Today we come home to New Mexico, where turquoise is the state stone, and where it is an iconic symbol, possessed of an intrinsic association with the state.
Turquoise has been mined in New Mexico since time immemorial, and, indeed, it was the area’s indigenous population that made the Skystone an integral part of the identity of the land that would eventually come to be called “New Mexico.” Our peoples here have long used the stone for practical, artistic, and ceremonial purposes, and turquoise figures prominently in some of the origin stories of the various tribes in the area. So, too, do ancient stories of turquoise mountains, which perhaps explains the persistence in naming mines “Turquoise Mountain,” since we have mines with such names in at least three states.
The usual caveats apply again today: Genuine New Mexico turquoise is now less readily obtained (and less inexpensively, with regard to old stone). We do not currently have any in Wings’s inventory of stones that we can say unequivocally to have come from New Mexico mines. I’ve included a couple of photos of old stones that are possible examples, and that do reflect the color and patterning one would expect to find in turquoise from some of the mines here, but they are for illustrative purposes only; we cannot say definitively that they are from these mines. Ironically, a few years ago, Wings bought some jewelry pieces, an instance of selling off pieces of a person’s private collection for some needed cash. The seller assured him that the oddly-shaped cabochon in the bolo tie was in fact Cerrillos turquoise, the old variety, which seemed unlikely. Taken out of the setting, it proved to be nothing more than stabilized (and possibly dyed) Kingman. The stone, needless to say, never found its way into any sort of new piece.
I am extremely ill today, and so I’m going to get straight to the mines, with relatively little in the way of additional background or ancillary stories.
CERRILLOS
Cerrillos is, as is common in other states, less a single mine that a mining district. It sits just a little south of Santa Fe, in the area now known as Madrid (pronounced MADD-drihd, not given the proper Spanish pronunciation). Most people pronounce the district’s name Ser-REE-yos, just as they do with the major road of the same name in Santa Fe, but it’s a Spanish word and properly pronounced SAIR-ee-yos, with the accent on the first syllable. Its turquoise deposits were mined fir centuries by the people of the area pueblos, long before the first European ever contemplated that there might actually be a world on this side of the Atlantic.
In more contemporary times, though, the Cerrillos district was also one of the earliest producers of high-grade turquoise, and also the most prized. In the early part of the 20th century, it was regarded by the dominant culture as perhaps the most desirable turquoise in existence. It was given the name “Tiffany Turquoise,” a nod both to its sky-blue color like that of the packaging used by the iconic New York jeweler of the same name, and to the aura of elegance and sophistication associated with that name.
As noted above, early Cerrillos turquoise was a clear, beautiful shade of sky blue. A hard, solid stone, it was especially suited to Indian jewelry and became known as one of the most desirable stones for buyers and collectors of the day. Some of it tended toward a bit of a greenish cast, but most was blue; the stones ranged from little to know matrix to bolder lines and and rivulets of webbing.
Today, the stone is still being mined, notably, at the Little Chalchihuitl Mine. It’s a very different stone from classic Cerrillos/Tiffany turquoise, however. Mostly green, shades ranging from a dark jade color to pale seafoam, it’s swirled with white with a flecked matrix in gray and black. In color and appearance, it most resembles some of the Nevada variscites. It’s also an odd choice of name, allegedly Nahua for “emerald” or “jade”; since the primary Nahua association with New Mexico occurs in the story of La Malinche (and one particular Spanish-language vulgarity), it leaves one to wonder why the name was not more reflective of the region’s actual indigenous tradition (or from something else entirely).
Old blue Cerrillos (or Tiffany) turquoise can still be found, but it’s rare that jewelers and collectors are willing to aprt with it. I’ve seen one cabochon (sold immediately) advertised at $5 per carat, but I suspect it was of newer vintage; on the rare occasion that the old “Tiffany” stone can be found for sale, it’s relatively expensive. It’s also a collector’s item now, so if you come into possession of a piece that definitively contains old Cerrillos turquoise, hang onto it.
