se Instituye y Funda Capellanía de Misas, de Beneficio Eclesiástico, 11 Abr 1701, Prot.,

vol. 22, exp. 13, f. 10.

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and declared his son as his primary heir.471 Evidently, the captain died between the

writing of these two documents. The couple owned a substantial amount of agricultural

land, “four caballerías de tierra” or more than 400 acres that required irrigation to grow

crops (“pan coger”). Juana de Treviño y Maya sold the land with access to the Santa

Catarina River for 650 pesos. She was able to generate another 350 pesos from the sale of

a hacienda and animals. With 1,000 pesos in principal, the fund generated 50 pesos of

common gold in reales each year. The first chaplain selected to say 20 low masses each

year was Juan Sanchez de la Barrera, a student in Guadalajara though originally from the

kingdom. In the event that he could not fulfill his duties, Juana de Treviño stipulated that

her closest nephew should be selected as the new chaplain. The chaplain received a

stipend to say seven of these masses in honor of specific saints on their feast days,

including Purísima Concepción, San José, San Francisco, Santa Ana, San Juan Bautista,

San Antonio de Padua, and San Miguel Arcángel. The remaining 13 masses were to be

said for her soul and the souls of her parents, husband, children, and the rest of their

lineage. A gift of wine, hosts (hostias), and wax accompanied the masses. Finally, Juana

declared herself to be the patroness of the chaplaincy, and when she died, her son from

her first marriage would assume the responsibility. As elsewhere in colonial Mexico,

reineros heavily invested in masses for the dead through legacies and chaplaincies. The

example above demonstrates the considerable assets needed to establish a chaplaincy,

which sought to benefit not only the patron but his or her entire family. Widows with

substantial economic resources often took leadership over the spiritual matters of the

souls of their ancestors and future generations. Additionally, they favored nephews and

471 AHM, Se confiere poder a Juana de Treviño y Maya, 24 Noviembre 1698, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1,

f. 33, no. 5.

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close relatives to participate in such endeavors, providing for their needs as they study for

ordination. The planning for suffrages, giving of legacies, and establishing of

chaplaincies allowed reineros to display agency and voice in their religious lives. Another

way they accomplished this was by joining a lay organization.

Lay Organizations

In precarious times colonial residents turned to religion in both liturgical and

extra-liturgical manifestations. Whereas the official church administered the sacraments,

reineros found ways to participate in pious activities within their communities. Various

lay groups existed in colonial Mexico to fulfill specific functions in society.

Confraternities, sodalities, and the third order were among the lay groups present in

colonial Monterrey. Emerging in Europe during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,

confraternities performed pious acts, distributed charity, and participated in the cult of the

saints. Each local confraternity established its own rules for confreres, or members, and

determined fees for entrance. Many confraternities were founded by those who shared

similar professions. They demonstrated their piety through a variety of means. Generally,

they not only attended funerals for their members and the poor but quite frequently

subsidized them, too. The poor of colonial Mexico were given plain (de balde) funerals

supported by religious confraternities.472 Some donated costly burial habits deemed so

important to facilitate one’s passing through purgatory and on to the beatific vision. They

also gave dowries to poor orphan girls and volunteered to serve the sick and infirmed.

472 Pablo Lacoste, Enrique Cruz, and Carolina Polanco, “Pobres y pobreza en los testamentos

(Reino de Chile, 1585-1641),” Varia Historia 30, no. 54 (2014): 768.

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Family members and members of confraternities, who often helped organize the

processions, accompanied the corpse in procession.473 These lay associations were made

up of those who had a special devotion to a specific saint, so a major function for many

of these groups consisted of planning and financing the annual feast day celebrations in

their local communities. Among their many efforts included inheriting, selling, and

renting assets obtained from donors, with profits going to sponsor the mass, food, and

entertainment of these religious celebrations.

Testators bequeathed assets such as houses, land, water rights, and animals to

finance the work of confraternities. In turn, confraternities used these resources to pay for

masses said on their altars and for celebrations during feast days. Colonial records reveal

that confraternities in Monterrey held extensive assets and functioned much like a bank in

that they loaned funds and resources to generate interest. Colonial confraternities earned

interest from their rented properties and animals and revenue from sold goods. In 1792,

Doña María Concepción Guajardo borrowed 300 pesos in reales from the

archconfraternity of Divinísimo Señor Sacramentado of Monterrey.474 She needed the

funds “to survive and alleviate the emergencies” of her husband, agreeing to pay 5

percent interest per year. She mortgaged a part of an inherited house from her mother

valued at one thousand pesos. Unable to sign her name, her husband signed on her behalf.

473 For more on baroque funeral processions, see Adam Warren, “Medicine and the Dead: Conflicts over Burial Reform and Piety in Lima, 1808-1850,” in Death and Dying in Colonial Spanish America, eds. Martina Will de Chaparro and Miruna Achim (Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 2011), 179-181.

474 AHM, Obligación de pago perteneciente a una Archicofradía, 17 Octubre 1792, Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 312, no. 179.

196

For many reineros, a couple hundred pesos could have taken years to pay off.475 Since at

least the seventeenth century, there were three confraternities located in the Franciscan

convent, the confraternities of the Santísimo Sacramento (Divine Sacrament) and Ánimas

(Souls) or Ánimas de los Naturales (Souls of Nature), and Nuestra Señora del Rosario

(Our Lady of the Rosary). According to Lydia Espinosa Morales, the only confraternity

in the convent open to indigenous members was Ánimas, though it primarily collected

alms for burial.476 Nuestra Señora del Rosario was supported primarily by shepherds, and

the mayordomo of the confraternity was responsible for renting out sheep and goats.

Three confraternities were associated with the parish church, the confraternities of the

Benditas Ánimas del Purgatorio (Blessed Souls in Purgatory), Santísimo Sacramento or

Divinísimo Señor Sacramentado (Divine Sacrament), and San Nicolás de Tolentino. The

latter appears briefly in the records primarily during the 1690s-1710s and then disappears

after 1714.477 Members of Benditas Ánimas prayed for the souls in purgatory and

sponsored masses to be celebrated on their altar in the parish church. Benditas Ánimas

and Santísimo Sacramento gained approval from the Archdiocese of Mexico and were

often described with the title “archconfraternity.”

Given the importance placed on real presence in the Eucharist, the confraternity

of the Santísimo Sacramento was prevalent in colonial churches and convents. The

475 Bernardo Rodríguez de Quiroga, a resident of Monterrey, took 10 years to pay off a loan of 150

pesos en reales to Benditas Ánimas. His debt was finally paid on 14 April 1801. AHM, Obligación de pago perteneciente a una Cofradía, 18 Junio 1791, Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 194, no. 107.

476 Espinosa Morales, “El Convento Franciscano de San Andrés En la Ciudad de Monterrey,” 459. 477 A document from 1697 suggests that the confraternity was involved with the Good Friday

procession. José de Urdiales, a resident of Monterrey, was listed as the mayordomo of the confraternity of San Nicolás de Tolentino and Santo Entierro de Cristo. He leased six pack mules for seven pesos each to Bernabé de Mungia. However, the other references omit “Santo Entierro de Cristo.” See Arrendamiento de mulas, 2 Junio 1697, Prot., vol. 6, exp. 1, f. 63, no. 40.

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faithful were dedicated to the worship of Christ and believed he was really present in the

Eucharist. They organized one of the most important extraliturgical feasts in the colonial

Christian calendar, the feast of Corpus Christi. Bossy has noted that by moving the host

away from the traditional mass in the late medieval period Corpus Christi became “an

extremely popular expression of the unity-seeking motive in late medieval Catholicism,

and ought not to be written off as an imposition of priests and patricians.”478 After

Sunday mass, priests and the laity formed a procession on the streets of Monterrey,

carrying with them a monstrance with the consecrated host in celebration of Corpus

Christi. Given the high volume of people who attended the feast, government officials

urged residents to remain peaceful and solemn.479 Another important feast was the

Immaculate Conception (Purísima Concepción), celebrated on the traditional date of

Virgin’s birth, 8 September, rather than the traditional date of her conception, 8

December. It would be inaccurate to assume that all participants during a religious

festival or pilgrimage acted in accord with high moral standards. More often than not, a

large gathering of people at any event can lead to chaotic circumstances. For example, in

1698 at the feast of the Immaculate Conception, an unknown scandal provoked a number

of residents who were attending a bull fight, a common form of entertainment for the

feast. Pedro Fermín de Echeverz y Subizar attacked his superior, Sargento Mayor Don

Juan Pérez Merino, from behind on 11 June. The result of the attack forced Fermín to

478 Bossy, “The Mass as a Social Institution 1200-1700,” 59. 479 “Monterrey, 18 de mayo de 1720. Por disposición del Gobernador Francisco de Barbadillo y

Victoria, se solicita a todos los vecinos residentes de la ciudad de Monterrey, Valles de Pesquería Grande, Santa Catalina, Pesquería Chica, del Huaxuco, y demás agregados, que tengan toldado o enramado todo el tránsito que atraviese la procesión del Santísimo Sacramento el día de Corpus Christi.” AHM, Autos de buen gobierno 1719-1728, 5 Septiembre 1719, Civil, vol. 46, exp. 13. Also, see AHM, Sobre solemnidad del día de Corpus Christi, [?] 1724, Civil, vol. 51, exp. 9.

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renounce his military position.480

Elite Catholics in urban areas frequently sought membership in several

confraternities. In 1684, the wealthy testator Sargento Mayor Pedro de la Rosa Salinas

left 15 ducados (version of the Spanish ducat) to the confraternity of Santísimo

Sacramento “to gain graces” along with eight mules to pay for oils.481 Sacramental oils

were used in a variety of sacraments, such as baptism, confirmation, and unction, as well

as in the blessing of altars. Additionally, Pedro de la Rosa Salinas left four pesos to each

of the other confraternities in Monterrey, San Nicolás, Nuestra Señora del Rosario and

Tercera Orden. In 1758, José Antonio Rodríguez owed 24 pesos to the archconfraternity

of Santísimo Sacramento and 50 pesos to the Benditas Ánimas.482 These small amounts

suggest membership dues and small loans or promised gifts. Most of the loans handed out

by the confraternities consisted of hundreds or even thousands of pesos. Testators who

were members of confraternities outside of Monterrey bequeathed to them as well.483

Some testators who served as mayordomos, or administrators, of confraternities devoted

space in their wills to clarify who had outstanding debts and alleviate their consciences.

Even though 600 of Capitán Andrés González’s 1300 goats belonged to Ánimas de los

Naturales, he served as the mayordomo for Nuestra Señora del Rosario in the church of

San Francisco.484 As mayordomo, he rented out goats to several residents of Salinas. In

480 AHM, Juicio por agresiones contra don Pedro Fermín de Echeverz y Subizar, 23 Agosto 1698,

Prot., vol. 6, f. 114, no. 68. 481 AHM, Testamento del Sargento Mayor Pedro de la Rosa Salinas, 26 Agosto 1684, Prot., vol.

15, exp. 11, f. 0. 482 AHM, Testamento de José Antonio Rodríguez, 18 Octubre 1758, Prot., vol. 16, exp. 1, f. 55,

no. 24. 483 A few of the confraternities include San Juan de Letrán in Mexico City, Señor San José in Real

de Santiago de las Sabinas, and Santísimo Cristo of Saltillo. 484 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Andrés González, 26 Agosto 1701, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 106v,

no. 43.

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his 1796 will, Bartolomé de la Serna y Alarcón declared that he owed 80 pesos to

Benditas Ánimas and as mayordomo all accounts were in order.485

Whereas confraternities had to receive approval from the official church,

sodalities or “brotherhoods” (hermandades) did not. One such sodality consisted of lay

members who committed themselves to devotions (devociones), often aimed at invoking

one specific saint.486 In order to celebrate the saint’s feast, the devotion had to obtain

permission from the church to collect alms. Lydia Espinosa Morales’ study of the

Franciscan convent of San Andrés uncovered evidence of the following devotions in

colonial Monterrey: Nuestra Señora de Aránzazu, Señor San José San Francisco Javier,

San Antonio de Padua, Santa Ana, Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, and Jesús Nazareno.487

Although confraternities generally had an altar dedicated to their saint in the parish

church or the convent, most of the devotions venerated a unique image found therein. For

example, the image of Jesús Nazareno, or Jesus of Nazareth on the cross, remained in the

parish church except on Good Friday, when it was carried out on a procession. Testators

supported confraternities and devotions alike. In 1773, José Salvador Lozano gave 200

pesos each to the confraternities of Santísimo Sacramento and Benditas Ánimas and the

devotion to Nuestra Señora de los Dolores.488 His gift to the latter functioned as principal

and the interest gained would go on to support an annual mass for Nuestra Señora de los

Dolores at her altar in the parish church.

485 AHM, Testamento de Bartolomé de la Serna y Alarcón, 1 Agosto 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f.

106, no. 64. 486 Asunción Lavrin, “Mundos en contraste: cofradías rurales y urbanas en México a fines del siglo

XVIII,” in La iglesia en la economía de América Latina, siglos XVI al XIX, ed. Arnold J. Bauer (México: Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia), 1986, 237-238.

487 Espinosa Morales, “El Convento Franciscano de San Andrés En la Ciudad de Monterrey,” 459. 488 AHM, Testamento de José Salvador Lozano, 26 Febrero 1773, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 299, no.

32.

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Individual testators signaled their devotion to particular saints through pious

works, such as making charitable gifts to pay for mass or adornment of altars and images.

Devotion to the Virgin was by far the most popular. Nuestra Señora del Nogal or Nuestra

Señora del Roble was the local Marian title associated with the seventeenth-century

apparition to a young girl. For example, Juana de León left 100 pesos in adornments to

the chapel of Nuestra Señora del Nogal.489 Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe and Nuestra

Señora de los Dolores also held prominence among testators. From the fifth (quinto) of

his assets separated for funeral expenses and pious works, General Francisco Ignacio de

Larralde ordered to close off the chapel located at the transept on the right side of the

parish church to make room for an altar to the Santísima Trinidad whereby a monthly

mass would be dedicated to Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe and Benditas Ánimas.490 In

1773, José Salvador Lozano gave 200 pesos to the altar of Nuestra Señora de los Dolores

in the parish church.491 The interest earned from the principal given provided for the

annual mass. A decade later, Doña María Petra Gómez de Castro left 500 pesos in

principal to sing a mass for the soul of her son, Juan José, who died shortly after his

father.492 She allocated funds to erect “an altar to the Divino Rostro and Nuestra Señora

del Refugio” in the parish church and gave enough for an annual mass to each of these

devotions.

489 AHM, Testamento de doña Juana de León, 20 Marzo 1741, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 317, no.

151. 490 AHM, Testamento del Gral. Francisco Ignacio de Larralde, 1 Enero 1748, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1,

f. 281, no. 128. 491 AHM, Testamento de José Salvador Lozano, 26 Febrero 1773, Prot. 17, exp. 1, f. 299, no. 32. 492 AHM, Memoria testamentaria de doña María Petra Gómez de Castro, 19 Mayo 1784, Prot.,

vol. 20, exp. 1, f. 156 vto., no. 101.

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Individual reineros funded feasts at the parish church and the convent. The parish

church celebrated an annual feast known as Santísima Cruz on 3 May. One general

donated 600 pesos in reales placed in a finca segura (secure property), yielding 5 percent

interest, or 30 pesos annually.493 His remarried widow carried on her first husband’s

“perpetual” wishes. The sponsorship funded one sung mass with a sermon, a procession,

and vespers. Although the celebration had been occurring every year since the general’s

death, it was not until 1725 that his widow made a legal document indicating the

arrangement. In 1728, Catarina de Treviño donated a sum of 1,333 pesos to fund a feast

to St. Francis Xavier in the Franciscan convent, which included a mass, sermon, and

vespers. She financially supported the feast by renting out 11 fields of land for ganado

mayor (cattle, horses) and ganado menor (sheep, goats) in village of San Gregorio and

renting out part of an inherited house in Monterrey.494 In the same year, Capitán

Francisco Báez Treviño declared a debt of 661 pesos to the convent for a chaplaincy to

support the feast of St. Francis Xavier.495

In addition to confraternities, the other dominant lay organization in colonial

Monterrey was the Third Order. The secular Third Order of St. Francis consisted of lay

men and women and secular clergy not already bound by a religious order. In 1697, Don

Blas de Arrechederra y Gallarreta left eight cows to build the chapel of the Third Order in

the Franciscan convent.496 However, Sargento Mayor Antonio Lopez de Villegas’s will

493 AHM, Fiesta de la Santísima Cruz, 2 Junio 1725, Prot., vol. 11, f. 301, no. 116. 494 See AHM, Se otorga recibo a favor del Bachiller Pedro Regalado y doña María Báez Treviño,

14 Febrero 1728, Prot. 12, exp. 1, f. 71, no. 29 and AHM, Se otorga recibo a favor de doña María Báez Treviño para fiesta de San Francisco, 16 Febrero 1728, Prot., vol. 12, f. 73, no. 30.

495 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Francisco Báez Treviño, 3 Febrero 1728, Prot., vol. 12, f. 65, no. 27.

496 AHM, Testamento de don Blas de Arrechederra y Gallarreta, 15 Junio 1697, Prot., vol. 6, exp. 1, f. 82, no. 51.

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suggests that the chapel was in disrepair a mere two decades later.497 The secular Third

Order was an obvious choice for the laity since they were often married and thus not

permitted to join a regular order. Many lay men and women were drawn to the core

teachings of St. Francis, namely poverty, humility, and obedience. Given the Franciscan

presence in colonial Monterrey, it is not surprising to encounter many Franciscan

elements in wills. In her will drawn up on 21 November 1703, the doncella María de las

Casas requested burial in a Franciscan habit because she was a member of the Third

Order.498 The prevalence for burial in the Franciscan habit is understood as a symbol of

humility and efficacious for entry into heaven as well as signaled membership, or at least

desire for membership, in the Third Order.499 She owed two pesos to Third Order of

Penitents (Tercera Orden de Penitencia), which were membership fees, indicating that

she put off the payment of these fees until death. Apparently, María was very sick, and on

the next day she died around nine in the morning. The alcalde confirmed that she in fact

died and attended her funeral at 10 a.m. the following day in the parish church. Aside

from the nominal membership fees, a primary funding mechanism for the Third Order

appears to have been chaplaincies and other pious works, netting 5 percent interest for the

lay group. Chaplaincies and other lay organizations were not the only recipients of

charity. The Third Order participated at the funerals of fellow members. Bartolomé de la

497 The testator left eight pesos to the chapel of the Third Order “if it is rebuilt as the intention of

Don Blas de Arrechederra.” AHM, Testamento del Sargento Mayor Antonio López de Villegas, 11 Febrero 1725, Prot., vol. 11, f. 251, no. 6.

498 AHM, Testamento de doña María de las Casas, 21 de Noviembre 1703, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 201 v., no. 101.

499 Will de Chaparro explains the situation in colonial New Mexico: “While it is not surprising that people died owing the Third Order of St. Francis—undoubtedly the most popular religious association in New Mexico—their three pesos in membership dues, some adults in fact waited until after death to join the venerable organization, directing the estate to pay inscription costs.” Will de Chaparro, Death and Dying in New Mexico, 43.

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Serna y Alarcón asked for a humble burial without an elaborate coffin (cajón) for his

corpse, donned with a Franciscan habit.500 Rather, he requested his fellow Third Order

brothers to carry his body in a plain coffin (féretro), placing his corpse on the “naked

earth” the way the poor were buried.

