Bear and Kiva

When Spanish colonizers and missionaries came to settle in New Mexico, the resulting cultural, religious, and class tensions between the Spaniards and their Pueblo neighbors would lead to a series of witchcraft trials overseen by the local branch of the Spanish Inquisition. This episode tells the story of colonization, resistance, and witchcraft in colonial New Mexico. 
 
Researched, written, and produced by Corinne Wieben, with the voice talent of Jack Krause and original music by Purple Planet.

Episode sources  

Chapters

• 0:00 Pre-roll
• 0:07 Intro
• 2:36 Pueblo & Spanish Witchcraft
• 9:56 The Pueblo Revolt
• 15:10 Pueblo Witchcraft Trials
• 22:22 Conclusion
• 25:26 Outro

Transcript

Pre-roll
You’re listening to Enchanted, a podcast on the history of magic, sorcery and witchcraft. I’m Corinne Wieben.

Intro
Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful girl who caught the eye of a young man known for his skill with sorcery. He approached her with a proposal of marriage, but she firmly declined, sensing something amiss about him. However, shortly after, the girl fell mysteriously ill and passed away within days. As tradition dictated, a funeral feast was prepared to honor her memory. But on the fourth day, a group of witches intervened, intent on taking her away to the sorcerer’s abode. The leader of the witches employed a strange method to revive her: rolling a wheel over her body. To everyone’s shock, she stirred back to life, but said, “Oh, I am so tired!” Intrigued by this spectacle, the onlookers said, “Hurry up, roll the wheel again!” He rolled the wheel again, but this time the girl transformed into a deer. Without hesitation, the men in attendance hunted her down, while the women prepared to cook the meat. Meanwhile, a curious little girl from a nearby house watched the events unfold. When the chief sensed her presence, he said, “Someone is looking at us.” But the little girl cleverly lay still and quiet, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she peeked once more. The next morning, the girl told her mother what she had witnessed. When a woman brought some of the meat into their house, the little girl’s mother threw it at her, accusing her of cannibalism and refusing to partake in the grisly feast.

This story comes from the Pueblo peoples of New Mexico, whose traditions long included the use of magic and religious ritual to undo the harms caused by witchcraft. When Spanish colonizers and missionaries came to settle in New Mexico, the resulting cultural, religious, and class tensions between the Spaniards and their Pueblo neighbors would lead to a series of trials for witchcraft overseen by the local branch of the Spanish Inquisition. In this episode, I bring you the story of colonization, resistance, and witchcraft in colonial New Mexico.

Pueblo & Spanish Witchcraft
Following the Spanish conquest of the Aztec Empire in the early sixteenth century, Spain proceeded to conquer and settle the territory of New Spain, composed of numerous settlements in Mexico, North America and Latin America. The New Laws, issued in 1542 by Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, prevented Spanish colonists from enslaving Indigenous peoples. The laws met with local resistance, however, and were enforced unevenly across New Spain. Regardless of their adherence to these laws, Spanish colonial leaders established strict racial and class hierarchies wherever they settled. According to this hierarchy, those of Spanish descent occupied the top tier, while Indigenous peoples were relegated to the bottom. This hierarchy combined constructs of race with both religion and class, conceptualizing Spaniards as wealthy and powerful and their Indigenous neighbors as poor and subservient.

On this issue of hierarchy, the Church, represented by the many Catholic missionaries dispatched to New Spain, agreed with the State. Under the New Laws, Spanish settlers had an obligation to convert Indigenous people to Catholic Christianity. The New Laws also essentially divided Spanish and Indigenous peoples into two separate republics. One Indigenous, rural, and pagan, often thought of by Spanish authorities as the “people without reason,” and the other Spanish, urban, and Christian, framed as the “people of reason.” While the New Laws and Spanish officials sought to keep these two “republics” separate, this was impossible in practice. Indigenous peoples provided essential labor and revenue for Spanish settlers and for the crown.

