BOOK REVIEWS
©Copyright 1994, Texas Catholic Historical Society
Notice: No book review may be reprinted or otherwise published, in print or electronically, without written permission from Catholic Southwest.

James F. Vanderholt, Carolyn B. Martinez, and Karen A. Gilman. The Diocese of Beaumont: The Catholic Story of Southeast Texas. Beaumont: Catholic Diocese of Beaumont. 1991. Pp. xi, 468. $25.00

This silver anniversary history of the Diocese of Beaumont traces Catholic activity in Southeast Texas from the first recorded entry of Catholicism into Texas in 1528 to the activities of the present day Diocese of Beaumont. Since Catholic activities in Southeast Texas began long before the establishment of the Diocese of Beaumont, and even before the establishment of the missions in San Antonio, the authors have wisely chosen to place the history of the Diocese of Beaumont in the larger context of the history of Catholicism in Texas. The inclusion of such broad range of facts as the first martyrs, the first preaching, the first sacraments, the first Catholic settlers, and the relationship of Catholicism with the wider culture--first of Native American peoples and later of non-Catholic immigrant and civic groups--provides a valuable presentation of the whole texture of Catholic life in this area. While not neglecting the need for well-ordered and comprehensive archival lists, this history also includes anecdotal stories of Catholic personages which give an idea of the character of the diocese.

The book is well organized into chapters on 1) the early, primarily Spanish missionary, history, 2) the development of dioceses in Texas from the establishment of the first diocese in Galveston in 1847 to the establishment of the Diocese of Beaumont in 1966, 3) a general chapter on the development of the Diocese of Beaumont in 1966, 3) a general chapter on the development of the Diocese of Beaumont from 1966 to its silver jubilee year in 1991, and specific chapters on 4) the ethnic diversity of the diocese (Mexican, Black, French, Italian, and Vietnamese), 5) education, 6) health care, 7) social services, 8) Catholic organizations, 9) religious communities, 10) histories of individual parishes and missions and 11) a chapter on individual priests, religious and lay people and families. The use of inserts to relate individual stories, like that of Angelina (the Indian maiden who helped some of the earliest missionaries), the Lady in Blue, and Dick Dowling; to consider some individual issues such as slavery and the Catholic church; or to give concise statistical accounts of the growth of the diocese at five year intervals, helps

organize and add interest to the history. The comprehensive lists of institutions, along with their founding and other major dates and events, as well as the necrology of sisters and priests provide valuable archival resources. The illustrations, including maps and pictures, are a pleasing and useful addition to the fine text. One disappointment to the scholar is the sparsity of footnotes and the absence of a bibliography. There are, however, some references imbedded in the text, especially where there is a lack of consensus regarding dates, places, and events in the early history of Southeast Texas.

In scope, organization, and presentation, this history should be pleasing to those who have a general interest in the Diocese of Beaumont, as well as useful to the historian with more scientific aims.

Michael D. Terranova
Boston College

Helen Simons and Cathryn A. Hoyt. Hispanic Texas: A Historical Guide. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1992. Pp. xviii, 502. $19.95 paper.

The Texas Historical Commission, along with the Department of Texas Parks and Wildlife, has been a forerunner in the preservation, restoration, and interpretation of the natural and historical resources of the State. This has been especially so because of the efforts of Executive Director Curtis Tunnell. In Hispanic Texas, the THC has again excelled. This publication represents substance of thought, superb organization, and an unrivaled Texas tribute to the Columbian Quincentenary (1492­1992) celebrations. Simons and Hoyt, staff archeologists, proved to be skilled editors and wise stewards of the gift from the Houston Endowment, Inc. "Part I: the Essays" demonstrates how virtually all aspects of contemporary Texas has been permeated by its nearly three hundred years of Spanish heritage. Focusing on early explorations that led to the survey and naming of the landscape and rivers, the volume includes the introduction of essential industry, the development of commerce in livestock, farming, and related trades. Permanent civil settlements, mission centers, and presidios providing military security recall the lifestyle of colonial pioneers and unfold some of the breadth of the Spanish legacy in Texas. Selected articles depicting the indelible Spanish imprint include those of Félix

D. Almaráz, Jr., Robert S. Weddle, Patricia A. Mercado-Allinger, Jack Jackson, Joe S. Graham, Enrique Madrid, James Steely, Roni Morales, Ann Perry and Jesús F. de La Teja.

"Part II: The Guidebook," ably created by Hoyt, Perry, Simons, and Smith, divides the states into seven regions, each centering around a major visitor center such as San Antonio, Laredo, and El Paso. Guidebook illustrations depict the topics and give significance to buildings, places and sites emphasizing their architectural and cultural importance. Sample illustrations of parks and scenic drives provide an understanding of an environment once once populated with Native Americans and traversed by colonial explorers and intrepid missionaries.

Noticeably, the volume does little to elaborate on the municipal character of town government that gave permanency to the first civil settlements in Texas. Furthermore, there is a technical error in the photo which incorrectly shows the belfry of San José Mission, but this is minor when considering the larger collection of polychrome illustrations enhancing the volume's importance.

