It is with genuine pleasure that I bring to the founders of the Academy of American Franciscan History the good wishes and congratulations of the Harvard Graduate School of Arts and Sciences.

Having said this, and having said it with all the sincerity at my command, I ought, if a Spartan laconicism were proper, to sit down. The assembly will recognize, I am sure, that I am a pious fraud. I represent a novel and interesting version of what I may term invincible ignorance. I venture to address you as fellow students, but I do not dare to address you as fellow scholars, since this would either exalt me beyond my desert or degrade you below your merit. This Academy is being founded to recapture a tradition descending from the Middle Ages—and I am no mediaevalist, except in the sense that it was once said of a lady of uncertain time of life that around her hung the last enchantments of the middle ages. You are launching an historical venture, but I am, alas, only a dean, and no opinion is more universal in the learned world than that a dean, whatever lower virtues he may possess, is ipso facto no scholar. When the harassed chairman of an alumni club, in search of better oratory, wired the president of his alma mater to send him a good speaker, preferably a professor but certainly not lower than a dean, the president replied: “I am sending you two assistant professors. There is nothing lower than a dean.”

Although several Colombians of varying prominence had suggested the possibility of an imminent Isthmian revolt, it seems that the events of and immediately after November 3, 1903, took most of their countrymen by surprise. Certainly there is no evidence of significant prior planning for such a contingency. The achievement of Panamanian independence was followed, in turn, by a Colombian failure to establish a consistent and coherent policy designed either to regain the lost province or to implement terms by which the loss could be made more acceptable. This is not to say that Colombians, officially and unofficially, did nothing in response to the Panamanian separatist movement. Yet what is impressive is not what happened, but what did not happen: There was no sustained military movement against the Isthmus, no break in diplomatic relations with the United States, no serious reprisals against Americans and Isthmians, or their property, in Colombia, and no vigorous protest against the incumbent Colombian political leadership. Panama was apparently not a major issue even during the Presidential campaign and election of 1904. The lack of preparation alluded to above was surely a factor in determining this limited response, but it was a small factor and offers, at best, an incomplete explanation. In fact, the mildness of the Colombian reaction was the product of the unique interaction of domestic and international, contemporary and historical conditions which this article seeks to illuminate.

Recognising the failure to assimilate the Trinidad Indians to Spanish culture, the king of Spain in 1686 asked the Capuchin Order to undertake a mission to Trinidad so that the “Indians may learn to live a quiet and civilized life.” Eight Capuchin priests under Fr. Thomas de Barcelona arrived in 1687 and founded four missions; two in Naparima, one in San Fernando, and one in Savana Grande. They built their villages following a uniform plan: “A perfect square is traced on the ground and all the Indian ajoupas are built on three sides, north, south, and west of the streets … the eastern side of the mission is taken up by the church, the mission house and other buildings for the use of the priests.”

The great economic and political changes in the Río de la Plata of the late 1700s penetrated not only Buenos Aires and the interior of present-day Argentina, but upriver the hitherto neglected province of Paraguay shared the reforms of the Intendant system and economic liberalization. Those changes, along with the expulsion of the Jesuits, produced a shift in the economy of this region from the Paraná-Tebicuary area to the northern frontier of that province. The impelling economic motive for that shift was the north's greater ability to meet the demand for Paraguay's primary export, yerba mate. By the 1780s, northern Paraguay experienced a greater exploitation of yerbales, both to the benefit of independent entrepreneurs and government revenues.

The Spanish political crisis of 1808 and the subsequent convening of the Cortes at Cádiz two years later helped crystallize certain political and philosophical concepts held by a number of “enlightened ”persons on both sides of the Atlantic. Their inherent faith in reason and progress made these delegates at Cádiz turn to a new instrument of government with confidence. In the end, however, strong vested interests thwarted the work of this liberal Cortes. This study examines the struggles, frustrations, triumphs, and failures of one influential and outspoken American in the Cortes at Cádiz, José Mejía Lequerica (1775-1813), who brought many ideas of the Enlightenment and of the French Constitution of 1791 to the new Spanish Constitution.