That said, it would be inaccurate to think about Pueblo communities in New Mexico as a monolithic whole. Pueblo communities and individuals often experienced friction with one another, and many people adopted hybrid identities formed by the blending of Spanish and indigenous customs. As Spanish beliefs and practices entered Pueblo communities, the attempt to keep Spanish influence out caused disagreements and discord. Whether they remained in their original homes or relocated, many Pueblos established a network of intercultural connections that intertwined Spanish and Pueblo societies. Even Pueblo leaders who upheld traditional beliefs often depended on Spanish legal systems to resolve conflicts within their own communities. Historical anthropologist Tracy Brown has argued that the strengthening of gender and class divisions under Spanish rule, prompted Pueblo women to seek empowerment through rituals outside their local communities and Pueblo men—both commoners and elites—to turn to sorcery and healing to bolster their influence in politics or to defy Spanish control.

The Pueblo belief in witchcraft existed long before Spanish colonists arrived in New Mexico. According to Pueblo tradition, witches are human rather than supernatural entities. They live alongside humans in the natural world. However, they must consume the lives of their victims to survive, meaning undetected witches pose a constant threat to those around them. For the Hopi, Zuni, and other Pueblo peoples, witches can be a human born with two hearts, one good and one evil. In a witch, the evil heart conquers or consumes the good heart, and possesses the witch. Strangers and outsiders are particularly suspect, and children, who are not yet initiated into full personhood, are especially vulnerable victims.

To counter this threat, clandestine medicine or curing societies developed in Pueblo communities to combat illness and the threat of witchcraft. Examples include the Bear societies of Santa Clara and the Bow priesthood of the Zuni, both of which served as defenders against witchcraft. Curing rituals often involved the priests or healers wearing costumes or disguises and enacting the symbolic driving off or slaying of witches. These rites were often held in kivas, underground ceremonial chambers. In Santa Clara, men would dress to resemble bears, while women dressed in black and carried long obsidian knives and spear points used to chase and cut up the witches. One observer of these rites reported:

The men growled like bears, clawed the air about the patient, pretended to grasp the witches; the women also imitated the growls of the bear, flourished the cutting edges and stabbed with the spear heads, to cut and rend the evil influences… they rushed up the ladder to the roof, screaming and shouting, and pretended to frighten the evils away. They descended into the plaza and sought out those impersonating the witches, struck them, and pretended to cut or destroy them… This was continued until all the evil ones were killed or driven off. The impersonators of the witches divested themselves of their rags and returned to the kiva… Then all of them, headed by the leader, rushed to Santa Clara Creek… When they reached the water, they all plunged in to wash off the disease and evil influences.

While these societies were intended to combat witchcraft with ritual and sorcery, Spanish authorities considered these ritual healing practices to fall under the umbrella of “witchcraft.” Since Spanish laws condemning witchcraft as criminal had existed long before this era, once authorities labeled these practices as witchcraft, they were consequently outlawed.

There are a few things that Pueblo and Spanish witchcraft beliefs held in common. Both considered witches to be an immediate danger to the community. However, some of the disconnect between these beliefs came from the longstanding condemnation of all practices considered “pagan” as witchcraft in the European tradition. Since witches in seventeenth-century Europe were often depicted wearing ritual masks or transforming themselves into animals, the Pueblo practice of wearing kachina masks and dressing to resemble animals must have disturbed Spanish observers. Similarly, the association between witches and the underworld in European tradition may have led Spanish officials to look on rites held in underground kivas as a form of witchcraft. What seemed to bother Spanish authorities most, however, was not that Pueblos practiced sorcery, which was viewed as a consequence of not yet being fully Christianized and something more to be pitied than punished, but that Spanish colonists were beginning to adopt these practices themselves.