Charitable Gifts

Detachment from one’s assets was essential in order to join the saints in heaven,

or at least get there after a spell in purgatory. Attachment to temporal wealth was viewed

negatively, especially among the Franciscans. Spiritual leaders in the vein of St. Francis

accentuated the words of Jesus, “If you would be perfect, go sell what you possess and

give it to the poor”501 and “Truly, I say to you, it will be hard for a rich man to enter the

kingdom of heaven.”502 Indeed, one of the chief aims of the will was to dispose of one’s

assets, and it was expected that the church would receive something. Philippe Ariès

considered the will as “an insurance policy contracted between the individual and God,

through the intermediary of the Church.”503 In this regard, the will reflected the fine

relationship between the work of salvation and one’s wealth. For Jacques Le Goff, the

will served as a “passport to heaven,” and “guaranteed eternal wealth in the hereafter in

500 The will reads that the testator asked for burial “en la Iglesia Parroquial del Sagrario de la Sta.

Iglesia Catedral de esta Ciudad, con un entierro humilde o como pareciere a mis albaceas; pero si mando que no se haga cajón para mi cuerpo, sino que este sea conducido en el féretro de mis hermanos los terceros de N.P.S. Francisco y después se coloque sobre la desnuda tierra, como se hace con los pobres y amortajado con el hábito del mismo orden seráfico.” AHM, Testamento de Bartolomé de la Serna y Alarcón, 1 Agosto 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 106, no. 64.

501 Matthew 19:21. 502 Matthew 19:23. 503 Ariès, The Hour of Our Death, 190.

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exchange for premiums paid in temporal currency, that is, the pious bequests.”504

Testators gave a range of gifts to support a variety of causes. Some gave gifts of

wax, bread, and wine at their funeral masses. Although he requested a simple burial

(entierro menor), José Antonio Lozano offered two and one-half pounds of wax,

stipulating one pound for the altar, one pound for his tomb (tumba), and a half pound for

the candlesticks used at his funeral in the parish church.505 Each pound would have cost

roughly a peso.506 Reineros were required to give the mandatory alms except the absolute

destitute. Others gave gifts to the poor, especially orphans and widows. One testator even

gave food to those who were incarcerated at the time of her death as a final act of charity.

Some testators who recognized Monterrey’s impoverished education system sought to

improve the lives of students by donating to schools.

Even though all testators were required to give mandatory alms, 88 percent

specifically mention these. The church imposed a small fee to be paid from the estate of

the deceased. Even those who died intestate also had to pay the gift. Mandas forzosas,

typically rendered as “mandatory gifts, bequests, or legacies,” functioned as a death tax

upon all of those who died. It generally required a small charitable gift of a few reales

intended for specific charities. Testators could give more alms, and when they did, they

often identified the intended beneficiaries. The deceased benefited from the spiritual

effects from a post-mortem good work and the charitable cause gained much needed

504 Le Goff, La Civilisation de l’Occident Médiéval, 240 quoted in Eire, From Madrid to

Purgatory, 38. 505 AHM, Testamento de José Antonio Lozano, 17 Noviembre 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 96,

no. 42. 506 Seventy-five pounds of wax in Saltillo cost 84 pesos and three reales, so each pound would

have cost approximately one peso and one real. Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 120.

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revenue. For many testators in Monterrey, the mandatory gift served as the only

charitable gift donated, indicating their meager economic conditions, lack of commitment

to the intended charities, or sense that the required alms was already a sufficient gift.

Monies collected for the mandatory gift supported a range of crown-approved causes,

including beatifications for holy men and women on the path to sainthood, the liberation

of Jerusalem from the control of Muslims, and the Virgin of Guadalupe.

The crown altered the official beneficiaries from time to time. For example,

testators in the 1740s identified gifts to support the beatification of Gregorio López, a

seventeenth-century missionary. For the church to recognize a deceased man or woman

as a canonical saint, the holy man or woman needed advocates here on earth. The push

for López’s canonization began after Philip III read the 1620 biography of the hermit

written by Francisco de Losa. Over time, others joined efforts to promote López. The

mutual testament of General Pedro de Elizondo and his wife, Doña María de la Garza,

written in 1740 allocated money for the mandatory gift with an additional “two reales to

help the canonization of the venerable servant of God, Gregorio López.”507 By 1785,

however, the beatification for Gregorio López was no longer included in the mandatory

gifts. Even though López was never canonized, Rome conferred the title of “venerable”

upon him, a rare title indeed for those from Mexico.

In total, 7 percent of testators gave to the poor. They preferred to distribute money

or food to orphans or widows around the time of their death. Although Capitán Pedro de

la Garza’s 1688 last will made a number of gifts to benefit the souls of the deceased, he

507 This is a mutual will despite the title referring only to the husband. AHM, Testamento del

General Pedro de Elizondo, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 405 vto., no. 186.

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also offered gifts to help the poor.508 As a member of the Confraternity of the Blessed

Souls, de la Garza bequeathed 110 pesos and 178 goats to pay for ornate funeral

processions and burial expenses of other members of his confraternity, but he also

donated eight fanegas (12 bushels) of corn to feed the poor. Juana de León bequeathed

100 pesos to be distributed “among the shame-faced poor.”509 The poor were encouraged

to attend the funeral and accompanied the procession. They would have joined in the

mourning the recently departed, offering up their prayers. General José Lorenzo de

Hoyos Solar y Piedra anticipated 25 shame-faced poor at his funeral, allocating two pesos

each for a total of 50 pesos.510 In 1723, Sargento Mayor Antonio López de Villegas

pledged to give six cows and 12 fanegas (almost 19 bushels) of corn to the poor at the

end of the year of his death.511 Additionally, the poor were to receive other gifts on

specific feast days. For example, on St. Joseph’s day the poor would receive six fanegas

(9 bushels) of beans and six of corn, and on the day of St. Michael they would receive six

cows and 12 fanegas (19 bushels). By giving food away to the poor on feast days, he

functioned as their patron and honored his patron saint. He even ordered that his used

clothes be given to the poor after he died. María Teresa Leal de León designated that for

three days of her nine-day novena food should be given to the incarcerated in the local

jail.512 This pious act was indeed rare as inmates were more likely to be named in

508 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Pedro de la Garza, 19 Octubre 1688, Prot., vol. 4, exp. 1, f. 106,

no. 46. 509 AHM, Testamento de doña Juana de León, 20 Marzo 1741, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 317, no.

151. 510 AHM, Testamento del Gral. José Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra, 26 Agosto 1760, Prot., vol.

16, exp. 1, f. 156, no. 61. 511 AHM, Testamentos del Sargento Mayor Antonio López de Villegas, 12 Junio 1723, Prot., vol.

11, exp. 1, f. 251, no. 96. 512 AHM, Testamento de María Teresa Leal de León, 28 Octubre 1811, Prot. 28, exp. 189, f. 0.

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lawsuits than as recipients of gifts in the colonial record.513

Since most testators were married with living children, they designated their

children and spouses as heirs, often in that order. On a few occasions and much to the

chagrin of Spanish law, the soul and the poor were listed as heirs. In 1703, María de las

Casas, a doncella and member of the Third Order of Penance, named her soul as heir.514

José Miguel Antonio de Umaran from Castile never married.515 His 1793 will forgave

those indebted to him even as it listed his own outstanding debt. Antonio de Umaran

named three heirs: the poor, the blessed souls, and his own soul. Some testators

recognized family members as poor and wanted to help them out. Juan José Duran

designated 200 pesos for his sisters “who were poor doncellas.”516 Other testators sought

to provide dowries to girls who had none. Sargento Mayor Alonso de León provided the

dowry for four girls.517 He stipulated that they be poor, of a Spanish heritage, from a

noble lineage, and from Nuevo Reino de León. Under Spanish law, women retained their

dowries and married testators typically report the exact amount in their wills.

In addition to sponsoring chaplaincies that supported clergy students, a few

testators gave resources to fund education. The earliest secular public schools were not

513 Consider José Joaquín de Treviño’s lawsuit against José de Jesús Torijano. Jesús Torijano, an

inmate at the royal jail, apparently climbed the walls of his house and engaged in inappropriate relations (“cometido excesos”) with his daughter under the pretense of a forthcoming marriage. See AHM, Se confiere poder al Lic. José Alejandro Treviño y Gutiérrez para seguir pleito contra José de Jesús Torijano, 28 Junio 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 164, no. 92.

514 AHM, Testamento de María de las Casas, 21 Noviembre 1703, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 212, no. 102.

515 AHM, Testamento de José Miguel Antonio de Umaran, 22 Junio 1793, Prot., vol. 22, exp. 1, f. 68, no. 42.

516 AHM, Testamento de Juan José Duran, 17 Diciembre 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 133, no. 78.

517 AHM, Testamento del Sargento Mayor Alonso de León, 15 Enero 1706, Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 55, no. 26.

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established until the nineteenth century. During the colonial era, doncellas taught children

the very basics of literacy and grammar in the homes of their patrons. The escuelas de

amigas, as they were known in Spain, functioned throughout colonial Latin America, yet

there would have been no reason for the cabildo to record information about these

private, familial arrangements. Friars in the convent possibly taught boys, too. The

earliest evidence of formal education in my sample wills dates from 1714. Licenciado

Francisco de la Calancha y Valenzuela, an ecclesiastical judge, donated a hacienda to the

Jesuits to construct a college-seminary and church. The school had at least two teachers

who taught grammar, Latin, and philosophy, but the project was short-lived and

abandoned by 1740 due to a lack of interest and funding.518 The dearth of educational

opportunities in Monterrey led to parents sending their young adults away to Mexico

City, Guadalajara, or Zacatecas for education.519 For example, José Alejandro de la Garza

recorded in his poder that his son “was currently found in his studies in the city of

Guadalajara.”520

A generation later, efforts were intensified once again to establish a place of

formal education. Andrés Ambrosio de Llanos y Valdés, the Spanish-born third bishop of

the Diocese of Linares, oversaw efforts to build the college-seminary, cathedral, hospital,

518 Don Josseph Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, governor and captain general of Nuevo Reino de

León from 1732-1740, wrote a report about the kingdom for the Viceroy of New Spain on 29 November 1740. After indicating that two priests worked at the parish church in Monterrey and two friars at the convent, Fernández reported that “There is another temple called the College of the Fathers of the Company of Jesus which has had most of its roof gone ever since the latter part of [seventeen hundred and] thirty-three, when the Reverend Father Marzelino de Vazaldua, who had charge of it, died. There is no padre living there.” Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, Description of Nuevo León, México, 20.

519 There were a number of educational institutions throughout Mexico, such as Colegio de la Santa Cruz de Querétaro, Colegio de Guadalupe Zacatecas, and Colegio de Pachuca, though none were in Nuevo Reino de León.

520 The poder reads that his son “que éste en la actualidad se halla en estudios en la ciudad de Guadalajara.” AHM, Se confiere poder a doña María de Elizondo, 13 Agosto 1757, Prot., 16, exp. 1, f. 48, no. 22.

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and Capuchin convent.521 From 1764 to 1771, Llanos y Valdés served as rector of a

seminary-college in Mexico City. The college-seminary, known as the Inmaculada San

Antonio de Padua, included northeastern Mexico’s first formal library. More importantly

is the placement of Llanos y Valdés in Mexico City during the tenure of reforming

archbishop of Mexico, Francisco Antonio de Lorenzana. The depiction of Llanos y

Valdés as Lorenzana’s lieutenant suggests the likelihood of advancing reforms amidst the

expansionist agenda. During Llanos y Valdés’ volatile tenure, the church added 48 priests

and 60 members of the clergy. In his will, Llanos y Valdés named the then under

construction cathedral church as his sole heir.522

As part of Monterrey’s growing infrastructure during the 1790s, Fray Antonio

Margil de Jesús founded a hospital, Hospital y Botica de Nuestra Señora del Rosario. As

its name suggests, the early hospital also included an herbal pharmacy. Prior to this, the

sick were treated in the convent’s infirmary.523 In early 1798, an outbreak of smallpox

wreaked havoc throughout the town and caused a great concern for all. By mid-January,

the cabildo met to respond to the growing crisis. During the meeting, they met with Fray

Antonio de la Vera y Gálbez, who was described as a medical practitioner (facultivo en

medicina), and to determine what preventive measures could be taken.524 The cabildo

was especially concerned with the poor who lived in huts, since there was a legitimate

521 For a history of the seminary, see Israel Cavazos Garza, “Esbozo Histórico del Seminario de

Monterrey.” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 10 (1969): 411-427. 522 AHM, Testamento del Dr. don Andrés Ambrosio de Llanos y Valdés, 31 Agosto 1793, Prot.,

vol. 22, exp. 1, f. 91, no. 58. 523 In 1697, Blas de Arrechederra y Gallarreta bequeathed a bed and two sheets of ruan (a type of

fabric), new covers and pillows for the convent’s infirmary. AHM, Testamento de don Blas de Arrechederra y Gallarreta, 15 Junio 1697, Prot., vol. 6, exp. 1, f. 82, no. 51.

524 AHM, Medidas preventivas para enfrentar la epidemia de viruela que azota la ciudad de Monterrey, 17 Enero 1798, Actas de Cabildo, vol. 2, exp. 1798/003-1798/006.

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fear of the spreading the disease. The cabildo asked the bishop for the keys of the newly

established hospital to open a site for smallpox for the poor. An administrator of the royal

hospital arranged to purchase part of a house and plot of land to treat the sick from Doña

Ana María de San José Martínez Guajardo, a twenty-five-year-old doncella who had

inherited the property from her parents.525 The provisional hospital treated over 100 sick

people. To encourage locals who were afraid to be inoculated, Governor Simón de

Herrera y Leyva, the last governor before Independence, and his family were among the

first inoculated publically. Additionally, the cabildo worked with local clergy to

distribute invaluable clothes and other supplies. Some 2,100 people were inoculated for

the disease, with eleven deaths from those inoculated.526 Of the 466 people who naturally

acquired smallpox, 32 died. The provisional hospital admitted 101 inoculated patients

and 80 patients who contracted the disease naturally.

Pious Bequests Over Time

Thus far, this chapter has demonstrated the many continuities in piety across the

eighteenth century. Yet several noticeable trends emerge when the data are analyzed

quantitatively and diachronically. Even though my sample size included 100 wills, this

project recognizes at the outset that a handful of wills can radically alter the percentages.

Therefore, it is important to analyze a number of specific bequests to understand changes

in piety without placing too great of an emphasis on any one specific bequest. From

525 AHM, Venta de una parte de casa y solar, 2 Mayo 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 35 vto., no. 18.

526 AHM, Reconocimiento a las personas que trabajaron en el Hospital Provisional por motive de la epidemia de la viruela, 9 Septiembre 1798, Actas de Cabildo, vol. 2, exp. 1798/007.

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1700-1810, testators averaged 5.3 pious bequests with a median of 4.5. These bequests

largely fell into three categories: funerals, masses for the dead, and charitable gifts.

Bequests concerning the funeral masses and mandatory alms were common among nearly

all testators. Since the establishment of the diocese in 1777 is a turning point in the city’s

history, I have disaggregating the data into the two epochs in order to compare and

contrast. From 1700 to 1776, reineros averaged 6.6 pious bequests per testator with 5.0 as

the median number. However, from 1777 to 1810, testators averaged 4.1 pious bequests,

with 4.0 as the median number. The decrease in the number of pious bequests over time

is indicative of the changes that took place throughout the eighteenth century. Moreover,

half of testators from 1700 to 1776 opened the body of their wills with a pious bequest in

the first clause, whereas less than half did the same from 1777 to 1810.527

Over time, why did testators average two fewer pious bequests? Certainly, one

answer could be an economic one. Poor testators struggled to give away their assets to

pay for lavish funerals and processions, a plethora of masses, gifts to the church, and

charitable donations to the destitute. Although there were relatively poor testators from

1777 to 1810, there were also poor testators from 1700 to 1776. Chapter one

demonstrates the meager situation of Monterrey during the seventeenth and early part of

the eighteenth centuries. As a colonial outpost, the small town struggled with building an

adequate parish church, and the Franciscan convent and the Jesuit church functioned as

the preferred place to receive the sacraments for many reineros. Epidemics, fires, floods,

fear of indigenous uprisings, and expansion into northeastern Mexico all contributed to

527 I did not count the testator’s commending of his or her soul as a pious bequests, as it was

interpreted as an expression of hope. The exact breakdown of this is 62 percent to 46 percent, so not a monumental change but a noticeable one.

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the early struggles in colonial Monterrey. For much of the eighteenth century no resident

sought the office of notary public with its cost of 600 pesos. For those who could afford

imported goods from Mexico City, residents traveled to the annual fair in Saltillo.

Saltillo, not Monterrey, was a central hub for commerce in the early eighteenth century.

Saltillo boasted a larger population than Monterrey complete with wealthy land owners of

large haciendas. Local mines gave both towns a raison d'être. The selection of Monterrey

as the administrative headquarters of the newly established Diocese of Linares coupled

with a number of large-scale building projects promoted by the early bishops signaled a

growing economy and population boom. Therefore, late eighteenth-century and early

nineteenth-century testators who had access to money could have continued and perhaps

even exceeded their predecessors in pious bequests. Economics played a factor, and I rely

on this argument to explain the trends concerning charitable gifts. However, economics

alone fails to explain why testators made fewer pious bequests over time because it does

not account for the language of humility and disdain for pomp that emerges after 1766.

A better explanation for this change in practice can be understood as an interplay

of factors surrounding economics, Franciscan ideals, reform Catholicism, and the

crown’s move to nationalize church assets. The Franciscan-dominated northern frontier

was far away from Mexico City and Veracruz, the two hubs of reform Catholic piety.

However, the arrival of diocesan leadership signaled an ecclesiastical presence previously

unknown to the northern frontier. The presence of diocesan administrators, the cathedral,

and the college-seminary encouraged an embrace of enlightened piety among a

significant minority of testators as evident in their funeral requests and pious bequests.

But the spiritual environment was not merely Franciscan friars versus secular priests. Not

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only were the first four bishops born and educated in Spain, but they were also members

of the Franciscan order. They endorsed the ideals of humility and poverty. An interplay

among Franciscan ideals, the program of the new diocese, and the harsh economic

realities were all factors in understanding why testators asked for fewer masses, fewer

novenas, and established fewer chaplaincies across the eighteenth century. The mass

remained important, but fewer masses for the dead clearly indicate a change in practice

and mentality. This argument would be greatly strengthened by a study of sermons,

pamphlets, and relevant diaries if only extant in the local archives.528 Economics, too,

plays a factor in this. Chapter one established Monterrey as an impoverished community.

Resources were largely controlled by a few families with significant titles and assets,

which were passed down from generation to generation. The economic growth of

Monterrey in the latter half of the eighteenth century provided more opportunities,

leading to a dramatic increase in the writing of wills. More testators referred to

themselves, or were referred to, by the honorific title don or doña as the century

progressed. In turn, this expanded the economic spectrum of testators.

Overall, 54 percent of testators requested masses to be celebrated for the benefit

of their souls. Although the percentage is comparable between the two time periods,

slightly more testators requested these masses during the early to mid-eighteenth century

than during the second half of the century, 60 percent to 48 percent. More telling,

however, is the number of masses requested (see Table 8). Fewer testators requested 10

528 The oldest diary I found in the Archivo del Estado de Nuevo León, was written by a priest, Don

Francisco Javier Treviño, and dates to 1813. José Eleuterio González published it in the middle of the century.

