Explore Local History: Hispanic Influences

Don Juan de Oñate, ordered by King Felipe II of Spain to spread Catholicism through the province of Santa Fé de Nuevo México, had Jewish roots, according to author and genealogical researcher José Antonio Esquibel.

Oñate's ancestors on his mother's side included a rabbi who converted to Christianity in 1390 along with his siblings.

A sadness lingers over the Spanish soul, a long memory that transcends generations and recalls that with each of its ancestors' victories, part of its own kin was the victim. Andalusians today will tell you the story of la Hermosa Hembre (the female beauty). By 1480, Marranos,* or "New Christian" Jews, those who had acceded to conversion at the end of the fourteenth century in order to remain in Spain, their ancestral home for many generations, had ascended again to the highest orders of Spanish society.

For a moment, let your imagination slip away into a tavern in Santa Fe, late on a Friday night. Take a sip of deep red wine, and hear the driving rhythms of flamenco guitar being played. Focus on its sound. It is compelling. It is familiar, yet speaks of something distant and foreign. You may begin to hear echoes of a sound that isn't quite European. You note hints of an exotic scale, and you notice dissonances that seem to tug at your attention to tell their story.

The flavors of anise and honey were the first I knew as sweet. To a child raised proudly as an 18th-generation Santa Fean, these were the flavors of a special treat. The bizcochito, Santa Fe's favorite Christmas cookie, is flavored with wine and cinnamon, but its strongest essence is of anise. Honey, of course, flows generously over warm flat bread or fried bread, as it does for children throughout the Mediterranean world. It was quite a while before I came to realize that these were not the favorite sweets of other children closer to home. Now I see a clue to the identity of northern New Mexicans poured out in their kitchens, and in so many other details of their daily lives.

When Don Pedro de Peralta was ordered in 1609 by the viceroy of Spain to establish Nuevo Mexico’s first capital, it would have made sense to lay the new town out on the south side of the Santa Fe River.

After all, it was higher ground, less marshy and easier to build on. And settlers wouldn’t have to ford the river to get to government offices.

Unfortunately for Peralta’s official efforts, there was already a settlement on the south side of the river, so the designated founder was obliged to move to the north side.

At least, that’s the fairly informed opinion of Cal Riley, a retired archaeologist and ethno-historian now living in Las Vegas,...