The Pueblo Revolt
Indigenous resistance to Spanish control and influence was characteristic of the seventeenth century, and sorcery may have offered a path to resistance and a motivating force for many Pueblo communities. The Tepehuán Revolt in Mexico followed the arrival of Spanish colonists in the 1570s and the concerted efforts of Jesuit missionaries to convert the Indigenous Tepehuanes to Catholicism. In 1616, a Tepehuàn leader named Quautlatas emerged. He presented himself as a messianic figure, adopting a broken cross as his symbol, and began preaching that the spread of Christianity had angered the gods, who demanded the death or expulsion of all Spaniards, especially the Jesuit missionaries. According to one account, he promised that “If they did not do this they would receive a terrible punishment in the form of illnesses, plagues, and famine. But if they obeyed him, he promised them…victory over the Spaniards. Even if some of them should die in battle, he promised them that within seven days they would be resurrected… God would create storms at seas, sinking the Spanish ships and thus preventing additional Spaniards from reaching these lands.” His message resonated, and the Tepehuanes rose up and attacked. The revolt resulted in the deaths of hundreds of Spaniards, alongside their Indigenous allies and African slaves, prompting a vicious Spanish counterattack that ultimately suppressed the rebellion. One priest interpreted the rebellion as the influence of witchcraft from New Mexico, writing, “The fact was that an Indian, or better said, a demon in barbarous dress, from the regions of New Mexico, and on route to the city of Durango, exclaimed an oration in all the Pueblos and ranches of the Tepehuanes in which he arrived, so well reasoned in his language, and so effective in order to motivate such peaceful souls of the Natives who, upon hearing it, they burned with anger against the Spanish.”

In the 1670s, drought struck the region of New Mexico, resulting in a famine and increased Apache raids on Pueblo communities. The Franciscan missionary Alonso de Benavides wrote pleading letters to the Spanish government, writing, “the Spanish inhabitants and Indians alike eat hides and straps of carts.” In 1675, the Spanish governor arrested 47 Pueblo leaders, most likely members of curing societies, and accused them of sorcery. Four were convicted and sentenced to death by hanging. The others were publicly whipped and imprisoned. Pueblo leaders marched on Santa Fe and demanded the release of the prisoners. With his soldiers busy fighting the Apache, the governor was forced to acquiesce. One of those arrested and released was a leader named Popé.

Popé spent the next five years building support for a Pueblo revolt. His coalition included supporters from some two dozen communities across six different language group, spread over a nearly 400-mile radius. By 1680, Popé would lead one of the most successful Indigenous uprisings against European colonization in North America. After years of oppression, forced labor, cultural suppression, and religious persecution, the Pueblo people coordinated a series of attacks on Spanish settlements, resulting in the expulsion of the Spanish from the region for over a decade. In their accounts of the rebellion, Spanish authorities described Popé as an hechicero, meaning “witch” or “sorcerer.” This is perhaps because of his role as a healer or because the rebellion appears to have been inspired by a vision Popé received featuring three figures thought by some to represent a collection of Pueblo deities or heroic figures.

Successful as the rebellion was, Pueblo communities had never had a tradition of unity. The pueblos remained fragmented, existing largely independent of one another. Drought and famine continued, as did Apache and Navajo raids. Popé was unseated roughly one year after the revolt. While Pueblo communities continued to resist the return of Spanish rule, the Spanish returned in force in 1692 and negotiated a treaty with Pueblo leaders. The following decade saw a continuation of Pueblo resistance, met with violent suppression by Spanish authorities. As Spanish and Pueblo lives became more intertwined, both Spanish and Pueblo accusers leveraged charges of witchcraft to settle their differences.