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or more masses.529 In fact, all categories of masses requested were down except for 50-99

masses. Since the request for masses fell, it is unsurprising that novenas and chaplaincies

fell, too. Some 31 percent of testators requested at least one novena, though most of these

requests came before the arrival of the diocese to Monterrey. Whereas 46 percent of

testators requested a novena to benefit their souls and the souls of their loved ones from

1700 to 1776, only 16 percent made this request from 1777 to 1810. Regardless of the

era, the percentage of those who requested masses to benefit the souls of others remained

steady at around 23 percent. In total, 18 percent of testators established a chaplaincies to

say masses and prayers for their souls and often those in their families. Chaplaincies were

expensive and incurred a cost in the thousands of pesos, depending on the amount of

masses said per year. From 1700 to 1776, 24 percent of testators established a chaplaincy,

whereas only 12 percent of testators did this from 1777 to 1810. More significant was the

decreased presence of confraternities in wills.

529 In fact, 42 percent of testators asked for 10 or more masses from 1700 to 1776, whereas 28

percent asked for 10 or more from 1777 to 1810.

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Number of Masses Requested

1700-1776 1777-1810 Total

No Extra Masses 20 (40%) 26 (52%) 46

Unspecified Number of Masses

3 (6%) 5 (10%) 8

1-9 Masses 6 (12%) 5 (10%) 11

10-49 Masses 6 (12%) 3 (6%) 9

50-99 Masses 3 (6%) 5 (10%) 8

100+ Masses 12 (24%) 6 (12%) 18

Table 8: Number of Masses Requested in Sample Wills

Confraternities played a much larger role in the community during the

seventeenth century and first half of the eighteenth century in Monterrey. References to

late eighteenth-century confraternities in wills are rare in Monterrey and other places in

colonial Mexico.530 Only 3 percent of testators in my sample explicitly declared their

membership in a confraternity, though when others mentioned them it was probably a

tacit way of declaring their membership. Chaplaincies, however, were more frequently

established through contracts rather than wills. Furthermore, the percentage of testators

who asked for burial in a Franciscan habit actually increased over the eighteenth century,

and the habit could have signaled membership or desire for membership in the Third

Order, though it was a lay order and not strictly a confraternity. Despite these points, the

decline of confraternities was widespread in colonial Mexico. Late eighteenth-century

530 For example, a similar trend can be seen in wills from colonial Xalapa in the south. See Castillo

Flores, “En el Nombre de Dios,” 27-28.

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reform piety discouraged a communal quest for salvation in favor of an individual one.

Reforming bishops preached against feast day excesses, expenses, and gluttony. Larkin

comments:

By the end of the [eighteenth] century, Spanish testators and notaries downplayed the confraternity’s responsibility for collective memorialization of the dead, indicating that the communal quest for salvation at the heart of much confraternal activity faded as the colonial era came to a close. Now, the individual Catholic stood alone at judgment.531

The Bourbon reforms sought to influence social life in colonial Mexico. By 1791, the

crown decreed that a royal official must attend confraternity meetings. Unauthorized

meetings would be declared “clandestine and illegitimate” and the official would

investigate the license of every confraternity in the province.532 Four years later, the

crown required all existing confraternities to obtain an official license from the Council

of the Indies. In an effort to regulate local religion, Archbishop Núñez de Haro y Peralta

suggested to the Council of the Indies that only two confraternities, the Divine Sacrament

to support the costs associated with the liturgy, which ran especially high for Holy Week

and Corpus Christi, and Holy Souls to help pay for funerals for members and the poor,

remain while prohibiting all other confraternities. The council accepted the proposal, but

whether and to what extent it was put into effect remains unknown throughout colonial

Mexico.533 In colonial Monterrey, however, the diminished presence of confraternities in

the wills suggest a move towards adhering to the crown’s decree and the archbishop’s

531 Larkin, “Confraternities and Community,” 193-194. 532 Brading says that by 1794 Archbishop Alonso Núñez de Haro y Peralta abolished some 500 out

of the 951 confraternities, brotherhoods, and congregations within his diocese. Brading, “Tridentine Catholicism and Enlightened Despotism in Bourbon Mexico,” 12.

533 Brading, “Tridentine Catholicism and Enlightened Despotism in Bourbon Mexico,” 13.

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reforming agenda.

One clear way testators demonstrated their piety was by bequeathing gifts to the

church, confraternities, schools, and the poor. From 1700 to 1810, the colonial wills

reveal an average of 1.9 charitable gifts per testator. When the data are disaggregated

according to years before and after the establishment of the diocese, the gifts per testator

trends downward, from 2.5 to 1.3 per testator. One of the chief characteristics of baroque

Catholicism was church adornment, and over time fewer testators gave money or objects

to adorn the church, convent, or chapel. Overall, 15 percent of testators bequeathed gifts

for church adornment. These gifts included paintings, statues, and religious art to

facilitate veneration at altars in the parish church and the convent. The percentage of

testators who bequeathed gifts for church adornment decreased from 22 percent in 1700

to 1776 to only 8 percent in 1777 to 1810.

The emergence of the new diocese in Monterrey signaled a changing of the guard.

The Franciscan convent had long held an important place for reineros, even serving as the

primary place of worship in the seventeenth century. The cathedral and later college-

seminary increased the presence of secular priests and diocesan officials. Over time,

fewer Spanish descendants requested burial in the convent. Gifts to the convent’s

devotion Jesús Nazareno declined. In fact, all testators who gave gifts to Jesús Nazareno

did so prior to 1777. It is possible that the devotion disbanded, especially given the

archbishop’s crackdown on confraternities, or perhaps the image itself was no longer

serviceable. Although the Franciscan habit remained ever-popular throughout the period

of study, the Franciscan convent received little attention in wills by the late eighteenth

century. Another piece of evidence that suggest the parish church’s increased importance

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is the increase percentage of gifts to the Confraternity of Benditas Ánimas in the parish

church, at 7 percent. The percent minimally increased from 7 percent in 1700 to 1776 to

10 percent from 1777 to 1810.

However, several beneficiaries remained steady. Whereas 80 percent of testators

declared the Virgin Mary as their intercessor, 14 percent gave gifts for her veneration in

their wills.534 This figure includes all of the various titles and associated images.

Testators generally gave funds to support masses or adornment in a chapel, church, or

convent. During 1700 to 1776, the two most popular cults that received gifts were

Nuestra Señora del Nogal and Nuestra Señora de Dolores. The local Marian devotion had

a chapel and Nuestra Senora de los Dolores had an altar in the parish church and the

convent hosted the annual feast.535 After 1777, however, the Nuestra Señora de

Guadalupe slightly outpaced all other titles. Although the numbers in my sample are

small, this tentatively describes the effectiveness of eighteenth-century creole priests to

adopt guadalupanismo even in the northern frontier.

The percentage of testators who mentioned the mandatory alms remained steady

at nearly 90 percent, which is comparable to Saltillo and San Esteban.536 Whether these

were mentioned in wills or is inconsequential, since this alms functioned as a “death tax”

and was expected of all of the dead with the exception of the indigent. Two reales seems

to have been the most common donation, though it ranged from one real to two pesos. In

534 From 1700 to 1776, 18 percent of testators gave gifts to the Virgin compared to 10 percent

from 1777 to 1810. 535 On the annual feast, see AHM, Adición de cláusula, 19 Enero 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 1,

no. 1. 536 Amy Porter observes that 94 percent of testators in Saltillo and 95 percent in San Esteban

mentioned the mandatory bequests. In San Antonio, however, only 58 percent of testators mentioned them. See Porter, Their Lives, Their Wills, 77.

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addition to the mandatory alms, some testators made a voluntary donation to a specific

cause. The holy house of Jerusalem (Casa Santa de Jerusalén) was a fund intended for

the liberation of Jerusalem. Overall, 8 percent of testators gave to this fund, but it

dramatically decreased from 14 percent from 1700 to 1776 to 2 percent from 1777 to

1810, suggesting that the fund was no longer solicited. Two testators gave for the

canonization of Gregorio López, two for the Virgin of Guadalupe, and one for the

redemption of Christian captives.

Beyond the mandatory alms there were few changes among gifts for education,

slaves, orphans, and the poor. Four percent of testators gave to support education via

schools or private teachers. Slightly more orphans received support from the latter half of

the eighteenth century compared to the former half, 8 percent to 4 percent.537 Four

percent freed a slave or forgave the slave’s debt, and 3 percent gave gifts to their slaves.

The motivation behind freeing a slave may at first sound noble unless the reason was

simply the testator’s desire to no longer feed and house an aging slave. Only one more

testator gave to the poor after the diocese was established. This was most surprising given

that reform piety encouraged Catholics to give to the poor rather than spend on

ostentatious funerals and large numbers of masses for the dead. I have presented data that

has demonstrated a clear move away from ostentatious funerals and large quantities of

masses for the dead in favor of humble funerals and fewer masses, yet charitable giving,

a staple of reform piety, actually decreased over time. Why? My hypothesis rests on a

qualitative reading rather than a quantitative analysis of the testaments. More people

wrote wills in the three decades after the founding of the diocese than the previous eight

537 Because of the sample size, this only equates to two more testators.

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decades before. A larger number of testators resulted in a greater swath from the socio-

economic spectrum. Therefore, testators in the “middle class” gave fewer charitable gifts

given their economic constraints and concern for bequeathing their relative wealth to

their immediate families. Evidence for an expansion of those who wrote wills rests in that

wills actually get smaller over time. Since the prologue is quite standard, fewer clauses

represent less assets available to dispense as pious bequests and family inheritance (see

Table 9). Even more indicative is the fact that after 1777, fewer testators who appear in

my sample received a dowry at the time of their marriage and owned land, more than 100

animals, and slaves (see Table 10). Finally, 90 percent of testators hailed from Monterrey

after 1777, compared to two-thirds of testators prior to 1777. This suggests the latter

group consisted of a more urban population who depended on work in the city for their

livelihood rather than on earnings from their haciendas.

Clauses 1700-1776 1777-1810

Average Number of Clauses

24.6 17.6

Median Number of Clauses 20.5 14.5

Table 9: The Average and Median Number of Clauses in Sample Wills

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Type of Asset 1700-1776 1777-1810

Received a Dowry 28 (56%) 22 (44%)

Owned Land 22 (44%) 16 (32%)

Owned 100+ Animals 19 (38%) 8 (16%)

Owned Slaves 9 (18%) 2 (4%)

Table 10: Assets Over Time

Despite the importance of the mass, 46 percent of testators did not ask for

additional masses for the dead. Although she claimed to have been a faithful member of

the church for her entire life and even called upon Mary, Joseph, her guardian angel, and

Saint Anne, Ana María de Berredi never mentioned the mass except for a fleeting

reference to her funeral, which her husband would oversee.538 Married but childless, Ana

María did not record any outstanding debt. Her only assets appear to have been a small

inheritance from her mother and 200 pesos she received as a dower from her husband.

Aside from the saintly prologue, Ana María’s will appears quite “secular.” Except for her

funeral and church burial, no additional pious bequests were made. Some testators simply

could not afford or justify the extra expense to make pious bequests. Their economic

status limited their ability to participate in baroque Catholicism. A thrice married father

of nine children, Pedro Montalvo, did not possess anything except his clothes and few

“trivial things” that he gained over time when he was first married.539 At the time of his

538 AHM, Testamento de Ana María de Berredi, 11 Septiembre 1781, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 134,

no. 67. 539 AHM, Testamento de Pedro Montalvo, 27 Junio 1736, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 53, no. 23.

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will he claimed to own nothing except three debts owed to him, including 40 pesos for

work on the parish church. In his will, he begged the head priest to bury him de limosna,

that is, remitting the donation fee, since he was punctual to his carpentry job at the

church. The economy of individual families was directly impacted by the crown’s

policies.

In her study of nineteenth-century wills and funeral piety in Saltillo and San

Esteban, Alma Victoria Valdés pointed to the crown’s tax on pious works to understand

the precipitous drop off in chaplaincies.540 In the waning years of the eighteenth century,

the Spanish crown made an alliance with France and began taxing pious works 15 percent

to offset costs associated with the Napoleonic Wars against England. By 1804, Charles

IV sought to increase substantially the crown’s revenue to support its ally, France.541 The

royal decree, known as the Real Orden de Consolidación de Vales Reales (Royal Order

Consolidating Royal Bonds), was implemented by Viceroy José de Iturrigaray. While the

decree took additional time to implement in specific areas, its ramifications affected the

piety of testators during the last decade of my study. The royal decree called upon

property owners who had borrowed from the church “to redeem their debts and return

what they owed to the ecclesiastical authorities with immediate effect so that they, in

turn, lend the money to the crown.”542 The forced sale of estates effectively nationalized

church properties. The crown, in turn, paid 3 percent annual interest for these assets, but

it left those in need of loans in financial ruin. W. Dirk Raat and Michael M. Brescia

540 Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 166-167. 541 José M. Portillo Valdés, “Imperial Spain,” in The Napoleonic Empire and the New European

Political Culture: War, Culture and Society, 1750-1850, eds. Michael Broers, Peter Hicks and Agustín Guimerá (Palgrave Macmillan, 2012), 287.

542 Will Fowler, Independent Mexico: The Pronunciamiento in the Age of Santa Anna, 1821-1858 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2016), 45.

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explain, “Many hacendados who had mortgaged their properties to the church were now

faced with ruin. Thus, in Mexico, Spain’s policy affected that part of the elite, primarily

landowners and industrialists (and the lesser clergy), who were not a direct part of the

favored enclave economy.”543 The move devastated the viceroyalty’s credit system, since

roughly half of New Spain’s credit came from capellanías (chaplaincies) and obras pías

(pious works). The highly unpopular move turned people against the crown and offered

disenfranchised landowners, miners, and merchants a reason for insurgency. Although

this specific mandate does not hold the explanatory power to understand the pre-1804

changes in piety, the crown’s encroachment of the church’s role as creditor not only

affected the dynamics of local economies and the access to mortgages and loans but also

curtailed the establishment of traditional pious works and chaplaincies.

Conclusion

The third part of the colonial wills offered space for testators to declare what

pious works they would like done on their behalf and what gifts to donate at death. In

addition to their funeral arrangements, testators bequeathed money, property, goods, and

animals to benefit their souls and the souls of their family members and friends. Testators

often combined several suffrages together, namely the mass, prayers, and charitable gifts,

in an effort to enhance their piety. A level of sophistication and individuality can be seen

among testators who requested a symbolic number of masses. Chaplaincies provided

543 By “enclave economy,” the authors are referring to miners and exporters “whose profits were

derived from exports to the metropolis.” W. Dirk Raat and Michael M. Brescia, Mexico and the United States: Ambivalent Vistas, 4th ed. (Athens and London: The University of Georgia Press, 2010 ), 59

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wealthy testators with perpetual masses celebrated by clergy or students. Due to the high

costs associated with a chaplaincy, only 18 percent of testators actually had established

one. Confraternities encouraged the laity to participate in extra-liturgical celebrations. In

return for blessings and protection in the hereafter, many reinero testators vowed to give

charitable gifts to support the devotion to their personal intercessors. The costs associated

with ornate funeral rituals varied widely; the laity encouraged membership into a

confraternity to defray expenses, but the archdiocese sought to curtail the options

available to Catholics. Although most late eighteenth-century testators remained

committed to the same kinds of pious bequests as their parents and grandparents, there

were a number of trends that mark change in piety.

In this chapter I have presently data that indicate a noticeable shift away from the

amount of masses celebrated for the dead, a decrease in the amount of pious bequests per

testator, and a drop in charitable gifts. To explain changes in pious practices among

testators over time, I have proposed a hypothesis that accounts for an interplay among

poor economic conditions, Francian ideals, and enlightened piety. Franciscan ideals and a

poor economy alone do not account for the change, since Franciscans dominated the first

half of the eighteenth century as much as, if not more than, the second half of the century.

Likewise, Monterrey’s overall economic condition improved with the vast building

projects ushered in by the bishops during the last quarter of the century and a budding

infrastructure, so one would expect to see an increase in charitable gifts, for example, if

no changes occurred in baroque mentality and practice. In fact, what is observed is a

larger socioeconomic pool of testators with limited resources who made fewer pious

bequests and charitable gifts, bringing the average per testator down. After 1777, testators

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owned fewer large properties and herds of animals as the preceding generations, resulting

in a wider economic spectrum of testators. However, wealthy and “middle class”

testators, too, shied away from ostentatious funerals and preferred to be buried as a poor

person as well as asked for fewer masses and established fewer chaplaincies. The

Franciscan ideal of poverty preexisted reform Catholic piety and the crown’s policies to

nationalize church properties. However, after the establishment of the diocese, the

Franciscan ideal of poverty and reform Catholic piety accelerated a turn inward and toned

down the externals. Over the course of the eighteenth century, novenas dropped by 30

percent at the same time more testators asked for a Franciscan habit. The continuities and

changes in piety can be accounted for by a combination of Franciscan ideals that stressed

humility and poverty, enlightened piety that downplayed external piety in favor of

internal piety, a limited local economy, and the policies enacted by the crown. A greater

concern for the individual self seems to have diminished the role of the community in

salvation. Many testators donated what little they owned to their children and their

spouses, leaving little left over for the church and the poor.

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CHAPTER 5: THE FAMILY, THE ESTATE, AND MATERIAL RELIGION

After making her confession of faith, announcing her burial requests, and offering

alms to the Casa Santa and the mandas forzosas, María Cantú declared what she owed,

what she owned, and then named the beneficiaries of her modest estate.544 Her husband,

Diego de Hinojosa, had already died when she dictated her will in 1705. Among her

debts were seven pesos owed to Benito Gutiérrez of Saltillo and an unknown amount she

instructed her executor to determine from the books held by Capitán Pedro de Almandos.

The final debt listed was made by her late husband, an amount of six pesos owed to a

woman identified simply as a mulata living at the hacienda of General Alonso de León in

the Valley of Pilón just to the south of Monterrey. Testators identified even the smallest

of debts as well as named those who were indebted to them. Whether or not their estates

ever paid the debts or collected from debtors remains another issue. Nevertheless, the

responsibility to attend to these issues fell to the executors of one’s estate. María passed

over her eldest son, Miguel, and selected her second eldest son who was named after his

father, Diego de Hinojosa, as the primary executor of her estate, citing that she was

“completely satisfied” with him. Rather than a subtle dig against Miguel, the selection of

Diego appears to have been motivated by her close relationship with him at least partially

cultivated by time spent living with him. She bequeathed her small amount of clothing

and furniture to him “with the blessing of God and me for the good that he has served

me.” Another reason for selecting Diego was that she and her husband had already

helped their other children in times past. Now it was Diego’s turn.

544 AHM, Testamento de María Cantú, 9 Enero 1705, Prot., vol. 8, f. 156, no. 71.

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The colonial will served as the community’s public record, and the inclusion of

one’s debts and loans publicized the testator’s finances. Maintaining a good standing in

the community compelled testators to settle their debts. In case a small debt was

forgotten, many testators included a statement that allowed for a claim against their estate

up to five pesos.545 Of course, not every testator had outstanding debts, but most did as

they ventured in the precarious business of agriculture.546 Wealthy testators occasionally

forgave loans, especially if the debtor pled poverty.547 Testators were prone to show

mercy and sometimes released older slaves from their bondage as an act of charity,

though perhaps they also wanted to rid their heirs of taking care of them.548 In addition to

debts, assets were also listed. A few wills provide rather exhaustive inventories, but most

do not. For those with considerable wealth or who died intestate, separate inventories

were drawn up to allow for the distribution of assets among heirs and beneficiaries. In

1796, Bartolomé de la Serna y Alarcón’s will records that he made an inventory of his

first wife’s estate shortly after she died intestate.549 He submitted this document to the

regidor alférez real, José Joaquín Canales, who happened to be the husband of his late

wife’s sister. In some cases another document detailing precisely who received specific

assets was also written, especially for those who had much to bequeath. General Alonso

545 For example, Isidro Gutiérrez de Lara instructed his estate to pay up to five pesos to anyone

who claimed he owed them based on their “simple vow” (simple juramento). AHM, Testamento de Isidro Gutiérrez de Lara, 17 Diciembre 1763, Prot., vol. 16, f. 217, no. 89.