Almost without parallel is the amount of information on early Catholic communities and churches which undoubtedly instills pardonable pride in Catholic readers upon understanding the measure of Catholic pioneer effort in the creation of the Lone Star State. This volume deserves a place in school and church libraries across Texas.

Gilbert R. Cruz
Glendale Community College

Joe S. Graham, editor. Hecho en Tejas: Texas-Mexican Folk Arts and Crafts. (Publications of the Texas Folklore Society, volume 50.) Denton: University of North Texas Press, 1991. Pp. xi, 357. $29.95

Before quality-of-life lost out to standard-of-living, people's lives were characterized by many medieval or at least preindustrial arts and crafts because many of the items of their material culture they made themselves. They learned to make these things in informal settings--in face-to-face folk groups such as families, work groups, and age-mate groups, rather than in the

elite and official settings of schools and churches nor in the mass-culture settings of factories. Since by and large these things and the people who continue to make them do not appear on TV, they seem not to exist--"If you're not on TV, you're not real." But they exist, things and people both, and they are important, instructive, informative, and indisputably real.

This is a good book to read because it conveys the rewards of serious research about these seemingly inconsequential things and the people who made and still make them. Properly understood, elements of material culture offer a privileged pipeline into the inner workings of the total culture. They exemplify the ways that humans share God's own creativity, by making parts of the world they live in, and share God's own redemptive action, by transforming inadequate nature, suffusing the artifacts they make from nature with an intelligibility and spirituality nature could never supply on its own.

Although nearly every essay opens with a paragraph that threatens the reader with cosmic Platonic generalities, the essays soon get down to their concrete Aristotelian business and stay with it nicely. Whether they examine things as small as a horsehair hatband, a paper flower, or a rawhide boton or as large as a house, a ranch, or a whole city, they convince the reader that he or she needs to know the tradition in order to understand and evaluate any single artifact produced within it. The extremely plentiful black and white photos, while often technically amateur, are unquestionably taken by those who know what they're looking at, and so they are very effective in convening the particularity that makes a tradition real. The fifteen authors deal with saddles and other vaquero items; quilts and paper flowers; ceramics, piñatas, and musical instruments; matachín costumes and other ethnic clothing; home altars, outdoor shrines, and other yard art; descansos and roadside crosses; jacales, a whole set of ranch improvements, and the material-culture dimension of the vibrant Mexican ways of life in the city of San Antonio. Editor Joe Graham, author of the recent Mexican-American Material Culture (1989), presents three essays as well as an introduction and a general bibliography (each essay has its own bibliography).

If I may be grumpy for a moment, the book--like most books from local and regional presses--could have used stronger copyediting to avoid some verbal infelicities and some minor inconsistencies of logic (pp. 282­83). The index is ample, but it would be better if it didn't alphabetize by el, la, las, and los and if it weren't lacking entries like carrizo, milagro, naguilla, and quinceañeras. The book is well printed and well bound, a solid book in its

physical makeup and in its contents, a book made to last--just like the traditions it treats.

Thomas J. Steele, S.J.
Regis University, Denver

Randi Jones Walker. Protestantism in the Sangre de Cristos, 1850­1920. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1991. Pp. x, 163. $27.50

When one reads this book, one is struck by its brevity. The author has presented in these brief pages a wealth of balanced material that is useful to the classroom person or historialphile of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. The briefness, however, does fill in rather essential information of an era of that region's history that certainly needs clarification and elucidation. It was a brief era of transition that affected the Spanish speaking of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado of the present era.

Each era of history affects the next era--a truism. However, in this era of 1850­1920, the coming to grips by Spanish-speaking people in this region of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado with the point that they were no longer attached to Mexico was crucial. Crucial in the sense that new political, social, and religious forces would never allow the ancient Spanish speakers to remain the same--not even in the isolated valleys of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado.

Northern New Mexico and southern Colorado realized an impact of religious fervor brought in by various Protestant missionaries. This religious impact was to affect these two areas politically, through religious "change," because the "new religion brought with it political "Americanization." This meant that involvement in politics was essential to being an American. In order to become Americanized, one would have to speak the correct language, worship in the correct church, and even adopt the correct lifestyle (maybe change the ways of farming, the types of food one ate, how one dressed, and how one worshipped).

The Americanization process of the Spanish-speaking in northern New Mexico and southern Colorado (both in the Protestant churches and the Roman Catholic church) through religious and secular instruction did not succeed. It did not

succeed mainly because the evangelizers/teachers who came to Americanize recognized little or no value in the religious and cultural background of the people they had come to "save."

The author has presented a balanced study of the collision of Protestantism and Catholicism in this era, with emphasis on the Protestantism in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado.

Barnabas Diekemper, O.F.M.
Alexian Village of Tennessee
Signal Mountain, Tennessee

Bernardo P. Gallegos. Literacy, Education, and Society in New Mexico: 1693­1821. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1992. Pp. viii, 119. $27.50 cloth, $11.95 paper.