Pueblo Witchcraft Trials
In 1704, a little over a decade after Spanish authorities regained control over New Mexico, a Spanish woman, Juana de Apodaca accused a Tesuque woman named Felipa de la Cruz of spreading a rumor that Apodaca and her daughter were witches. Apodaca sued to clear her name, claiming that these accusations deeply harmed her social standing, and demanded that de la Cruz be punished. According to the record of the inquest, de la Cruz had tried to cure a woman whom Apodaca allegedly bewitched. De la Cruz went as far as to inform the sick woman that Apodaca was the cause of her suffering and that each subsequent attempt to heal the woman resulted in Apodaca inflicting harm. This sparked a rivalry of sorts between Apodaca and de la Cruz in the world of sorcery. Unlike other instances where jealousy was at play, this conflict arose from their roles as competing sorcerers and healers, with de la Cruz essentially stealing Apodaca’s client. Apodaca was so angered by this that she reported de la Cruz to the Spanish authorities. However, Apodaca couldn’t fully explain her reasons for the accusation, fearing that implicating de la Cruz in witchcraft or client theft would implicate herself as well. Instead, she simply accused de la Cruz of calling her a witch. Apodaca’s efforts to conceal her ties to witchcraft seemed to protect her from scrutiny by Spanish authorities in 1704. However, her luck ran out in 1706 when she was interrogated by the Inquisition alongside numerous others in Santa Fe, including Spaniards and individuals of mixed descent. It’s worth noting that Apodaca vigorously denied any involvement in witchcraft and emphasized her unwavering commitment to the Catholic faith during the interrogation.

This was not the only witchcraft investigation in which Santa Fe found itself embroiled. In 1715 Antonia Luján, a Spaniard, leveled accusations against her neighbor, Francisca Caza, a San Juan Indian woman, claiming Caza had bewitched her and caused her illness three years prior. Luján had frequented Caza’s doorstep seeking remedies, but when she turned to her for help in overcoming her poverty, she suddenly fell ill. Luján hinted to investigators that she suspected her husband of having an affair with Caza, implying that jealousy motivated Caza’s alleged bewitchment. Caza had often assisted Luján with various matters in Santa Fe. According to Caza, Luján bemoaned her financial struggles, leading Caza to offer her a potion made from powdered shell in water, believed to invoke divine aid in acquiring wealth. Luján claimed she refused Caza’s offer. However, shortly after declining, Luján experienced severe pain, concluding she had been bewitched. In Caza’s account, Luján never refused the offer nor emphasized her religious convictions. Luján’s religious defense may have been a strategic move to distance herself from witchcraft accusations. Despite admitting to seeking Caza’s aid after falling ill, Luján, a Spanish Catholic of elite status, escaped prosecution, while Caza, as an indigenous woman, faced legal vulnerability. In her analysis of these cases, Tracy Brown has argued that witchcraft accusations brought to Spanish authorities by women in New Mexico were invariably leveraged by Spanish women against Pueblo women. These suits were usually brought to address social tensions stemming from either jealously or competition and often resulted in the court upholding the social and economic status of the Spanish over the Pueblo citizenry. 

Among men, Brown argues, witchcraft accusations resulted from political disputes, often within the Pueblo community. Unable to rid themselves of problematic elites, Pueblo men mobilized the Spanish state against unwanted leaders and political rivals. In 1713, Don Lorenzo Coimagea, a respected elder of Picuris Pueblo, leveled serious accusations against Jerónimo Dirucaca, the pueblo’s governor. Coimagea claimed that Dirucaca openly challenged the authority of the pueblo’s missionary, showing disbelief in the priest’s teachings and proudly admitting to living in concubinage without facing consequences from Spanish authorities. Furthermore, Dirucaca was accused of using witchcraft to cause harm or death. Coimagea argued that Dirucaca’s rule silenced the leaders of Picuris, suggesting that he held unchecked power and disregarded the opinions of the pueblo’s governing elite. According to the accusation, Dirucaca not only asserted his dominance over the pueblo but also claimed superiority over the governor of New Mexico, stating that only the king of Spain could match his authority. He openly flouted Spanish law and church doctrines, urging the Picuris people to abandon Christianity and engage in practices like idolatry, cohabitation, and witchcraft. The residents of Picuris Pueblo condemned Dirucaca’s immoral conduct and oppressive rule, accusing him of engaging in illicit relationships, using witchcraft to manipulate women, and even resorting to murder against those who opposed him. Despite previous attempts to remove him from power, Dirucaca retained his position. Unable to remove him through traditional means, the pueblo elders sought Spanish intervention to investigate and depose Dirucaca.

