The San Saba Mission Massacre, 1765 - Limited Edition Fine Art Print

The Lost San Saba Mine, Apaches, Comanches, a beheaded Spanish priest, an art/drug caper - lore, fact, and propaganda all collide in the earliest Texas history painting.  

Where there was a mission, there was a presidio built to guard it. Near present-day Menard are the ruins of Presidio San Saba. Once upon a time (and for a very limited time) there was a mission across the river. Spain was keen on the idea of silver deposits in the vicinity and the Franciscans were keen on saving Apache souls.

Apaches, seeking shelter from their Comanche foes, intermittently checked in at Mission Santa Cruz de San Saba. Two priests and a handful of missionary families were the permanent residents. The Comanches found the presence of the mission and presidio odious. They intended to evict everyone who dwelled there in true Comanche fashion. 

In mid-March 1758, one year after Mission San Saba was established, 2,000 Comanche and Tonkawa warriors sacked the place. One priest was beheaded; the other was shot and run through with a lance and impaled on his own walking stick. Six others were killed. The livestock were slaughtered and the holy accoutrements destroyed. Then the whole thing was burned, giving San Saba the distinction of being the only mission in Texas to be wholly destroyed by Indians.

Survivors fled to the presidio, so there were eyewitnesses who lived to tell the tale. A cousin of one of the slain priests (Father Terreros) commissioned a painting to memorialize the horrific event. The painting would also serve as visual proof to the Spanish crown of the valiant service of the Franciscans in the New World.  

That visual proof, attributed to prolific Mexican painter José de Páez and completed around 1765, was an impressive display, indeed. Measuring nearly 7'x10', the mural-size oil painting depicted a complex scene set in the heart of Texas. 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words and was doubly true before photography. To explain the event via brushstrokes to a king across the ocean, critical points in the scene are labeled and the key was painted across the bottom.

The two dying priests loom large and allegorical in the foreground overlooking the chaos: one in prayer though pierced with bullets, the other half-beheaded but clutching a crucifix and Bible. In the distance at top left, the presidio and its garrison are seen. A soldier who was lanced then burned to death is depicted within the walls of the mission. Missionaries fire at the Comanches from the windows of one of the huts. Flames begin to lick the huts at the back of the compound.

In the painting's bullseye is the imagery intended to drive home the message of the commissioned art piece: the Comanches destroying the banner of the Virgin. 

The mission was never rebuilt but it lived in on the peculiar life of the massive painting. It stayed in the Terreros family for more than two centuries. In the late 1970s, it made its way to an art dealer in Mexico who sold it to another dealer, who sent it to Spain. No export papers were filed. It was shopped around in Europe and the U.S., eventually selling to a New York dealer. Again, sans customs paperwork. 

Collectors were spooked by it for most of the 1980s precisely because of the lack of a paper trail. Finally, the noted Texana auctioneer, Dorothy Sloan, was approached to find a buyer. She took the matter to the State of Texas, hoping they'd buy it and sort out the export issues. When Mexican officials caught wind of the news that the massive painting had left the country, they contacted U. S. Customs. 

Customs initiated a multi-year undercover investigation, trying to sort out how the painting had dodged customs in several countries. They were hot on the trail of a Mexican art/artifact/drug ring when Mexico formally demanded the painting's return. Dorothy Sloan, who held onto the painting during the investigation, soon found U. S. Customs officials at her door. 

There was drama and a trial. And because this is a Texas story, the drama wasn't just between Texas and Mexico. The Tribal Council of the Tonkawas sent a letter to U. S. Customs claiming it as their artifact, stating that it was more important to their cultural heritage than that of Mexico. 

In the end, Dorothy was paid for her time and legal fees with money seized from the art/drug ring. As part of the trial agreement, the painting was on display at the Museum of Fine Art in Houston from 1990-92, after which it was escorted by U. S. authorities to Mexico City. 

To the best of my knowledge, it has never been reproduced until now. Instead of 7x10 feet, it can hang in your home at a manageable 18x24 inches. I placed an English translation of the Spanish narrative down below and the key in the side margins. You get all the details of the first painting of a Texas scene and no Customs inspectors kicking down your door.

The Physical Details

• 24x18" (fits in a standard size frame)
• An early Texas story told in striking imagery
• Limited Edition of 254 hand-numbered copies