Literacy, Education, and Society in New Mexico is a curious study: more a set of preliminary findings on the topics mentioned in the title than a completed study. Nevertheless it makes some useful contributions to borderland studies. Chapters two, three, and four--which actually deal with educational opportunities, literacy rates, and the social uses and limitations of literacy--are based on interesting archival work in the extensive documentation available for colonial New Mexico. Ironically, much of the material survives despite Governor William A. Pile's efforts in 1869­1870 to dispose of the archives by sending some to an outhouse, throwing others out of the governor's palace, and selling still others as wrapping paper.

Among the book's useful insights is the conclusion that male literacy in eighteenth century New Mexico ran at about one-third the population (p. 53). Another finding worthy of note is that craftsmen seemed to have preferred apprentice applicants who could read and write (p. 40). Unfortunately, Gallegos does not speculate on why craftsmen would impose such a condition (perhaps literacy was considered proof of intelligence).

Along with underdeveloped lines of inquiry, the work contains conclusions that are little more than truisms. For instance: "Adults were expected to provide religious instruction for their children, along with general training in the customs and ways of participating in culture" (p.37), or "Writing served as a

means of proving ownership of land and as an instrument for obtaining it, through the means of petition" (p.81). How effective parents were in carrying out their socialization duties and how New Mexican land grant documents differed--if they differed--from colonial norms are questions that are not addressed.

There are other problems with the text. Long quotes, sometimes used in place of analysis, narrative, and emphasis, give the appearance of "padding" what is already a slim essay. Sometimes there is little evidence of any effort to get beyond the documentation. For instance, in discussing book ownership (pp. 53­60), Gallegos has only this to say about the kinds of materials found in colonial libraries: "The material discovered so far is generally religious in nature, although some political and scientific titles are listed" (p. 60). No effort is made to determine how these titles might have fit into the everyday needs of the owners, nor how representative they might be of colonial reading habits in general. Similarly, the author makes no attempt to delve into the educational backgrounds of those doing the teaching in New Mexico, specifically the Franciscans, although much has been written about their training--most recently by Ramón Gutiérrez in a work cited by Gallegos.

Jesús F. de la Teja
Southwest Texas State University

David H. Snow, editor. The Native American and Spanish Colonial Experience in the Greater Southwest, I: Introduction to the Documentary Records. (Spanish Borderlands Sourcebooks, Volume 9.) New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1992, Pp. ix, 497. $77.00.

David H. Snow, editor. The Native American and Spanish Colonial Experience in the Greater Southwest, II: Introduction to the Research. (Spanish Borderlands Sourcebooks, Volume 10.) New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1992. Pp. ix, 510. $98.00.

The Garland Publishing Company, under the series editorship of David Hurst Thomas of the American Museum of Natural History, has embarked on a massive publication project which plans to reprint in a projected twenty-seven volume set almost five hundred significant scholarly articles, essays, and

documentary sources dealing with the historical experiences in the Spanish Borderlands of North America. For the most part, each selection chosen for inclusion has been previously published elsewhere in a museum series, journal, anthology, or monograph. The individual volumes of the series, each edited by a major scholar specializing in the particular subject treated, are focused on a particular historiographical, geographical, or topical theme. Taken together, the entire project seeks to present a collection of scholarly articles and documentary sources upon which a reader may begin a borderlands history study.

The two volumes under review are both edited by David H. Snow, constituting numbers nine and ten of the series. Both of them center on the same theme: relations between Native Americans and Spaniards from the period of initial contact to the late eighteenth century. The geographical emphasis is primarily on New Mexico and Arizona, to the general exclusion of Texas except for the explorations launched from New Mexico. Volume nine, which carries the subtitle "Introduction to the Documentary Records," is composed entirely of an eclectic selection of Spanish historical documents translated into English. As such, there are eighteen Spanish relaciones or memoirs--original accounts or observations of Native American tribes by Spaniards who were active in the southwestern Borderlands region from the 1540s to the 1780s. Professor Snow provides a short, several paragraph introduction to the volume which fails to provide a common thematic interpretation for the selections and does not present a common historical context. Some of the selections are well-known to Borderlands students, including the journal of Cabeza de Vaca, the muster roll Francisco Vásquez de Coronado, the narrative of the Chamuscado-Rodríguez expedition of 1581, Juan de Frias Salazar's 1597 inspection of Oñate's New Mexico, and Pedro Fermín de Mendinueta's proposals for the defense of New Mexico made during the 1770s. Relatively more obscure selections include testimonies about the inquisition in New Mexico, a recent translation of Antonio Ruiz' narrative of the Ybarra expedition, and documents dealing with Juan Ignacio Flores Magollón's campaign against the Pueblos of 1714. Among the translators are some of the most distinguished practitioners of borderlands scholarship: Arthur S. Aiton, Charles W. Hackett, George Peter Hammond, Agapito Rey, John Kessel, and Alfred B. Thomas.

