Intimacy and Empire: Indian-African interaction in Spanish Colonial New Mexico, 1500-1800.
In 1539, Esteban de Dorantes of Azamor, an enslaved Black Moor, ventured into Pueblo Indian territory in the vanguard of Fray Marcos de Niza's expedition to the unexplored north. Esteban had traveled in the northern reaches of New Spain before--he, along with three Spaniards including the famed Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca, had survived Panfilo de Narvaez's disastrous attempt to colonize Florida. Cabeza de Vaca's tales of the group's eight years of wanderings through present-day Texas and northern Mexico piqued Spanish interest in the "Northern Mystery." Although the survivors repeatedly claimed to have seen no signs of exploitable wealth in the north, New Spain's viceroy, Antonio Mendoza, and others hoping to find an "otro Mexico" planned an expedition. Cabeza de Vaca, however, refused to return to the north, and Mexican officials could not allow a slave to lead this expedition. Hence, Viceroy Mendoza purchased Esteban and selected Franciscan Fray Marcos de Niza to head the journey northward, to be accompanied by Esteban.
Ranging several days ahead of Fray Marcos with a group of Christianized Pimas (who had followed Cabeza de Vaca to Mexico) and Mexican Indians (Tlaxcalans), Esteban reached the Zuni settlement of Hawikuh. He was the first non-Native to visit Pueblo lands, an event made more significant by his African, rather than European, heritage. During his travels north to Zuni, Indians had treated Esteban as a "black god," regaling him with gifts of turquoise and women. Although no one knows for sure what transpired when Esteban entered Hawikuh, legend has it that his arrogance led him to expect similar privileges and to make demands for gifts and women. This angered the Zunis, who killed him. Another twist to the legend involves a gourd rattle Esteban carried as part of his "black god" persona. The gourd rattle offended the Zunis, thereby leading to the slave's death. Additionally, some scholars have postulated that Esteban interrupted Zuni ceremonials, thereby angering them to the point of murder.(1)
Zuni oral tradition corroborates the tale of Esteban's demise related in Spanish documents. While living at Zuni during the late nineteenth century, Smithsonian ethnologist Frank Hamilton Cushing heard stories of a murdered Black Mexican. In a lecture given to the American Geographical Society in 1885, Cushing admitted that when he first heard the "Zuni legend of the Black Mexican with the thick lips," he had no knowledge of Fray Marcos de Niza's 1539 northern expedition. Cushing described the story to archaeologist Adolph Bandelier, who matched it to events described in Spanish documents. In Bandelier's account of the events in Hawikuh, "The Zunis definitely informed Mr. Cushing, after he had become ... adept by initiation into the esoteric fraternity of warriors, that a `black Mexican' had once come to O'aquima [Hawikuh] and had been hospitably received there. He, however, very soon incurred mortal hatred by his rude behavior toward the women and girls of the pueblo, on account of which the men at last killed him."(2) Hence, both Zuni oral tradition and Spanish written documents recorded the ill-fated encounter between Native Americans and the advance guard of the Spanish conquerors. As Bandelier noted, "A short time after that the first white Mexicans, as the Indians call all white men whose mother-tongue is Spanish, came to the country and overcame the natives in war."(3)
What transpired at Hawikuh between the Zunis and Esteban resulted in a black kachina known as Chakwaina, or monster kachina, throughout the Pueblo world (fig. 1).(4) Esteban served as a harbinger of the Spanish conquest, which permanently altered Pueblo life. Thus, Chakwaina kachina emerged as a tangible symbol of Pueblo interpretations of the Spanish conquest. According to anthropologist Frederick Dockstader, legendary accounts attribute the impetus for Chakwaina to Esteban. Dockstader notes that, "The appearance of this kachina and the fact that Chakwaina is known in all the pueblos as a horrible ogre, support this legend. Esteban would be remembered because of the color of his skin, because he was the first non-Indian seen in Cibola, and because of the circumstances surrounding his fate."(5) Anthropologist E. Charles Adams argued that in modern western Pueblo societies, kachinas in the form of ogres and whippers fill the role of disciplinarians and overseers of communal work groups.(6) As the impetus for the ogre kachina Chakwaina, Esteban lives on, reminding of changes wrought in the Pueblo world by the aggressive presence of White and Black outsiders. Although they effectively defused the threat posed by Esteban, the Zunis could not so easily evade the Spaniards who followed. Scarcely a year passed before explorer Francisco Vasquez de Coronado and his entourage of several thousand Spaniards and Mexican Indians appeared in Zuni lands, occupying Hawikuh from July to November of 1540.(7)
This less-than-auspicious beginning for African-Indian relations in today's American Southwest, however, did not keep the two groups apart. Sometimes at odds with one another, other times brought together in the most intimate of relations, sexual liaisons sometimes resulting in formal marriage--African descendants and Native Americans in northern New Spain interacted throughout the Spanish colonial era. These interactions formed a web in which one group's actions affected the other group, resulting, for example, in the Pueblo kachina Chakwaina or, in the case of the Black Seminoles, in ethnogenesis, the formation of a new group of people. Children of African and Native American sexual unions, known throughout the early colonial period as mulattoes and later as,zambos, at particular times and places formed new, third groups, such as the Black Caribs or the Black Seminoles. In New Mexico, however, a third group never emerged. The small African population--at the very least 2.5 percent, according to one scholar--was partially responsible for this failure.(8) The close connection between the absence of mixed-blood group formation and exploitation, however, provides a better explanation for the absence of a New Mexico version of Black Indians.
Despite the relatively small African population in colonial New Mexico, the Spanish system of racial stratification and coerced labor placed Africans and Indians in a context of deep intercultural contact. As ethnohistorian Jack Forbes explained, "The nature of these contacts varies ... according to the region and the time period."(9) This essay will examine interactions between Indians and persons of African descent in New Mexico, the northernmost outpost of New Spain, focusing on the seventeenth and eighteenth centuties. First, the article will briefly survey the history of Spanish American slavery and initial relations between Africans and Indians.