546 Antonio Fernández declared in clause 17, “I declare that I do not owe anything to any person.” AHM, Testamento de Antonio Fernández, 3 Agosto 1751, Prot., vol. 15, f. 128, no. 64.

547 AHM, Testamento de Juan Bautista Chapa, 8 Enero 1694, Prot., vol. 5, exp. 1, f. 66, no. 27. 548 See Castillo Flores, “En el Nombre de Dios,” 45-46. Did testators have mercy on elderly slaves

or did they just want to rid their heirs of the responsibility to take care of them? Perhaps this is best understood on a case by case basis. For example, Juan de Elizondo and his second wife, María Marta González, set free one of their slaves, a mother named Juana María. However, her five children aged five months to 19 years remained in slavery. AHM, Testamento de Juan de Elizondo, 16 Diciembre 1777, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 280, no. 142.

549 AHM, Testamento de Bartolomé de la Serna y Alarcón, 1 Agosto 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 106, no. 64.

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de León wrote his will in 1691, but it was not until after his death that another document

was made to distribute his assets (repartición de bienes) at the request of his two

executors, his wife and son.550 María Cantú’s estate consisted of four caballerias de

tierra with two of these large plots of land designated for the grazing of livestock,

consisting of 20 mares, 14 of their young, and a branding iron. Additionally, she owned

100 goats, 100 sheep, and 150 of their young. These assets would be divided equally

among her seven children after all debts, funeral expenses, and pious bequests had been

paid.

The final part of a colonial will is instructive. Like most colonial women in

Monterrey, María could not sign her name. One of her three male witnesses did the honor

for her. Overall, less than half of testators could sign their names, though many more men

than women had acquired this skill.551 This snapshot reveals the educational disparity

between men and women. The lack of formal education persisted throughout much of the

colonial era in Monterrey. Women, in particular, had even fewer opportunities than men

to pursue basic education. Because the office of notary public remained vacant, as it had

for roughly half of the period under study, the duty to write and authorize María’s will

fell upon don Juan Esteban de Ballesteros, an alcalde ordinario of Monterrey and juez de

comisión for the governor of the kingdom. A mere 21 percent of wills were authorized by

notaries with the rest by colonial officials.

550 AHM, Testamento del General Alonso de León, 1691, 13 Marzo 1691, Prot., vol. 4, exp. 1, f.

137, no. 59 and AHM, Repartición de bienes de Alonso de León, 17 Abril 1704, Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 1, no. 1.

551 In total 47 percent of testators signed their names; however, 60 percent of men signed their names compared to only 14 percent of women.

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Maria’s will attends to spiritual matters in a prosaic fashion, relegating space to a

confession of her faith, funeral mass, and Christian burial, but there is little evidence that

she sought to use her assets to fund religious causes beyond Casa Santa and the

mandatory alms. According to her scribe, she claimed to be a faithful Catholic Christian

and daughter of the Roman and apostolic church. She confessed the ineffable mystery of

the Holy Trinity and asked the Lord Jesus Christ to forgive her of her sins. Among her

intercessors were the Virgin Mary, saints Peter and Paul, all of the male and female saints

in the heavenly court, St. Anthony her defender, and the blessed St. Joseph. She

requested a sung mass with an offering of wax, bread, and wine at her funeral. As a

member of the Third Order she asked for burial in a Franciscan habit. At a future date to

be determined by her executor, a novena of low masses would be said for her soul.

Despite these strong indications of faith, assent to orthodoxy, and request for masses,

most of her assets were set aside for her heirs. Although María’s will clearly

demonstrates her religious commitment and concern for securing her salvation, it also

shows the pragmatic transfer of wealth from one generation to the next. This was done by

designating beneficiaries, primarily the family but also, in a more limited fashion, the

church. The testator’s immediate family was the largest recipient of bequeathed assets,

and the church in fact discouraged the practice of bequeathing all of one’s goods for the

benefit of the soul. The bulk of María’s assets went to her children, but her household

items were assigned to her son, Diego, for personal reasons already explained. These

details reveal insights into the testator’s agency couched within a somewhat rigid,

formulaic document.

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Until this point, this dissertation has analyzed the baroque background and

theology that provided a rationale for pious activities in the colonial period, described

colonial Monterrey as a northeastern outpost with limited resources yet grew throughout

the eighteenth century, examined the range of pious activities among testators, and

identified trends related to the pious practices concerning funerals, masses, alms, and

charitable gift giving. An interplay of poor economic conditions, Franciscan ideals,

enlightened piety championed by archbishops in Mexico City, and policies set by the

Bourbon crown contributed to these trends throughout the eighteenth century. This final

chapter analyzes the last two parts of a colonial will, the distribution of assets and the

work of the executors. In this chapter I analyze the final two parts of a colonial will. In

the process I will make three arguments. First, wills demonstrate that testators who had

access to economic resources functioned as active participants of their communities.

Colonial wills reveal valuable information about marriage, dowry customs, and children.

Although colonial Mexican society favored men in many respects, Castilian law

maintained some provisions for women not customarily found in English civil law. In

particular, widows exercised a certain level of autonomy over their dowries, wedding

gifts, inheritances, and estates, they made loans, rented out farmland and animals, and

hired workers, all of which impacted the local economy, and they lived active religious

lives as shown by their possession of devotional objects. Secondly, material objects used

for devotion offer a gateway to explore the everyday religious lives of reineros. Space

will be allotted to exploring the types of objects enumerated in wills and their

significance to describe aspects of colonial material religion. Material objects are

prominent in the wills of those who had greater access to economic goods. Testators

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possessed a range of material objects, including images, devotional paintings (retablos),

relics, statues of saints, rosaries, and vestments. In some cases they bequeathed these to a

specific beneficiary, such as the parish church, Franciscan convent, chapels, or family

members. Lastly, the work of the executors aimed to follow through with the testator’s

bequests. The seriousness of such an undertaking derives from the belief that what was

done to benefit their souls had a direct effect in the afterlife. Family members loom large

as they assumed responsibilities entrusted to them by testators. Executors worked to

ensure payment for the testator’s funeral and pious works, settlement of debts and loans,

and allocation of inheritance among heirs.

The Fourth Part of the Testament: The Family and the Estate

Colonial wills contribute much to understanding the era’s social and cultural

history. They provide valuable information concerning demographics, marriage, and

death as well as cultural practices like the patterns of selecting names, the celebration of

religious events, and the practice of giving wedding gifts. Wills shed light on the

economic hardships that families endured and the sacrifices they made in everyday life.

Doña María Antonia Fernández de Castro revealed to her draftsperson that the family had

to reduce the number of masses said for her late father, Pedro, from 20 to 12, since they

suffered a loss of revenue from their walnut grove.552 This is telling of the prescriptive

nature of wills versus the descriptive reality of later documents. Wills, nevertheless,

illuminate the practice of remarriage after the spouse’s death, state the number of children

552 AHM, Testamento de doña María Antonia Fernández de Castro, 3 Septiembre 1796, Prot., vol.

23, exp. 1, f. 111, no. 66.

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per couple, and whether the children were born in wedlock or outside of it. They indicate

whether the groom or bride brought anything into the marriage or whether or not a dowry

and other gifts were supplied at the time of the marriage. Juan García de Pruneda

eventually arose to the rank of general, yet many years before reaching the apex of his

illustrious career his wife was so poor at the time of their marriage that she owned

nothing.553 Some colonial men were able to build up their estates with their wives’

dowries, yet others did not. Both male and female testators meticulously enumerated

assets they brought into a marriage in order to lay claim to them in the event of the

spouse’s death and subsequent remarriage. They wanted to ensure the public record

accurately reflected reality as they remembered it. Remarriage, in particular, was an issue

since it opened up the possibilities of having legitimate children as a result of second and

third marriages, thus creating new heirs.

Wills were not only used to establish a public record, they were also used to

challenge it. Doña Josefa Báez Treviño had nothing to bequeath except her home. In fact,

her will effectively had only two purposes: care for her soul and distribution of her house.

The first clause in her 1799 last will and testament states that the house she lived in was

built with the capital that she invested, even though the deed (escritura) had her late

husband’s name on it was customary.554 What was her motivation behind this revelation?

She wanted to ensure that the ownership of her house went without contest to her only

heir, her son Bachiller Don José Lorenzo, who had paid for her late husband’s burial and

“having always supported and protected me in all of my needs.” Thus, the fourth part of

553 AHM, Testamento del Gral. Juan García de Pruneda, 10 Febrero 1753, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f.

265 vto., no. 125. 554 She claimed the reason for such was “por ser este el principal en todos nuestros tratos.” AHM,

Testamento de Josefa Báez Treviño, 5 Septiembre 1799, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 219, no. 97.

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the colonial will focused on identifying debts and credits and dividing up the testator’s

estate among family members.

Over half of all testators were married at the time of writing their wills, one-fourth

were widowed, and a one-fifth were single. Almost 40 percent of testators had lost a

spouse, and one-third of these, mostly men, had remarried. Neither colonial wills nor

burial records generally record precise ages, so it is difficult to confirm logical

possibilities like most men married younger women or women lived longer than men.

Since these options are not mutually exclusive, it is possible that both occurred, resulting

in more widows than widowers. There is, at least, another reason for a greater percentage

of widows than widowers. Mothers under Spanish law did not automatically obtain

custody of their own children when their husbands died. Male testators designated a legal

caregiver for their young children in the case of death. Mothers were naturally chosen in

most wills. For example, José Nicolás Flores designated his wife, Ana María de Treviño,

as “tutor and caregiver for the good (ad bono) of their children,” offering her financial

support for this responsibility.555 However, men could legally exert control over women

even in death. José Nicolás stipulated that if Ana María remarried, she would lose the

right to be the primary caregiver for her own children “to a person more Christian and

reliable (abonada) who has the qualities that the law has ordered the conscience.” A few

mothers, like Ana María, were restricted from remarriage if they wanted to retain custody

of their own children.

After settling debts, funeral expenses, and pious bequests, the testator was finally

555 AHM, Testamento de José Nicolás Flores, 28 June 1794, Prot., vol. 22a, exp. 11, f. 0.

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ready to enunciate his or her assets. Living spouses were entitled to half of the

accumulated estate since the time of marriage.556 Unless a testator declared a mejora of a

third or a fifth of their estate to “reward a particular child, or the spouse, or to establish a

chantry benefitting some close relative,” children inherited in equal shares bilaterally,

from both their father and mother.557 Male and female testators alike bequeathed most of

their possessions to immediate members of their household. According to their wills,

married women in eighteenth-century Monterrey had about six children on average, so

households tended to be quite large.558 Estates, therefore, were often reduced to fractions.

The division of goods makes it somewhat common to encounter the ownership of half of

a house or half of a plot of land.559 Doña Josefa González’s estate totaled 3,215 pesos and

six reales; however, after all expenses were paid, each inheritor received a mere 116

pesos.560 What happened in cases where there were no living blood-related heirs? Some

testators designated other family members as heirs. In 1781, Gregorio Peñuela Arias de

Prado fell sick.561 As a single man with an estate valued at 7,000 pesos, he bequeathed

his belongings to his parents. In the event that he outlived them, then his assets would go

to his siblings. Doña María Adriana Leal de León and her Spanish-born husband did not

556 Lavrin and Couturier add, “Spanish laws governing the division of property had, as a

fundamental purpose, the protection of the rights of the wife—or the husband—and the children of the married testators. Under relatively few circumstances they could be deprived of their rights. Only after the claims of the spouse and descendants were satisfied could parents, sisters, or others be named as heirs.” Lavrin and Couturier, “Dowries and Wills,” 286.

557 Lavrin and Couturier, “Dowries and Wills,” 286. 558 In total, 25 married women testators who were able to have children had 146 of them. 559 For example, Doña Juana González de Treviño gave her nephew half of a house and half of a

parcel of land that originally belonged to her parents. AHM, Donación de mitad de casa, 24 Septiembre 1771, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 253, no. 11.

560 AHM, Diligencias sobre inventarios y partición de bienes de doña Josefa González, 26 Febrero 1761, Prot., vol. 16, exp. 1, f. 68, no. 29.

561 AHM, Testamento de Gregorio Peñuela Arias de Prado, 1 Diciembre 1781, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 159, no. 84.

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have any children.562 She chose her uncle as her estate’s primary heir, requesting five low

masses a year in exchange for a peso each once he was ordained at age 25. If he decided

not to be ordained, he would remain as the chaplaincy’s patron and determine who would

celebrate the masses. Of the roughly 20 percent who never married, about a third of these

were members of the clergy, whereas the rest consisted of young people in their upper

teens and early 20s who were still in the age of marriage and older people who never

married. Those belonging to the latter category tended to announce that even though they

were not bound by a vow of chastity, they were indeed celibate. Originally from Castile,

Domingo María de Aldasoro never married. He declared that “he never has been married

nor taken a solemn vow of chastity, religion, or Roman and he has always maintained a

state of celibacy.”563 He named four heirs, businessmen from Mexico City and

Monterrey.

Some testators designated others as their “children” (hijos). Amy Porter points out

that “children” is a rather broad term in colonial Mexican and can refer to a range of

individuals, including illegitimate children, adopted children, servants, and orphans.564

Regardless of the exact relationship, non-blood heirs were tasked with certain

responsibilities just as blood relatives. In 1759, Margarita de la Garza bequeathed her

house and a plot of land (solar) to Joseph Francisco Sánchez de Robles whom she raised

as her son. She asked her heir to see that 200 low masses were said for her soul and for

the souls of her husband, siblings, and parents.565 She went on to add that she and her late

562 AHM, Testamento de doña María Adriana Leal de León, 29 Octubre 1796, Prot., vol. 23, exp.

1, f. 124, no. 75. 563 AHM, Testamento de Domingo María de Aldasoro, 6 Octubre 1800, Prot., vol. 25, exp. 1, f.

162, no. 67. 564 Porter, Their Lives, Their Wills, 4. 565 AHM, Testamento de Margarita de la Garza, 18 Julio 1759, Prot., vol. 16, exp. 1, f. 127, no. 46.

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husband loved Joseph very much and that she was grateful for all of his assistance and

obedience. Additionally, she appreciated his recognition of her as mother. The family

looms large in colonial wills. Marriage, of course, was the starting ground for the family.

Marriage and Dowry Customs

Spanish family law governed the legal standing of colonial men and women in

New Spain, and marriage customs sought to provide guidelines to ensure favorable

outcomes. Marriage was a serious matter, and the state and the church each sought out

ways to enforce marriage customs, the former threatened imprisonment and exile for men

who seduced women without the intent to marry and the latter by announcing the banns

from the pulpit for three consecutive feasts.566 Colonial law identified a woman’s status

within the family, upheld her right to receive a share of an inheritance, and regulated her

goods once deceased. The Catholic Church insisted that marriage was a sacrament and

intended for life with the primary aim to produce and raise children. The couple exercised

free will to engage in a sacramental and legal marriage. Most colonial women married

men who were from the same social class as their fathers.567 Women married roughly

between the ages of 17 and 27 in eighteenth-century Mexico City, though they married

slightly earlier in other places, such as in León where most married between the ages of

566 Patricia Seed, To Love, Honor, and Obey in Colonial Mexico: Conflicts Over Marriage

Choices, 1574-1821 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1988), 75-76, 170-171. 567 For example, in Monterrey a number of men in the military often married daughters of men in

the military. Sargento Mayor Carlos Cantú married a daughter of General Alonso de León, Doña María de León. AHM, Inventario de bienes por muerte de doña María de León, 9 Enero 1706, Prot., vol. 8, exp. 1, f. 62, no. 28.

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16 and 18.568 By custom, colonial women married men who were about seven or eight

years older. This practice gave men time to become established in a profession prior to

taking on the serious responsibilities of a household. The options for ending a marriage,

however, were limited.

One common means of ending a marriage pragmatically was by physical

separation (a mensa et thoro), sometimes referred to as an “ecclesiastical divorce.”569

However, the couple in this case would remain legally and sacramentally married. Thus,

either party would not be allowed to remarry so long as their first marriage was valid and

both parties were still alive. There were only two permissible way to remarry. The first

involved obtaining an annulment from church officials pronouncing the marriage as

invalid. The second and most common way in the testaments involved the death of one of

the marriage partners.570 Spanish laws concerning marriage favored the gender

responsible for writing and enacting those laws. Jean Stunz demonstrates that Castilian

law as stipulated in the Siete Partidas provided for divorce, but only in the case of an

adulterous wife; that is, “the man’s marital status was immaterial.”571 In fact, the

568 Canon law permitted girls to marry at 12 and boys at 14, though this was rare in colonial

Mexico. Indigenous women tended to marry younger than their Spanish-born counterparts. Susan Migden Socolow, The Women of Colonial Latin America, 2nd ed. (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015), 67.

569 The Latin expression for legal separation refers to “from bed and board.” “Ecclesiastical divorce was a difficult, costly, and even shameful process, and the number of cases was quite small in each country.” Carmen Diana Deere and Magdalena León, “Liberalism and Married Women’s Property Rights in Nineteenth-Century Latin America, Hispanic American Historical Review 85, no. 4 (2005): 635, 643.

570 Examples of an invalid marriage include a marriage between two relatives defined broadly as physical or spiritual relatives involving godparents and godchildren. Also, invalid marriages occur if either party is already married to someone else or if either party is unable or unwilling to procreate, thus upending the primary reason for marriage.

571 Stunz writes, “A husband could obtain a divorce from his wife if she was proven to be an adulteress, but the wife could not sue on account of the husband’s adultery. Adultery as a crime was defined as when a man had relations with a woman who was married or betrothed to another.” Jean A. Stunz, Hers, His and Theirs: Community Property Law in Spain and Early Texas, 2nd ed. (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 2010), 33.

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Inquisition prosecuted those parties involved in bigamy and adultery. It should be noted

that cases involving bigamy in Monterrey appear more frequently after Sargento Mayor

Don Antonio Urresti began serving as the city’s notary public in 1751. One case involved

Doña Agustina de León who was able to obtain a death certificate for her husband,

Santiago Cabeza de Vaca, in an effort to remarry.572 The problem that surfaced was the

discovery that Santiago was very much alive. Shortly after her remarriage in 1763, the

notary public informed the Office of the Inquisition that Santiago was indeed alive and

proceedings were brought against Doña Agustina. Whereas the church dictated the terms

of a valid marriage, the state oversaw regulations pertaining to the couple’s property

arrangement.

Cheryl Martin has written about the role of widows in New Spain’s northern

frontier. Martin has found that widows “who lived with adult male relatives frequently

represented their households to the outside world. Even more often than married women,

widows negotiated with their sons’ employers over wages and credits.”573 Widows and

solteras oversaw not only households of children and doncellas, but also households that

included adult male sons and other relatives. The practical demands of making a living

coupled with the loss of their husbands set the stage for widows to function as heads of

their households. They relied on knowledge gleaned from witnessing the business

practices of others, such as their parents, relatives, and husbands, and they coupled their

572 Gerardo Zapata Aguilar, “La Inquisición en el Nuevo Reino de León,” Roel 2, no. 1 (1997): 24. 573 Martin adds that “Those who counted Chihuahua’s population in 1785 seem to have made

some kind of determination about power relations in each household they visited. In some cases they listed a woman as head of the household even if an adult male relative resided with her, but in other cases they listed widows as members of households headed by their sons or sons-in-law.” Martin, Governance and Society in Colonial Mexico, 163.

