A journey to the belly of the Earth finds a remark
Alexander R. Shepherd put Batopilas on the map. In 1880, after leaving Washington, D.C. as its last governor, Shepherd moved to Batopilas and took over silver mines that had been in operation for more than one hundred and fifty years. The mines were no longer profitable because the ore held less silver than previously and, therefore, it was not economically viable to load it on mules and pack it out of Batopilas Canyon – a five day trip. But Shepherd was a man of vision. Between 1880 and 1906, he extracted 20 million ounces of silver (625 tons) from the Batopilas mines, making his mines among the richest silver mines in the world.
Shepherd made the mines wildly profitable by building an aqueduct up-river from Batopilas and using water-power to generate electricity and operate a mill. He then shipped bars of silver bullion out of the canyons via pack-mules. Each bar weighed sixty-six pounds, each mule carried two bars – meaning that approximately 9,500 mule loads of silver bars were transported out of Batopilas in a twenty-six year period. During that era, the mines employed about 1,500 men, and hand-dug tunnels exceeded seventy miles in length.
Hacienda San Miguel
As extraordinary as were Shepherd’s mining successes, he must also receive credit for bringing his wife and seven children to Batopilas – via muleback. For them, he built a magnificent two-story home, office, and administration center named Hacienda San Miguel. The children grew to adulthood at Batopilas. One son, Grant Shepherd, wrote a book about his and his family’s life at Batopilas. Printed in 1938, The Silver Magnet can still be found in many university libraries, as well as other notable libraries.
Now, more than a hundred years after Shepherd’s heyday, the dam on the Batopilas River still diverts water into the aqueduct that carries it to town where it furnishes both house-water and electrical current, by way of turbines.
My third day in Batopilas I hiked four miles downstream to look at what has been described as a mysterious Lost Cathedral. Formally named Ángel de la Guardia Satevó (not to be confused with the old Jesuit pueblo of San Francisco Xavier Satevó, south of Ciudad Chihuahua), the church is not, by Catholic standards, a cathedral (so I have been informed). But it is of cathedral proportions, and it is mysterious.
The Lost Cathedral at Satevó
Constructed of puce-baked bricks, with a stark-white smoothly plastered front, a 60-foot three-tiered belltower, and a multi-domed top, the Satevó church dwarfs everything within its sphere of jurisdiction. Its majestic proportions and intricate handmade beauty make a statement of solidity in the midst of wilderness.
Who designed the church? Who built the church? When was it built? No one has answers to those questions. Whatever records were kept, and some were certainly written, have mostly been lost or destroyed. It is known that Satevó was a doctrinal cabercera (Jesuit teaching headquarters for local Native Americans) during 1726-1748. Later, after the Jesuits were expelled from the New World, the Franciscan order assumed control of Satevó. Sometime later the church was abandoned and fell into disrepair. Only recently have restoration efforts begun to return the building to its original splendor.
The Jesuits surely used Tarahumara (Native American) converts to build the church, possibly in the late 1600’s, but more probably early in the next century. Regardless, the magical building is approaching – or has surpassed – 300 years of age.
I am not Catholic, and I am not especially intrigued by architecture. But the instant I saw the Satevó church, set above the Batopilas River, hemmed in by brown mountains, and with green mesquite trees surrounding it, my spirits soared and, paradoxically, a calmness overtook me. Why? Maybe that is part of the Satevó mystique.
Along with the church, Satevó contains a sprinkling of permanent residents. Possibly fifteen adobe homes are within a few hundred yards of the church. There are two small stores. One has a propane refrigerator containing cold sodas. That store also has electric lights, powered by a portable Honda generator. Other than the store, I saw no other evidence of electricity in the village.
A graded road has recently been constructed from Batopilas to Satevó. If you have an automobile, you can drive to the church. I preferred to walk. It took me an hour and fifteen minutes. It is an easy, peaceful hike.
Read all three parts of Into the Belly
Part One
Part Two
Part Three