Volume ten, dealing with the same theme as the documentary selections in volume nine, reprints eighteen articles or essays drawn from the secondary historical or anthropological literature on topics which are sometimes generally

related to the documents contained in the previous volume. Again, Professor Snow provides a very brief introduction and lets the selections stand on their own without context of unified explanation. Carl O. Sauer's essay deals with the credibility of the Fray Marcos de Niza accounts, Waldo R. Wedel's classic essay examines archeological remains of the Coronado expedition in modern Kansas, Frederick Hodge's 1926 article analyzes the six cities of Cibola, and France V. Scholes's 1940 selection surveys the documentary records dealing with the Jumanos. The majority of the essays in this volume--some eleven in number--are archeological field reports, anthropological notes, or essays dealing with specific site excavations or artifact interpretation. These include an evaluation of crossbow boltheads from Pueblo sites, a report on the 1974 excavations at Santa Fe's Palace of the Governors, several reports on the archeology at New Mexico's Cochiti Dam site, and other essays dealing with identification of Native American pottery.

These two volumes share common strengths and weaknesses, some of which are attributable not to their editor particularly, but instead to the general series guidelines. To his credit, Professor Snow has chosen a selection of thirty-six documents and essays which admirably highlight examples of accomplished borderlands scholarship while reconfirming its diversity across this century, presenting its varied methods of scholarly analysis, and reaffirming the continuing need for interdisciplinary union between historians and anthropologists. The direct relationship between the secondary historical articles on one hand, and the particular documents and archeological reports on the other, is often tenuous. Since no individual selection has an editor's introduction or other explanatory material, it is entirely incumbent upon the reader to provide internal synthesis and integrated context to each of the volumes. In some cases, this might stretch the ability of all but the most experienced and specialized of readers. Moreover, Professor Snow's volumes make little effort to provide a comprehensive and complete group of selections which would present a balanced historiographical picture of the entire literature on the topic. For example, most of the selections by historians are from earlier generations of scholars and, although classics of the literature, these volumes ignore the more recent work of modern writers including Elizabeth A. H. John, José Sánchez, W. W. Newcomb, and dozens of others who are currently redefining Native American-Hispanic relations in the Spanish Borderlands.

The greatest weakness occurs with the entire series, manifested by a specific example in the two volumes under review--namely, that of intended

audience. Each volume is simply a collection of exact copies of the selected items as they first appeared in their forms of origin, reproduced completely by an offset process with original page numbers and typesetting. A few selections are simply reproduced typescripts. Indeed, the best way to describe the entire series, of which Professor Snow's volumes are very representative, is by saying that it is composed of twenty-seven bound volumes of photocopies with minimal, if any, editorial commentary. This raises the question: for whom is this series intended? Specialists, and even intermediate students, of the Spanish Borderlands already have easy access in libraries and by interlibrary loan to most--if not all--of the selections in the series and considerably more which is not included. Beginning students and casual readers, on the other hand, might well be misled in consulting the series that it represents a comprehensive and up-to-date assessment of Borderlands scholarship. This it most certainly does not do, especially in considering the more recent historical scholarship. Luckily for both groups of potential users, the substantial price of each volume in the series will probably dissuade purchase by most individuals or any institutional library which does not service Borderlands scholarship as a primary mission.

Light Townsend Cummins
Austin College

Sister M. Protasia Hofstetter, F.M.I., History of the Franciscan Sisters of Mary Immaculate in the United States of America 1932­1992. Amarillo: Miller National Corporation, Printer. Pp. ix, 336. $165.00

During the past decade a number of authors, particularly women religious, have published histories of the contribution their congregations have made to the spiritual, educational, and humanitarian life of the church and the world. A recent work is that of Sister M. Protasia Hofstetter, F.M.I., who traces the history of the Franciscan Sisters of Mary Immaculate in the United States during the past sixty years. She has an interesting story to tell. An offshoot of the Secular Third Order of St. Francis, known as the Beguines, these dedicated women were asked at the time of the Council of Trent (1563) either to form a monastic community or to cease their charitable work. The members

who accepted the restriction founded the convent of Maria Hilf in Alstatten, St. Gall, Switzerland. The order flourished in the beginning, but it was not long before the anticlerical movements of the French Revolution (p.3) resulted in a dearth of vocations and unbelievable poverty. In the late nineteenth century, the convent of Maria Hilf experienced a renewal of religious life. Responding to the church's request for religious men and women to embrace a call to missionary life and work, seven sisters emigrated to Ecuador, South America. Everywhere they encountered persecution and were eventually forced to move to Tuquerres, Columbia, where they established a motherhouse in the Americas at Pasto, Columbia.

The congregation spread rapidly and before long had foundations in Costa Rica and the American Canal Zone, ministering primarily to the native peoples. In 1932 Bishop Rudolph A. Gerkin of Amarillo, Texas, begged for communities of sisters to staff elementary schools in his diocese, especially among the Mexican poor. The Franciscan Sisters of Mary Immaculate readily answered his call to serve here and established their first motherhouse in North America, having decided to limit their apostolic work of education to the states of Texas, California, and New Mexico. They arrived at a critical time of economic depression "due to prolonged droughts, rampant unemployment and the fluctuating prices of wheat and eggs." (p.15) Their suffering paralleled that of many other pioneering religious congregations: stark poverty, little funds for bare necessities and inadequately equipped schools. The decade of the 1980's was "the saddest chapter in the history of the order" (p. 34) when one-third of the members separated to form an independent, autonomous community--something that was occurring in other sisterhoods. The tragic death of one of the sisters, brutally murdered on the Eve of All Saints Day, intensified their sufferings. (p. 305­06)

The number of photographs and reported details of the sister's activities, garnered from archival sources, indicate that this study has been written with accuracy and care. The story could not have been told, perhaps, in any other way, but one experiences a lack of excitement in most of the narratives. It would seem that these events might have been depicted more interestingly if they were interpreted and critically analyzed as outgrowths of the social and cultural background of the period. Unquestionably, the exorbitant price of the volume will impede a "voluminous" sale even to members of the congregation. However, the value of this study to historians of religious orders in the Catholic Church must be acknowledged. Likewise, the undeniable contribution to the story of the United States history that is not too often scholarly

researched by modern writers must be recognized.

