Artigo Revisado por pares

The 1539 Inquisition and Trial of Don Carlos of Texcoco in Early Mexico

2008; Duke University Press; Volume: 88; Issue: 4 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1215/00182168-2008-001

ISSN

1527-1900

Autores

Patricia Lopes Don,

Tópico(s)

Historical Studies in Latin America

Resumo

The inquisition, trial, and burning of the indigenous leader Don Carlos Ometochtli Chichimecateuctli of Texcoco is a well-known event of early sixteenth-century Mexican history, referenced dozens of times in Latin American historiography. Nevertheless, the last historian to write an explanation of the events that led to Don Carlos’s death was Richard Greenleaf in his 1962 publication Zumárraga and the Mexican Inquisition, 1536 – 1543.1 The Don Carlos case was the climax of a series of 16 inquisitional trials conducted by the first bishop of Mexico, Juan de Zumárraga, involving 24 indigenous men and 3 women, most of whom were leaders in their respective communities. Don Carlos was the son and grandson of legendary pre-Hispanic leaders of Texcoco, a major colonial city and one of the three partners in the preconquest Aztec Alliance. Though he was also accused of bigamy and idolatry, Don Carlos received his death sentence for the crime of heretical dogmatism and was the only indigenous leader to pay with his life at the stake in Zumárraga’s Inquisition.Since Greenleaf’s interpretation of the Don Carlos story, historians have opened up the field of the ethnohistory of the indigenous peoples of the Americas with a wealth of new interpretative strategies, a new body of research in native documents, and a full range of explanations about the agency of indigenous people in the colonial period.2 Therefore, the questions that I raise in this narrative are a little different than Greenleaf’s were 40 years ago. My predecessor was interested in demonstrating that Don Carlos was guilty of the heretical dogmatism of which he was accused. I disagree with his evaluation and deal with that question near the end of this essay. However, I am less concerned with questions of Spanish intentions, which resulted in the guilty verdict in Don Carlos’s trial, than I am with questions of indigenous agency. First, what precisely motivated Don Carlos to take actions that led to the accusations against him, and how were they related to his role as leader of Texcoco? Second, what were the patterns of actions of others in the indigenous community leading up to and during the initial inquisitorial phase of his case? Finally, how was the agency of Don Carlos and others constructed in the early colonial period as Franciscan missionary goals, backed up with Spanish power, forced various indigenous leaders to make decisions?In this paper, I return to the Don Carlos case with a closer reading of the trial transcript, using microhistorical methodology to explore the agency of Don Carlos and other indigenous leaders in his trial. While microhistory, the construction of the personal narratives of obscure historical actors out of mostly legal or religious documentation, is a fairly common method of analysis in European Inquisition history, it has more often found its way into Mexican studies by the route of gender histories.3 Fortunately, at 70 pages, Don Carlos’s trial transcript provides enough information, along with other sources, to complete a microhistorical treatment.4 The main source for this story, the trial transcript, was made available nearly a century ago when the Mexican government arranged for its national archives to transcribe and publish this and other Inquisition transcripts to celebrate the one hundredth anniversary of Mexican independence from Spain.5 Two fairly recently investigated colonial sources, pertaining directly to the case and written very contemporaneously to the event, corroborate facts in the Inquisition transcript: Susan Schroeder and Arthur J. O. Anderson have brought out a new edition of the Codex Chimalpahin, which contains new information from Don Carlos’s family members dealing directly with questions of how and when he came to power. Howard Cline studied the second source, the Oztoticpac Map, between 1966 and 1972; it contains detailed evidence of the line of succession of Texcocan colonial leaders.6 In fact, because of the trial and these sources, Don Carlos is among the better-known members of the native elite of the 1530s.The single case I examine here responds to a broader question about the patterns of early native colonial leadership. How did indigenous leaders and communities shape their conduct to better fit the coercive frame in which they were compelled to live, without necessarily internalizing European values? To address this question, I investigate the process of the indigenous leaders’ decision making — as much the protagonist of this story as Don Carlos — and this allows me, as William Taylor says, to reach “beyond the idea of freestanding, autonomous subjects in colonial histories to how and why they acted as colonial subjects.”7 The