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initiative with the resources they had available. They made loans and hired agriculture

workers.574

However, widows with limited resources had fewer options. Many opted to

remarry. Colonial wills reveal that some widows were in a unique economic and social

situation given their access to capital resources. Not only had they inherited the estates of

their deceased parents, but they also laid claim to half of the estate they built with their

husbands. Although inheritances and gifts provided economic capital, widows had to

manage their resources wisely to maintain their economic standing within the

community. The economic agency of widows was directly impacted by Castilian laws

that granted certain rights to them unlike their counterparts who lived under English law.

Not only did women hold legal claims to their dowries, they also retained assets brought

into their marriage and had community property rights during their marriage. The assets

accumulated over the course of marriage thus belonged to both the husband and the wife

and were duly noted in the fourth section of wills. The identification of these assets was

intended to ensure their proper allocation upon the demise of a spouse.

There was an extensive range of what women brought into their marriages, from

very little to large amounts of land, animals, and material goods. Dowries and other

marriage gifts were given by parents or other relatives to their daughters as a means to

help establish the newlyweds. Dowries included property, water rights, chattel, and pesos

in reales. A formal receipt was drafted to identify the amount and the contents of a

574 Consider one testator’s debts to Doña María Baez Treviño, his ama. AHM, Testamento de

Salvador Canales, 9 Diciembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 135 vto., no 61.

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dowry.575 Women also brought paraphernalia, or “things beyond the dowry.”576 These

assets included clothing, jewelry, household goods, and devotional objects. Testators who

provided gifts to their children at marriage often specify this in their wills when doling

out their inheritances, especially to children who have yet to marry. Some testators, like

Juan Bautista Cavazos, gave dowries to all of his children. Juan gave an unspecified

number of animals to each of his six children (three boys, three girls) when they

married.577 In her 1793 will, María Josefa Urdiales declared that she and her husband

gave all that was necessary to pay for the right of marriage (derechos de sus casamientos)

for their three sons.578 However, she left her house to her two youngest daughters who

were still living at home with her. María wanted to ensure that everyone had received

something before she died.579 Juana de Urrutia brought several items that she inherited

from her late father: “three old silver plates, a silk shawl, an old silk skirt, a cloak, a

rosary with a silver cross, a locket with a wax seal of agnus dei (“lamb of God”), seven

and one-half days of water with corresponding land.”580

Wills also provided space for testators to enumerate their economic successes and

failures. Astute agro-businesswomen and businessmen profited from buying, selling, and

trading land. Doña Elena Cavazos had a dowry worth 300 pesos of land in Santo

Domingo and other commodities.581 That amount seems common among those with

575 For example, see AHM, Se entrega dote, 9 Enero 1711, Prot., vol. 9, exp. 1, f. 194, no. 65. 576 This is the literal meaning of the Greek παράφερνα (parapherna). 577 AHM, Testamento de Juan Bautista Cavazos, 1 Junio 1784, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 245, no.

123. 578 AHM, Testamento de María Josefa Urdiales, 16 Octubre 1793, Prot., vol. 22, exp. 1, f. 120, no.

75. 579 The testator’s eldest daughter who was already married died childless. 580 AHM, Testamento de José Andrés de Villarreal, 3 Abril 1800, Prot., vol. 25, exp. 1, f. 111, no.

49. 581 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Juan Guerra Cañamar, 31 Octubre 1718, Prot., vol. 14, exp. 1, f.

194, no. 75.

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sufficient resources in the eighteenth century, though the amount of dowries for nuns was

much more.582 Still, membership into the Third Order of Franciscans was open to women

who could not afford the steep dowry. 583 Husbands legally had to obtain their wives’

consent before using the principle, “but he had the duty to return its value on the

dissolution of the marriage or to make provisions for its restitution in his own will.”584

Doña Elena’s husband, Juan Guerra Cañamar, sold her land for 200 pesos in order to buy

another parcel of farmland (laborcita) in nearby Santa Catarina, and then he later sold it

to buy land in San Isidro in the jurisdiction of Saltillo.585 His will describes the rest of his

wife’s dowry, including a yoke of oxen, some mares, and tools. After years of trading,

Juan Guerra amassed 800 pesos of value from his wife’s original 300 pesos of land. Their

marriage produced three children; however, Doña Elena died. Juan Guerra Cañamar’s

second wife, Doña Catarina de la Garza Falcón, brought 500 goats into the marriage

along with household items, such as a wooden bed, a mattress, sheets, covers, pillows.

His estate was valued at 3,000 pesos. Juan Guerra’s will stipulated payment of a number

of debts, including 500 pesos his second wife had given him from her dowry. These

assets legally belonged to her. Occasionally, husbands lost their wives’ dowries. After

selling his wife’s dowry, which consisted of a vineyard, Lucas Caballero planned to sell a

582 For example, 300 pesos was common for dowries in eighteenth-century Querétero. The dowry

amount for nuns to enter a religious order ranged between 3,000-5,000 pesos. Ortiz de Logroño, Un formulario notarial mexicano del siglo XVIII, 66.

583 At Cuenca, for example, “Women who could not afford the dowry required for entry into one of the female orders sometimes joined the Third Order of the Franciscans.” Nalle, God in La Mancha, 137.

584 Lavrin and Couturier, “Dowries and Wills,” 282-283. 585 Even though the land in Santo Domingo belonged to Doña Elena, the receipt of the sale places

the husband’s name first as a sale initiated by a husband and wife. AHM, Venta de parte de hacienda, 13 Abril 1704, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 225v, no. 110.

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large amount of wine and start afresh.586 Tragically, a fire erupted in the carriages while

on the way to sell his wine, and he lost all of it. In his last will and testament, he declared,

“it [the fire] was not my fault.” Clearly, Caballero wanted to deflect potential blame,

though his wife was already dead.

Sometimes other family members, such as grandparents, uncles and aunts, and

even godparents contributed to the dowry, especially if the parents were deceased or

unable to donate a gift. When Catalina de Treviño y Maya married the merchant, General

Francisco Baez Treviño, her godfather and grandmother gave her a dowry worth 1,180

pesos.587 Francisco had assets totaling 700 pesos at the time of the marriage, suggesting

they were from similar economic backgrounds in the community. Even when women

were beneficiaries of dowries and gifts, the husband gained power over his wife’s assets

in marriage. The wills record an oft-repeated refrain, “I declare at the time when we

contracted our marriage the capital resources of my wife entered into my power,”

followed by a list of the assets.588 Alluding to its patriarchal culture, official paperwork

recorded transactions as taking place between men even when the gift was intended to a

married woman. Juan José de Montemayor donated land to the husband of “his

granddaughter and until today his only primary heir (heredera universal),” retaining the

right to use a small portion of the land to plant corn.589 Donors had the right to stipulate

certain conditions incumbent upon the recipients of their gifts. These gifts, after all, were

586 The wife also brought with her two slaves and some jewels. Lucas eventually sold the slaves to

pay a debt to the king. AHM, Testamento del Sargento Mayor Lucas Caballero, 12 Junio 1690, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 2, f. 2.

587 AHM, Se Confiere poder legal (mutuo), 23 Febrero 1720, Prot., vol. 11, exp. 1, f. 119, no. 34. 588 The phrase or something very similar appears frequently. The exact phrase translated here

derives from AHM, Testamento de Juan Bautista Cavazos, 1 Junio 1784, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 245, f. 123.

589 AHM, Donación de tierras, 29 Abril 1765, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 184, no. 104.

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intended to support the newly established family. When Fray Juan José Fernández

Lozano left his niece a dowry of 2,000 pesos, he asked that she receive the funds either at

the time of her marriage or when she gained civil capacity at age 25, if she had not yet

married.590 Deere and León explain that “Children of both sexes were subject to paternal

authority (patria potestad) until their father’s death, their marriage, or until they were

officially emancipated by their father or court order.”591

Whereas many brides brought dowries into the marriage, grooms provided them

with wedding gifts.592 Wills specify these gifts in Spanish (arras) or Latin (donatio

propter nuptias), also known as dower rights. Grooms either provided money or other

assets or pledged a future payment as a means of support for their brides’ future. For

example, María Josefa de Larralde accumulated assets worth 10,500 pesos at the time of

her second marriage from two sources, her paternal inheritance and the arras from her

first husband.593 To protect the inheritance rights of children, the groom “could not assign

more than 10 percent of his property to arras.”594 Dower rights often stipulated specific

requirements incumbent on the fiancée. In 1810, José Ygnacio Martínez, a widower,

made a donatio propter nuptias of 200 pesos to his future wife, María Antonia de la

Serna.595 Upon their marriage in facie eclesiae, money was placed in a trust. Dower

rights offered some, even if minimal, security in the form of assets in the event that her

590 AHM, Cumplimiento del testamento del Fray Juan José Fernández Lozano, 8 Enero 1791,

Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 178, no. 96. 591 Deere and León, “Liberalism and Married Women’s Property Rights in Nineteenth-Century

Latin America,” 636. 592 The custom of the husband’s family giving dower rights to the bride emerged in antiquity. In

the western Christian tradition, the emperor Justinian ordered that wives were entitled part of their husband’s property. Spanish law maintained this custom.

593 AHM, Otorgamiento de poder, 23 Enero 1779, Prot., vol. 19, exp. 1, f. 79, no. 36. 594 Lavrin and Couturier, “Dowries and Wills,” 284. 595 AHM, Donación de 200 pesos a futura esposa, 13 Julio 1810, Prot., vol. 28, exp. 127, f. 0.

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husband would die before she did or if the marriage did not occur. Like a dowry, the wife

retained the rights to these gifts. In 1795, Juan Vicente de Sepúlveda appeared before the

notary public, Mateo Lozano.596 He pledged to donate 100 pesos in reales to his future

wife, María Josefa de la Garza, if their upcoming marriage did not occur. To pay for the

donation, Juan Vicente placed a day of water with its corresponding land at the Hacienda

de San Rafael as a mortgage (hipoteca). If the fiancé did not own a hacienda, he could

mortgage his house to obtain the needed funds. Regardless how the funds were obtained,

the fiancé’s willingness to secure payment for dower rights indicated a high level of

commitment to the upcoming union.597 In the nineteenth century, dower rights were also

given as a payment for the future couple’s house.598

Material Religion

Anthropologist Matthew Engelke boldly proclaims, “All religion is material

religion.”599 The pithy assertion is rather insightful in that it challenges how religion has

been historically understood by scholars of religion, namely as sui generis and

immaterial. Although religion has been presented historically by scholarship as a neutral,

objective category, the professional study of religion has deep Protestant, anti-

materialistic roots. Many classical theorists of religion were, at the least, nominal

596 AHM, Donación propter nuptias a favor de María Josefa de la Garza, 9 Enero 1795, Prot., vol.

22A, exp. 47, f. 0. 597 AHM, Donación “propter nuptiar” a María del Refugio Rodríguez, 7 Marzo 1834, Prot., vol.

37, exp. 170. 598 AHM, Donación de dinero por matrimonio, 31 Diciembre 1833, Prot., vol. 37, exp. 83, f. 0. 599 Matthew Engelke goes on to say that “But the difficult part comes in understanding what

previously constitutes the materiality of material religion, what makes religious materiality either significant or religious, and according to whom.” Matthew Engelke, “Material Religion,” in The Cambridge Companion to Religious Studies, ed. Robert Orsi (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 209.

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Protestants who often viewed Christianity, specifically, Protestantism as the most

advanced religion.600 The Protestant viewpoint stretches back to the sixteenth century

whereby humanists like Erasmus and reformers, such as d’Etaples, Zwingli, and Calvin,

advocated platonic dualism—a strict separation between spirit and matter—limiting

materiality in religion. Catholicism, on the other hand, has historically emphasized

presence or immanence, the idea that God and the saints are in the material world. This is

especially noticeable in theological understanding of the sacraments. Augustine of Hippo

readily accepted real divine presence through materiality. For Augustine, “The signs of

divine things are visible things, but that the invisible things themselves are also honored

in them.”601 Drawing on the work of Hugh of St. Victor, the medieval theologian Peter

Lombard argued, “precisely what is a sign of God’s grace and a visible form of invisible

grace, in such a way that it bears its image and is its cause is called a sacrament in the

proper sense.”602 Consequently, baroque Catholicism inherited a western medieval view

600 To name a few, E.B. Tylor, William James, Émile Durkheim, Max Weber, and Mircea Eliade

were all vastly influenced by Christianity. Theologians, too, have speculated about the definition and meaning of religion, such as Friedrich Schleiermacher, Paul Tillich, and Karl Barth. Augustine followed Lactantius to claim that the Latin religio derived from “re” (again) and “ligare” (to connect), whereas Cicero had earlier posited “re” (again) and “lego” (reading) as the root. For a popular survey on theories of religion and background information on the classical theorists, see Daniel L. Pals, Nine Theories of Religion (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014). Some modern scholars have attempted to construct a definition that combines universalist and particularist views. For example, “Religion is the human longing for and awareness of the divine (what is taken to be unsurpassable in importance and reality) experienced and expressed within the concrete cultural life of particular historical traditions.” David E. Klemm and William Schweiker, Religion and the Human Future: An Essay on Theological Humanism (Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2008), 152. Currently, a cultural studies approach to understanding and teaching about religion is dominant in public education. This approach views religion as “embedded in all dimensions of the human experience,” yet it “challenges the legitimacy of the assumption that human experience can be studied accurately through discrete disciplinary lenses,” and “recognizes that all knowledge claims are ‘situated’ claims in that they arise out of certain social/historical/cultural/personal contexts and therefore represent particular and necessarily partial perspectives.” Diane L. Moore, Overcoming Religious Illiteracy: A Cultural Studies Approach to the Study of Religion in Secondary Education (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007) 79.

601 Augustine, On the Catechizing of the Uninstructed 26.50. 602 Peter Lombard, Sentences 4.1.4.

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of religious objects as conduits of divine presence to the faith community.

Given the importance of objects associated with the sacraments, a variety of

religious objects are extant in the historical record in colonial Monterrey. This is made

clear in Governor Josseph Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia’s 1740 report. He devoted much

of his discussion about Monterrey not only to describing the physical characteristics of

the parish church but also the objects necessary for the administration of the sacraments.

The governor reported, “The parochial church consists of one nave, being constructed of

stone masonry, and it is still maintained with the collateral altar. . . . There is a reserve

supply of the Holy Sacrament in the said parish church.”603 Today many religious

artifacts can be seen in the Museo de Historia Mexicana in Monterrey, pointing to its

colonial past—processional crosses, pyxs to store the host for transport, monstrances,

chalices, images of Christ crucified, statues of the Virgin and the holy family, crucifixes,

and silver plates.604

The move towards analyzing the role of religion in material culture is a recent

development in scholarship.605 Protestantism predisposed early scholars of religion to

focus on beliefs, not things; however, current scholarship now recognizes the importance

603 Fernández de Jáuregui Urrutia, Description of Nuevo León, México, 92. 604 Museo de Historia Mexicana, “Virreinato,” accessed February 8, 2017,

http://www.3museos.com/es/2015/10/27/museo-de-historia-mexicana/. A painting of “Las Benditas Ánimas del Purgatorio” donated by Doña Francisca de Larralde and her late husband to the altar in 1767 can be seen in Roberto Jorge Rodríguez Lozano, La Catedral de Monterrey y sus guías (Monterrey, NL: Oficio Ediciones, 2004), 19.

605 S. Brent Plate cautions that some scholars misunderstand material religion as a means to work out their theoretical ideas and doctrines first followed by locating their “expression” in the material realm. In contrast, Plate claims that “ideas, beliefs, and doctrines begin in material reality,” and offers a working definition of material religion: “(1) an investigation of the interactions between human bodies and physical objects, both natural and human-made; (2) with much of the interaction taking place through sense perception; (3) in special and specified spaces and times; (4) in order to orient and sometimes disorient, communities and individuals; (5) toward the formal structures of religious traditions.” S. Brent Plate, “Material Religion: An Introduction,” Key Terms in Material Religion, ed. S. Brent Plate (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2015), 4.

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of materiality in fostering religiosity. This newfound interest in materiality has made

headways in both theoretical discussions of religion as well as cultural approaches to the

study of religion. In More Than Belief, Manuel Vásquez traces anti-materialist theories of

religion back to the onto-theological models of Rudolph Otto and Mircea Eliade. The

categories of “holy” and “sacred” allowed the theorists to escape the Cartesian anxiety of

contingency and finitude. Vásquez advocates for a materialist theory of religion that is

non-reductionistic. Thus, “the task of the scholar of religion is to show how embodiment

and embeddedness in time and place enable and constrain diverse, flexible yet patterned

subjective experiences that come to be understood as religious.”606 Vásquez is especially

concerned with the transnational production and circulation of religious bodies and

goods, lauding Thomas Tweed’s notion of hydrodynamics of religion and Colleen

McDannell’s study of material Christianity as examples of anti-essentialist and praxis-

oriented frameworks. Jennifer Scheper Hughes demonstrates the Latin American

intellectual strands that influenced Vásquez’s work, namely “the liberationist intellectual

concerns and commitments” inculcated during his Jesuit high school experience in San

Salvador.607

Other scholars have focused on their study of materiality on objects. Colleen

McDannell understands material Christianity as “a means by which both elite and non-

elite Christians express their relationship to God and the supernatural, articulate ideas

about life and death, and form religious communities.”608 McDannell’s work weaves

606 Manuel A. Vásquez, More Than Belief: A Materialist Theory of Religion (Oxford: Oxford

University Press, 2011), 7. 607 Consider Jennifer Scheper Hughes, “A Materialist Theory of Religion: The Latin American

Frame,” Method & Theory in the Study of Religion 24 (2012): 430-444. 608 Colleen McDannell, Material Christianity: Religion and Popular Culture in America (New

Haven & London: Yale University Press, 1995), 13.

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together a study of devotional objects, piety, and religious symbolism within popular

religion in America. McDannell envisions four primary categories of material religion:

artifacts, landscapes, architecture, and art. It is in this last category that David Morgan

has written extensively on, focusing especially on the role that images have played

throughout Western Christianity.609 Morgan argues viewers of religious images are

drawn into “imagined forms of embodiment” whereby they connect with the sacred other

as well as create a “collective or social body, the perceived or imagined community of

believers.”610 Rather than rejecting the body as irrelevant or as a distraction in the study

of religion, Morgan affirms the capacity of religious people to integrate the body and

reason to make sense of “techniques of the body,” for example, gestures such as

genuflection, making the sign of the cross, the orans position for prayer, etc.

Numerous material objects have already been alluded to in previous chapters.

Testators enumerate and bequeath a range of possessions, from houses and properties to

furniture and animals, from clothing and kitchen utensils to tools and weapons. Wills are

ideal texts to discern much about daily life in colonial Monterrey. They allude to

mundane aspects, such as the types of material use to make houses, furniture, bedding,

and clothing.611 Since a comprehensive study of material culture is beyond the scope of

this project, my focus now turns to devotional objects. What might the appearance of

these objects in will indicate about piety? Although the mere ownership of a devotional

609 Among David Morgan’s many works include Visual Piety (1998), The Sacred Gaze (2005),

and the edited volume, Religion in Material Culture (2010). 610 David Morgan, “The Look of the Sacred,” in The Cambridge Companion to Religious Studies,

ed. Robert A. Orsi (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 316. 611 Houses were made out of stone, cal and canto, or sun-dried mud (adobe). For example, see

AHM, Testamento de Pedro José de la Garza Quintanilla, 23 Diciembre 1788, Prot, vol. 20, exp. 1, f. 275, no. 152.

