HISTORY OF SAN MIGUEL: Madness on the streets

Part I

On the surface, the annual Locos Parade of San Miguel de Allende seems nothing more than people dressing up in outrageous costumes and parading along the streets of the city. Sort of a unique take of Marti Gras. But this parade/procession has a long and fascinating history, going back to the 1700s, and it has connections to Spain, the Catholic Church, and a number of saints. To understand it all we need to go back to the beginnings of San Miguel de Allende.

The original spot where the city had its start was a mission  some 4 miles west, in an area now called San Miguel Viejo—Old San Miguel. It was here that in 1492, a friar named Juan de San Miguel arrived, and founded a mission which he named in honor of his patron saint St. Michael. He converted some of the natives to Catholicism, had them build a small chapel, an atrium, and walls to enclose it all. The natives built their huts around this and thus began the community which became known as San Miguel.

The land was fertile, the waters from the River Laja were abundant, and the mission began on a good note with cultivation of crops, and animal husbandry. But there was a problem. There were indigenous tribes—the Chichimecas—who began attacking the settlement.

The Chichimecas were an ancient people composed of various indigenous groups whose lifestyles varied between nomadic and semi-nomadic. Some were hunters and gatherers, others were fishermen; still others had permanent settlements with domesticated animals and agriculture. They were distributed in central Mexico, including the Bajio and their territories became known as la Gran Chichimeca. These various groups had one thing in common—a hatred for the invaders from Spain, and a fierce dedication to get rid of them. They fought relentlessly against the Spanish invaders, becoming known as great and invincible warriors, masters in the art of archery.

A contemporaneous writer related that he saw an orange thrown into the air, and when all the Chichimeca warriors shot their arrows, the orange fell in pieces to the ground. Their ferocity is narrated in another tale about one of their warriors confronting four Spanish soldiers in armor. One of the soldiers pierced him with a lance and in spite of that, the warrior fought the others and was able to take away the lances of the other three. During all the years the Chichimeca fought against the Spanish conquistadors they were never defeated. The Spanish called them barbarians and depicted them as savage and bellicose, when in reality they were simply defending their territory from foreign invaders. One thing is certain, they terrified the settlers.

The Chichimeca attacks on the mission became more and more aggressive with not only material damage but also loss of lives. The friars decided to move to higher ground to the area we know as El Chorro. There was plentiful water from the natural spring—el chorro, and the hilly topography allowed better protection, and preparation for attacks. But it was not until 1555 when King Philip of Spain declared this a “villa de españoles,” a Spanish town, and the settlement was moved to the present location, becoming San Miguel el Grande; with a military outpost and protection. The rules about the layout of the town dictated building a church, and San Rafael became the interim parish church until the Parroquia (not in its present state yet) was constructed.

The city prospered, because of its strategic location along the Camino Real de Tierra Adentro, the Royal Inland Road, where passed many mule trains delivering silver and gold from the north on their way to Mexico City. Multiple lodgings—mesones—were built in town along this road, which eventually became known as the Calle de Mesones (street of inns), and is now simply Mesones.

Another important development was the arrival of Spanish families to populate it. To persuade the people from the Iberian Peninsula—Spain, Portugal, and the Basque region—to relocate to the New World, the Spanish crown granted lands and privileges to any of them who wished to settle here. They were given land not only within the town itself, but also large parcels in the surrounding areas

The Spanish families that came here built their grand mansions around the central square in front of the church, and haciendas in the large territories outside of town. These were used for agriculture, ranching, and ancillary industries such as tanneries, blacksmithing, wool production, etc. which were needed for the large influx of mule trains passing through town. The indigenous people, natives of the area, were then brought in to work at all these industries.

According to the Spanish crown the native people were considered Spanish citizens and could therefore not be held as slaves. However, there were no restrictions on the amount of work that could be demanded of them, or under what conditions. So even though the natives could not be bought and sold, and were not nominally slaves; they were frequently badly treated by the owners, much overworked, and underpaid.

San Miguel reached its peak in the 18th century when the largest palaces and churches were built.  A major contributor to the growth was Manuel Tomas de la Canal, who was born in Mexico City in 1701 to a wealthy family. He moved to San Miguel el Grande, and married Maria de Hervas, daughter of a rich miner from Guanajuato. Aside from his generosity toward the Church, the construction of the Chapel of Loreto, and donations to the San Francisco church, he also started various industries, such as wool, leather, and agriculture.

Because of good soil and abundant water supply a large part of the work in San Miguel was agriculture. There were many orchards on the outskirts of the town—it is hard now to think of Parque Juarez or La Aldea as “outside,” but these were the outlying orchards, huertas, and the gardeners tending them were called hortelanos. The orchard where Hotel La Aldea is now belonged to one of the wealthiest families in town—Manuel Tomas de la Canal and his descendants—known as La Huerta Grande.

A view of Ancha de San Antonio in the 1960s. On the left is the current La Aldea

The hortelanos learned about San Pascual Baylon who was a saint venerated in Spain as patron of shepherds and cooks. Born in Valencia in 1540, he became a Franciscan friar who did manual works in convents. It is said that he experienced such joy during prayers that he sometimes rose up and began to dance. This has led some to suggest that his name is related to that activity since bailon could be interpreted as “dancer,” from the verb bailar. However, the moniker is simply his last name. The other connection is coincidence.

The celebration became a festival to thank San Pascual Bailon for a good harvest and incorporated dancing and singing. The hortelanos dressed up in costumes appropriate to what they did: the women as kitchen workers with the utensils used in cooking, the men carrying farming tools. They organized themselves in family groups and kept the festivities within the particular huerta they were connected to.

Eventually they expanded their festivities and included San Antonio de Padua—patron saint of the poor, the disabled, and the oppressed. This dual-saint festivity was held in the atrium of La Tercera Orden where there was (and still is), a statue of San Antonio de Padua, holding the infant Jesus. Later, they moved their celebration to the neighborhood of San Antonio in a private home that stood on the spot where the church of San Antonio is now. It was called Casa Colorada because it was painted red. Because Manuel Tomas de la Canal was also a devotee of San Antonio, he gave funds to build the church.

The hortelanos included a third saint—San Isidro Labrador (patron of farmers) in their festivities, and performed the danza de los hortelanos—the dance of the gardeners—with specific dances, like el torito, el gallo, and others. The festivities became quite popular, with so many onlookers, they interfered with the dancers. To frighten and repel them, frightful figures were introduced; the first being a scarecrow—an espantapajaros—a common sight in the orchards. Later, other figures with strange costumes were introduced, becoming more and more outrageous with time.

Some carried stuffed wild animals like skunks, squirrels, badgers, or snakes, which they poked at people to push them away from the dancers. It became a game and a spectacle, and people began to call them “locos”—the crazy ones, which encouraged the participants to create more flamboyant costumes and act out even more shockingly. Some of the “locos” dance, howl, scream, run and jump around to attract the public. Part of the original celebration by the hortelanos included carrying fruits from the orchard which they threw out to the public.

With the war of Independence in 1810, things changed considerably in San Miguel. Wealthy Spanish families fled, haciendas were abandoned, and the industries that had made the town great, disappeared. San Miguel entered an era of dormancy, with the population diminishing from a high of 80,000 people in the 19th century, to perhaps 10,000 by the beginning of the 20th century. The wild hortelano celebrations ended. In the next installment I will continue the tale of Los Locos and their resurgence in the 1960s.