Next I will discuss specific intercultural contacts, particularly episodes in which Africans and Indians worked together--episodes that emanate from the marginalization and disempowerment the two groups faced. Documentary evidence illustrates frequent collaborations between Africans and Indians against Spanish exploitation, ranging from joint mass uprisings to assaults on individual hacendados and their horses,(10) While Indian and mulatto residents of Parral, a mining town in northern Chihuahua, frequently filed criminal cases against one another for theft, assault, rape, and even murder, no such cases reached New Mexico court dockets. Indeed, in the latter locale, the two groups appeared together as instigators of crimes against church and state. As Forbes suggested and Esteban's death illustrated, however, Native Americans and Africans did not automatically become allies. Indeed, the Spanish government frequently sought to keep the two groups apart, implementing "divide and conquer" policies in an attempt to prevent episodes like the Pueblo Revolt. Additionally, in places like Peru, Africans at times emulated Spaniards, exploiting Indians through their higher status as artisans and supervisors of native agricultural workers.(11)
Third, this paper will examine sexual liaisons and intermarriages, the ultimate deep intercultural contact, and the cultural discussions surrounding the creation of new bloodlines, such as the mulatto and the zambo, as illustrated in a popular eighteenth-century genre of paintings known as las castas. Marriage records for northern New Spain depict a landscape of interaction between Indians and African descendants, providing hints of cultural crossovers in which African-Indian children identified with both of their cultural antecedents, at times forming an altogether new group, such as the Black Seminole tribe that arose in Florida in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Then, the essay will discuss pertinent literature in the study of Black-Indian relations.
Finally, this study will draw some conclusions responding to the central question raised by Esteban's reincarnation as the Chakwaina kachina and by Indian and Black collaboration in Spanish colonial New Mexico: What is the nature of interaction between Blacks and Indians in New Mexico, and what do those interactions suggest about the relationship between the absence of mixed-blood group formation and imperial exploitation? The answer to these questions, I will show, changed over time and space. During the early colonial period (1500-1750), the frequent contact between the two groups and the myriad laws governing their relations suggest that Native Americans, Africans, and their offspring formed a community. In the late colonial period (1750-1821), however, racially based class differentiation and concomitant exploitation kept Black Indians in New Mexico from maintaining a separate identity. By the mid- to late-eighteenth century, the colonial caste system embodied elite "divide and conquer" strategies, successfully defusing the threatening Indian-African alliances. In protocapitalist New Spain, mixed bloods with European ancestry could aspire to be honorable, a rank unattainable for those without limpieza de sangre (clean bloodlines). Non-European mixed bloods, on the other hand, gained increasing notoriety as a violent and dangerous element of society.
Africans and Indians in the Americas
Africans accompanied the earliest Spanish explorers in the Americas and thereby made contact with Native Americans from the beginning of the Spanish conquest. As Jack Forbes stated, "In America itself Black Africans and, to a lesser extent, North Africans were thrown into intensive contact with Americans soon after 1500 in the Caribbean and shortly thereafter in Brazil, Mexico, Central America, and Peru." Initial Spanish settlement of Caribbean colonies between 1493 and 1530 included freedmen and freedwomen of color. Additionally, introductions of large numbers of African slaves, mostly Christians from Seville, Spain, occurred from 1501 to 1503. By the middle of the sixteenth century, as many as 18,500 Africans and their descendants populated New Spain (Mexico).(12)
Because Indians and Africans both were considered laborers, if not outright slaves, the first extensive relations between the two groups centered around their mutual enslavement. Historian Kenneth W. Porter postulated that interracial unions likely occurred first in the West Indies, particularly due to the highly imbalanced sex ratio among Africans brought to the New World. According to Forbes, a high number of Indian females offset the high number of African males. In a discussion of early African arrivals in Spanish America, Magnus Morner claimed that "logically, their partners were usually Indian women. In fact, it seems as if many Indian women preferred them to their own husbands."(13) Another motivation for African men to intermarry with Indian women centered on the Spanish law of the womb; that is, a child's freedom rested on that of its mother. This motivation became even more salient after 1542, when many Native Americans gained liberation from formal slavery. After that year, Indian women, at least theoretically, could not be enslaved. For their part, Indian women may have found motivation for intermarriage in the sexual imbalance in their villages.
Given the above incentives, the population of free "Red-Black people" rose steadily throughout the sixteenth century. Forbes maintained that "this free population, freed not by individual Spaniards but by its native mothers' status, represented a threat especially whenever [that population] existed near hostile native groups or communities of Red-Black cimarrones (runaways)."(14) Sixteenth-century Spanish authorities issued numerous laws and decrees in often futile attempts to control Indian-African alliances and offspring. A 1527 law required that Blacks only marry other Blacks. In a similar vein, a 1541 decree required slaves to marry legally, in reaction to reports that African slaves frequently kept "great numbers of Indian women, some of them voluntarily, others against their wishes." A decree (cedula) issued in 1551 and reissued in 1584 noted "that many negros have Indian females as mancebas (concubines) or treat them badly and oppress them." In 1572, authorities issued a law requiring children of African men and Indian women to pay tribute "like the rest of the Indians [although] it is pretended that they are not [Indians]." King Philip II in 1595 ordered that unmarried non-Natives living among Natives be expelled from Indian villages. These shifting laws governing the status of African descendants reveal the Spanish colonial state's ambivalence over the racial/ethnic identity of this group.
Another branch of decrees and laws focused on revolts and communities of runaway slaves. A 1540 decree allowed for cimarrones to be pardoned only once. A decree issued the same year stated that cimarrones should not be castrated as punishment for having run away. Two years later, laws appeared that placed limitations on Black mobility. As of 1542, Blacks were not permitted to wander through the streets at night, Additionally, in 1551, Africans could no longer serve Indians and neither free nor enslaved Blacks or lobos (offspring of Indians and mulattoes) could carry weapons. In a further limitation of African freedom, a 1571 law forbade free and enslaved Black and mulatto women from wearing gold, pearls, and silk. An exception could be made, however, for free mulatas married to Spaniards, who had the right to wear gold earrings and pearl necklaces. Another reduction on African and Afro-Hispano liberties came in 1577 with a decree that free Blacks and mulattoes should live with known employers, which would facilitate the payment of tribute and keep African descendants under control. In addition, a census would be taken in each district and free people of color were obligated to advise the local justice when they absented themselves from their employer's household. Finally, a report in 1585 noted that mestizos and mulattoes frequently played leading roles among Chichimeca rebels in the Zacatecas-Coahuila region.(15) Such armed resistance made the earlier restrictions placed on African and Indian movements and public behavior all the more necessary, at least in the eyes of Spanish authorities. Whether these laws had any impact on the two groups remains unknown, but the very existence of such rules suggests that Africans and Indians frequently participated in all the activities forbidden to them.