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object does not provide necessary information to know exact details about the testator’s

devotional life, ownership does suggest the object held enough value and significance to

be listed in a will, and scholars recognize how these objects were customarily employed

among the faithful. In fact, many of the devotional objects used then are still in use today.

Among the questions I aim to address include, what types of devotional objects appear?

How can the testators who bequeathed these objects be described and to whom did they

bequeath these objects? How were these objects used to encourage devotion to God,

Jesus, Mary, and the saints? And how was the body employed during such devotional

acts?

Devotional Objects

In addition to providing information concerning family structures, marriage, and

widowhood, the distributive clauses that comprise the fourth part of a will include a

wealth of material objects, ranging from common household goods like pots and pans to

ornate devotional objects like large canvas paintings and life-like effigies. Baroque

Catholicism’s use of the material ensured a proliferation of devotional objects. Testators

enumerated objects they intended to bequeath to family members, friends, parishes, and

convents. Apart from wills, formal inventories (inventario de los bienes) were often

drawn up after the testator’s death by executors indicated in their wills to safeguard

proper identification of all assets and allocation of goods to the named beneficiaries. The

appearance of devotional objects in wills, then, signal their economic value and spiritual

significance.

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Baroque Catholicism evoked strong emotions through material culture. Gloria

Fraser Giffords captures this sentiment:

Baroque owes its dispersal in large part to the Church’s attempt to recapture her straying flock with explosive drama and brilliance and, in the New World, to dazzle and astound the native populations. Chiefly promoted by the Jesuits, baroque was essentially an art in defense of the Faith, ‘a theological art carrying an intense spiritual message.’ The importance of defending Catholicism against the Protestant attack on the Eucharist, the infallibility of the pope, the saints’ intercession, and Mary’s immaculateness helped mold an artistic movement that triumphantly praised God and his servants. Everything was viewed in terms of conquest, and art reflected this with outbursts of emotion, drama, and zeal.612

From church architecture to everyday devotional objects, baroque culture impacted the

lives of the faithful. A few pious testators endowed chapels in the parish church dedicated

to Christ, the Trinity, Mary, or a saint. The priest Juan José Domingo Guerra left clerical

vestments to the chapels of Santa Rita and the altar of San Francisco Javier in the

cathedral for use by the priests who were to celebrate his requested masses on the third

and twelfth days of each month, honoring Saint Francis Xavier and Nuestra Señora de

Guadalupe.613 Other testators demonstrated their piety by donating goods and funds for

the fábrica de la iglesia, or materials for the celebration of the mass and the adornment of

the church or chapel.614 These gifts were not limited to the parish church and proved

especially important for popular religious chapels, too.615 Bread, wine, and wax were

612 Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light, 23. 613 AHM, Testamento del Bachiller Juan José Domingo Guerra, 6 Diciembre 1797, Prot., vol. 23,

exp. 1, f. 233 vto., no. 124. 614 The fábrica de la iglesia can also refer to the building materials for repairing or constructing a

church. The mayordomo who oversaw the funds was typically an outstanding member of the community. Consider, for example, Sargento Mayor Pedro Guajardo, an alcalde ordinario of Monterrey also served as justicia mayor and mayordomo of the fábrica de la iglesia.

615 Recall that María Báez Treviño bequeathed 100 pesos to purchase materials for mass at the chapel of Nuestra Señora del Nogal. AHM, Testamento de doña María Báez Treviño, 19 Enero 1726, Prot., vol. 11, f. 350, no. 135.

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standard gifts of the departed faithful at the funeral mass. Sacramentals, such as holy

water, incense, and candles, were employed to enhance worship. Holy oil was rushed to

the dying for last rites.616 These ritualized objects facilitated the community’s

participation in the sacraments, from cradle to coffin. In colonial Mexico clerical visitors

judged the spiritual conditions of a community based on whether or not the mass was

celebrated and the Word of God was heard.617 Bishops appointed local administrators to

oversee these funds, and occasionally women were selected to fill key roles in leadership.

In 1760, the Bishop of Guadalajara, Francisco de San Buenaventura Martínez de Tejada

named a woman remembered as especially devout, Doña Josefa Francisca Cantú del Río

y La Cerda, as “la mayordoma de la fábrica de la iglesia parroquial” and treasurer of

funds destined for the veneration of Nuestra Señora del Nogal.618

Elite testators built chapels on their haciendas complete with ritual objects

required for the mass. Some testators who desired to be remembered in post-mortem

masses constructed chapels, purchased ritual objects, and selected executors to ensure the

celebration of masses for their souls. Among the objects in the chapel at María Teresa

González’s Hacienda de Higueras was all of the “necessary ornaments,” including an alb,

a censer, a painting of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, tablecloths, a new missal,

616 When Capitán General José Salvador Lozano died suddenly, his death certificate noted that

they “barely arrived to anoint him with holy oil.” AHM, Certificación de muerte de General, 11 Octubre 1768, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 58.

617 The Bishop of Guadalajara, Francsico de San Buenaventura Martínez de Tejada, visited Laredo for three days in 1759. Without a permanent curate in Laredo, he baptized many children and confirmed over one hundred residents. In his letter to the viceroy, he lamented the spiritual conditions of the residents, “neither hearing Mass nor the Word of God.” Gilbert R. Cruz, Let There Be Towns: Spanish Municipal Origins in the American Southwest, 1610-1810 (College Station: Texas A & M University Press, 1988), 100.

618 Whereas male family members generally oversaw confraternities, there were more opportunities for women in leadership in their local parish. Israel Cavazos Garza, La Virgen del Roble: Historia de una Tradición Regiomontana (Monterrey: Impresora del Norte, 1959), 24.

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candlesticks, and a hollow silver cross filled with anointing oil.619 The inclusion of an

image of Our Lady among “necessary ornaments” for the mass demonstrates the cult’s

importance. Testators who owned small chapels noted when they lacked something

needed to celebrate the mass in order to cue their executors in as to what still needed to

be purchased.620 Whereas some devotional objects were used for corporate worship in

churches and chapels, others took on a more individual or home-based focus.

Wealthy testators owned ornate material objects for veneration; more modest

testators likewise owned less expensive ones. The devotional objects in wills ranged from

large paintings and statues to small crosses and rosary beads that would have been used

in church and home altars. Special features were sometimes alluded to by scribes. For

example, a 1699 inventory reveals religious items among one woman’s possessions as

“an old candlestick, a shawl without lace, one statue of Nuestra Señora with a silver

crown, two santitos [doll-like statues] from Michoacán” in addition to a twenty-eight-

year old slave with four children, two pounds of cacao, and three and one-half pounds of

sugar.”621 She would have worn a shawl at mass.622 Examples of large haciendas stocked

with religious images and other devotional objects appear throughout the colonial record.

619 AHM, Testamento de María Teresa González, 19 Junio 1754, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 231, no.

107. 620 For example, Doña Margarita Rodríguez de Montemayor listed all of the objects needed to

celebrate the mass in a chapel built by her son save tablecloths. The objects included a missal, an altar, a chasuble, an alba, an amito, and a stole. AHM, Testamento de doña Margarita Rodríguez de Montemayor, 6 Noviembre 1737, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 116 vto., no. 55.

621 AHM, Inventario de los bienes de Josefa González, 10 Diciembre 1699, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 70, no. 24b.

622 When Augustinian Recollect nun, María de San José, wrote about out her life on a rural hacienda, she recalled wearing a “shawl without lace” (el manto sin puntas) when going to hear mass and congregating during feast days. The editors in the English translation render it “my shawl had no lace.” For Spanish, María de San José, Word from New Spain: The Spiritual Autobiography of Madre María de San José (1656-1719), ed. Kathleen Myers (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1993), 112. For English, María de San José, A Wild Country Out in the Garden: The Spiritual Journals of a Colonial Mexican Nun, eds. Kathleen Ann Myers and Amanda Powell (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999), 22.

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A 1735 lease described a Jesuit-owned hacienda complete with a spacious house and a

wide range of objects for devotion, an ivory crucifix with Our Lady at the foot of the

cross, a large canvas (lienzo) of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, a canvas of San Gabriel, a

wooden cross, two benches and a table, a chair, candlesticks, and a confesionario

(confession manual).623 Juana de Urrutia brought a number of religious objects into her

marriage in addition to land, clothes, and silver plates.624 In particular, she owned a

rosary with a silver cross and an agnus dei, a locket containing a disc of wax impressed

with a lamb on it.625 Rosary beads facilitated the saying of Hail Marys, and agnus deis

were worn around one’s neck for divine favor, especially among women for assistance in

childbirth.626 In 1760, General José Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra charged those who

would maintain his house to entrust him to God and the Blessed Mother and continue the

practice of praying the rosary every night.627 In addition to clothing, jewelry, and other

fine ornaments, testators gave devotional objects to their spouses as wedding gifts. Just

before marrying his third wife, among the gifts one testator gave to his bride was “a gold

cross with fine emeralds.”628 Manuel Fernández Riancho y Villegas gave Leonor García

623 AHM, Arrendamiento de hacienda, 16 Marzo 1735, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1, f. 317, no. 131. 624 AHM, Testamento de José Andrés de Villarreal, 3 Abril 1800, Prot., vol. 25, exp. 1, f. 111, no.

49. 625 Agnus deis were blessed by the pope during his first year at pontiff and every seventh year of

his pontificate. In 1752, Benedict XIV (1740-1758) standardized and popularized the devotional practice. María Antonia Herradón Figueroa, “Cera y Devoción. Los Agnusdéi en la Colección del Museo Nacional de Antropología,” Revista de Dialectología y Tradiciones Populares 54, no. 1 (1999): 214.

626 For example, “un relicario con cera de agnus.” AHM, Testamento de José Andrés de Villarreal, 3 Abril 1800, Prot., vol. 25, exp. 1, f. 111, no. 49.

627 AHM, Testamento del Gral. José Lorenzo de Hoyos Solar y Piedra, 26 Agosto 1760, Prot., vol. 16, exp. 1, f. 156, no. 61.

628 AHM, Testamento de don José Joaquín de Mier Noriega, 31 Agosto 1790, Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 56, no. 27.

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de Pruneda a sliver-plated rosary with an image of the crucified Christ as sign of their

upcoming marriage.629

Images were important vehicles for popular devotion. Iconic representations of

the holy ones encouraged devotees to view them as being present in their daily lives,

working on their behalf.630 Baroque Catholicism placed a premium on images and

encouraged visual piety not only by celebrating the image in religious festivals,

pilgrimages, and masses, but also by gazing into the image, spending time with the image

while in prayer and meditation, and performing ritualized gestures when approaching and

leaving the image.631 In colonial Mexico the proliferation of images was made possible

by

local artisans (santeros), most with no formal training, made religious images (santos) for both churches and individuals. With little or no understanding of anatomy or perspective, and frequently receiving their inspiration from prints or engravings imported from Europe, the santeros used smoothed soft woods (pine and cottonwood) coated with locally prepared gesso and pigments to create their images on panels (retablos) or as sculpted figures (bultos). These images more

629 Technically, Manuel gave it to Bachiller Juan Bautista Baez Treviño, an ecclesiastical judge

with the Office of the Holy Inquisition, who in turn gave it Leonor. She accepted it and took it apart, keeping the beads for herself and sending the image of Christ back to her soon-to-be husband through the priest. Perhaps the priest blessed it, or was he selected as an intermediary for another reason? AHM, Se otorga recibo de herencia a favor de José Fernández Fajardo, 23 Octubre 1741, Prot., vol. 14, exp. 1, f. 32, no. 16.

630 Images often depicted those suffering in purgatory naked and waiting to be forgiven and granted admittance into heaven while the saints were praying to God and Jesus on their behalf. Castillo Flores comments: “El papel intermediario de los santos se generalizó gracias a la promoción de imágenes del purgatorio en las que las ánimas aparecían desnudas en medio de las llamas, esperando a ser perdonados para acceder al cielo, mientras la Virgen y los santos rogaban a Jesucristo y a Dios Padre por el perdón de sus hijo suplicantes.” Castillo Flores, “En el Nombre de Dios,” 20-21.

631 David Morgan defines visual piety as “the visual formation and practice of religious belief.” He continues, “As the set of practices, attitutdes, and ideas invested in images that structure the experience of the sacred, visual piety cancels the dualistic separation of mind and matter, thought and behavior, that plagues a great deal of work on art and religion.” Thus, “the act of looking itself contributes to religious formation and, indeed, constitutes a powerful practice of belief.” David Morgan, Visual Piety: A History and Theory of Popular Religious Images (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), 1-3.

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than make up for what they lack in realism and polish with an emotional unity of line, form, and color that is direct, sympathetic, and approachable.632

Santeros innovated new ways to make images less expensive by using tin rather than

imported European linen and copper.633 This undoubtedly contributed to their ubiquity.

In fact, images could be found in colonial Mexican churches, chapels, convents, and

increasingly homes. William H. Beezley adds, “During the eighteenth century, the home

altars of elites became known as oratories, implying a larger, officially sanctioned

site.”634 Oratories showcased an elite family’s religiosity by going “beyond mere chapels

by using religious art and icons throughout the rooms and halls, strategically placed

thereby manipulating the viewer’s perceptions through the purposeful relationships

between images and spaces.”635 Among the indigenous and those of mixed ancestries, the

colorful panoplies weaved symbols of traditional religion with Christianity, creating an

artistic synthesis metaphoric of the cultural and religious hybridity that had occurred.636

632 Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light, 39. 633 “Depending upon the region of origin, sacred images on tin, which replaced more expensive

images painted on imported linen and copper, are known as retablos, láminas, imágenes pintadas, or santos. . . . However, in nineteenth-century Mexico, sacred images painted on tin and displayed as an integral part of home altars were also referred to as retablos. If a saint was depicted, it was then called a retablo santo.” Elizabeth N.C. Zarur, “Introduction,” in Art and Faith in Mexico: the Nineteenth-Century Retablo Tradition, eds. Elizabeth Netto Calil Zarur and Charles Muir Lovell (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2001), 18.

634 William H. Beezley, “Home Altars: Private Reflections of Public Life,” in Home Altars of Mexico, ed. Dana Salvo (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1997), 94. According to Giffords, “‘Oratory’ refers to a specific building or section of a building set aside for divine worship, intended primarily to serve a school, an individual, or a family, rather than the general public; for example, a small chapel in a private house or within a church. While ‘chapel’ (capilla) can also refer to an oratory, it is used chiefly to designate either a partially enclosed portion of a church opposite the baptistery . . . or a small building with an altar to one side of the church. . . . Chapels were erected for masses or for devotions particular to a religious order or individual figure.” Giffords, Sanctuaries of Earth, Stone, and Light, 67.

635 Beezley adds, “For example, images re-created the stations of the cross whose mnemonics tell the passion of Christ, but also in more subtle ways as well individuals expressed personal feeling of devotion to one or another saint.” Beezley, “Home Altars,” 92.

636 If continuity has been maintained from the past, consider Dana Salvo’s Home Altars of Mexico (1997) to see the rich symbols employed by contemporary Mexicans as they decorate everyday and seasonal altars.

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By the nineteenth century domestic altars increased in popularity as a reaction to the

government’s efforts to secularize society.637

The home altar was a maternal space with clear links to Mexico’s indigenous past

and European ancestry.638 Meredith McGuire comments, “Touching objects, lighting

candles, and gazing on pictures or statues are all routine practices that link their

[women’s] domestic sacred space with the concerns of everyday life.”639 The body

played a crucial role in devotions, as gestures were made and limbs were contorted.

Devotees employed a variety of means to come into contact with an image. Serge

Gruzinski comments, “The Baroque body, seeking physical contact with the image, wore

scapulars, jewels, ornaments, and clothing covered with religious figures. Through its

visions, as well as its tattoos and body paintings, it became impregnated with images.”640

Kneeling, bowing, and making the sign of the cross would have been among the most

common of gestures. The home altar was ideal for saying daily prayers, the rosary, and

other devotional acts, yet it would have been normalized through repetition of practice

637 “Home altars grew in importance, it appears, as secularization advanced during the nineteenth

century. Those in urban areas certainly gained more significance as city councils began ordering that holy images in public niches outside buildings be moved inside to avoid disrespect from a population stepping away from church-dominated public space. This new urban legislation reflected efforts to make public life more secular by ending in this way the customs that required some show of reverence, such as kneeling or pausing to make the sign of the cross before icons, a tradition honored in the breach.” Beezley, “Home Altars,” 96.

638 Kay Turner notes, “The most ancient domestic altars dedicated by women in old Europe were conceived of as places for receiving and appealing to the maternal act of creation, the distinctive powers of fertility and giving birth. Archaeological evidence from Mexico suggests similar intentions for domestic shrines discovered at sites in Oaxaca and outside Mexico City at Teotihuacán, among others.” Kay Turner, “Voces de Fe: Mexican American Altaristas in Texas,” in Mexican American Religions: Spirituality, Activism, and Culture, eds. Gastón Espinosa and Mario T. García, 180-205 (Durham & London: Duke University Press, 2008), 182.

639 Although Meredith McGuire is speaking about modern Mexican American women and how they go about decorating their altarcitos, the statement can be applied to colonial times, too. Meredith B. McGuire, Lived Religion: Faith and Practice in Everyday Life (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 52.

640 Serge Gruzinski, “Images and Cultural Mestizaje in Colonial Mexico,” Poetics Today 16, no. 1 (1995): 75.

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and familiarity. By the end of the eighteenth century in central Mexico, traveling alms

collectors displayed “holy paintings, crosses, and effigies from rural and urban chapels

and churches . . . on home altars for several days or weeks,” generating revenue for local

religion.641 In Monterrey, based on what some testators listed in their wills, those with

home altars would have featured an image, especially of Christ or Mary or both, as well

as images of the devotee’s patron saints, affectionately referred to as “santitos.”642 The

cross, candles, effigies, and tablecloths would have added a touch of the liturgical,

flowers a touch of nature. A few reineros owned reliquaries and relics, too, which would

have been displayed, too, as direct links to the saints.

There seems to be a link between a testator’s patron intercessors and the images

they owned, yet because many testators eventually got around to claiming all of the saints

and angels in heaven, the link is rather general. In her 1724 will, Juana Treviño named a

number of intercessors, including the Virgin Mary, St. Anne, and St. Joseph as well as the

saint of her name, her guardian angel, and all of angels and saints in the heavenly

court.643 Juana possessed statues of Nuestra Señora del Pilar, Santo Cristo, and saints

Joseph and Anthony and had paintings of St. Francis of Paola and Nuestra Señora de

Dolores. Juana’s list of saints was heavily influenced by Spanish Franciscans, e.g., the

Spanish tradition of the Virgin’s apparition to St. James, known as Nuestra Señora del

641 Edward Osowski comments that “some Spanish authorities believed the wandering male

collectors and female altar-keepers split. After the images had sat on the home altars for several days or weeks, the alms gatherers safely locked them back up in their cases, and with their pack animals jingling with coins, they set off to another destination, eventually returning to their hometowns with the images and a supply of cash to fund local religion.” Edward W. Osowski, “Carriers of Saints: Traveling Alms Collectors and Nahua Gender Roles, in Local Religion in Colonial Mexico, ed. Martin Austin Nesvig (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico, 2006), 160.

642 The use of the Spanish diminutive “ito/ita” still remains common in northern Mexico. Among the goods owned by Josefa González were two “santitos de Michoacán.” AHM, Inventario de los bienes de Josefa Gonzalez, 10 Diciembre 1699, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 70, no. 24b.