goal is to reconstruct the individual stories in Don Carlos’s trial in order to understand the various ways that indigenous leaders learned how to become colonial subjects on their own terms.Don Carlos’s formal denial of all the charges against him was contained in a document his attorney presented to the court in the month of August, 30 days after he had been interrogated and Zumárraga had completed the actual inquisition or inquiry. The denials contained in the document included one particularly interesting assertion that opens up the whole question of who Don Carlos was and how he became vulnerable to charges of heresy. Don Carlos protested that he had been accused “because he is the señor [leader] of the village, which he is legitimately and by the wish of his brother, and he had to punish people and they accused him for this reason.”8 Elsewhere in the transcript, Don Carlos’s half-sister María seemed to corroborate his claim when she angrily testified that their deceased brother and former leader, Don Pedro, had to “manage things for Don Carlos a lot because he wanted him as leader after his days.” Don Carlos, she said, “had always tried to take the señoridad by force and be señor of Texcoco.”9These separate statements reveal two things about the situation in Texcoco at the time of Don Carlos’s arrest. First, there was considerable animosity in Texcoco toward Don Carlos and a good deal of anxiety about the legitimacy of his rule. Second, Don Carlos did not know after the official inquiry (and may have even gone to the stake four months later without knowing) who his real accusers were and how precisely he came to be charged with heretical dogmatism. Obviously, he thought Texcocans had betrayed him, but we know very certainly from the trial transcript that his accusers came from Chiconautla, a village some ten kilometers from Texcoco. Inquisition testimony, however, was taken secretly, and the accused was never presented with the evidence or his accusers. Zumárraga had been careful in his questioning of Don Carlos not to reveal the identity of Don Carlos’s actual accuser — an indigenous Christian neophyte from Chiconautla named Francisco. The real questions here are why Don Carlos and others in Texcoco perceived that he lacked legitimacy, and how these perceptions were related to the accusations against Don Carlos, which were made in Chiconautla. Actually, there was little evidence of a native conspiracy. The problems with Don Carlos’s inheritance did not lead directly to his denunciation, though the climate of dispute and the air of illegitimacy that attended his pending succession seemed to affect Don Carlos personally, and this led indirectly, I will argue, to his denunciation. The disputes over his succession, however, did not begin in 1539. Disputed succession in Texcoco preceded the conquest, became exaggerated in the difficult colonial period, and built toward the events of Don Carlos’s ascension to the throne of Texcoco in 1539.Texcoco was the most powerful city-state of the Acolhua tribal group that settled in the Valley of Mexico on the east side of Lake Texcoco in the thirteenth century. In 1427, the leader of the Texcocans, Nezahualcoyotl, formed the Aztec Alliance with the Mexica of Tenochtitlán, the city-state founded on an island in the middle of the Valley of Mexico lake system, and the Tepaneca, whose main city was Tlacopán, to the northwest. The succession pattern of most valley monarchies employed modified forms of brother inheritance.10 The new alliance, however, complicated leadership and the rules of succession. All three monarchs of the alliance had numerous wives and concubines, but they also sorted marriages by the principle of hypogamy; the wife’s status determined the status of the progeny and politically tied the elite families of the valley together in a complex hierarchical network.11 In the new alliance environment, the children of high-status marriages, especially with the Mexica, seemed to have the advantage over the king’s brothers in succession. Consequently, Nezahual coyotl, himself the son of a Mexica marriage alliance, named as his heir his young son Nezahualpilli, also the son of a Mexica princess. There were some objections, but father-to-son inheritance in Texcoco survived and continued.12Nezahualpilli ruled from 1471 to 1515. Historians have suggested that, throughout his reign, the Aztec Alliance was drifting steadily toward complete Mexica dominance. In the sixteenth century, Motecuhzoma II, the Mexica king, increasingly ignored treaties with Texcoco, kept a good number of Nezahualpilli’s sons under his control in his palace in Tenochtitlán, and even suggested that the Aztec Alliance was over.13 In his last years, Nezahualpilli retreated from public life and declined to proclaim a successor from among his 40 surviving sons.14 Upon his death in 1515, however, two groups of sons had the upper hand under the father-to-son inheritance of the alliance. They were the sons of sisters of Motecuhzoma II; an unnamed wife had borne