New Mexico's status as a province of New Spain meant that the above laws applied to Indians and Africans living on the far northern frontier. The Spanish Archives of New Mexico include copies of decrees and declarations of kings and viceroys that clarified or changed earlier rulings. For example, a 1706 order compelled African descendants to attend church. In 1785, New Mexico governor Joseph Antonio Rengel received a letter advising that the custom of branding Africans on the cheek and shoulder had been abolished. A 1790 viceregal order granted freedom to slaves escaping into Spanish territory. In the interests of agriculture, in 1804 King Carlos IV renewed the privilege held by Spaniards and foreigners of importing African slaves into specified Spanish-American ports. A related 1804 cedula renewed the privilege of free importation of African slaves. Finally, in 1817, King Fernando VII abolished the African slave trade. Hence, extant documents in New Mexico archives trace the gradual abolition of African slavery. These same archives, however, contain no evidence of continued attempts to exert Spanish authority over African-Indian relations.(16)
Partners in Rebellion and War
Beginning with their initial contact, Native Americans and Africans collaborated in committing armed resistance against Spanish exploiters. Porter noted that "from the earliest appearance of Negro slavery in the Spanish possessions, the Negroes, when not engaged in fomenting revolts among the neighboring Indians or starting insurrections on their own account, seem to have contented themselves with running away to take refuge among the natives."(17) This type of interaction characterized relations between Africans and Indians in New Mexico from the earliest exploration and settlement ventures. On the 1594 Leyva y Bonilla expedition, which wandered as far as Wichita tribal lands in present-day Kansas, soldier Antonio Gutierrez de Humana murdered Leyva y Bonilla and then took over the expedition. At Quivira, Wichitas killed the entire entourage, except for one Spanish boy, Alonso Sanchez, and a mulatto woman who was half-burned. A 1601 expedition led by New Mexico colonist Juan de Onate learned that the boy and the woman still lived and endeavored to locate them. Onate, in fact, brought to New Mexico in 1598 several African slaves. Given the proximity of the initial Spanish settlement at San Gabriel to San Juan Pueblo, it is probable that Onate's slaves frequently intermeshed with the San Juans.(18)
In the decades leading up to the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, intense church and state rivalry for jurisdiction over the Pueblos, among other things, split the less than two hundred vecinos (citizens, including Spaniards, mestizos, and African descendants) into two vitriolic factions. In 1643, Governor Pacheco executed eight leading citizens of Santa Fe. Incensed Franciscan friars claimed he could not have done so without the support of strangers, a Portuguese man, mestizos, sambahigos (sons of Indian men and African women), and mulattoes. This charge suggests the existence of a "racial cleavage in New Mexico, with the persons of non-Spanish ancestry supporting the secular side of the dispute."(19)
Such venomous disputes between New Mexico's civil and religious authorities showed Puebloans the weaknesses in the Spanish governing structure. Additionally, nearby tribes attempted to throw off the oppressive Spanish yoke. In his book Apache, Navaho, and Spaniard, Jack Forbes recounted a rebellion by Concho and Suma Indians in the area that is now El Paso, instigated by a mulatto servant. Forbes argued that priests frequently employed mulattoes to control mission Indians. As mentioned earlier, mulatto servants at times emulated the overbearing attitudes of Spanish overlords. When this happened, Forbes suggested, Indians revolted. In 1667, following the death from natural causes of a mission friar, Sumas and Conchos rebelled, killing a mulatto servant and abandoning the mission altogether.(20) At times, the marginalization suffered by both Indians and Africans pitted them against one another. In this case, Africans who did their Spanish masters' bidding incurred Native American wrath.
On the other hand, marginalization and intolerance by Spanish colonials also threw members of the two groups together in attempts to oust their oppressors. Rumors surrounding the Pueblo Revolt illustrate this type of cooperation. In 1967, Fray Angelico Chavez published an article on the successful 1680 revolt, arguing that it was not led by the Puebloans themselves, but by a mulatto. Employing a racist argument in which he questioned the intelligence and ability of Pueblo Indians to pull off a successful rebellion, Chavez sought to give credit for the organization and leadership of the entire uprising to Naranjo, a big Black man with yellow eyes mentioned in Indian testimonies about the revolt. Comparing Puebloans and Africans in words reflective of racist assumptions of the 1950s and 1960s, Chavez claimed that the revolt was "not the first time that an African spoiled the best-laid plans of the Spaniard in American colonial times, but it was the most dramatic. More active and restless by nature than the more passive and stolid Indian, he was more apt to muddle up some serious Hispanic enterprise."(21) Using records of Indian testimonies, Chavez argued that Naranjo, a mulatto of Mexican Indian roots who called himself the representative of Pueblo god Pose-yemu, directed the course of the Pueblo. Revolt from his hiding place in a Taos kiva. Some twenty-three years later, in 1990, historian Stefanie Beninato challenged Chavez's controversial argument, interpreting the same documents but using a wider cultural framework. She agreed that a mulatto worked with the Puebloans as a tactical leader, but postulated that a non-Pueblo man could not have been a leader in the revolt. Hence, she suggested that Naranjo's roots were Puebloan rather than Mexican Indian.(22)
Both Chavez and Beninato, however, overlooked the significance of the mulatto Naranjo's involvement in an event that epitomized Indian resistance to Spanish colonial rule. According to Jack Forbes, the Pueblo rebels included "mestizos and mulattoes and people who speak Spanish."(23) Since the early sixteenth century, Spaniards had feared just such an alliance, and with good reason. The Pueblo Revolt had been preceded by numerous similar alliances throughout Spanish America. Forbes argued that slavery and general labor oppression created an atmosphere of resistance among marginalized peoples, making conditions favorable for the establishment of intimate relationships between African descendants and Native Americans.(24)
Reports by New Mexico governor Antonio de Otermin and his military officers demonstrate that African-Indian interaction in the province led to what Spaniards perceived as a frustrating and threatening alliance. In a document dated 9 August 1680, the day Puebloans launched their attack on the Spaniards, Otermin related events reported by captured Indians.