ENCHANTMENT
The Lost Mine of enchantment (also known simply as the Enchantment Mine) is relatively new, staked in 1996. It sits in the Ruidoso area of Lincoln County in the south-central part of the state, near the Mescalero Apache lands and the state’s second-highest mountain peak, Sierra Blanca. The name is Spanish for, literally, “White Saw,” but sierra is used inn Spanish in another sense to refer to ranges of mountain peaks, which do indeed resemble a saw blade. Colloquially, peak’s name translates as “White Mountain,” which is apparently the English version of the Mescalero Apache name for the place, which, despite the presence in recent decades of ski lifts and tourists atop the peak, is part of their sacred lands. The mine name itself, of course, is taken from the state’s own slogan, “Land of Enchantment.”
I have seen very little written about the turquoise the Enchantment Mine produces. it is reportedly of good quality, tending mostly toward greens but with an occasional bit of blue stone produced, as well. The matrices are reportedly mostly shades of golden-brown, which makes it sound similar to Nevada’s Royston turquoise. I have no information on pricing; it is apparently a sufficiently limited supply that very little makes it onto the general market in cabochon form.
HACHITA
The Hachita Mine is found in the far southwestern reaches of the state, in the old silver mining district around Silver City in Grant County. It’s named for the nearby Hachita Mountain Range. The word itself is Spanish for “Little Hatchet,” a reference to the jagged, blade-like peaks.
Early Hachita turquoise ran a decently-broad gamut of colors and matrices, from sky blue to a greener shade. Today, most of it appears to be on the greener end of the spectrum, from teal to a light seafoam color. It also appears today to have relatively little matrix in the usual sense; instead of spiderwebbing or older inclusions of matrix, it often appears to have a swirled effect, differing shades of the stone’s own color ebbing and flowing in whorls and other patterns across the surface.
HIGH LONESOME
The High Lonesome Mine is now closed; whether it is simply defunct or genuinely tapped out is an open question. It is likewise located in the Hachita Mining District, and was reportedly held by one owner over a period of some three decades.
Like much old New Mexico turquoise, little seems to be in circulation on the market. I have never seen an actual High Lonesome stone, at least not labeled accordingly. What little information I can find indicates that the stone itself was, again, largely green but with some blue produced, as well. Because of the lack of market data, I could only guess at the price, and probably with little accuracy; much depends on whether the vein is tapped out or merely abandoned.
SANTA RITA
Santa Rita is another now-defunct mine from the southwestern part of the state, this one, in the Tyrone District (covered immediately below).
As with High Lonesome turquoise, little sees to be available on the market, and, again, I have yet to see an actual stone that is definitively from the Santa Rita Mine. Reportedly, the stone produced ran a spectrum of light to medium blues and greens, and was fairly hard, making it good for use in Indian jewelry. I have estimates as to current price, simply because of the difficulty of finding saleable stones for comparison where the provenance is established.
TYRONE
The Tyrone Mine is located not far from the Hachita Mine, in Grant County. It is tapped out, insofar as turquoise is no longer being mined at that location, but that doesn’t mean there is no more turquoise there. It’s actually sad to see what has happened to the area in the last 30 to 35 years.
Phelps Dodge Corporation still operates copper mines at the Tyrone site, as it has for decades. Unfortunately, it’s reported that in the early 1980s, the company switched its copper processing operations over to a much cheaper method, involving acid washing of the rock, which reportedly destroys the gemstone in the deposits. In essence, not only is no turquoise being mined, but it is being overtly ruined beyond reclamation, preventing anyone else from salvaging it. That’s a shame, because Tyrone was a beautiful turquoise, hard and stable, manifesting in deep shades of blue and green and particularly teal.Tyrone turquoise has long been darker in color than much other turquoise, often appearing in a teal shade at about the half-way point between blue and green on the spectrum. Like a lot of New Mexico turquoise, it tends not to display much in the way of matrix; what does appear often looks black in natural light. Because it has been off the market for so long, except in those instances where collectors or jewelers decide to release their own holdings, it’s difficult to determine actual value. The scarcity of course raises the price, but so, too, does the knowledge that no more will be forthcoming from the Grant County earth. I’ve seen cabochons priced in both single and double digits per carat. It’s a stone that is valuable both for its inherent quality and for its current rarity, so it’s another to keep if you’re lucky enough to come into possession of some.
Next week: A little from California and Old Mexico.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2016; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owners.