Cacama, while another Mexica princess, Tenancaxhautzin, had a multitude of children, including 11 sons.15 All were potential legitimate heirs, but Nezahualpilli made no choice.Exercising Mexica dominance, Motecuhzoma II unilaterally chose his favorite nephew Cacama as the new king. Several of Cacama’s half-brothers of the Mexica line immediately accepted the decision. One of the middle brothers, Ixtlilxochitl, however, refused, and between 1515 and the eve of the Spanish conquest in 1519 he took most of the northern tributary lands of Texcoco away from Cacama. Eventually, Cacama negotiated a truce with the rebellious Ixtlilxochitl, which allowed Cacama to remain the official king and live in Tenochtitlán, while Ixtlilxochitl ruled the northern tributary lands he already held. Cacama’s loyal half-brother Cohuanacoch was appointed governor of the southern territories and governed them on the new king’s behalf.16When Cortés made his assault on Tenochtitlán in 1520, Cacama sided with the Mexica and made war against the Spanish conqueror.17 In solidarity with Cacama, Cohuanacoch and three of his full-blood brothers led an army in alliance with the Mexica against Cortés in the final stand in Tenochtitlán.18 The wily Ixtlilxochitl, however, threw in his lot with Cortés, in effect declaring war against his brothers.19 Cacama died while in the hands of the conquerors in Tenochtitlán, but many of the remaining rebelling and nonrebelling brothers survived. The victorious Cortés now tried to play the role that Motecuhzoma II had attempted six years before — to impose a ruler on the Texcocans. At this moment, however, the relative youth of the royal family and the deaths of many royal males by war and plague forced Cortés to choose from among brothers, inadvertently returning succession back to brother inheritance. For four years Cortés selected different brothers from inside and outside the Mexica line, studiously avoiding his ally Ixtlilxochitl for reasons he never articulated. After Cortés executed one of the Mexica brothers, Cohuanacoch, he finally appointed Ixtlilxochitl as lord of Texcoco and baptized him “Don Fernando” after the Spanish king.20 Don Fernando Ixtlilxochitl responded by enforcing a strict campaign of baptism, church-sanctioned marriages, and church building in Texcoco, making it one of the bastions of the Catholic Church in the late 1520s.21Don Fernando Ixtlilxochitl’s reign, while stable, was also short lived. In addition, the Franciscan friars complicated inheritance principles during his reign by introducing the European concept of “legitimacy” in church-sanctioned marriage to the Texcocan community. In 1526 the friars compelled members of the Texcocan royal family to marry in a large ceremony. They followed in the early 1530s with a series of campaigns designed to eradicate consanguinity and bigamy and put a great deal of pressure on the indigenous nobles to both follow and enforce the European taboos.22 After this, only sons of church marriages were considered legitimate heirs. Unlike his predecessors, Don Fernando had the independence, in the absence of Cortés and Mexica dominance, to exercise the selection of his heir; however, he had only daughters by his chosen wife and could not follow the principle of father-son inheritance. Therefore, he was forced to choose a successor either from among his very young nephews or from among his older and more experienced full-blood brothers of the old Mexica line.23Ixtlilxochitl chose the latter, an uneasy proposition since his elder brothers, Don Pedro Tetlahuahuequititzin and Don Juan Quauhtliztactzin, and his younger brother, Don Jorge Yoyotzin, had been among those who had allied with the Mexica against him and Cortés in 1520. Apparently, Don Fernando also passed over the eldest surviving brother, Don Pedro, preferring the younger brothers, Don Juan and Don Jorge, for the crown. Don Juan died before the transfer could be made; thus, Don Jorge Yoyotzin became the Texcocan monarch upon Don Fernando’s death in 1532.24 In a few years Don Jorge, in turn, died without an appropriate male heir. Therefore, the embittered Don Pedro Tetlahuahuequititzin, the last of the preferred Mexica line among the sons of Nezahualpilli, who had been overlooked by his father, his Mexica uncles, Cortés, and even his own full-blood brothers, finally came to rule Texcoco in the year 1535.25Since the rise of Nezahualcoyotl in 1427, the same branch of the royal family, related to the Mexica, had ruled for a total of 108 years with only one slight break in 1521. Don Pedro, however, had no sons by his church-sanctioned marriage and no full-blood brothers. Again, he could either select one of his Mexica nephews — Don Fernando Pimentel Velásquez, the son of his brother Cohuanacoch, or Juan de San Antonio, the son of his brother Don Juan Quauhtliztactzin — or break the long-ruling Mexica line by providing a non-Mexica half-brother with the crown. Don Pedro chose to go outside the Mexica line and invest rule in his half-brother Don Carlos Ometochtli (his calendrical name) Chichimecateuctli (his honorific name, meaning Chichimec lord), which set the succession onto a new contentious path.26Don Carlos Ometochtli appeared to be born around 1505, just a little later than the string of Mexica half-brothers.27 Unlike the half brothers’ prestigious mother, however, Don Carlos’s mother was a concubine to Nezahualpilli. His maternal great-grandfather, Huehuexoxtl, was a minor chief from the Tepaneca tribe and his grandfather was unremarkable. This made Don Carlos a calpanpilli, a house son, and placed him below esteemed sons, tlazopilli, who had more prominent maternal bloodlines, including the Mexica half-brothers who had preceded him in the succession.28 The trial transcript, our best contemporaneous evidence, makes clear that he was called Ometochtli by his brothers and sisters and that Chichimecateuctli, the name which all tlahtoqueh (leaders) of Texcoco took, was something he and Don Pedro emphasized, probably to boost his prestige in Texcoco.Don Carlos was probably 14 to 16 years old at the time of the conquest, an age when he was required to learn arms, but we do not know if he actually used them on one side or the other of the conquest wars.29 After the conquest he lived in Cortés’s house in Coyoacán, where Cortés kept many sons of the royal houses of the Valley of Mexico under a kind of forced Hispanicization program. The young noble seemed to learn a great deal about Spanish ways. At his Inquisition trial, he said he had been baptized “about 15 years before [by] Fray Juan, who is now dead,” meaning about 1524 – 25.30 By 1528, he seemed to be back in Texcoco, because he had fathered a son out of wedlock there, a minor indiscretion.31 The preface by Luís González Obregón to the 1910 publication of Don Carlos’s trial transcript states that Don Carlos was schooled in the Colegio de Santa Cruz de Tlatelolco, a school for the teaching and proselytizing of noble sons away from their families. Although historians have repeated this error, this was unlikely, given that Don Carlos was already nearing 30 when a colegio in Tlatelolco was initially opened, and that the Franciscans preferred to recruit 10-to 12-year-olds for instruction at the colegios because of the children’s obvious intellectual malleability. Nevertheless, Don Carlos seemed to be aware of the activities of the school and what the Franciscans were doing there.32In fact, Don Carlos interacted with the Franciscan friars and Spaniards in Texcoco very readily. Texcocans testified that, in 1531, Don Carlos had asked his half-brother Don Fernando Ixtlilxochitl for the use of the Oztoticpac Palace at the behest of a Franciscan brother who lived in Texcoco at the time.33 The friar apparently regarded Don Carlos as a confidante and wanted the use of the property for religious purposes. On the other hand, the young Don Carlos was just as likely to have been focused on getting the property and used the friar’s request as a clever strategy to sway his half-brother or perhaps even intimidate him. By 1536, Don Carlos was doing business with a Spaniard, Pedro de Vergara, in an important enterprise to plant European fruit trees on one of Don Carlos’s properties, the two of them splitting the profits.34 In short, Don Carlos was at the time behaving in a matter that was very probably typical of a good number of nobles. He engaged the Spanish and Franciscan world when he could gain some economic or political benefit; however, most of the time he intentionally or as a matter of course distanced himself from the friars and their circle of neophytes.Don Pedro seemed to prefer his half-brother as his heir rather than his brothers’ sons, for two reasons. First, there was a problem of age with regard to the nephews. By 1539, the nephews were probably still in their teens, which meant that they were not ready for marriage and not ready for rule, as Texcocans regarded bachelors as unsuitable for office.35 Secondly, Don Pedro did not seem to trust his nephews. According to one of the nephews, Juan de San Antonio (in a source made available in the recent publication of Codex Chimalpahin), members of Texcoco’s elder council told him that Don Pedro was angry at him and had complained of his ambitions: “It is said, because my nephew is male, when I die he will come in here and take the little house I have arranged for myself and the little walled enclosure.”36Since there was bound to be unhappiness over Don Pedro’s choice of Don Carlos, Don Pedro indeed “managed” many things during his four years of rule in such a way as to improve Don Carlos’s wealth, his stature, and his prestige in the town, at the expense primarily of the nephews. Again, San Antonio recalled what Don Pedro said to a meeting of nobles prior to his death: “Perhaps you noblemen feel uneasy . . . for I say that my younger brother Don Carlos Ometochtzin Chichimecatecutlzintl is poor. Therefore, I give him, I assign him, the cultivated property of Yahualiuhcan that my nephew Juan de San Antonio is working; do what you