The work of paleography is hard. Primary historical documents are often difficult to read; translation involves capturing the spirit of another person’s views. When done right, however, both documentary editing and translation can be valuable literary tools, for they provide a window into the lives and minds of historical figures.
Effective translation distinguishes the efforts of Miguel Encinias, Alfred Rodríguez, and Joseph P. Sánchez in their edition of Gaspar Pérez de Villagrá’s Historia de la Nueva México, 1610. This version of the epic tale, which relates the founding of the New Mexico colony by Juan de Oñate in the 1590s, is actually a careful editing of an earlier translation by Fayette S. Curtis, Jr. Curtis carried out his work on the Historia in the 1920s, when he came to New Mexico as an educator.
The present edition of Pérez de Villagrá’s poem is complemented by extensive notes giving historical background on characters and modern versions of obscure or antiquated words and phrases. Added to this is an overview of Villagrá’s life, placing the author and his epic in a historical framework; and a literary critique, which argues that the Historia’s true value is as a work of history rather than of fiction.
In true epic style, Villagrá fills his poem with references to valiant Spanish heroes and faithful servants, who conquered New Mexico and its native Pueblo Indians in the name of their God and crown. His glorified tale stresses the Spaniards’ courage in light of the hardships they experienced on the trail and the constant threat of Indian attacks. Such a romanticized account would be typical of a man like Villagrá. Like many Europeans of his time, he believed that the conquest of Native Americans was justified because it brought cultural and religious superiority to a people who were considered barbaric.
This Eurocentric attitude is perhaps best expressed in the passage dealing with the battle of Acoma. In this struggle, the Acoma Indians lured Oñate’s nephew, Juan de Zaldívar, to the top of their mesa and killed him. In response, Oñate ordered a full-scale assault on the pueblo. In the aftermath of the massacre, the governor issued extreme sentences for captured Acomas and their allies: some were executed, others had a foot cut off or were sentenced to servitude. Some Spanish settlers argued that Oñate dealt too harshly with the Acomas. The governor, however, concluded that his decision would serve as a warning to other Indians who might wish to challenge superior Spanish arms.
Donald Cutter’s Defenses of Northern New Spain is another example of good translation. Cutter also displays skill at documentary editing: he includes a Spanish facsimile of O’Conor’s report so that paleographers can examine and compare it with his English version. Cutter’s edition of the report is complemented by a biographical sketch of O’Conor, a Dublin-born mercenary whose distaste for British control over his native Ireland led him to serve Spain in both Europe and America. The editor also includes several appendixes that tally the military forces employed in the defense of the remote region. Finally, Cutter does an excellent job of using his notes to convey the historiography of New Spain’s far northern frontier. In doing so, he expands on O’Conor’s views regarding his role as commandant inspector, Indian-Spanish relations, the hostile nature of the region, and the successes and failures of New Spain’s defense policy there.
As a primary source, O’Conor’s report depicts the frontier as a different geopolitical and social landscape than does Villagrá’s Historia. Whereas Villagrá expresses a sense of hope and good fortune for the infant colony, O’Conor offers a dismal account of the northern provinces. Indian hostilities threaten Spain’s hold on the north, he declares, and only through the efforts of seasoned veterans like him can the territory be preserved. O’Conor’s self-aggrandizement in this regard is typical of the times. By focusing on their accomplishments in such hostile environments, men like O’Conor and Villagrá hoped to secure favorable positions if they were reassigned to other posts. In O’Conor’s case, his report was directed at his replacement as military head of New Spain’s northern provinces, Teodoro de Croix. O’Conor does express discontent with de Croix, whom he considered inexperienced for frontier service. His displeasure, however, may have resulted more from his belief that de Croix did not justly recognize O’Conor’s military service in the north.
Besides describing the conditions on the northern frontier, the report also includes O’Conor’s suggestions for reinforcing and coordinating New Spain’s defensive machine. His recommendations were in line with the reform plan set forth by the Marqués de Rubi after the latter’s inspection tour of the north between 1765 and 1768. In essence, the plan called for the consolidation of New Spain’s northern presidial line along the 30th parallel. In one last burst of bravado, O’Conor praises his military reform efforts and his deeds in general: “In all actions that I had with the barbarians I fortunately came out victorious, reestablishing the honor of the King’s arms, which was in decay when I took command of those provinces” (p. 65).
Although Villagrá and O’Conor offer different descriptions of New Spain’s northern frontier, it is from these opposing views that their works’ importance as primary historical documents becomes apparent. From a comparative perspective, one may argue that these sources serve as expressive bookends: they deal with the opening and the close of the region’s colonial era. While Villagrá’s account focuses on the period of contact between Spain and the Americans of today’s Southwest, O’Conor’s report describes the conditions of a mature northern frontier region in the 1770s. As a first chapter in the history of the Spanish borderlands, Villagrá’s poem certainly reads like an adventure story. As one of the last chapters of the region’s Spanish period, however, O’Conor’s report proves that not all adventure stories have a happy ending.
