Primo Feliciano VelÁsquez was born at Santa MarÍa del Rio in the state of San Luis PotosÍ, June 6, 1860. Before he was nine years of age, on account of promise shown in the school-room, he was taken in hand by the village priest, who taught him Latin and later secured for him admittance to the Seminario Conciliar at the capital city of San Luis PotosÍ. He was a diligent student and completed his study of law on October 23, 1880. Although his legal career opened auspiciously, he preferred to devote himself to journalism. In 1883 he founded, at San Luis PotosÍ, a publication intended to promote the celebration of the Iturbide centennial, through which he established a standing among the eminent literary men of Mexico. In 1885, in company with several others, he established El Estandarte (The Standard), a periodical bitterly opposed to the State Government, which caused him many vexations and penalties. VelÁsquez has made a special study of local history and archÆology. His Descubrimiento y Conquista de San Luis PotosÍ (Discovery and Conquest of San Luis PotosÍ), received recognition from the Royal Spanish Academy. His Instruccion pÚblica en San Luis PotosÍ durante la DominaciÓn espaÑola (Public Instruction in San Luis PotosÍ during the Spanish Domination) was published in the memoirs of the Mexican Academy, of which he has been a correspondent since 1886. His Coleccion de Documentos para la historia de San Luis PotosÍ (Collection of documents for the History of San Luis PotosÍ) in four volumes, was published between 1897 and 1899. Senor VelÁsquez has during recent years returned to the practice of law.

THE TLAXCALAN SETTLEMENTS.

In this year of 1589, in which peace was arranged, Santa MarÍa del Rio was founded by Guachichiles and Otomis on lands of the Hacienda of Villela and at a place called San Diego de Atotonilco. Of the villages of our State, this one and Tierra Nueva count among their founders individuals of Otomi stock. The other colonies established were formed with Indians brought from Tlaxcala, either because that city was populous, or because of its relative culture, or—what is more probable—because of its unshakeable loyalty to the Spaniards. It is asserted that four hundred families set out from the ancient republic for these parts, by order of the Viceroy, Don Luis de Velasco II (1591), and with the aid of Friar JerÓnimo Mendieta. Friars Ignacio de Cardenas and Jeronimo de ZÁrate brought them and distributed them in Tlaxcalilla—on the outskirts of this city of San Luis, close by the congregation of Santiago, which was of Guachichiles—in San Miguel, Mexquitic, Venado, San AndrÉs, Colotlan, and Saltillo. It can easily be believed that these colonists would not readily consent to abandon their soil and come to such a distance to serve as a protection against barbarians and as a guarantee of their obedience. Far from it; they stipulated that they should enjoy the same privileges as if they were noble-born Castillians; that they should go on horse and bear arms; and that their towns, in which no Spaniards were to live, should measure three leagues on each side.

ANDRES DE OLMOS.

God, who holds aloft with his right hand a torch to light the way of his creatures and to fructify, in the very field of death, the germs of life; behind the bearded divinities with dress of steel and armed with thunderbolts; from the region of light, the east, that they might anoint with the oil of charity, the victims of greed, and resuscitate for Heaven those dead for the world, sent the friars, shorn and shaven, unshod, clad in sackcloth, with no shield but their faith, with no weapon but the Gospel. Among these was that notable man, who wandered through the whole Huasteca, while the Guachichiles still obstinately fought their fierce battles; so wise was he that, besides his miracle-play of The Last Judgment and Conversations, Sermons, and Tractates, all written in Aztec, he left grammars and vocabularies of that language and of the Totonaco and Huastec, as well as many other books for the instruction and admiration of missionaries, philologists and historians; so poor, that, when he died, there was nought but a rosary, some beads, a disciplina[7] and a cilicio,[8] left to his hosts in token of gratitude; so temperate, that he did not in the least seek those things which the appetite naturally desires, nor took pleasure in them, but ate whatever was placed before him, although bad in savor and smell; so strong that, after bearing a heavy weight of years, going on foot through wastes and wilds, in a trying climate, without any kind of comfort,—not only did he not choose to accept the rest and shelter which his brethren urged upon him, when they saw him old, asthmatic, insect-bitten to the degree that he looked like a leper, but, glorying in his natural strong constitution, again betook himself to the mountains where the warlike Chichimecs had their strongholds, to preach to them for the last time, in the name of the Crucified, a gospel of obedience and peace.