643 AHM, Testamento de Juana Treviño, 26 Marzo 1724, Prot., vol. 11, exp. 1, f. 287, no. 110.

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Pilar, and the Italian founder of the Order of Minims, St. Francis of Paola, whose patron

was St. Francis of Assisi. The only valuables left behind by Nicolasa de la Garza were a

Santo Cristo worth 25 pesos and a branding iron.644 The will of Doña María Antonia del

Bosque, a widow who survived two husbands, lists a canvas of St. Anthony, two images

of Our Lady, and “todos los de más santos pequeños.”645 Relics, too, were devotional

objects that gave provided a sense of the supernatural and were considered to be valuable.

For example, Bishop Rafael José Verger left a reliquary (relicario) “with fragments of

bones from Saint Joaquin and Saint Anne” to the cathedral church for veneration.646

Images of Christ, both as a child with his mother and as an adult on the cross,

were popular devotional objects among Spanish descendants and the indigenous peoples

of the northeast. In addition to owning a few household items, her house, and the lot of

land surrounding it, Doña Isabel María Gómez de Castro possessed statues (bultos) of

Cristo Crucificado and Nuestra Señora de los Dolores.647 She added that she owned no

other goods, so her children had no need to enter into disputes over their inheritances.

Local historian José Antonio Portillo Valadez observes that “The oldest devotions and

images that exists in the city of Monterrey are [La Virgen] del Roble, la Purísima y San

Juan de los Lagos, the last one in Santa Catarina, N.L.; being images that do not have the

child Jesus in their arms.”648 Whereas the first two aforementioned devotions are found in

644 AHM, Testamento de Nicolasa de la Garza, 1 Enero 1709, Prot., vol. 9, exp. 1, f. 239, no. 87. 645 She bequeathed the images of Nuestra Señora del Carmen and Nuestra Señora de los Dolores to

two women. AHM, Testamento de doña María Antonia del Bosque, 27 Octubre 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 214 vto., no. 114.

646 AHM, Comunicados testamentarios del Ilmo. Dr. Fray Rafael José Verger, 4 de Julio 1790, Prot., vol. 21, exp. 1, f. 41, no. 23.

647 Doña Isabel gave her daughter, Manuela, the house, since her daughter invested almost 880 pesos into it. Manuela sold household goods and valuables (alhajas) to come up with the necessary capital. AHM, Testamento de doña Isabel María Gómez de Castro, 18 Diciembre 1798, Prot., vol. 24, exp. 1, f. 121, no. 48.

648 Portillo Valadez, Nuestra Señora del Roble, 15.

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many colonial wills, other popular cults among the indigenous peoples were devoted to

El Señor de Tlaxcala and El Señor de la Expiración. El Señor de Tlaxcala, a corn paste

image of Christ crucified, is still located in Bustamante (originally San Miguel Aguayo),

a town 80 miles north of Monterrey, home to the Tlaxcaltecans who were enticed by the

crown to move north in an effort to assuage the Chichimecas, a catch-all term for their

indigenous rivals.649 Bernabé García, a Tlaxcaltecan, obtained the image of Christ from

the town’s priest Nicholas de Saldivar, in 1688. After his death, Barnabé’s wife, Ana

María, bequeathed the image to the Tlaxcaltecans at San Miguel Aguayo under the

condition that they maintain the image in their parish church, show due reverence and

veneration for the image, and provide her with 18 fanegas (121 pounds) of corn annually

as long as she lived.650 The image plays a central role in the community’s annual patron

festival from 28 July to 6 August.

The cult of El Señor de la Expiración de Guadalupe, emerging in a small town

populated with indigenous families near Monterrey, arose after the devastating flood of

1715.651 Although these popular religious traditions rarely appear in wills despite their

geographical proximity to Monterrey, the reason for their absence is most likely due to

the fact that most of the testators were españoles rather than indigenous. Even though

indigenous receivers of divine messages were afforded a central role in the Virgin of

649 Bustamante was originally called San Miguel de Aguayo de la Nueva Tlaxcala until the

nineteenth century. 650 José Antonio Portillo Valadez, El Señor de Tlaxcala (Monterrey, NL: Tipográfica Rojas,

2008), 11. Also, Héctor Jaime Treviño Villareal, El Señor de Tlaxcala, 3rd. ed. (Monterrey, NL: Gobierno del Estado de Nuevo León/Secretaría de Administración/Archivo General del Estado de Nuevo León, 1986).

651 The mission of Guadalupe provided spiritual and religious services to the indigenous peoples of the area until 1756 when the mission was absorbed as a result of the mid-century secularization movement. Israel Cavazos Garza, “Algunos Fuentes para la Historia de la Evangelización en el Noreste,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 25 (1998): 481.

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Guadalupe and Nuestra Señora del Roble traditions, wills suggest that españoles

preferred to participate in their cults devoted to Mary and rarely promoted the indigenous

cults devoted to Christ. Furthermore, with the exception of the pan-Mexican cult of the

Virgin of Guadalupe popularized among eighteenth-century creoles, each city maintained

and promoted a particular apparition tradition or relic, which shaped its local religion.652

The plethora of local shrines provided colonial pilgrims with many options, as “bishops

encouraged virtual pilgrimages to iconic shrines as devotional exercises by issuing

indulgences and publishing promotional texts for them.”653 Like Cristo Aparecido, these

images of Christ provoked much sentiment and passion among the indigenous population

and were catalysts in the evangelization of northeastern Mexico.

Testators who enumerated devotional objects in their wills allude to the

importance of visual piety in colonial Monterrey. Popular Catholic devotions centered on

responding to the visual through looking, praying, meditating, and making appropriate

gestures with the body. Although wills and other colonial records do not explicitly

describe the role of images in the daily lives of reineros, the mere presence of such

objects in testaments offers some indication of their import. Some testators specify the

beneficiaries of the objects, others do not. Some objects were quite valuable

economically while others were not. Regardless of how much they were worth, the

spiritual value of these objects rested in their function as conduits of the divine. Religious

652 By the middle of the eighteenth-century, most pilgrims who visited the shrine of Our Lady of

Guadalupe were locals. Taylor writes, “when a colonial aristocrat from the far northern town of Monterrey vowed to visit the shrine to Guadalupe at Tepeyac in 1758 (soon after official papal recognition of the Virgin of Guadalupe as patroness of New Spain), her bishop substituted a different penance.” However, the arrival of pilgrims who lived far away slowly increased in the years after papal recognition of the Virgin of Guadalupe. William B. Taylor, Theater of a Thousand Wonders: A History of Miraculous Images and Shrines in New Spain (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 509.

653 Taylor, Theater of a Thousand Worlds, 509.

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objects encouraged devotion to God, Jesus, Mary, and the saints in churches, chapels, and

homes. A strong sense of presence attributed to these objects contributed to the idea that

help was never far. Reineros heard stories from the Bible and church history of holy men

and women whom they celebrated through feast and whom they called upon through

famine. They, too, had their stories of the miraculous.654 Through “ritualized acts,”

devotees used their bodies to worship, venerate, pray, and make gestures.655 In their

homes and at their communal places of worship, the devout said their prayers, recited

their rosaries, and asked for intercession in the presence of the divine.

The Fifth Part of the Will: Executors, Witnesses, and Notaries

After the last clause of a will, the final part commences with a descriptive

paragraph or two that offers a range of information, from a revocation and annulment of

previous testaments, codicils, poderes, memorias (reports), and other dispositions to

details about the scribe, from the date and place of writing to a list of those present during

the reading of the will. The signature of the executor and witnesses as well as the testator

and scribe appear immediately after. The concluding paragraph functioned as an

agreement whereby named executors would carry on the testator’s legacy. Regardless of

the size of the estate, every testator selected at least one executor (albacea). Late

medieval and early modern guidebooks on dying recommended European Catholics to

654 Recall the legend of Antonia Teresa, the Tlaxcalteca who calmed the raging river with a statue

of the Purísima Concepción. 655 I’m drawing on Catherine Bell’s notion of ritualization, which “involves the very drawing in

and through the activity itself, of a privileged distinction between ways of acting, specifically between those acts being performed and those being contrasted, mimed, or implicated somehow.” Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 90.

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select a good priest as one of the estate’s two or three executors.656 However, a dearth of

clergy in frontier towns made this recommendation untenable. The logistical constraints

of administering the sacraments pressed the limited clergy in the northern frontier. Still, a

few managed to serve as executors, though more often than not it was to family members

or close friends rather than mere parishioners. Around 10 percent of testators named a

clergy member as an executor, though these examples appear almost exclusively prior to

1777. In the two examples after 1777 both testators who selected a cleric as executor

were Spanish-born bishops.657 Clergy generally named family members who lived in and

around Monterrey rather than other members of the clergy. For example, in 1797 Matías

López Prieto, a canon penitentiary, named his sister, a friend (compadre), and a nephew

as executors.658 Some clergy members named a combination of clergy and family

members as their executors.659

In his study of sixteenth-century English wills, Christopher Marsh argues for

historians to focus on the networks of community members found in the “concluding

lines, with their lists of witnesses and executors” in an effort to grasp popular religion.660

These members were responsible for ensuring the requested masses for the dead were

being said. Testators overwhelmingly selected their close family members and friends as

executors who would be responsible to carry out the testator’s final wishes. The testator’s

network of family members and friends provided for social cohesion and community

656 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 39. 657 My sample includes the wills of two bishops, Rafael José Verger and Andrés Abrosio de

Llanos y Valdés. 658 AHM, Testamento del Lic. Matías López Prieto, 18 Marzo 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 174,

no. 98. 659 For example, see AHM, Testamento del Bachiller José Alejandro de la Garza, 1 Septiembre

1797, Prot., vol. 23, f. 200, no. 109. I did not include this will in my sample, however. 660 Marsh, “Departing Well and Christianly,” 244.

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during an otherwise tense moment of uncertainty and anguish, as half of all testators

faced death at the time of writing their wills. The two or three executors from this close

network were often asked to work together. In her will, Doña Juana de León chose the

notary public, José Fernández Fajardo, and her son, Juan García Pruneda, who was absent

from the city at the time, as her executors.661 Fernández Fajardo was tasked with

establishing a 6,000 peso chaplaincy but “the two of them together insolidum [sic]”

would fulfill the bequests in her testament. The small cadre likewise gave some security

given the many future unknowns—an executor could die, become ill or injured, or simply

relinquish the role. Testators were empowered to choose those who knew them well and

would most likely fulfill their cherished requests.

In her study of colonial wills from Colombia, Ana Luz Rodríguez González

demonstrates that serving as an executor entailed much work and responsibility.662 They

were sometimes rewarded economically for their services. Others, in fact, were also the

primary heirs of the estate, which provided extra motivation to fulfill their duties.

Executors were selected because they were either close family members or outstanding

members of the community who could be trusted and counted upon to fulfill their roles.

The role of executor carried with it the grave responsibilities to ensure not only the

settlement of debts but also the completion of pious bequests. Eire comments on the

situation in sixteenth-century Madrid:

The best of wills, if unfulfilled, could become the worst of wills. Everything depended on one’s heirs and especially on one’s designated executors, or albaceas, whose duty it was to present the testament to a judge within a month of

661 AHM, Testamento de doña Juana de León, 20 Marzo 1741, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 317, no.

151. 662 Ana Luz Rodríguez González, Cofradías, capellanías, epidemias y funerales: una mirada al

tejido social de la Independencia (Bogotá: Banco de la República/El Ancora Editoriales), 161

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the testator’s death and to implement all of its requests. The executors played a spiritual as well as a juridical role, because it was up to them to ensure “relief from the pain of purgatory.”663

The situation in Madrid could be applied to elsewhere in Spain’s vast empire. Executors

worked to ensure payment for the testator’s funeral and pious works, settlement of debts

and loans, and allocation of inheritance among heirs and beneficiaries. They not only

played a judicial role as legal parties responsible to follow through with the testator’s

pious bequests, but they also played a spiritual role in alleviating the testator’s suffering

in purgatory.

The agreement between testator and executors was made in the presence of

witnesses, community members invested in maintaining traditional rites of passage, and

the draftsperson. The number of witnesses varied from three to seven men according to

circumstance. Although women were designated as executors, they were not permitted to

be official witnesses.664 Testators who expressed their last will and testament verbally in

the presence of a notary were required to obtain at least three witnesses. However, if a

notary or colonial official acting as a scribe was not present, the testator normally

required at least five witnesses who were also residents of the town. If the testator was a

foreigner (forastero) or sought to make a closed will, seven witnesses were generally

needed. Thus, the number of witnesses depended on whether there was an official notary

present and how well the individual was known within the community. In Monterrey,

many wills list five men as witnesses. A cadre of names consistently appear as witnesses,

suggesting they fulfilled this function as outstanding men in the community capable of

663 Eire, From Madrid to Purgatory, 39. 664 Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 48.

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signing on behalf of a testator.665 Additionally, scribes also name other attendees who

were present during the giving of the testator’s last will and testament, though they

lacked an official role.666

The wills stored in Monterrey’s municipal archive were written within the town as

well neighboring villages and haciendas outside of the city. Normally, one copy of the

will was filed in the notebook of public instruments (cuaderno de instrumentos públicos)

by the local notary public or scribe and housed in the casa real.667 Wills written in

neighboring villages within Monterrey’s jurisdiction were also stored at the seat of local

government. When a testator was too ill to travel to Monterrey, the scribe traveled to the

testator’s residency. The role of notaries was indispensable to the last will and testament.

“As representatives of the ‘public faith’ (fe pública), notaries’ signatures conferred

judicial legitimacy to contracts.”668 Scribal rubrics, or flourishes of the pen, both certified

the document and personalized it. Notary officials were required to use official paper

with the royal seal, but there were times when none was available.669 The role of notary

called for flexibility. In some cases it required early morning visits. The alcalde was

summoned at six in the morning to the Hacienda del Mezquital to write down María

665 For example, in the 1790s some of the names that appear frequently as witnesses include José

Alejandro de Melo, Luis Antonio de la Serna y Alarcon, and his brother, Bartolomé de la Serna y Alarcon, and José Vicente Gómez de Castro, a notary public.

666 For example, José Mariano Rodríguez and Antonio Ramos de Castilla were present for Bachiller Juan José Guerra’s last will and testament in addition to four witnesses and the draftsperson, José Francisco de Arizpe. AHM, Testamento del Bachiller Juan José Guerra, 29 Noviembre 1797, Prot., vol. 23, exp. 1, f. 227 vto., no. 121.

667 Wills have been catalogued in a larger collection known as “protocolos,” or protocols. Some wills state clearly where they will be stored. For example, AHM, Testamento de doña Juana de León, 20 Marzo 1741, Prot., vol. 13, exp. 1, f. 317, no. 151. Also, see Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 48.

668 Juliette Levy, “Notaries and Credit Markets in Nineteenth-Century Mexico,” The Business History Review 84, no. 3 (2010): 467.

669 Bernardo Pérez Fernández del Castillo, Historia de la Escribanía y el Notariado en México (México, DF: Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1983), 42.

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Ygnacia de la Garza’s will.670 Scribes ensured testament adhered to proper form and

included necessary legal statements, such as the refrain revoking and annulling other

wills, codicils, and poderes.

What did notaries charge for their services? The exact pricing schema in colonial

Mexico has sometimes alluded historians.671 In her study of nineteenth-century notaries

in Mexico, Juliette Levy states that “Notaries charged fixed fees for documents much as a

church charged a fee for specific rites, and profits depended largely on client and

document volume.”672 In Monterrey, there are occasional references to notarial fees

(derechos). In 1750, Juan José Roel y Andrade, notary public (escribano público y de

cabildo) charged eight pesos to record the will of Doña Juana Nicolasa González

Hidalgo, the owner a modest estate.673 For a larger estate, testators charged up to 20

pesos.674 The same notary public charged five or six pesos for a poder.675 At least one

notary public was paid in wool from nine sheep.676 Occasionally, the notary public

identifies time and date of death. María de las Casas died at nine in the morning the day

670 AHM, Disposición testamentaria de María Ygnacia de la Garza, 31 Julio 1810, Prot., vol. 28,

exp. 152, f. 0. 671 Juliette Levy notes that “Records of fees were kept in separate ledgers of accounts, which were

not public and have not survived, but references to notarial fees exist, albeit rarely, and mainly in civil court cases in which the administrative costs are referred to. Apparently, notarial fees were flat, not commission-based. The notarial profit structure was very different from that of banks; in their role as facilitators of mortgages, notaries did not take deposits, did not issue notes, and did not charge interest rates or issue any loans. Notaries took none of the financial risk that banks would, but notaries did risk their reputations by informally vouching for the credit-worthiness of the borrowers they tied to lenders in the contracts they recorded.” Levy, “Notaries and Credit Markets in Nineteenth-Century Mexico,” 467.

672 Levy, “Notaries and Credit Markets in Nineteenth-Century Mexico,” 459-478. 466. 673 AHM, Testamento de doña Juana Nicolasa González Hidalgo, 30 Mayo 1750, Prot., vol. 15,

exp. 1, f. 101, no. 49. 674 AHM, Testamento de Antonio Fernández, 3 Agosto 1751, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 128, no. 64. 675 For an example of five pesos, see AHM, Se confiere poder al Lic. Francisco Tomás Cantú Rio

de Cerda, 2 Julio 1750, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 103 vto., no. 50. For an example of six pesos, see AHM, Se confiere poder a José de Oiaregui (sic), 26 Abril 1751, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 118 vto., no. 57.

676 AHM, Testamento del Capitán Ignacio de la Garza, 28 Enero 1735, Prot., vol. 12, exp. 1, f. 312, no. 129.

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after dictating her will.677 Sometimes the notary public, or the draftsperson, added his

fees to the total cost. For example, Doña Ana de Jesús Mireles, a widow and resident of a

district of the city known as Agua Fria, sold a slave, a 40-year-old “poco más o menos”

mulata slave, to a woman from Cadereyta for 96 pesos “including the fees of the

writing.”678 However, other documents reveal the actual cost of the notarial fees at four

pesos.679 There are also examples of notaries exempting a fee for writing documents. In

some cases, the notary public listed that the administrative fee had not yet been paid and

was due.680 The cost varied by type of document, too. For example, the fee for writing a

contract for the sale of water in Real y Minas de San Carlos del Vallecillo was 12 pesos,

whereas the notary public, José Fernández Fajardo, charged 12 pesos for an original 1735

lease of an hacienda along with two copies.681

Conclusion

The final two parts of colonial wills demonstrate that testators functioned as

active participants in their communities. Male and female testators prepared for death by

declaring their debts, enumerating their possessions, designating their heirs and

beneficiaries, and selecting reliable executors from among their families and friends.

Whatever was left over from their debts, funerals, and pious bequests was divided up

677 AHM, Testamento de Ma. de las Casas, 21 Noviembre 1703, Prot., vol. 7, exp. 1, f. 212, no.

102. 678 AHM, Venta de mulata esclava, 16 Marzo 1781, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 326, no. 160. 679 AHM, Venta de una mulata esclava, 28 Noviembre 1780, Prot., vol. 18, exp. 1, f. 368, no. 186. 680 Juan José Roel y Andrade noted that Manuel Fernández Riacho Villegas, a captain in the

Spanish military infantry of Monterrey, gave power to Antonio Gil Saldaña, though “he [Manuel] had not paid the fees, and he owes them and should pay them.” AHM, Se confiere poder a Antonio Gil Saldaña, 13 Julio 1748, Prot., vol. 15, exp. 1, f. 22 vto., no. 13.

681 “Derechos por el original y dos testimonios 12 pesos.” AHM, Venta de agua, 26 Marzo 1773, Prot., vol. 17, exp. 1, f. 287, no. 27.