There had come to them from very far away toward the north a letter from an Indian lieutenant of Po he yemu to the effect that all of them in general should rebel, and that any pueblo that would not agree to it they would destroy, killing all the people. It was reported that this Indian lieutenant of Po he yemu was very tall, black and had very large yellow eyes, and that everyone feared him greatly.(25)
Encouraged by the successful example set by the Puebloans, neighboring tribes also planned revolts. Worried Spaniards recorded these rumors in reports and letters as they tried to ascertain the extent of the threat. On 29 August 1680, Andres Lopez de Gracia wrote to don Bartolome de Estrada concerning a Suma plot. Similar to the 1667 Concho and Suma rebellion discussed above, this revolt resulted from a mulatto servant's abuse of Indians. Lopez de Gracia reported that the Suma actions were "instigated by only a few Indians, who do not number more than eight.... According to the information I have, the cause of it all is a mulatto who is on the Rio de los Janos, a servant of ... Father Juan Martinez, because of what he did to an Indian, whose ears he cut off." In hopes of defusing the Suma rebellion, Lopez de Gracia ordered the mulatto servant arrested.(26) Mistreatment from any source incurred Indian retaliation.
Rebel Indians also formed alliances with other mistreated groups, making the Pueblo Revolt even more widespread and threatening to Spaniards. Otermin on several occasions noted his frustration with such alliances. In order to counteract a rear action conducted by mounted Pueblo and Apache Indians and led by Picuris leader Luis Tupatu, the ousted New Mexico governor retreated downriver toward his Isleta stronghold. In his report of this action, Otermin described a much-feared alliance formed by Tupatu's followers and "the confident coyotes, mestizos, and mulattoes, all of whom are skillful horsemen and know how to manage harquebuses and lances, together with the main body and column of the rest of the people of all the nations." Several days later, in a report regarding the pacification of Isleta Pueblo, Otermin castigated the Pueblos and their allies:
Obstinate and rebellious, they have left their pueblo houses, the grain upon which they subsist, and other things, taking their families and fleeing with them to the roughest of the sierras, joining together to resist and willing to lose their lives rather than submit. Many mestizos, mulattoes, and people who speak Spanish have followed them, who are skillful on horseback and who can manage firearms as well as any Spaniard. These persons incited them to disobedience and boldness in excess of their natural iniquity.(27)
The importance of these alliances to Pueblo strategy remains unknown, but Spaniards forced to abandon New Mexico viewed casta (mixed blood) cooperation with Indians as a disloyal and threatening act, particularly in that such alliances symbolized the rejection of Spanish civilization. Although scholarship and extant documents surrounding the revolt do not reveal whether the Indian-casta alliance continued after 1682, it is likely that allied mestizos and mulattoes intermarried with Puebloans during the revolt years (through 1696). Native Americans and castas shared a marginal status in Spanish New Mexican society, in which pretensions to power required at least the illusion of limpieza de sangre. Both groups stood to gain from rebellion against Spanish authority. By joining Pueblo rebels, New Mexico castas constructed a group identity as "not-Spanish," which meant they would no longer acquiesce, at least for the revolt years, to Spanish domination over Puebloans and castas alike.
Partners in Crime
Witchcraft provided another means for the two groups to work together toward a specific end. In one such case, mulatto Juana Sanches, wife of Captain Juan Gomes, obtained herbs from a Tewa Indian women living at San Juan Pueblo. Juana Sanches wanted to make her husband stop treating her badly. She claimed that he beat her and that he was engaged in a "bad friendship" with a concubine. The Indian woman gave Sanches two yellow roots and two grains of blue corn with points of white hearts inside. She chewed the corn and anointed her husband's chest with it, and repeated the exercise with the herbs. Sanches added to her 1631 testimony to New Mexico's agent of the Inquisition that ten or twelve years prior, Hispanicized (ladino) Mexican Indian Beatris de los Angeles, wife of the alferez Juan de la Cruz, visited her. Finding Juana Sanches to be sad from her husband's mistreatment, Beatris de los Angeles counseled her to take a few worms that live in excrement and toast them, then put them in her husband's food. With this, he would love her very much and stop beating her. Sanches did this, but to no avail. The potion did not alleviate her situation.
Sanches also implicated her sister, Juana de los Reyes, also a mulatto, in committing similar activities. Sanches declared that five or six years before, her sister claimed to know something about herbs and roots, which she had given to her husband, mulatto Alvaro Garcia, so that he would stop visiting concubines. An Indian woman supplied Reyes with the herbs and roots to anoint her husband's chest. Juana de los Reyes made her own declaration, stating that she had been very sad because her husband was sleeping around and not staying in the house with her. So, she asked her sister Juana Sanches for help. Sanches said that she had an herb, given to her by an Indian woman, that was good for such occasions. She gave Reyes three or four grains of corn and Reyes gave this potion to her husband in his food twice and also made an ointment for his chest. With this potion, her husband loved her very much and forgot his vices. She gave him the potion another time in his food and anointed his chest once more, with the result that he woke up, threw off her hand, and left her. Because the potion now had no effect, she left the situation in God's hands. Juana de los Reyes also described another remedy told to her by the Indian woman: Suck on your two big fingers and give the saliva from the sucked fingers to your spouse in his food and he will love you well and stop seeing concubines. Reyes declared that she tried this once and did not want to try it again because it made her nauseous and it had no effect on her husband. Finally, at the same time that the above testimonies were made, Beatris de la Pedraza also made a declaration. She claimed to be the Indian woman who gave advice and herbs to Sanches and Reyes.(28)
Unfortunately, the records do not indicate whether the Inquisition pursued the case. In New Mexico during the 1630s, the Inquisition pursued cases of heresy more often than those of witchcraft. Moreover, the New Mexico inquisitor did not have the power to try cases. He could only make arrests and send those under suspicion to Mexico City to be tried.(29) Thus, it is likely that nothing came of Juana Sanches's and Juana de los Reyes's experiments in herbal remedies. A far more interesting question surrounds the two mulata women's close working relationship with Indian curanderas. How they made connections with Indian women, and why they did not implicate medicine women by name in their depositions, remain unanswerable questions. Perhaps gender concerns brought Native American and African women together. Additionally, as Jack Forbes has argued, in early Spanish colonial usage, mulato frequently referred to a person of Indian and African heritage, rather than its later usage as a referent for the offspring of African and European unions.(30) Given this insight, it is possible that Juana Sanches and her sister, Juana de los Reyes, sprang from African and Indian parentage. If so, they may have long held knowledge of Indian and African curanderas and the types of situations that could be remedied with herbal potions. Additionally, Sanches and Reyes used their connections with Indian medicine women in desperate attempts to control their husbands' abusive behavior. In order to gain control, the women relied on female knowledge and cross-cultural community.