Already you know, gentlemen, that I speak of the friar, Andres de Olmos, companion of the venerable ZumÁrraga.

MARTYRS TO THE FAITH.

In the New, as in the Old World, in the deserts as in the cities, in the mountains as in the plains, the Gospel,—light and truth, refreshment, hope and delight at once,—has to subjugate all peoples, to soften the fierce and uncultured and to reduce to peace, order, and progress, whatever may be the language in which it be announced. By divine arrangement the doorposts must be marked with blood, with blood of innocent victims, gentle and pure, that the avenging angel may pass by and not wet his sword with the blood of the first-born. Thus, in the northeast, four leagues from Zacatecas, a little after the year 1556, kneeling and with the crucifix in his hand, Friar Juan de Tapia yielded his blood to the sharp arrows of the Guachichiles; thus, Friar Juan Cerrato shed his blood at the hands of the pagans, to whom he came from Jalisco, that he might raise them from their rude condition and bring them to a knowledge of their Creator and to the bosom of the Holy Catholic Church; thus, the friars, Francisco Doncel and Pedro de Burgos inundated with their red life-fluid the deep gorge of Chamacuero, where, fierce as tigers, the Chichimecs hurled themselves upon them.

Father Doncel was returning from Patzcuaro with Friar Pedro, carrying a crucifix which he had ordered made for the Villa of San Felipe, of the convent of which he was guardian. Looking to the security of the image, they came accompanied by soldiers; but, as these fled at the moment of attack by the Indians, they left the holy monks abandoned and helpless. As was his duty in such a crisis, Father Doncel knelt and, raising the crucifix aloft, lifted up his voice in prayer. Devoted to their sublime mission, both the friars suffered death from the furious rage of the savages, which, not content with blood and with stripping off the garments to deck itself in them, and to run races thus garbed, uttering beast cries, sawed off the heads, tore off the skull caps, and wore them, to make display of its triumph. That image of Jesus is still venerated in San Felipe, under the name of the SeÑor de la Conquista; and that gorge in which these monks perished is still called the Arroyo de los Martires (Gorge of the Martyrs).

Near by, at four leagues distance from Colotlan, is the spot where Friar Luis de Villalobos sealed by a glorious death, in 1582, the doctrine which he taught the heathen; not far distant is where Friar AndrÉs de la Puebla was cruelly beaten, in 1586, and the skin was torn off his head, from the eyebrows upward, while he was denouncing idolatry and intoning the divine praises. Ours, is that land of Charcas, where also suffered martyrdom, the friar, Juan del Rio, brother of the general of that name, who made the final campaign against the Chichimecs. One day in 1586, when the Spaniards had sallied from the town, a body of Indians attacked it and stole the cattle. The only two soldiers, whom they had left on guard, started in pursuit; shortly after, the friar followed them on horse, believing the robbers would respect his presence. When he arrived where they were he saw that one soldier was dead and that the other was in imminent peril. He besought his enemies to calm themselves and hear him, and did not cease to speak even when a rain of arrows fell upon him, striking him in every part of the body. Reason enough was there for the astonishment of the assassins, for the arrows, though many and well directed, made no impression—he held himself well on his horse and continued speaking. The Indians then aimed at his head and, with three or four shots, brought him to the ground. What think you was the cause of his apparent invulnerability? To find out, the barbarians, running up to examine the body, despoiled it of clothing and found an immense cilicio, an iron network supplied with iron points inside, which constantly tore the flesh of the penitent friar.

DIEGO ORDOÑEZ.