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among the heirs unless otherwise noted. Male testators with children declared who would

serve as caretakers of their children after they died. Usually, they designated their wives.

Wills reveal much about marriages, dowries, and arras. Most testators were married, and

some of them more than once. Widowhood, in particular, gave women opportunities not

normally provided for them. Widows exercised autonomy over their dowries, gifts,

inheritances, and estates. They made loans to others in the community, rented out

farmland and animals, ran small businesses, and hired workers, all of which impacted the

local economy, and they lived active religious lives through devotional objects.

The study of material religion is a recent development in field of religious studies.

By taking materiality seriously, scholars have come to appreciate the many textures of

daily religious life for ordinary people. In particular, material religion opens up avenues

for understanding devotional patterns of baroque Catholics. Devotional objects were

attributed with powerful, symbolic meanings. These objects could be found throughout

colonial towns—in churches, convents, and homes. The appearance of devotional objects

in wills underscores not only the economic but also the spiritual value placed upon such

objects and illuminate the everyday religious lives of testators. Images of Christ, Mary,

and the saints signal their presence as protectors, intercessors, and miracle-workers in

times of need and despair. Elite testators stocked endowed chapels with objects necessary

for celebrating the mass, especially masses for the dead. Images became ubiquitous in

colonial Mexico as santeros developed cheaper ways to produce them. Devotional objects

were not merely religious ornaments to remind reineros of their religion, but reineros

interacted with them through their bodies, kneeling, bowing, signing the cross, and saying

their prayers. Images provided a sense of divine presence, and other devotional objects,

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such as crosses, candles, and tablecloths, sacralized space, encouraging the practice of

domestic piety.

The conclusion of a colonial will reveals the testator’s social network and the

grave responsibilities placed upon them. Executors were tasked with not only carrying

out the testator’s wishes concerning their material goods, but also their pious bequests,

which affected their standing in the afterlife. They were often primary heirs to the

testator’s estate, too. Wives and daughters were selected as executors along with other

family members and friends. The clergy were rarely selected probably due to a shortage

and their heavy workload. Their role, however, in the administration of last rites was

crucial in the testator’s final days. Most male testators and a few female testators signed

their names to conclude the will. Those who could not sign their names asked proxies to

fulfill the required duty. Male witnesses signed their names as the will became a social

and living document with the community. Finally, a notary public or scribe ensured the

legality of the will, crafting it according to the standards of the day and marking it

uniquely with a flourish. Most testators paid anywhere from a few pesos to more than 20

pesos for a will, though the amount varied on a few factors. Wills and other official

documents were stored by the local government for public record.

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CONCLUSION: CONTINUITIES AND DISCONTINUITIES IN RELIGIOUS PIETY

In 1700, Monterrey was a small, remote village in the borderlands of northeast

Mexico. By 1810, the city became the major administrative and ecclesiastical center of

the region, awaiting its next transformation via industrialization. The life of reineros was

challenging, forcing residents to endure hardships on the rugged terrain with long, hot

summers and cool temperatures with little humidity in the winter months. The threat of

natural disaster, plagues, and possible invasion remained real and sometimes imminent.

Residents turned to their Catholic faith in times of despair and times of joy. Baroque

piety promoted the glory of the church through ostentatious rituals, fostered a sense of

community, and linked the living and the dead. A theology of sacred immanence

promoted the idea of presence; Jesus, Mary, and the saints were manifested in the

devotional images and objects that represented them. Monterrey, like many other

Mexican towns, has its own Marian apparition story and advocate. Despite their

impoverished circumstances, reineros sought ways promote the splendor and grandeur of

the church and her rituals both in liturgical and extra-liturgical settings. The community’s

economic elites invested considerable assets in an effort to build, rebuild, and adorn their

places of worship and veneration as evidenced by their wills. Notaries and colonial

officials adhered to the cultural norms of the day when they recorded their fellow

reineros’ last wills and testaments. To what extent are wills reflective of the population?

By1791, Monterrey was in between the population the nearby towns of Saltillo

and San Esteban. With a population 7,700, Saltillo was larger than Monterrey, though

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San Esteban was smaller with 3,500 residents.682 Alma Victoria Valdés finds that only 2

percent of those who died in Saltillo during 1800-1805 died with a will, whereas 15

percent of those who died in San Esteban died with a will during the same time.683 By

contrast, my research has revealed that almost 4 percent of all dead in Monterrey died

testate during roughly the same time period. Compared to early modern France, these

numbers seem paltry, where 40 percent of the population made wills in eighteenth-

century Marseille, for example.684 Nevertheless, Monterrey’s burial records are full of

references that the deceased did not need to make a will. Sometimes a reason is given,

such as being poor. Since children (párvulos) could not draft wills, the percentage of

those who died testate goes up from almost 4 percent to about 7 percent (see Table 11)

when children are excluded. The percentage would increase even more if we knew how

many of these were excused from writing wills either due to poverty or younger than age

12 or 14 to establish testamentary capacity, depending on gender.685

682 By 1793, Saltillo had about 11,000 if its hinterland is included. Offutt, Saltillo, 1770-1810, 187,

193. 683 One reason these percentages are so small is that the author includes all of the deceased,

including children and the poor who did not need to write a will, which she admits alters the data. Overall, she found 82 wills written from 1800-1805, 56 by residents of San Esteban and 26 by residents of Saltillo. Burial records indicate a total of 1,222 deaths in Saltillo and 530 deaths in San Esteban during this timeframe. Valdés, Testamentos, Muerte y Exequias, 54, n. 40.

684 Hoffman, “Pious Bequests in Wills,” 4. 685 Although burial records indicate if the deceased was a child (párvulo), they fail to state how old

the single (soltero/a) person was, and surely some of these would have been excused from writing wills during to their age as well.

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Years Number of Deaths (excluding children)

Number of Funerals with Vigil, Mass, and High Cross Procession

Number of Wills

1734-1743

336 147 (44%) 23 (6.8%)

1795-1804

1,118 100 (9%) 79 (7.1%)

Table 11: Number of Deaths, Elaborate Funerals, and Wills,

1734-1743 and 1795-1804

By employing the methodologies of local and lived religion, it has been the aim of

this project to understand the ways in which ordinary reineros lived out their religious

and cultural commitments. Qualitative and quantitative data have been presented in an

effort to convey religious practices on the ground. The design of this study has attempted

to take the reader through the structure of colonial wills, from introductory matters, such

as the preamble and demographic information, to concluding statements and signatures of

those involved. It has been asserted that despite their limitations, wills provide valuable

historical documents that provide information concerning everyday reineros. Although

the destitute did not write wills, there is a range of testators in terms of status in the

community, wealth, and education level. The majority of testators in this study would

have been considered españoles, descendants of peninsulars born in the New World. A

testator’s identify was important for matters of legitimacy and inheritance. They not only

identified where they were born, but also where their parents were born. As the

eighteenth century advanced, fewer reineros were born in Spain. A careful selection of

marriage partners maintained the desired look of an español. The honorific title of don or

doña or other military or clerical titles appear before most of their names, signifying their

heightened status in the community. Most male testators could sign their names, most

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female testators could not. Many testators owned private haciendas outside of the town

complete with herds of goats and sheep, farm equipment, and fruit trees. A few testators

appear to have worked on these haciendas.

Wills functioned as religious and legal documents. Although notaries and

draftspersons adhered to a general formula published in handbooks, resulting in

remarkably similar testaments in the Spanish-speaking world, wills convey something

personal about testators. For example, in the will’s introduction testators called upon

particular saints to defend them both here on earth and in the afterlife. The most common

intercessors in colonial Monterrey were the Virgin and her most pure spouse, Joseph.

Thus, it is no coincidence that over time the names Mary and Joseph are given more

frequently to their children as the church encouraged devotions to the holy family. The

use of Jesús as a first name, however, is exceedingly rare in the colonial record.686 Over

two-fifths of testators named their guardian angels and name saints as protectors.

However, roughly one-fifth of testators do not name an intercessor with no significant

change in the data over time. Overall, around 15 percent of testators gave gifts to promote

the cult of the Virgin in the name of one of her titles, namely Nuestra Señora de

Guadalupe, Nuestra Señora del Roble, and Nuestra Señora de Dolores, though this was

slightly more common before 1777.

Evidence from wills suggests that reineros remained committed to baroque

Catholic practices, even though there are significant shifts in testamentary data. After the

establishment of the Diocese of Linares in 1777, more testators preferred their funerals

686 Albeit rare, the last name “de Jesús” does appear occasionally in the Protocolos collection.

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without pomp or little pomp, and they were more likely to request a simple funeral. One’s

perceived ethnicity and socioeconomic standing affected the type of funeral and place of

burial. The early bishops of Monterrey were Spaniards, educated in the Old World, and

two of them were consecrated by a reforming archbishop of Mexico City, Alonso Núñez

de Haro. Enlightened clerics preached against excessive, showy rituals and argued for

reasoned simplicity. They joined with state officials in advocating for burial outside of

the city to ward off disease and epidemics. The simple and humble funeral and burial

emerged as a key practice in this new piety. Although this project does not have the

benefit of sermons and diocesan records indicating how the reform project was carried

out in Monterrey, testaments indicate that the message of simplicity and humility

resonated with many.

An increased number of testators opposed funeral pomp and ceremony as the

eighteenth century progressed, yet reineros did not completely opt out of traditional

funerals and burial practices. They still requested burial in the local parish church, though

they were less likely to specify an exact location over time.687 They asked en masse for

Franciscan habits to assist their afterlife experience. They remained committed to asking

for saintly intercession to assist them in their final hour, and they remained resolute in

requesting masses for the dead, establishing chaplaincies, becoming members of

confraternities, and giving charitable gifts. Testators bequeathed a wide array of goods to

benefit their souls and the souls of their family members and friends. Those with

sufficient economic resources often asked for a number of suffrages, namely the mass,

687 Nearly half of all testators specify an exact place of burial prior to 1777, whereas only 36

percent do afterwards.

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prayers, and charitable gifts, in an effort to enhance their salvific standing with God and

community.

Over the course of the eighteenth century, testamentary data reveal a number of

significant changes concerning pious activities. The average and median number of pious

bequests per testator dropped as did the giving of charitable gifts. Fewer testators gave

images or money to adorn a church or chapel and fewer scribes opened the will with a

pious bequest as custom had established. Chaplaincies decreased by one-half and request

for novenas decreased by two-thirds. When testators requested masses, sometimes they

asked for a symbolic number of masses, drawing on the rich symbolism of numbers

found in the history of Christianity. Less affluent testators turned to extra-liturgical

avenues of local religion, such as the Third Order of Franciscans. Devotional life was

enhanced by the use of home altars. Burial records reveal that fewer reineros were given

the most elaborate of funerals (see Table 11).

However, testamentary data also reveal that a number of baroque characteristics

remained steady and in some cases increased over the eighteenth century. Masses to

benefit others slightly increased as did charitable gifts to orphans, the poor, and the

confraternity devoted to the Benditas Ánimas. More testators requested burial in a

Franciscan habit, and nine out of ten testators requested a church burial. Beginning in the

1750s, there was a dramatic increase in the use of the name “María” for testators and

their children, while the name “Joseph,” or José, held steady for the entire period under

study.688 The increased usage of the Virgin’s first name coincides with the heightened

688 “José” appears twice as often as “Joseph” or “Josseph” among testators in my sample.

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devotion and honor given to Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe as the patroness of the New

World, as declared by Pope Benedict XIV in 1754. Other saints also were called upon by

testators in wills. After 1777, twice as many testators asked for intercession from their

guardian angels and name saints and three times as many ask for intercession from all of

the saints of the heavenly court.

Some aspects of the colonial will changed over time as well. Wills became

smaller, with fewer clauses indicating their possessions and bequests. The average

number of clauses fell by seven and the median by six. However, about 90 percent

opened with an invocation to God, and about one-half mention Mary and Joseph as

intercessors. Wills on the whole do not appear to become secular over time in my sample,

though there are a few examples that minimize references to religion. One would need to

study wills throughout the nineteenth century to determine the extent to which wills

moved away from religious language and towards a secular tone exclusively. Since this

study did not take in consideration differences among the language used by notaries and

administrative scribes, aside from the former’s use of Latin and abbreviations, another

potential area of research would be to discern similarities and differences between the

two types of authors.

Exact causes as to why certain practices changed over time and others did not can

be allusive to ascertain. As prescriptive documents, wills do not directly state the raison

d'être for why this and not that. Hints along the way, such as requests for “humble”

burials, are what historians are given. I have proposed a cluster of reasons each impacting

the situation in Monterrey. This multivalent perspective not only allows for

understanding why the changes over time occurred but also recognizes that outliers are

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bound to occur. I have argued for an interplay among poor economic conditions,

Franciscan ideals, enlightened piety, and policies enacted by the crown in an effort to

understand the changes over time.

The poor economic conditions that most reineros endured limited their abilities to

make pious bequests. As a frontier town in the borderlands, the residents of Monterrey

were faced with a variety of challenges amid a fluctuating population. The residents of

Monterrey suffered through various epidemics, such as malaria, cholera, and yellow

fever.689 Very few testators named their own souls as inheritors, as the church had

discouraged the practice. Those who made multiple bequests, asked for more than 100

masses, gave charitable gifts, and adorned the church were typically among the wealthiest

of residents. Some even sponsored feast day celebrations in honor of their patron saint

and funded local chapels. Poorer testators generally asked for a humble funeral and made

the required alms offering. The majority of testators were somewhere in the middle,

making a handful of bequests. Most of the residents never approached the kind of

ostentatious funerals of the wealthy of Madrid or Mexico City. Over time, wills

incorporated a larger swath of the economic spectrum. As a result, fewer testators owned

land, owned more than 100 head of animals, and brought or gave dowries. Wills had

fewer clauses because testators on the whole owned fewer items to bequeath.

The presence of the Franciscans impacted the way everyday Catholics lived out

their faith in colonial Monterrey. Although they were few in number at the convent, wills

were written in an area influenced by the Franciscans. Saint Francis of Assisi was among

689 Santiago Roel counts no fewer than 13 major epidemics between 1802 and 1903. Santiago

Roel, Nuevo León: Apuntes Históricos (Monterrey, NL: Ediciones Castillo, [1938] 1977), 138.

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the cadre of saints mentioned in wills. Reineros seemed to embrace their economic woes

and withstand them through the lens of humility and poverty. A few testators early on

sought humble funerals even before it became a rallying cry among the enlightened

clergy. Those most privilege tended to give the most away in their wills. For those who

could not become Franciscan, they sought membership in the Third Order and were

increasingly buried in the Franciscan habit despite the extra expense. When the parish

church was in disarray in the early eighteenth century, reineros were buried in the

Franciscan convent. Prior to the establishment of the Jesuit College and after its demise,

the Franciscans would have been among the few engaged in formal education. However,

with fewer friars and a humble convent, one would consider the Franciscan influence to

have been greater at the beginning than the end of the eighteenth century, a time when

more secular clergy lived in Monterrey. If so, then why did a significant minority of

testators reject funeral pomp by the century’s end?

By the early nineteenth century, the town had grown significantly as a result of its

newfound status as an ecclesiastic center. The distance on treacherous roads between

Monterrey and other urban centers likely insulated it from the new theological movement

of the reformers. That changed with the emergence of the new diocese. The increased

presence of secular clergy and diocesan officials at the cathedral and college-seminary

eventually affected the practices of everyday Catholics. The reform Catholic agenda was

two-fold. The enlightened reformers followed the likes of Erasmus and the Jansenists as

they preached against an overreliance on the externals of the faith. They called for a turn

inward, privatizing piety. Sermons, pamphlets, and correspondence between officials in

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Mexico City and Monterrey would have likely confirmed this.690 A greater emphasis on

the individual coupled with Bourbon policies saw a move away from traditional forms of

devotion that encouraged communal life. Ecclesiastical mandates restricted the formation

of new confraternities and state taxes placed a burden on those who would make pious

bequests after 1804. Wills reflect the drop in chaplaincies, leading to fewer masses for the

dead. Beginning in 1766, eleven years before the establishment of the diocese, there is a

significant uptick in the number of testators who ask for little or no pomp and a humble

burial. From 1777-1810, over one-third of testators specified no or moderate pomp and a

humble funeral in their wills. Burial inside of the parish church, later cathedral, continued

for elite reineros until an outside cemetery was established behind the chapel of La

Purísima Concepción in 1819, fulfilling the crown’s mandate for health reasons. Burial

outside of the cathedral effectively displaced the hierarchy of church burial and

dislocated the symbiotic link between the living and the dead.

Wills demonstrate that testators functioned as active participants in their

communities and served as an avenue for testators’ agency. Testators prepared for death

by ordering their estates and preparing their souls for the afterlife. Debts were declared,

assets were listed, heirs were named, and executors were chosen. Masses were requested,

images were bequeathed, and funeral arrangements were made. After all funeral expenses

and pious bequests were paid and debts were settled, inheritors kept what was left.

Testators revealed important details about their dowries, marriages, and children. Their

690 Unfortunately, the early records of the college seminary are no longer extant; however,

Monterrey’s residents undoubtedly heard many sermons from priests trained at the college-seminary. For more on parish records in Monterrey, see Tomás Mendirichaga Cueva, “Breve Reseña del Archivo Parroquial de la Catedral de Monterrey,” Humanitas. Anuario del Centro de Estudios Humanísticos 3 (1962): 377-388. For an overview in English, see Bolton, Guide Materials for the History of the United States in the Principal Archives of Mexico, 410-419.

280

inheritors tended to be family members. Wills also reveal that widows particularly had

important economic and spiritual responsibilities over their households. They ran

businesses, made loans, and oversaw hired laborers. Women, in general, were especially

prone to bequeath images to churches and chapels for adornment. Both large and small

images consisting of paintings and statues appear in wills as well as small devotional

objects like crosses, rosary beads, and candles. These and other similar objects suggest

the maintenance of family altars, traditionally delegated to the woman of the house.

Death was an event that beckoned the community together for the salvation of

souls and the transfer of resources to the next generation. The rituals and ceremonies

concerning death and dying unified the church militant on earth, the church triumphant in

heaven, and the church penitent in purgatory. The colonial will spoke both to the

uneasiness and the severity of the situation. From the crisp, yellowed folios flows a blend

of official and local piety weaved together into a mosaic of faith and practice. Rather than

perceiving baroque Catholicism as unchanging and monolithic, I have argued that wills

point to key changes in piety over time. Residents of Monterrey maintained traditional

baroque practices throughout the eighteenth century even as new practices emerged and

old ones faded into the past. In this respect, religious practices in colonial Monterrey

resemble closely those uncovered by scholars who have studied northern New Spain in

places like Saltillo, San Esteban, San Antonio, and New Mexico.691 The baroque

background and theology that provided a rationale for pious activities in the colonial

691 Hence, I have pointed out similarities and differences among testators and their practices to

reduce the idea of reinero exceptionalism based on research provided by colonial scholars of Mexico, including Pamela Voekel’s Alone Before God (2002), Martina Will de Chaparro’s Death and Dying in New Mexico (2007), José Gabino Castillo Flores’ “En el Nombre de Dios” (2009), Brian Larkin’s The Very Nature of God (2010), and Amy M. Porter’s Their Lives, Their Wills (2015).

281

period, described colonial Monterrey as a northeastern outpost with limited resources,

even though it grew throughout the eighteenth century. We have examined the range of

pious activities among testators, and identified trends related to the pious practices

concerning funerals, masses, alms, and charitable gift giving. A cluster of conditions

contributed to these trends throughout the eighteenth century and beyond.

282

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