Virgina Geiger, S.S.N.D.
College of Notre Dame of Maryland

Christopher J. Kauffman. Faith and Fraternalism: the History of the Knights of Columbus. Revised edition. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1992. Pp. xxix, 559. $45.00.

When Christopher J. Kauffman's Faith and Fraternalism first appeared in 1982 to mark the one hundredth of the Knights of Columbus' founding, the book was well received as a first-rate American Catholic history. The merits of Kauffman's first edition remain in this revision and updating. The celebration of the Quincentenary of Christopher Columbus' discovery of America provided the Knights the opportunity to commission Kauffman to revise his original work. Kauffman took advantage of the new commission to correct mistakes that crept into the text as well as to narrate the history of the order in the ten years that separated the publication of the first and revised editions. The new commission also enabled Kauffman to add a chapter on the significance of the order's founder, Fr. Michael J. McGivney. In his introduction to this Quincentenary edition, he also examined the recent literature on fraternalism and explored more closely the historical roots of Columbianism.

Thus the work in either edition remains valuable for those interested in the history of fraternal orders and the reasons for their attractiveness to Catholics of the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Kauffman provides significant information on the contributions of the Knights to American Catholic society in their support for the Catholic University of America; their defence of the Catholic Church against the attacks of bigots and nativists; the role the Knights of Columbus played as the primary agent of the Church in serving the needs of American servicemen in World War I; the efforts of the Knights to rally support for the Catholic Church in Mexico in the years after the First World War; and their many other services to the Church. While detailing the Knights' accomplishments, Kauffman does not gloss over the internal conflicts between factions within the Knights nor does he neglect a

discussion of the various conflicts in which the Knights became embroiled with the American bishops.

For all its depth and honesty, the work still has limits. When Bishop Matthew Harkins of Providence was approached a few years after Fr. McGivney founded the Knights in Connecticut in order to secure his approbation of the order, Harkins initially refused to approve the setting up of a council in Providence because he wished to see the Catholic Foresters established in the State with the belief that the diocese could support only one such organization. Harkins preferred the Foresters to the Knights in part because chaplains for the courts of the Foresters were appointed while the chaplains for the Knights were elected by that particular council's members. Harkins would relent in his opposition to the Knights but continued to press various officials of the order to make a change in the way the chaplains were selected. In 1905 the State Chaplain was made an appointive office and was given charge of the selection of council chaplains, but Kauffman gives no explanation for the change.

By 1924 there were more than sixty caravans of the Order of the Alhambra organized by the Knights in the United States and Canada after the model of similar groups affiliated with other fraternal organizations such as the Masons. The order was not recognized by the Supreme Office in New Haven; thus, one will look in vain for even a mention of the order in Kauffman's work. Kauffman does discuss the fraternal ecumenism which developed between the Knights and the Masons after the mid-1960s, but he apparently lacked any information on earlier attempts at fraternal ecumenism which occurred on the grass-roots level in the late 1920s.

The above observations, concerning what is not found in Faith and Fraternalism, are not made by way of criticism but to point out that, while Kauffman has produced an excellent and valuable work, the story of the Knights of Columbus is not yet complete. Until such time as the member councils and the various state assemblies produce histories of their own, certain questions about the Knights of Columbus will remain unanswered.

Rev. Robert W. Hayman
Providence College

Marc Simmons, Donna Pierce, and Joan Myers. Santiago: Saint of Two Worlds. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. 1991. Pp. ix, 73. $45.00

The authors of Santiago: Saint of Two Worlds, Joan Myers, Marc Simmons and Donna Pierce, approach the subject of St. James the Greater hoping to shed some light on one important segment of traditional Hispanic culture for the English-speaking readers. Saint James, known as Santiago or Santiago Matamoros to Spaniards, is the patron saint of Spain and honored with many place names and church dedications in the Americas. The discovery of his uncorrupted body, eight hundred years entombed in Galicia, consequentially influenced the course of events in Spain and fostered the development of a national character of people. Likewise, his association as a protector of soldiers, especially those fighting the enemies of the church, made him a popular saint in the New World from the time of the conquistadores to the mid-nineteenth century, particularly in South America, Mexico, and the southwestern United States.

Joan Myers, photographer and essayist, leads the reader first on a pilgrimage across northern Spain from Roncevalles west to Santiago de Compostela, a favorite destination for devout Christians during the Middle Ages. Significantly, Myers captures with her photographs the Medieval religious philosophy which viewed this world as a place to be endured, much like the arduous pilgrimage route, while the pilgrim anticipated the heavenly rewards or the satisfaction of reaching the sacred shrine of St. James. Her choice of black and white photographs helps convey this feeling of difficulty. Then, Myers takes the reader on an even more vivid and interpretive journey with her essay. If the photographs are to be compared with her essay, she surpasses the visual progression along the route with her image-creating words.