What do you admire in the great navigator, whose fortunate discovery two hemispheres are now preparing to celebrate? His wisdom? his valor? his boldness? While he possessed all these in heroic grade, it is surely not these which, in him, captivate us, but his faith, his marvelous faith, which sustained him erect and firm in the midst of innumerable obstacles, betrayed by treachery, mocked and harassed by adverse fortune, and he held it against machinations and dangers, until he planted it securely in the land of his dreams. Well, of this same faith, which caused the inspired mariner to triumph over enemies and obstacles and the mysterious dangers of the sea, there are also found examples in these, our regions, which ought not to be held unworthy of esteem because they are buried in the humble chronicles of a Province; for even thus, in solitude, a diamond gleams more brightly. When the immortal Genoese entered the service of Spain, there had just (1483) taken the Franciscan habit in Salamanca, a youth of such precocity that, at thirteen years, he had already graduated in philosophy. At sixteen, dedicated to the study of theology, he made such progress in this science and in Greek and Hebrew, that, with no little credit to his order, he occupied—through many years—the professorship in his convent, where, as is well known, Columbus found a more friendly reception than among the proud professors of the famous university. From Guatemala, whither the learned teacher went in 1539 to occupy himself with the instruction of the wild Indians, he passed to Mexico, called to serve as Consultor to the Holy Office. The snows of a hundred winters already whitened his head, but as the volcanoes which display a snowy crown to conceal the forge where are smithed their glowing thunderbolts, so the venerable centennarian priest. He scarcely tarried at the vice-regal court; like a flaming arrow he went to Michoacan, Zacatecas, and Durango, whose inhabitants enjoyed the last ministrations of the philosopher, theologian, humanist, and eminent preacher, whose name was Diego OrdoÑez, and who, at one hundred and seventeen years of age, seated in a chair because he could not stand, died in Sombrerete, preaching to the Indians—he who had been the pride of the convent at Salamanca and the venerated oracle of theologians and inquisitors.

ANTONIO DE ROA.

Two methods were employed by him, or rather one only, in converting so untamed and rude a people. No one is ignorant, that in New Spain the worship of the Holy Cross has ever been general. Be the mountain beautiful or barren, lofty or low, the natives were accustomed to rear a cross upon it. Where roads forked they set it up, and also in the streets and plazas, that they might venerate it at every step and bow before it. With greater reason, therefore, believed Father Roa, ought the sacred emblem to be multiplied upon the rugged mountain trails, which, at first glance, had so much discouraged him.

But, not consenting to erect it in spots, where, before, the Indians had adored their idols, he taught them to honor it with great love and unheard-of penances. When he went forth from his convent, he had them throw about his neck a halter, dragged by two Indians; thus, with quick step, downcast eyes, in tears, with ardent groaning, he went, meditating on the passion of the Redeemer, until he reached the spot where stood a cross. Scarcely knelt before it, the Indians, who accompanied him and knew his orders, buffeted him, spat upon him, and cruelly beat him. This was repeated as many times as there were crosses on the way—and there were many.

When it is stated that this practice was constant and but the beginning of each day, one begins to have an idea of the examples, which he set to the new followers of Christ. One is stupefied to read that, arrived at the village he preached and administered the sacraments, then waited until night to make a general flagellation, which, finished, he sallied from the church, naked from the waist up and barefoot, with a halter around his neck, in order to walk around the churchyard, which was strewn with glowing brands. One can hardly believe that his strength allowed him to preach, on returning into the church, a sermon upon the torments of hell and, further, that after all this he endured the torture of boiling water, which his rough followers threw over his lacerated body.

Still the idea of the sufferings, which he added to those, today, as then, inseparable from a region so wild and remote, is not complete until we know that, in Lent, he was accustomed, thrice weekly, to bathe the Hermita of Molango with his blood. In his oratory he had painted the Prayer in the Garden; and there, after his long prayers, the Indians came to beat him, while they overwhelmed him with insults. They stripped him from the waist up and violently tore away the coarse and rasping cloth which was bound closely to his flesh; they threw a halter about his neck and, in this guise, dragged him to a second oratory where was painted a Magdalene anointing the Lord’s feet. Placing him there before an Indian who, seated in his tribunal, represented Divine Justice, they accused him of being a wicked man, an ingrate, proud, perverter, and false. He replied nothing on the matter to the questions of the judge, but, after a little time, confessed his sins, ingratitude, and faults, in a loud voice. He replied as little to a new accusation, made against him with false witnesses, of the truth of which the judge declared himself convinced, and ordered that they should beat him naked, which they did, thoroughly, until the blood ran down upon the ground from his raw and quivering body. Afterward they kindled splinters of fat pine, with the sizzling resin of which they scorched him from the shoulders to the soles of his feet, and lastly they laid upon him a heavy cross, which he bore in a procession around the enclosure over a bed of glowing coals.