La evolución histórica de las teorías sobre libertad y servidumbre del indio americano, que sustentaron los teólogos y juristas españoles del siglo XVI y a las que se trató de ajustar las normas prácticas de la conquista, puede darse hoy por conocida en sus líneas fundamentales. Antes de finalizar el siglo XVI, había sido generalmente aceptado en el terreno doctrinal el derecho del indio a una vida libre, en consonancia con su dignidad humana. Se reconocía, en consecuencia, la radical ilicitud de imponer a los indios cualquier clase de servicio personal que llevase consigo alguna forma de esclavitud. Pero el problema era en la practica muy complejo y ello dio origen a varios y diversos proyectos de solución, encaminados a compaginar la exigencia cristiana de la libertad con las necesidades de tipo social y económico que presentaba la realidad americana de la época. Conocemos un buen número de estos dictámenes o pareceres, emitidos durante el siglo XVI por representantes, ya de las diversas corrientes doctrinales, ya de los intereses económicos creados. A ellos podemos añadir hoy el formulado en 1598 por franciscanos y agustinos de Lima sobre la condición social del indio en las regiones de Tucumán, Paraguay y Rio de la Plata.

One of the major obstacles preventing Argentine national unificacation in the 1870s was the hostility of the poor interior provinces, victims of the ravages of civil wars and economic stagnation, toward the richer and more powerful coastal area dominated by export-oriented merchants and cattlemen. From 1874 until the first decade of the twentieth century, a major attempt was made to resolve longstanding grievances. A definitive political compromise and program of economic integration emerged in 1880 when a group of politicians, representing both the interior and the littoral, joined together and made their slogan a reality: Peace and administration. This group, known as the Generation of Eighty, brought a national capital and a modicum of peace to Argentina in 1880. Eventually they helped create a new Argentina linked by networks of transportation, communication, banking facilities and other trappings of modernity. They courted regional industries with protective tariffs and political favors in hopes of providing an economic stimulus to the interior which would complement rapid growth in the littoral. But even though Buenos Aires and surrounding areas flourished, by the turn of the century most interior provinces remained as destitute as they had been thirty years earlier.

It is especially fitting that the Academy of American Franciscan History is being formally inaugurated this month, for in this same month of April, three hundred and thirty-five years ago, the Franciscan Commissary General of the Indies, by authority of the General of the Franciscan Order, instructed Fray Juan de Torquemada to prepare an official history of the Franciscan province of New Spain, the first to be published, in words that may well be repeated here. He wrote: “Considering how just and desirable it is that the memory of saintly men, who by their heroic deeds honored our Holy Religion, … be preserved for all time … :We are of the opinion that in our own times it is desirable to prepare chronicles that make known these deeds … And having investigated with special care the persons in this province of ours of talent, learning, virtue, and the other qualifications necessary for such an important and arduous undertaking, we have agreed that your reverence, who has all of these qualifications, be entrusted and charged … with bringing to light the many unknown facts of importance that are worthy of being recorded and known by everyone. And thus, by these presents, we request, and if necessary so order, that your reverence undertake to gather all of the reports and writings … that may be found, for the preparation of new chronicles of all the provinces, verifying anew the facts in each case, and inquiring into, or tracing and checking, the specific and general matters of importance … which in that and the other provinces of New Spain may be verified and written up, your reverence preparing all in good literary style and in historical form…

Bibliographies for the study of Brazilian history are either too brief, such as those in the appendices of general textbooks, or too long, such as the Manual Bibliográfico de Estudos Brasileiros. The present one aims to strike a happy medium and, by doing so, to provide a practical guide for the increasing number of students and of the general public in the United States who have an interest in learning more about the Brazilian past.

