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To The Pueblo



I left off last time with a description of some of the history of Taos Pueblo. Now we are actually getting there.


As I said a while back, we drove to the Pueblo and parked. I’ll post a few pictures here of the place itself. That may be easier than my attempting to put it all into words. But, briefly, when you enter the complex, you see multiple buildings, many made of adobe and/or straw and mud, with hints of wood and stone here and there. There are two major structures -- the North House (“Hlauuma”) and the South House (“Hlaukwima”).(1) They are each tall, heavy, multi-story structures with flat roofs and rectangular windows.




About the photos: A bunch today. First, I believe this is Hlauuma, the North House, though I must confess, I got a little confused when I got there. Directions were never my strong suit. Next, I believe this is Hlaukwima, the South House. Next, the ruins of the first church in the Pueblo. This is the one destroyed by American cannon fire. Next, this is the current church at the Pueblo.


And, finally, nothing to do with the story, but here’s Martha at lunch last week here in Georgetown.




The North House is the larger, but they are both quite impressive and have been inhabited for centuries. They may have been constructed as early as 1000 CE. They are beautiful in their way. According to Wikipedia, the North House “is said to be one of the most photographed and painted buildings in North America.”(2)


The Pueblo is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, which is a wonderful thing, at least it is IMHO. Though it isn’t without some controversy. In July of 2025, The Trump Administration withdrew the United States from UNESCO. The reason given was UNESCO’s alleged anti-Israel bias and its support of “woke” causes. Though how Taos Pueblo could be considered anti-Israel, or Woke, I haven’t a clue. I just hope that it doesn’t result in any lack of protections for the Pueblo itself.


Anyway, we parked and found an office where we could purchase admission tickets and sign up for a guided tour. We joined a decent-sized crowd of fellow tourists and shortly thereafter our guide appeared. This was a pleasant youngish gentleman who told us his first name was the very Indian “Hawk.” His last name, however, was Irish. He joked that his background was thus appropriately complicated.


He gave us a brief on the origins and history of the Pueblo, then he led us to the present Catholic church and we were able to see inside. It was a small church but really quite impressive. Hawk told us that many Taos people maintain close connections with the church. He, however, was not one of them. He did not specify his own spiritual practice, but, perhaps he followed the traditional Kiva religion. I knew better than to ask for clarification. That’s a very private matter and most Pueblo people will resent (or at least refuse to answer) your questions about it.


Then he took us to another church and graveyard. The church is a ruin, now. It is a great, sad, picturesque, mud brick tower, reared up against the sky, and surrounded by the white crosses of the dead. This is what is left of San Geronimo de Taos, which was built here after Popé’s rebellion. Apparently, it was both a place of worship and something of a fortress. Comanche and Apache raids were frequent, and the Church was a place of refuge.


It was destroyed in yet another Pueblo Revolt, this one in 1847. By then, the territory had been newly transferred to the United States. The Pueblo and Hispanic people in the town of Taos rebelled against the new Anglo-dominated government, killing the new Governor, Charles Bent, and a number of other Americans. (3)


The U.S. Army retaliated. Pueblo and other local people retreated into the Church, but in the end it did not save them. The Army destroyed the church and killed at least 150 of the people inside it.


The present church, though, was built “sometime” after that. I gather that no one is quite sure when, and it has been rebuilt several times. There are photos of it dating from around 1885, at which time it looked very different. In fact, it looked Gothic or maybe French Romanesque--which actually makes sense. This was the time when the New Mexican church was under the rule of Archbishop Jean-Baptiste Lamy, who was a Frenchman with a great taste for French architecture. For the literati among us, this is the same Lamy who was the subject of Willa Cather's classic novel “Death Comes for the Archbishop,” and who is controversial to this day.(4)


Then Hawk led us to the river which sort of bisects the Pueblo. I say “river,” and it is one by New Mexican standards, but to many coastal folks it would be just a creek. Still, it was what made agriculture and thus life possible here, and the Taos people respect it accordingly.


Hawk then completed the tour with a short but useful lecture on other aspects of the Pueblo’s history and culture. Among other things, he mentioned Popé, and how more and more young people (like himself) are getting involved with Pueblo government. Traditionally, he said, Taos has been ruled by elders, but that’s changed.


Everyone applauded. I tried to tip him, but he slipped away, and we were left to roam on our own.


And, shortly thereafter, we’d do something very new.


For the first time, but assuredly not the last, we would purchase a Native American bracelet...


...for our granddaughter.


More to come.





Footnotes:



2. “Taos Pueblo,” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taos_Pueblo#


3. See “The San Jerónimo Mission,” New Mexico Nomad, https://newmexiconomad.com/san-jeronimo-mission/


4. I don’t know enough about Lamy to make a judgement. However, I will mention that he is viewed as either a great reformer who took a lethargic and tradition-bound New Mexican church and turned it into a modern Catholic institution...OR as a bigot who detested Hispanic and Native American spiritual practices and tried to stamp them out while replacing Spanish-speaking priests with French ones everywhere he could. So...pick one. Your choice.



Copyright©2026 Michael Jay Tucker



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~mjt


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Walking To Wimberley

Welcome to Wimberley, Texas—where the cypress trees lean over lazy rivers, the cowboy boots are ten feet tall (and painted like rainbows), and the coffee shops echo with guitars and gossip.

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In Walking to Wimberley, Michael Jay Tucker invites you to join him on a meandering, thoughtful, and often hilarious journey through one of Texas’s most charming Hill Country towns. Based on his popular blog entries, this collection of travel essays explores Wimberley’s art, history, music, and mystery—with the dry wit of a seasoned traveler and the wide-eyed wonder of a first-time visitor.

 

Whether he’s hunting for the perfect taco, pondering the existential meaning of oversized footwear, or just trying to find parking on market day, Tucker brings Wimberley to life with style, warmth, and just a hint of mischief.

Come for the scenery. Stay for the stories. Bring your boots.

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