In a similar case in 1632, a mulatto servant named Diego de Santiago and two mestizo soldiers, Pedro de la Cruz and Geronimo Pacheco, participated in Pueblo religious ceremonies held at San Juan Pueblo. Another soldier, Diego Garcia, testified that a Tewa Indian interpreter from Santa Clara Pueblo named Luisillo told him that Pedro de la Cruz took part in idolatry with the Indians. He had "a creature dead there in the oven" (a kachina in the kiva) and offered cotton and other things to the devil. Additionally, Diego de Santiago had been overheard commenting on the beauty of Indian ceremonies performed at Alameda Pueblo. In his own testimony, Santiago discussed dances he witnessed at Alameda Pueblo three years prior. He described in great detail, but not in a negative tone, the activities he saw in the kiva:
They danced for a while and when they stopped dancing they went to sleep and they returned in the morning and danced and later they went dancing to the kiva, and went around the whole pueblo and together at a corner they put everyone in a row and everyone gathered straw and earth and with this, one Indian from among them them took an arrow in his hands and passed by everyone touching the arrow to the chest, and at the end he threw the arrow to the west and all the Indians tossed the earth and straw that they had kept in their hands up to that point.(31)
This 1632 New Mexico Inquisition investigation illustrates the great interest and awe with which castas viewed and discussed Pueblo religious ceremonies. Their enthusiasm for Native religion sometimes resulted in troublesome and potentially dangerous Inquisition investigations. For their part, Puebloans seemed willing to allow mestizos and African descendants access to their sacred rituals, perhaps based on casta Indian and African ancestry.
Despite imperial efforts to keep Africans and Indians apart, social and economic disempowerment sometimes led those at the bottom of the Spanish empire's racial hierarchy to join forces against exploitive ricos (elites) and middling Hispanos. On 23 June 1762 in Santa Fe, testimony began in the criminal case against mulatto Luis Flores and genizaro (detribalized Indian) Miguel Reano for the robbery of a cow. Santa Fe officials surveyed the houses of all citizens living on the edges of the mountains on the outskirts of town, searching for signs of a recently butchered beef cow. They found what they were looking for at the home of Luis Flores. He had indeed butchered the cow, and Miguel Reano had brought the animal to Flores's home. New Mexico governor Tomas Velez Cachupin ordered that the beef be distributed among Santa Fe's widows and other poor men and women and that the two suspects be imprisoned.
The testimonies that follow reveal a confused situation in which middling Hispanos seem to have taken advantage of their poorer and hungrier neighbors. Miguel Reano testified that Antonio Sandobal owned the cow and that his son, Juan Sandobal, had sold the cow to him in exchange for a horse. In his declaration, Flores claimed that he planned to cut the brand from the cow and give it to Antonio Sandobal, the owner of the cow, and that he and Reano would share the meat. Juan Sandobal, however, declared that he had not sold a cow to Reano and that he had not left his house at all, much less to barter with Reano. Two witnesses verified that Sandobal had not left his house except to look for a horse to ride to mass, so he could not have engineered the sale of a cow.
In light of these testimonies, Governor Velez Cachupin declared Flores and Reano guilty as charged for the robbery of a cow and condemned the "criminals" to pay for the animal. Because Reano had no personal effects other than his labor, Velez Cachupin ordered him to serve Antonio Sandobal until he had earned one-half the cost of the cow. Luis Flores, for pain of his sin and for setting a bad example for the Indian Miguel Reano, was sentenced to repair Santa Fe's royal adobe buildings.(32) The bureaucratic language that Spanish interrogators and scribes employed makes it difficult for readers two and a half centuries later to determine guilt. It does seem, however, that Luis Flores and Miguel Reano, as members of the lowest rung in Spanish society, never stood a chance. In all likelihood, the Sandobals passed off a rejected cow on the unsuspecting duo, gaining a monetary return, a horse, and free labor to boot. The town of Santa Fe benefited as well, gaining food for its poor as well as free refurbishing work on royal buildings. Flores and Reano stood as the only losers. More importantly, this case illustrates the ease with which Native Americans and African Americans interacted.
Spanish colonial censuses and marriage registers contain records of numerous legal unions between Native Americans and African Americans--unions regulated under the same "divide and conquer" strategy that guided colonial officials' thinking in matters of crime and legal slavery. Social laws forbade marriages between elite Spaniards and mixed bloods. Many unions between these groups took place, however, despite efforts to maintain social honor and "pure" bloodlines.