The Marc Simmons essay brings together the numerous stories, scholarly and popular, related to the historical and religious importance of the saint in both Spain and the Americas. He effectively condenses the legends, miracles and biographical information about Santiago to make a comprehensible figure of the saint. An annotated reference section at the conclusion of the Simmons segment of the book suggests several sources for further study of Santiago.

The third essay, written by Art Historian Donna Pierce, traces the representational evolution of St. James as an apostle, a pilgrim, and a warrior in sculpture and in paintings. His image was symbolically portrayed by the

early Christians in the catacomb paintings as a lamb, following Christ who was depicted as a shepherd. During the Romanesque era, St. James often appeared in architectural sculpture as one of twelve identical men flanking a representation of Christ. St. James is also depicted as a pilgrim because of his extensive travels. In this likeness he usually wears a cloak and a wide-brimmed hat while grasping a pilgrim's staff with a water gourd attached. When St. James is portrayed in art as a warrior, typically he is astride a white horse, carrying a red and white banner in one hand and a sword in the other. Photographs also taken by Joan Myers illustrate the European and American artworks described by Pierce.

Pierce concludes her essay with a summary statement that seems appropriate for the entire book. "Perhaps St. James, the humble fisherman from Galilee, best deserves his avocation as pilgrim for he has indeed traveled many miles."

Joanne Stevens
Collin County Community College

Luis N. Rivera. A Violent Evangelism: The Political and Religious Conquest of the Americas. Louisville: Westminster/John Know Press, 1992. Pp. xviii, 357. $19.99 paper.

It could very well be that, despite the best efforts of its promoters, the 1992 Quincentenary of Columbus' first voyage to the Americas generated more controversy than celebration, and even a glance at the title of this volume--an English version of a work originally published in 1991 as Evangelización y violencia: la conquista de América (San Juan: Editorial CEMI)--indicates an intention to be critical rather than panegyrical. The point is made even clearer in the foreword to this edition, where Rivera, Associate Professor of Humanities at the University of Puerto Rico, characterizes the book as "a tribute of honor and respect to the native peoples of the Americas, militarily defeated and culturally oppressed, offered in sacrifice to the worship of a peculiar messianic providentialism, conjoined with the ambitions and cupidity of the epoch" (p. xv). The tone throughout is decidedly judgmental and will strike many readers as strident. Rivera declares, for instance, that referring to Columbus' accomplishment as an act of discovery "reveals a deep-rooted and

anachronistic ethnocentrism" (p. 4), and in an attempt to prove that the decimation of the original inhabitants of the Americas is properly described as a holocaust, he treats those who emphasize the essentially epidemiological character of the disaster with more than a trace of scorn: "In this view, it was a matter of mosquitoes, lice, fleas, bacteria, viruses, and germs! Missing is a critical and concrete analysis of the social context of the epidemics, their relation to the breakdown of the social order, the disaster in agricultural production, the degradation of autochthonous values, and the use of natives as instruments for the avaricious search for precious metals" (p. 179).

While A Violent Evangelism unapologetically represents a strong point of view, it would be a mistake to dismiss it as mere polemic. Its purpose is not to reinforce a simplistic version of the old "black legend" of Spanish cruelty and greed but to investigate the disagreement among sixteenth century theorists regarding the philosophical and theological propriety of Spanish policy in the Western Hemisphere--and thereby to demonstrate that there existed a keen realization that the policy required principled justification and could not be permitted to rest on mere considerations of profit and expediency, even if political and economic interests ultimately overwhelmed more idealistic concerns. To this end Rivera dissects the arguments of Bartolome de Las Casas, Francisco de Vitoria, Juan Gínes de Sepúlveda, José de Acosta, Toribio de Motolinia, and numerous others. Given his predispositions, it is hardly surprising that he sympathizes with the stance enunciated by Las Casas, whose positions are most forcefully laid out and whom Rivera regularly seeks to rescue from detractors even while portraying him as fallible and overly utopian in outlook, but the analysis of all the pertinent texts is generally sound and always trenchant. Rivera also tellingly engages other modern scholars whose conclusions differ from his own; therefore, if the reader moves beyond the book's sometimes overheated rhetoric to consider its actual substance, the reader will find it a real contribution to the continuing debate over the nature of the European confrontation with the original inhabitants of the Americas, though admittedly not an "objective" treatment.

Two concluding points. While ordinarily clear, the English occasionally betrays its origin as translation. It is misleading, for instance, to speak of "the mysterious journeys of the Normans in the eleventh century" (p. 4) when it would be far more accurate to speak of Viking or Scandinavian exploration, and Rivera does not "quote extensively" (p. 296) from Aristotle's Politics--but merely cites a brief excerpt, filled with ellipses, to support his characterization of the Aristotelian notion that inferior persons can properly

be enslaved. Finally, some readers will take offense at the secular bias which informs Rivera's account. In discussing a suggestion by Las Casas that the mistreatment of the Native Americans might lead to the eternal damnation of members of the Council of the Indies, for instance, Rivera parenthetically notes that the threat of hell was "not considered a literary metaphor then" (p. 247), as though it must necessarily be dismissed as one today. Despite the author's confidence, there remain many who would dispute such an assumption.

