Located between Mexico City and Veracruz, Puebla has been a political hub since its founding as Puebla de los Ángeles in 1531. Frances L. Ramos’s dynamic and meticulously researched study exposes and explains the many (and often surprising) ways that politics and political culture were forged, tested, and demonstrated through public ceremonies in eighteenth-century Puebla, colonial Mexico’s “second city.” With Ramos as a guide, we are not only dazzled by the trappings of power—the silk canopies, brocaded robes, and exploding fireworks—but are also witnesses to the public spectacles through which municipal councilmen consolidated local and imperial rule. By sponsoring a wide variety of carefully choreographed rituals, the municipal council made locals into audience, participants, and judges of the city’s tumultuous political life. Public rituals encouraged residents to identify with the Roman Catholic Church, their respective corporations, the Spanish Empire, and their city, but also provided arenas where individuals and groups could vie for power. As Ramos portrays the royal oath ceremonies, funerary rites, feast-day celebrations, viceregal entrance ceremonies, and Holy Week processions, we have to wonder who paid for these elaborate rituals—and why. Ramos discovers and decodes the intense debates over expenditures for public rituals and finds them to be a central part of ongoing efforts of councilmen to negotiate political relationships. Even with the Spanish Crown’s increasing disapproval of costly public ritual and a worsening economy, Puebla’s councilmen consistently defied all attempts to diminish their importance. Ramos innovatively employs a wealth of source materials, including council minutes, judicial cases, official correspondence, and printed sermons, to illustrate how public rituals became pivotal in the shaping of Puebla’s complex political culture.

This book presents a historical overview of colonial Mexico City and the important role it played in the creation of the early modern Hispanic world.

Viceroy Güemes’s Mexico: Rituals, Religion, and Revenue examines the career of Juan Francisco Güemes y Horcasitas, viceroy of New Spain from 1746 to 1755. It provides the best account yet of how the colonial reform process most commonly known as the Bourbon Reforms did not commence with the arrival of José de Gálvez, the visitador general to New Spain appointed in 1765. Rather, Güemes, ennobled as the conde de Revillagigedo in 1749, pushed through substantial reforms in the late 1740s and early 1750s, most notably the secularization of the doctrinas (turning parishes administering to Natives over to diocesan priests) and the state takeover of the administration of the alcabala tax in Mexico City. Both measures served to strengthen royal authority and increase fiscal revenues, the twin goals historians have long identified as central to the Bourbon reform project. Güemes also managed to implement these reforms without stirring up the storm of protest that attended the Gálvez visita. The book thus recasts how historians view eighteenth-century colonial reform in New Spain and the Spanish empire generally. Christoph Rosenmüller’s study of Güemes is the first in English-language scholarship that draws on significant research in a family archive. Using these rarely consulted sources allows for a deeper understanding of daily life and politics. Whereas most scholars have relied on the official communications in the great archives to emphasize tightly choreographed rituals, for instance, Rosenmüller’s work shows that much interaction in the viceregal palace was rather informal—a fact that scholars have overlooked. The sources throw light on meeting and greeting people, ongoing squabbles over hierarchy and ceremony, walks on the Alameda square, the role of the vicereine and their children, and working hours in the offices. Such insights are drawn from a rare family archive harboring a trove of personal communications. The resulting book paints a vivid portrait of a society undergoing change earlier than many historians have believed.

Almost universally, newly independent states make the production of new maps and atlases affirming their independence and identity a top priority, but the processes and practices by which previously colonized peoples become more engaged or re-engaged in mapping their own territories are rarely straightforward. This collection explores the relationship between mapping and decolonization while engaging recent theoretical debates about the nature of decolonization itself. The essays, originally delivered as the 2010 Kenneth Nebenzahl Jr. Lectures in the History of Cartography at the Newberry Library, encompass more than two centuries (from the late eighteenth through the twentieth) and three continents (Latin America, Africa, and Asia). Topics range from mapping and national identity in late colonial Mexico to the enduring crisis created by the partition of British India and the persistence of racial prejudices and the racialized organization of space in apartheid and postapartheid South Africa.

Maps are inherently unnatural. Projecting three-dimensional realities onto two-dimensional surfaces, they are abstractions that capture someone’s idea of what matters within a particular place; they require selections and omissions. These very characteristics, however, give maps their importance for understanding how humans have interacted with the natural world, and give historical maps, especially, the power to provide rich insights into the relationship between humans and nature over time. That is just what is achieved in Mapping Nature across the Americas. Illustrated throughout, the essays in this book argue for greater analysis of historical maps in the field of environmental history, and for greater attention within the field of the history of cartography to the cultural constructions of nature contained within maps. This volume thus provides the first in-depth and interdisciplinary investigation of the relationship between maps and environmental knowledge in the Americas—including, for example, stories of indigenous cartography in Mexico, the allegorical presence of palm trees in maps of Argentina, the systemic mapping of US forests, and the scientific platting of Canada’s remote lands.

El diablo llegó a América protegido por el imaginario colectivo y el mito tradicional, pero los autores del discurso contra la magia y los propios colonizadores afirmaron que siempre había estado allí, fungiendo como señor de los naturales, proclamándose dios entre las supersticiones y las idolatrías. Así que fue necesario gestionar en la continuidad de los discursos que alertaban, aleccionaban y protegían contra un enemigo capaz de disfrazarse y adoptar formas rituales autóctonas; comenzó entonces una nueva etapa en la redacción de textos asimilados a la tradición del discurso demonológico. La atención se centró en la idolatría; el enfoque remozó su prejuicio diferenciador, y el formato recurrió al tratado, al informe, y la literatura. En el presente libro se analizan algunas muestras representativas de este proceso cultural acaecido en la época novohispana, pero detectable aún bajo las bases de nuestra idiosincrasia, a la luz de la teoría que Occidente había legado para comprender la presencia del mal y sus representantes en el mundo.