#puaray is my roman empire leave me alone

[mitsdriveswhere]

The Seven Cities of Gold

I've always been a little fascinated in how myths affect myths and one great example of this is the Seven Cities of Gold. This, primarily, is considered one of the oldest European-American myths, one created by Spanish colonists and invaders.

The Seven Cities of Gold, or the Seven Cities of Cíbola, was a Spanish myth of indigenous cities built of or filled with gold, around the beginning of the sixteenth century. They are most closely associated with the 1540 entrada headed by Vasquez de Coronado into primarily modern day Arizona and New Mexico. The origin of this myth, however, is a bit confusing, for a couple reasons.

There are no Seven Cities of Gold

Which Seven Cities has never actually been solidified

This myth seems to predate European knowledge of the Ancestral Puebloan cities in New Mexico for which they are named (Cíbola being one of the first terms Europeans used to describe Zuni)

Which gets into the reason as to why such a myth exists. Fundamentally, (in my opinion) there are two factors that resulted in the creation of the myth of the Seven Cities of Gold: the economics of slavery and abolitionism, and the age old equivalent of the game Telephone.

The economics and history of slavery at this time, I think is fairly well understood, but I digress: Spain colonized Mexico and every other part of the Americas they could reach for imperial advantage. Spain needed money to fund its Inquisition (yes that one), and to rebuild after the Reconquista. As imperial powers do, they needed a source of income, preferably with unpaid labor. The Americas provided both of these, especially in Southern Mexico, where the Aztecs, already quite adept at mining and refining gold, had populous cities and traversable infrastructure. The Incas, like the Aztecs, also indicated to Spain that the Americas were filled with the riches they desired (people they could enslave, and precious metals - especially gold and silver).

Abolitionism on the other hand, especially in the early 1500s, is something I don't really hear so much about, even though it was a strong political force at the time. Granted, not abolitionism in the way we think of it today - let's not pretend that democracy was even on the horizon. But at the very least, Spain was at the forefront of a political movement away from the equivalent of chattel slavery - a shift the US would not catch onto for another three hundred years. The human rights violations of Spain's early conquistadors (and yes, the people of that time also thought of it that way) were abhorrent both politically and - worse for Spain - economically. Surprising to no one, someone willing to commit the worst acts imaginable on another human being is not all that willing to then go along with society's basic functions of decency. If you can name an early conquistador, I can name exactly how they fell from grace, were convicted, exiled, or yes - even murdered. It's all of them. So, Spain had a human rights movement, which manifested in several "protectionary" laws for the indigenous - especially the Laws of Burgos and the Ordinances of Discovery (I use quotations because, again, Europeans were still doggedly racist, and these laws reflected this). Some of these laws were so humanitarian in nature, Spanish colonists revolted in some areas because of how many rights were being granted to the indigenous (truly, please read about Pizarro's assassination, it's magnificent, and contextually relevant).

One actor in this movement, of course, was the first viceroy of New Spain, Antonio de Mendoza. Mendoza, while politically very shrewd, was in favor of these humanitarian movements. He would not have agreed to breech the northern border of his colony - was was then Central/Northern Mexico - only to conquer, like those before him. That position of his changed only after a survivor of a once-thought-to-be-very-very-very-dead entrada from ten years prior wandered out of Northern Mexico and back into Spanish occupied lands - Cabeza de Vaca. De Vaca spoke of cities he had been told about that were encrusted with jewels. This, Mendoza would move for, so he sent a scouting party, the survivors of said party returned to say they had also been told stories of cities of gold. Somewhere along the way, this report was twisted to say that the scouting party had actually seen cities of gold - specifically the city Cíbola (Zuni). Gold moved Spanish action, this is a constant through history. So Mendoza began preparing the first entrada of his office - the entrada of Coronado. From there, it's history (Coronado was also a fail-son like every conquistador before and after him. Look it up, he's cringe.).

But, where the fuck did the myth of Seven Cities come from? The scouting party saw one (1), and it was from a distance. This is where we get into the equivalent of the game of Telephone, aka how information was disseminated for nearly humanity's entire existence until the Phoenicians.

Humans, oddly enough, have a penchant for the number 7. We just really like it, for whatever reason. Lots and lots of legends and myths involve the number 7, but the two specially that likely influenced the myth of the Seven Cities come from two backgrounds - the Seven Caves of Chicomoztoc, and the Seven Cities of Antillia. Fascinatingly, two completely separate myths that evolved entirely independently of each other. The Seven Caves is a Nahua (Aztec) myth, about the origin of the Nahua themselves. Like many other Central American and American Southwestern peoples, the Nahua origin myth tells of the people emerging from the underground, specially from seven caves in this instance. It's an absolutely beautiful reminder just how well humans are able to keep our history even without writing it down. Unfortunately, the Spanish heard this myth, and thought 'Oh, how great would it be if we could find these caves, and loot them.' After all, the great Aztec cities they'd looted so far yielded a lot of gold. So, already, Spanish colonizers were primed with the desire to search for yet-to-be-discovered hordes of gold.

The second myth is of European origin, before the Americas were ever sailed to. The myth of the "lost" island of Antillia, or the Seven Cities of Antillia, revolved around a phantom island, of all things. Phantom islands are islands that do not exist, but were created through mapping errors when maps were made by hand by some guy going "yeah that looks about right". Maps were collaborative, so if some guy put down on the portion of the sea that he'd mapped that there's an island there, the next person over would also put it down, because how is he to know that the first guy was wrong. Phantom islands were chronic in early seafaring, because people also have a penchant for, scientifically speaking, making shit up. (See early maps of the gulf of Mexico, it does wonders for imposter syndrome. They were legit just making shit up.) The phantom island of Antillia was an island once incorrectly drawn off the coast of the Iberian Peninsula, long before 1492, and was said to be the hiding place of several prominent members of the Catholic Church - with highly desirable land and lots and lots of money. It was this myth that already existed in the mind space of Spanish citizens, once again priming them for the rumors told of Cíbola.

There have of course been speculations of what the Seven Cities might actually be, or at the very least, the remaining six, but it remains a fact that there were no cities of gold. No matter how much National Treasure 2 wants us to think it's in some god forsaken place like South Dakota.