Francis R. Swietek
University of Dallas

David J. Weber. The Spanish Frontier in North America. New Haven: Yale University Press. 1992. Pp. xx, 579. $35.00

Whether part of the cause, part of the effect, or part of both, the academic world has mirrored the apparent fragmentation of American culture. History has not been immune from this circumstance. New methodologies, new issues, and especially new groups to be taken into historical account have all contributed to a self-consciousness among many historians lacking fundamental focus in their field. The traditional importance of political and institutional developments as a sort of trunk for the narrative tree has seemingly given way to an emphasis upon branches, and even leaves, with little sense of how the revisioned tree is actually configured. Works of historical synthesis seem harder to come by given the proliferation of specialized studies and specialized interests. The history of what has been called the Spanish Borderlands in North America, today the southeastern and southwestern parts of the United States, has not escaped this general condition of fragmentation and specialization in American historiography. To suggest the appearance of a, as it were, tree surgeon, is perhaps to push the analogy a bit too far. Yet, David J. Weber's extraordinary volume functions as a historical therapy, a conscious effort to offer a balanced yet critical synthesis of historiographic fragments, old and new, in order to achieve a "fresh overview" of Spain's frontier in what would become the United States. And this he does very well.

Weber's work has two basic, integrated purposes: "to explain Spain's impact on the lives, institutions, and environments of native peoples of North

America, and the impact of North America on the lives and institutions of those Spaniards who explored and settled what has now become the United States" (p. 8) and "to broaden our understanding of the American past by illuminating its Hispanic origins" (p. 9). His first purpose is served by a judicious presentation of the fruits of historical scholarship, new and old, and an informed use of printed primary sources. The result is a deceptively simple but rich narrative of the histories of Florida, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California from the early sixteenth century to the early nineteenth century. The complexities of critical historical interpretation are noticed in the text but especially attended to in his extensive footnotes, some of which are akin to mini-historiographical essays. For a non-specialist, Weber's footnotes particularly reveal the dimensions of a field whose vitality is marked by active cooperation among scholars from many different disciplines. In turn, the self-consciously inclusive nature of Weber's presentation--various disciplines and historical methodologies, the different peoples, their competing cultures--suggests the possibilities for a more inclusive history of the United States. Weber does not seem to overclaim regarding the nation's "Hispanic origins," but his own accomplishment and synthetic enterprise serve to anticipate and to encourage this yet larger project.

It is perhaps a bit jarring to read about the activities of the Franciscan missionaries as in the service of "their god," but Weber's overall presentation of the various "Conquistadores of the Spirit" does appear to be an effort at a balanced, sympathetic assessment. While the story of early Texas, told within such a comprehensive context, assumes its appropriate historical importance, the context itself facilitates a more comparative perspective for that local story. One quibble: given Weber's usual sensitivity to various ethnicities, cultures, and the human condition, his tone regarding Spain's eventual "avaricious neighbor" to the north is perhaps a trifle too definitive. Those Yankees do not, in fact, all 'look alike.'

In the end, though, this is a wonderful book. Not only does Weber serve his own particular historiographical purposes well, he also contributes to the essential task of creating reconfigured examples of synthesis for use in our common historical enterprise, a cultural responsibility often enriched by the sometimes bewildering varieties of contemporary scholarship.

Thomas W. Jodziewicz
University of Dallas

Bishop David Arias. Spanish Roots of America. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Publishing Division. 1992. Pp. 352. Paper $9.95.

This reviewer recalls his response not long ago to the publisher of an American history survey textbook. About to prepare a new edition of the book, the publisher requested suggestions that might be helpful in the revision. My response was ready--there should be more about the Hispanic part of American history. The author of the article, "The Spain Among us," appearing in the April 1993 issue of American Heritage would agree, and I am sure so would Bishop David Arias, the author of Spanish Roots of America.

Bishop Arias took the Columbus Quincentennial as an occasion to put the Spanish presence in America before the public once again. A native of Spain who has served for years in the United States, he feels strongly that the contributions of his native land to this country are insufficiently known and appreciated here. Educators and historians are falling down on the job. He speaks in his introduction about the "incomprehensible omission" from the historical record of so much that is part of the American heritage. This goes for contributions from Spanish American countries as well as from Spain itself.

The organization of Spanish Roots is a little different from the usual. The first of its two major parts is a rather brief narrative history, beginning with Spanish policy in America and concluding with notes on leading Hispanic figures of American history within what is now the United States. Evangelization is given a special chapter. Particularly telling for the author's purposes are chapters on the neglected story of how Spain helped North America in its war for independence and on "Hispanidad in the United States." The second and longer part of the book is a chronology with dates and short accounts of what was happening on those dates. Thus a reader in Laredo, flipping by chance to the year 1747, will see that Jose Escandon was then engaged in colonizing that part of the Lower Rio Grande Valley.