Intermarriages between the two groups involved people in a variety of circumstances: Indian and African slaves; free people of color in the Americas; Africans who fled to Indian nations and were initially enslaved but later became members of the group through marriage and adoption; Africans who escaped slavery to form quilombos or cimarron (runaway) communities; and individual African runaways.(33) Thus, especially in New Mexico, frontier areas served as a "cultural merging ground and a marrying ground." In historian Gary Nash's pithy words, "Nobody left the frontier cultural encounters unchanged."(34)
Marriage records in the Archives of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe show the extent to which New Mexico fit the above description. Although pre-1680 ecclesiastical documents disappeared in the Pueblo Revolt, many of the records from the 1690s forward have survived. Marriage investigations (diligencias matrimoniales) and entries in Roman Catholic matrimonial books (libros de casamientos) record significant numbers of marital unions between persons of African descent and Native Americans throughout New Mexico's colonial period. Moreover, diligencias often provide information beyond the names and racial or ethnic identities of betrothed couples. Details about personal histories, such as work or residential mobility, are mentioned in these documents. Pieced together, diligencias and other sacramental records depict a landscape of interaction between Indians and African descendants on the intimate level of marriage, as well as in society and the economy.
From 1697 to 1711, several mixed couples residing in New Mexico initiated marital proceedings. In 1697, mulatto widower Jose Gaitan, native of San Luis Potosi, married Indian widow Geronima de la Cruz, native of San Felipe, Chihuahua. Likewise, in 1711, mulatto Fabian Naranjo married Tewa Indian Micaela de la Cruz. Both spouses were New Mexico Natives,(35) Similar unions took place in El Paso del Norte, which was a part of New Mexico throughout the colonial period. Maria Persingula, Indian from Ysleta del Sur Pueblo, married free mulatto Cayetano de la Rosa, native of Santa Fe, in 1736. Two other marriages between mulatto men and Indian women took place that same year. The following year, Apache Indian Mafia Ysidora, who had previously been married to a mulatto slave, united in matrimony with another Apache, Salvador Maria. In 1738, another Apache woman, Antonia Rosa, married free mulatto Juan Pedro Vanegas. Yet another Apache-African union occurred in 1760, between Black slave and Congo native Joseph Antonio and Apache Indian servant Marzela. A similar marriage took place in 1764. Finally, two 1779 unions featured Indian grooms and free mulatto brides.(36)
While frontier fluidity facilitated cross-cultural unions, it also fostered a chaotic atmosphere in which bigamy flourished. In one such case, occurring in 1634, two traveling soldiers discovered that mulatto Juan Anton, a recent arrival in New Mexico from Nueva Vizcaya, had two wives. He had married a Mexican Indian named Aha Maria in Santa Fe. The soldiers met Juan Anton's first wife, an African slave woman, in Cuencame, Nueva Vizcaya, while en route to Mexico City. The first wife had four or five children, all fathered by Juan Anton. When he heard that denunciations had been made against him for the crime of bigamy, he disappeared.(37)Juan Anton's choice of wives --first a Black slave and then a free Mexican Indian--comprises a striking element of this case. He may well have chosen his second wife in order to facilitate the birth of free rather than enslaved offspring, as the status of children followed that of the mother. Additionally, his marriages illustrate the ease with which castas and Indians intermarried. Indeed, New Mexico Inquisitor Fray Estevan de Perea declared in 1631 that New Mexico's population consisted of mestizos, mulattoes, and zambohijos (offspring of Indians and mulattoes).(38)
Similarly, the 1750 Albuquerque census well illustrates the deep intercultural contacts precipitated by frontier demographics and dynamics. Out of 191 families, 18 households included both Native Americans and African descendants. Some of these households, like that of mulatto couple Juan Samora and Ynes Candelaria, included Indian servants. In this case, nine-year-old Mafia served Samora, Candelaria, and their four children, who ranged in age from two years to nine years. In other households, Indians and mulattoes lived together as husbands and wives. For example, mulatto Chrisanto Torres, age thirty, and his forty-year-old wife, Indian Luisa Candelaria, lived with their four daughters, who ranged in age from two to ten years. Out of the eighteen mixed households, however, fifteen featured Indians in service roles, although in some cases Indians served alongside mulatto or Black servants. Clearly, by 1750, some mulatto families achieved socioeconomic distinction over the Native Americans with whom they had once been equally marginalized.(39)
Other Indian and mulatto families, however, joined forces in land grant ventures. In 1751, Governor Velez Cachupin issued the Las Trampas grant as part of New Mexico's Indian defense policy. The grant location would serve as a barrier to nomadic raiders and would increase the amount of agricultural land available to Santa Fe's poor. Las Trampas petitioners hailed from the Barrio de Analco region of Santa Fe, whose residents were primarily presidio soldiers, Mexican Indian servants, and genizaros. Additionally, Las Trampas settlers included African descendant Melchor Rodriguez, his son, and his daughter. Hence, Las Trampas settlers represented mixed genizaro, Tlaxcalan, African, and Spanish bloodlines. As in the genizaro settlements of Abiquiu and San Miguel del Bado, "the task of holding frontier outposts against Indian attack fell primarily to other Indians and mixed-blood Spaniards.(40)
Additionally, after 1750 only one marriage between Indians and African descendants gained mention in the marriage record books for Albuquerque, the 1763 union of mulatto Gabriel Barrera and Apache Indian Maria.(41) This lack of marriage records could be attributed to a change in the way priests recorded marriages: As the eighteenth century progressed, priests recorded ethnicity less and less frequently. Or the lack of evidence for marriages between African Americans and Native Americans may signal that class and racial distinctions became far more salient in the late colonial period. Indeed, historian Ramon Gutierrez argues that increasing numbers of castas in New Mexico frightened ricos, "who expressed concern over the pollution of their blood lines and the loss of honor." In an attempt to control these racial demographic changes, New Mexico elites turned to legal skin color-based categories, borrowing heavily from schema adhered to in central New Spain.(42)
A genre of paintings known as las castas appeared in New Spain in the mid to late colonial period. While these paintings depicted the complex mixtures of people in Spanish America, they also underscored the colony's strict social hierarchy, based largely on skin pigmentation. Mexican scholar Nicolas Leon's 1924 pamphlet, Las castas del mexico colonial o nueva espana, detailed this genre of paintings. According to Leon, the castas distinction arose from a societal understanding that the products of intermarriages could not be considered of equal category and importance before society. Therefore, the distinction of castes emerged, "each one with a special name according to the class of the original primitive element that formed it."(43)
Caste paintings simultaneously illustrated awareness of racial distinctions and the widespread nature of racial mingling. They showed husband, wife, and their mixed-blood child, usually with a label describing the process. For example, a casta painting by Ignacio Castro, now housed in Paris, proclaims, "De indio y negra, nace lobo" (of a male Indian and a female Black a lobo is bom). In this portrait, the Black woman is young, gracious, and operates an open-air food stand. Her husband, the Indian, extends his hand to receive a plate of chiles, which the little lobo hands to him with a look of curiosity.(44) In sum, this caste painting embodies a scene of domestic tranquillity. Indeed, Gary Nash argued that the caste paintings of intermarriages "mostly invited tolerance, common compassion, and some understanding of `the fundamental cohesion of the human race.'"(45)
On the other hand, caste paintings also carried overt messages regarding the vices of the lower classes--vices that interracial unions exacerbated. As Nash explained, "some caste paintings registered domestic discord, and they are especially revealing in associating marital turbulence with the mixing of African and Indian bloodstreams, whereas the dark-skinned African or Indian who married a Spaniard could count on a child with a favorable temperament."(46) Inscriptions on caste paintings ensured that audiences would understand the artist's message about dangerous racial mixtures. Yet, one wonders if casta artists captured the mood of Spanish colonial society with such portraits, or if they served a more didactic purpose, providing yet another means through which colonial officials attempted to "divide and conquer" the lower classes.
