The History Of Eulogio Rosado Park and Its Controversial Monument

In downtown Mérida, across from the Mercado Lucas de Gálvez, the city’s largest market, lies a small, shaded park called Eulogio Rosado, but known to most locals as El Parque de los Borrachos, or “The Drunks’ Park.” 

For generations, this unsavory reputation has stubbornly persisted. But behind this everyday moniker lies a far older and more complex story, rooted in one of Yucatán’s most painful conflicts, the Caste War.

The Monument at the Heart of the Park

Eulogio Rosado Park was inaugurated on January 6, 1884. At its center stands a statue of the Roman goddess of Victory and War, Minerva. The statue’s pedestal carries the inscription, A los Héroes de la Guerra de Castas, or “To the Heroes of the Caste War.”  Given the statue’s imagery and historical context, it is clear which set of heroes the monument is dedicated to — it’s certainly not the Mayan ones. 

Oddly enough, this monument has not galvanized opinion among locals in any meaningful way, especially when compared to the monument to the Montejo at Remate, since its value flies in the face of modern sensibilities in such a blatant way. Perhaps it has to do with its size, location, or the fact that it has been there for so long.

The Caste War and the Making of a “Hero”

The park’s namesake, Colonel José Eulogio Rosado, was forged in the fire of the Guerra de Castas, or Caste War. This devastating social conflict erupted in 1847 when the Maya rose against centuries of oppression, first under colonial rule and then under their successors after Mexican independence. The war would rage for decades, defining a generation.

When the first whispers of rebellion surfaced in towns like Chichimilá in 1847, Colonel Rosado was the political and military chief of the Valladolid department. Acting on this intelligence, he moved swiftly and arrested the accused leader, Manuel Antonio Ay. Ay was executed in Valladolid’s main square, and his body was reportedly displayed in his home village as a brutal warning. 

From that moment, Eulogio Rosado dedicated himself to combating the Maya rebellion, becoming one of the government’s key military figures in the grueling conflict. His actions made him a hero in the eyes of the ruling class. In 1869, after the war, the Yucatán State Congress formally recognized this service, declaring Rosado and several others as honored “benefactors of the state” for their roles in the Caste War.

Historians in Yucatán often find this choice curious. While the original idea was to honor all the government heroes of the Caste War, Rosado was not the most obvious candidate. Other figures, such as General Sebastián López de Llergo, held higher rank and had a longer, more distinguished career. 

The deciding factor was not necessarily merit, but immediate political convenience. At that precise moment, the governor of Yucatán was General Octavio Rosado, the colonel’s son. Governor Rosado was a politically stable choice for the national regime because, though Yucatecan, he had been absent from the peninsula for 30 years and had no ties to local factions.

Seeing an opportunity, Mérida’s city council made a shrewd move. By naming the new park after the governor’s father, they could curry favor with the new administration. The tribute cost the city little, as the merchants were funding the renovation. The park, therefore, became less a pure memorial to war heroes and more a strategic gift to power.

From Military Ground to Public Neglect

Long before the Eulogio Rosado park, the land was part of the Campaña de San Benito, a military citadel anchored by the San Benito Citadel, built in 1669. Very little, other than a wall, remains of the San Benito military fortification.

In the late 18th century, Governor Lucas de Gálvez transformed part of these grounds into “La Alameda,” a fashionable tree-lined promenade. For a time, it featured statues and ornate arches built by wealthy citizens. But by the last quarter of the 1800s, the area had fallen into severe decline. A local magazine in 1875 did not mince words, describing it as a “disgusting dumping ground.” It was a neglected space, officially designated for hat and shoe vendors, but largely forgotten.

The Monument, Park, and a Lasting Legacy

For years, the revitalized park became a bustling hub for merchants from the interior selling leather goods, trunks, and hammocks under its old arches, with the iconic cantina “El Rincón” at its edge. It survived a major fire in 1921 and witnessed urban changes, like the opening of a new commercial passageway in the mid-20th century.

Today, over 142 years after its opening, and long after the end of the Caste War, Eulogio Rosado Park stands as a physical document of history. It honors the white so-called heroes of a war during which much innocent blood was spilled in the name of the forging of a new nation and the destruction of another. Nevertheless, the park’s preservation is a testament to a past that should not be forgotten. Yet, its story raises a poignant question. If this space has been altered over the decades for commercial interests or political whims, could it not also be thoughtfully reconsidered to tell a more complete story? 

It is fair to ask whether a monument honoring the memory and resistance of the Maya people during that same Caste War might find a place in the heart of the city, creating a dialogue in stone that reflects the complex truth of Yucatán’s history. With information from Mérida en la Historia