A rather full appendix is divided into a number of sections. Among them is a list of governors of Hispanic origin who served here either before or after it was the United States. (I did not see "my" governor, i.e., dissertation topic, Antonio Cordero of Texas, 1805­1808, among them.) There are also lists of missions and forts. And, providing support for the author's emphasis on the benevolence of Spanish colonial policy, there is a section with the text of Queen Isabella's "Proclamation on the treatment of Indians."

Borderlands historians must be left to their own reflections on this new book that came into their field anno Domini 1992. They will surely agree that the Hispanic side of United States history needs to be kept before educators, students, and the general public. They will welcome this help toward that goal, and, unless they are grouches, they will be delighted with the attractive cover that artist Monica Watts has designed for the volume, a cover that should help get it into libraries, classrooms, and the hands of readers. The brevity and topicality of the survey in Part One should have some pedagogical advantages.

No doubt some will question the objectivity of an author so deeply loyal to his native land and to his church. It is a Quincentennial book and the Quincentennial celebration was not as upbeat as its well-wishers would have liked. The Zeitgeist as well as the record called forth sharp criticism of Columbus and the long-term Spanish action in the New World. On the other side, valiant efforts were made to show the high achievements of both. In the course of the debate, objectivity often suffered. That may in some degree be true of Spanish Roots in America. Bishop Arias does well to remind his readers of the magnificence, the idealism, and in many ways the beneficence of the Spanish achievement. But he may have put too much blame on Father de las Casas for giving people, especially the enemies of Spain, something to talk about.

All said, this handsome and forthright book deserves to be recommended for school, public, and private libraries.

William Dunn, CSC
St. Edward's University

David J. O'Brien. Isaac Hecker: an American Catholic. New York and Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press. 1992. Pp. ix, 446. $25.00

Isaac Hecker (1818­1888)--a novice in American Transcendentalism, a convert to Catholicism, the founder of the Paulists, and a topic of much controversy after his death--has become the subject of several studies in recent years, but O'Brien's work is the first full biography since Walter Elliott's The Life of Father Hecker (1891), a book which became the center of the storm over Americanism. O'Brien's biography will produce no similar

typhoon in the post-Vatican II era. It is, however, a must read for all who want to understand American Catholicism.

For O'Brien, Hecker is something of a model for relating Catholicism to the modern world and an important key for unlocking the various dynamics in late-twentieth as well as mid-nineteenth century American Catholicism. Hecker's love for America, his optimistic affirmation of human freedom, his passionate desire for union with God, his faith in the Holy Spirit's indwelling, his emphasis upon the sacramental life as a divine response to the human yearning for God, his loyalty to Catholicism, and his supreme confidence in the providence of God in history are characteristics of Hecker's life that O'Brien finds pertinent to contemporary Catholicism.

The biography is set in the context of a continuing debate over the issue of the Catholic's and the church's relation to modern culture. How can Catholics possess personal and ecclesiastical integrity, live in the pluralistic society that respects human freedom, and carry out the Christian mission of evangelizing the world? O'Brien's biography will not resolve that issue, but it will demonstrate clearly the parameters of that discussion in the nineteenth century and show how Hecker responded to it in ways that satisfied neither the dominant immigrant tradition, which was in O'Brien's judgment narcissistically preoccupied with self-preservation, nor nineteenth century liberal Catholics, who "often sought a comfortable place in the world." O'Brien's Hecker looked to the church as the medium of salvation and to the world as the arena of evangelization. He desired to draw individuals and the whole of society into the church's mystical presence in order to realize the divine plan for universal redemption and provide a rest for those who, like himself, were earnest seekers after the true, the good, and the beautiful.

O'Brien's Hecker had his faults. Unlike other members of his religious community, Hecker at time could afford to be self-indulgent because of his brother's wealth. He also periodically engaged in self-pity and was preoccupied throughout his life with a kind of mystical Christianity that O'Brien believes allowed him to slight or pass over the violence and abuse of power in the Civil War and in American institutions, the poverty and alienation of the masses of immigrants who surrounded him in the church, and the ruthless economic forces that were producing an industrial society that reinforced individualism in American life.

O'Brien's biography is the best study of Isaac Hecker to date. It is a well written and well researched examination of Hecker's life within the context of nineteenth century American conflicts and controversies. O'Brien gives us a

story that is readable, an analysis that is helpful, and a sense of the man that reveals his vices as well as his virtues. O'Brien's Hecker is a credible human being and a nineteenth century American Catholic.

Some historians might judge O'Brien's biography to be governed excessively by a present-mindedness that does not allow the presentation of Hecker to escape the debates of the contemporary church. Others will undoubtedly find in O'Brien's resurrection of Hecker as a model for Catholics a story that is both critical and celebratory of the contemporary, as well as the nineteenth century, Catholic experience.

Whether or not one agrees with O'Brien's characterization of Hecker and the nineteenth century American Catholic controversies, anyone interested in knowing about Hecker and investigating American Catholicism will find O'Brien's study indispensable. O'Brien's own sympathies are clear throughout, and whether one agrees with them or not, one is warned from the beginning that this history has contemporary relevance.

Patrick W. Carey
Marquette University