hear, my younger brother.”37 As heir apparent, Don Carlos also needed a residence. Don Pedro confirmed the Oztoticpac Palace as Don Carlos’s to use, an important signal of Don Carlos’s new prestige, because the palace was the largest and most luxurious residence in colonial Texcoco. It may have been that many family members felt that they had been left aside, as Juan de San Antonio clearly did when he complained, “We knew Nezahualpiltzinli loved his elder brothers and sisters, because he guarded their property for them; he was the representative of their father.”38 The implication was that Don Pedro did not protect the material interests of his extended family.Two elements were probably contributing to San Antonio’s lamentations and the concerns of other relatives. First, recent historical scholarship has focused on the financial arrangements of tribute that created a base of power in the so-called empires that made up the Aztec Alliance. Cities, such as Texcoco and Tenochtitlán, were not territorial empires as much as they were tribute empires. When Cortés defeated the Mexica, he completely undercut the tribute network and probably did so even before the completion of the conquest, which explains the rapid spiral of decline in the “empire.”39 Having lost the tribute empires to the Spanish, it was probably impossible for royal heads of household in the 1530s to support the large extended families of old alliance leaders like Nezahualpilli in the generous manner that he had when vast amounts of tribute and war booty were available. There was just enough wealth to keep only the highest members of indigenous royalty in a style to which they were accustomed.Decisions about colonial inheritance, therefore, not only determined the right to rule, they determined who among the royal family would become economic winners. This explains why Don Pedro was anxious to endow Don Carlos with a lion’s share of the royal wealth. But his inability to provide a wider circle of economic support and protection as in pre-Hispanic times left the supreme leader highly vulnerable to intrigue, as Juan de San Antonio’s complaints made clear. In the first two decades after the conquest, an intense dynamic in the larger noble households was this scramble to endow one section of the royal family with the city wealth and create a dynasty. Don Carlos’s unpopularity, therefore, was fueled by the sense that he was about to deprive large sections of the extended family of their livelihoods and the future well-being of their immediate families.40The second element was the sense of illegitimacy in Don Carlos’s lack of Mexica connections. The power of the Mexica was long gone, but the Mexica heirs clung tenaciously to their pre-Cortesian privileges by manipulating the family tradition. In a rhetorical environment somewhat controlled by the Mexica line of the royal family, Don Carlos’s “señoridad” was perceived as having been taken by force, or as tyrannous. The deceased Don Pedro’s methods, and by association Don Carlos’s ascension to the throne, however, challenged not only the honor of the Mexica line but also the non-Mexica, who felt just as entitled as Don Carlos to the shrinking privileges and land. Each constituency used the emblem of family honor and legitimacy to build itself up and tear down a competitor.The tension over succession created an environment in mid-1530s Texcoco where discourses of leadership, masculinity, and authenticity flourished. Don Carlos began to change from an opportunistic and distant observer to a hostile agitator against the Franciscans in the late 1530s. Partly, he may have become exasperated with the opposition to his pending succession. For the second cause, however, we must “look for the woman.” In the early 1530s, when Don Carlos was approaching 30, the age of mature reflection, marriage, and leadership responsibilities, he became enamored with his niece Inés, the daughter of his full-blood sister Xoxul; he had two daughters by Inés, one of whom survived.41 There was no prohibition on consanguinity in unions in pre-Hispanic Texcoco; however, the tlahtoani (speaker or leader; pl. tlahtoqueh) always had the power to overrule or approve the marriages within the royal family. At trial Don Carlos claimed that his brothers were quite angry about the affair and that Don Pedro had compelled him to marry another woman, Doña María, in a church ceremony in 1535. Little is known about Doña María, except that she was suitable by church standards, a very distant relative, and acceptable by Texcocan standards, as she was from a noble family in Huexotla, a subject town.42In most respects the decision to force Don Carlos into this marriage is indicative of a pattern of emerging leadership that was common among early colonial nobles. Don Pedro was an older noble and there was nothing in his actions or previous life that indicated that he was sympathetic with the moral restrictions of the Christian Church. Nevertheless, the colonial Texcocan tlahtoqueh generally oversaw family matters in such