Other investigations reveal the uses of sorcery to defy Spanish rule. In 1725, Pedro Munpa, having been punished by the fiscal of the San Ildefonso mission for practicing witchcraft, allegedly sought revenge by bewitching the fiscal. In response, Munpa asserted his divine authority, likening himself to God, claiming control over the forces of nature, and confessing to bewitching or even killing many others. Similarly, in 1733, Melchor Trujillo, a Pueblo sorcerer from Isleta, reportedly bewitched the governor of the pueblo, the mission’s lead singer, and several other Spanish and Pueblo individuals, resulting in one death. Notably Trujillo’s targets included government and mission officials, those who held considerable political power in the pueblo.

Conclusion
In his essay, “Pueblo Baseball: A New Use for Old Witchcraft,” J. R. Fox describes a growing conflict between the teams of the Inter-Pueblo Baseball League and their fans in mid-20th century in Cochiti, New Mexico. Fox claims, in traditional games, Pueblo players went out of their way to avoid choosing teams based on kin or any other kind of formal groups. Instead, team members were chosen randomly, using categories like “married” and “unmarried” or a count-off. However, the arrival of baseball created two teams in Cochiti based on existing familial, social, and religious groups. The problem, however, is that these two groups shared an old and bitter rivalry, and almost immediately began accusing the other team of using illicit magic. As Fox tells it:

What happened was interesting. The first game was played and while all went reasonably well on the field there were fights on the sidelines and these between the mothers of the players. As the momentum of the game increased these ladies began to abuse each other, to brawl, and finally to do open battle… These women who would formerly have had little chance to attack other women they disliked without invoking the frightening subject of witchcraft, now have excuse and opportunity to do battle royal over the bodies of their sons and grandsons. The epithet cheater has become a virtual synonym for witch.

According to Fox, following a particularly tense game, fans of the winning team warned him that “There’s going to be a lot of accidents…” caused by the losing team and to “watch out for their magic.”

When two cultures come together, especially in a colonial context, there is often tension and conflict as well as exchange. Witchcraft investigations in eighteenth-century New Mexico were no doubt born from both Pueblo and Spanish belief in witches, but also from the tensions between Spanish and Pueblo residents and within Pueblo communities themselves under Spanish rule. No doubt Spanish authorities viewed sorcery as a spiritual danger to both Spaniards and Pueblos alike and, following the 1680 Pueblo Revolt, a potential political danger as well, and if Fox is right, these tensions, rivalries, and supicions persisted well into the present. If Pueblo history reveals nothing else, its that, when all else fails, magic is power.

Outro
If you enjoyed this episode, you can subscribe to Enchanted wherever you listen. This episode was produced by me with the voice talents of Jack Krause and original music by Purple Planet. You can find them at purple dash planet dot com. If you want to learn more about witchcraft in Pueblo history, be sure to check out the sources link in the show notes, especially Tracy Brown’s Pueblo Indians and Spanish Colonial Authority in Eighteenth-Century New Mexico. Special thanks to Enchanted’s Patreon patrons for supporting the production of this and every episode. If you want to support Enchanted, please visit patreon dot com slash enchantedpodcast. If you’re looking for a way to support the show that won’t cost you anything, you can always give Enchanted: The History of Magic & Witchcraft a five-star rating on Apple Podcasts, Podchaser, Audible, or wherever you listen and recommend it to your friends. You can get in touch with me via email at enchantedpodcast at gmail dot com or follow on Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr at enchantedpodcast. As always, for more information and special features, visit enchantedpodcast dot net. I’m Corinne Wieben. Thank you for listening and stay enchanted.