The selection of books for this bibliography has not been entirely arbitrary. Because it is intended primarily for North Americans, I chose liberally of the material available in English. Conversely, I was more exclusive in selecting works in other languages. Of the voluminous literature available in Portuguese, I sought to point out only the outstanding works—whether for quality of style, depth of research, originality, or at times, because they were the only examples of their kind in neglected aspects of Brazilian history. A few books of exceptional merit or interest in French and Spanish also were added. Doubtless I have included here some works which others may consider unworthy, to the exclusion of some they may consider indispensable. Still, I believe this bibliography will fulfill its primary purpose of indicating the basic material available to the student of Brazilian history.

During the period of the French intervention in Mexico (1862-1867), the United States Secretary of State, William H. Seward, pursued a policy which historians have aptly termed “ cautious moderation ” and “ masterly inactivity.” Caught between the fear of French recognition of the Confederacy, or even a French-Confederate alliance, and outright war with France, Seward steered a middle course. The French government was informed that the United States disapproved of intervention in Mexico and that a monarchy established by external force held no promise of permanency. But this was done in such a way as to avoid the active antagonism of France toward a Union plagued by civil war. Although at no time was the Monroe doctrine invoked prior to 1865, these mild but consistent protests paved the way for a firmer policy toward France.

In this text, motivated by the need to offer a different perspective to the representation of the Senado da Câmara (Municipal Council) in relation to the society that participated in Corpus Christi, I return to the study of the feast in the eighteenth century. The câmara was responsible for the spatial-temporal framework of the ritual in the diverse cities of Portuguese America, among other prerogatives and duties identified and analyzed by the historiography regarding this institution of the Ancien Regime. According to the câmara's minutes, the “Church, the Senate and the People (Povo)” would be present at the feast, thus establishing in the discourse a tripartite and corporative social order that does not identify the participants, whether individuals or the diverse “bodies” that comprised the Church or the people. And, of even greater importance, the câmara's discourse makes reference to the three bodies it claims to represent. However, it is known that if the camara symbolically evokes the respublica (commonwealth) through the organization and appearance at this royal feast, in political terms, the participation of elements that comprised the people in the Senado da Câmara, in other words, of the artisan crafts and skilled trades, was restricted to Bahia and Rio de Janeiro for a short period of time.

ABOUT twenty-five miles to the south of Madrid, lying among the soft rolling hills of the table-land of Castile and surrounded by lands weary of cultivation, lies Valdemoro, a small, picturesque village of only 3,000 inhabitants. Today its main riches lie in the exploiting of gypsum (yeso), and the material from which stucco is made (escayola), both of which are sent to Madrid to be sold. Cultivation of the land succeeds only in producing the bare necessities of life to maintain the sparse population, and does not afford sufficient occupation for the inhabitants. Many of the townsfolk are forced to seek their sustenance by working in the capital city or by emigration to other parts.

It is often assumed that the most creative aspect of Latin American thought, since independence, has been revolutionary. To a considerable degree this is true, as this author has himself pointed out in previous writings. But Latin America has also felt the impact of a different stream of creative thought, Spanish in origin to a considerable degree, though not completely so—the stream of Hispanic and Christian traditionalism. But this traditionalism is a mixed current. Thus, Pablo González Casanova of Mexico has shown that while reactionary forces often opposed it, “modern” Christian thought in Spain and New Spain was absorbing the new philosophy and science of the eighteenth century. Alberto Caturelli and Enrique Zuleta Álvarez. of Argentina, in somewhat different ways, have pointed out a mixture of Christian traditionalism with liberal streams of thought in that country. Moisés González Navarro of Mexico found in the historian-statesman, Lucas Alamán, a mixture of Christian traditionalism and economic liberalism. Carlos Valderrama Andrade of Colombia has found that traditionalists such as Miguel Antonio Caro (1843-1909), and his father before him, mixed with the conservative elements of traditionalist thought progressive elements not unlike those of modern Christian democracy.