Another interesting element of caste paintings concerns their implicit encouragement of interracial relationships between Spaniards and other groups. Some paintings suggested that domestic tranquility increased in direct proportion to amounts of Spanish blood, or limpieza de sangre. Inscriptions even went so far as to credit success and intelligence to the presence of European blood. For example, one family portrait announces that "the pride and sharp wits of the mulatto are instilled by his white father and black mother." In contrast, the cambujo (child of a lobo father and Indian mother) "is usually slow, lazy, and cumbersome."(47)
One type of caste painting featured a chart of racial mixtures, beginning with the highest level of Spanish blood and ending with the lowest level. Even the names given to offspring of the latter intermarriages indicated societal disdain. For instance, the product of a union between a calpan mulata and a sambaygo carried the name tente en el aire (grope in the air). The next lower rung, the child of a tente en el aire and a mulata, was called no te entiendo (I don't understand you). Finally, the offspring of no te entiendo and an Indian woman became known as hay te estas (stay where you are).(48) Hence, the upper rungs of Spanish colonial society, or at least the artists, did not oppose interracial marriages as such. They did, however, associate danger and violence with unions between the most marginalized and disempowered groups. The marriage records cited above indicate that intimate relations between Native Americans and African Americans continued, albeit at a reduced rate in late-eighteenth-century New Mexico, despite class-based assumptions about lower-class intermarriages. Indeed, it is likely that racist assumptions embedded in caste paintings had little impact on the very groups depicted. Caste paintings served to buttress upper class attempts to distinguish themselves from lower classes rather than to discourage interracial marriages.
In addition, caste paintings symbolized elite attempts to revise New Mexico's racial heritage. Father Juan Agustin de Morfi penned an Account of Disorders in 1778, in which he delineated the myriad problems facing New Mexico. One area of great concern to Morfi centered on the exploitation of Indian Puebloans by other castas. The priest lamented that laws prohibiting Spaniards, mulattoes, mestizos, and Blacks from living in Indian pueblos were not enforced. "And," Morfi added, "it is difficult to judge if the resulting intermingling of races is useful or harmful to the Indians themselves and to the State." For their part, Morfi continued, Spaniards and castas find life in Indian pueblos much preferable to farming their own lands, and all too often "they shrewdly take advantage of the natural indifference of those miserable people to heap upon them new obligations." These obligations include domestic service and the elections of mulattoes and coyotes as Indian pueblo governors. According to the priest, "this rascal's treatment of the Indians is guided by hatred and arrogance." Morfi recommended that all outsiders be expelled from Indian pueblos and non-Indian partners in mixed marriages should not hold public office in the pueblo. Interestingly, Morfi had nothing but scorn for non-Indian castas, particularly mulattoes, whom he viewed as exploiters of victimized Puebloans. While he certainly disapproved of casta pretensions, Morfi by no means ignored their presence. His Account stands as one of the latest documents to include African descendants and to link them in interactions with Indians.(49)
Writing some thirty-four years later, New Mexico rico don Pedro Baptista Pino, in his Exposition on the Province of New Mexico, 1812, declared that "in New Mexico there are no castas of African origin. My province is probably the only one with this prerogative in all of Spanish America. At no time has any casta of people of African origin been known there." In making this claim, Pino deliberately revised New Mexico's racial history, denying the existence of a small yet visible group of Africans and their descendants, many of whom held Indian heritage as well. Pino's denial symbolized an overt attempt by elites to obliterate a history of racial mixtures and alliances born of resistance to dominant group exploitation,(50) As Pino's comments suggest, constructions of racial identity in New Mexico increasingly moved toward a fantasy "White" heritage decades before Anglo-Americans arrived on the scene. Such racial reification all but obliterated African descendants and their interactions with Native Americans from the historical record.