a way as not to invite Spanish and Franciscan interference in Texcoco’s affairs. According to Louise M. Burkhart, “moral temptation was not an indigenous concept. . . . To be moral is only to behave within common sense, to do what is obviously the desirable thing to do.”43 The sensible and desirable thing for nobles to do in the colonial indigenous communities was to avoid excessive desires and problems that might bring outside scrutiny to the community, as Don Pedro had recommended when he ended Don Carlos’s affair with Inés. In this environment, Don Carlos and other nobles could be labeled “bad,” not in the Christian moral sense but according to pre-Hispanic standards of the responsible and proper conduct of leaders. In the Florentine Codex, a bad leader was “impetuous . . . disrespectful of others . . . [and] acts without consideration,” as opposed to a good leader, who “unites [his people] . . . brings them together . . . [and] is discreet.”44Clearly, if Don Carlos was intended to be the next tlahtoani of Texcoco, his marriage and the legitimacy of his children would come to the attention of the Spanish authorities and could cause difficulties for the community if the friars judged them to be un-Christian.45 By compelling Don Carlos to establish a family with another woman, Don Pedro and the other Texcocan nobles were demonstrating discretion by deflecting Spanish attention from Texcoco and avoiding any event that would invite the colonial authority’s further interference in their towns and cities. Evidently discretion, the indigenous leadership value, was elevated above pre-Hispanic male prerogatives of consanguinity and bigamy because leaders perceived that their communities would rather judge the leaders by the former rather than the latter value. A Franciscan friar and close confidante of Zumárraga, Fray Andrés de Olmos, confirmed the indigenous pattern of discretion (which he regarded as “deceitfulness”) in a letter of January 1540 to his friend Bishop Zumárraga. “It seems to me that these people shower us with compliments, but, among the leaders, I have not known three who have come voluntarily to the faith.”46 Of course, some leaders were more astute, careful, and discreet than others; they learned to deflect the Spaniards and manage internal affairs so as to avoid Spanish interference, and they had the patience to endure the insults of the friars. But not all nobles could keep their own counsel well, and circumstances could turn them away from accommodation.47Initially, it seemed that Don Carlos was willing to exercise such patience and do what was required of him because it fit the seemingly successful pattern that his brothers had followed since Don Fernando’s reign in the late 1520s. But, as he neared his ascension, certain events suggested that his attitudes were changing. In testimony, his wife Doña María claimed that, though their marriage had no children, it was amiable for the first two years. Around 1537, however, the marriage deteriorated and Don Carlos “began to treat her badly.”48 Though we do not have sufficient testimony on this matter to pinpoint events and bad acts that happened in the next 18 months or more, testimony indicates that by February 1539, Don Carlos had moved his old mistress, his niece Inés, into his home and she was nursing him through a serious illness. According to Doña María and other witnesses, Don Carlos openly insulted his wife by allowing Inés to run his household and treat his wife like a servant. The mistress even told the wife “what she was supposed to do for Don Carlos and what she was supposed to make for dinner.”49 There were earlier indications, however, that Don Carlos was abandoning in his personal affairs the deflection and avoidance pattern of leadership that his half-brothers practiced. His illegitimate 11-year-old son, Antonio, revealed at trial that he had not been baptized at the usual age, between 6 and 10, because “his father did not wish it.”50 Witnesses also indicated that Don Carlos had not been to church for some time.51What did Don Carlos’s turning from his brothers’ wishes mean? Certainly, he was angry that he had been deprived of his personal and sexual liberties. Possibly, he was reconsidering the wisdom of his brothers’ efforts to adapt their leadership practices in order to deflect Spanish power and was inclined to a more open opposition to the Franciscans. Don Carlos’s rebellious turn, however, should be seen not only in terms of his individual predicament but also in a larger context. The leadership strategy of deflecting Spanish power from the native communities and accommodating the Franciscans posed greater problems in the 1530s, and the Franciscans chose to interfere even more.Spanish and indigenous cultures in the mid-1530s in Texcoco increasingly battled over sexual morality, marriage, and family. For the Franciscans, the euphoric early years after 1526, when they could marry and baptize Texcocans en masse with the support of Don F

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