A Failure of Historical Memory
Not surprisingly, given Pino's denial of New Mexico's mixed racial heritage, recent discussions of intermarriages between African Americans and Native Americans fail to address the long history of such unions. Indeed, Pueblo women who alluded to the topic in oral histories recorded in the late 1960s did not indicate any awareness of the five centuries of "Red-Black" interaction and deep cultural contacts. Rosalinda Lucero of Isleta Pueblo placed African Americans at the bottom of the list of desirable marriage partners. As Lucero stated:
I've heard elderly people where they have heard where these younger girls have married colored, why they say how would the clan leader look having a colored sitting in among the clanships there. Because he's dark. That's what I've heard 'em say. But of course, I mean, these are the clan members speaking, you know. But in the path of religion, there's no difference.(51)
Similarly, San Juan Pueblo resident Tillie Decker noted that the few African Americans connected with the pueblo, including a school principal and one married to Decker's cousin, "get along" and "had no trouble."(52) Granted, these few interviews cannot speak for all New Mexico Indians. However, surveys of Pueblo art, tribal histories, and folktales reveal no references to historical interaction with Africans and their descendants, with the exception of Zuni legends about Esteban recorded by Frank H. Cushing and Adolph Bandelier over one hundred years ago.(53)
Hence, few people outside the world of academe (and not so many inside that world) remember the historical prevalence of Black-Indian interaction. Rhett Jones bemoaned this historical omission in a 1986 article, "Social-Scientific Perspectives on the Afro-American Arts." In the article, Jones listed specific reasons for this lack of scholarly and popular treatment. First, he argued, "the racially mixed children of these unions have often been uncertain as to their racial identity." Second, many of these racially mixed offspring prefer not to identify themselves as Black. Third, the demographics of history factor into the problem. There were very few societies in which large numbers of Blacks and Indians interacted and still fewer studies of those societies. Moreover, anthropologists rather than historians have engaged in those studies.(54)
In spite of Jack Forbes's prolific attention to the etymology of the terms mulatto and zambo, the most frequently treated Black Indian subgroup remains the Black Seminoles.(55) Daniel Littlefield and Kevin Mulroy have closely examined the history of this group. Additionally, Theda Perdue and William McLoughlin have discussed African slavery among the Cherokees.(56) Two of the most engaging treatments of the Black Seminoles examine the group in comparison with other Black Indians, particularly the Black Caribs, who now live in Central America and on several Caribbean Islands. In her article, "Africans and Indians: A Comparative Study of the Black Carib and Black Seminole," Rebecca Bateman used ethnohistorical methods to discuss how the Black Caribs and the Black Seminoles originated as distinctive "new peoples." She "focuse[d] on the role that the structure of domestic and community relations has played in preserving their distinctiveness and discusse[d] the differences between these groups in regard to their relationships with the Indians whose names they bear.(57) Another comparative article, written by Jan Carew, provided an overview of Indian and African cooperation during the early colonial period. In "United We Stand! Joint struggles of Native Americans and African Americans in the Columbian Era," Carew focused on today's southeastern United States. He argued that "from the very beginning of the Columbian era ... Africans and Native Americans had consciously set about laying the foundations for a new civilization through a joint struggle and a fusion of their cultures."(58)
Two additional articles addressed the cultural fusion to which Carew alludes. In "'Make Like Seem Heep Injin': Pidginization in the Southwest," Elizabeth Brandt and Christopher MacCrate examined the influence of Black, Chinese, Mexican, and Anglo presence on Southwest Indians' development of American Indian pidgin English. They argued that "through the presence of thousands of Blacks in the Southwest ... we are provided with the opportunity and motive for their participation in an American Indian pidgin English," a language "which met the needs dictated by the contact between different ethnic groups."(59) Similarly, Mary Ellison traced parallels in Native American and African American folktales and myths in her article, "Black Perceptions and Red Images: Indian and Black Literary Links." She found that trickster figures, particularly the rabbit, "contain the key to Black and Indian responses in repressive situations." Furthermore, she connected the persistence of trickster figures in late twentieth-century Black and Native American literature to the continuing economic and political marginalization faced by both groups.(60)
Folktales featuring tricksters comprise a twentieth-century remnant of the early cooperation and affinity shared by Africans and Indians. Thomas Patterson argued that "from early on ... African slaves and Native Americans recognized the commonality of their interests and experiences; they had a sense of community that was continually forged and reproduced in their everyday lives by virtue of the places they shared in that system of exploitation called the colonial class structure."(61) I would add that the same colonial class structure chipped away at African-Indian community alliances by elevating mixed bloods with European roots at the expense of Africans, Native Americans, and the children of their unions. The "divide and conquer" strategy, under the guise of class differentiation, kept Black Indians in New Mexico from forming an identity as a distinctive third group. In addition, American and European liberalism pushed New Mexico elites like Pino to redefine the province's racial heritage, separating and elevating "White" civilization from darker-skinned noble "savagery." Yet, as this essay has shown, African descendants and Native Americans interacted as partners in rebellion and war, as partners in crime, and as sexually intimate partners. These interactions reveal a web of cooperation, but also a web of silence. Such linkages are now the stuff of obscure archival records and little-known oral tradition, such as Zuni stories of a murdered Black Mexican related to Cushing over a century ago. Yet Black-Indian interaction surely left subtle legacies. It seems likely that African and Indian cultural elements meshed together, forming something that centuries later appeared to be exclusively Indian in heritage. For example, Native American healing arts, trickster folklore, and creative arts may have been reconfigured over the course of centuries of interaction with Africans.
Late eighteenth-century class differentiation whitewashed the cross-cultural alliances and shared experiences that gave birth to African-Native American interaction. Elites like don Pedro Baptista Pino and the artists responsible for the castas paintings tried valiantly to make the web of interaction invisible. The fiction of limpieza de sangre and desire for legitimacy in a place in which mixed bloods were increasingly salient required the denial of African roots. Moreover, imperial exploitation had the unintended consequence of pushing powerless groups into an alliances, such as that of the Pueblo Revolt. Hence, the case of colonial New Mexico shows that exploitation can foster linkages between marginalized groups and simultaneously squelch group formation, resulting in a fictionalized, sanitized historical memory of racial and ethnic identity.
(1.) Frederick Dockstader, The Kachina and the White Man: The Influences of White Culture on the Hopi Kachina Cult, 2nd ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1985), 61. Dockstader argues that Esteban's murder stemmed from Pueblo distaste for arrogance and a realization that, given his Indian costume, he was not a god. The pueblo held a council and decided to deny him entrance into Hawikuh. "In the ensuing melee he was killed by arrows, and the southern Indians who had accompanied him fled."
(2.) Jesse Green, ed., Cushing at Zuni: The Correspondence and Journals of Frank Hamilton Cushing, 1879-1884 (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1990), 10, 335; and Adolph F. A. Bandelier, The Gilded Man (El Dorado) (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1893), 159.
(3.) Bandelier, Gilded Man, 159.
(4.) Figure 1 from Dockstader, The Kachina and the White Man. Permission for use granted by the University of New Mexico Press, 1-800-249-7737.
(5.) Dockstader, The Kachina and the White Man, 12-13. In When Jesus Came, the Corn Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality, and Power in New Mexico, 1500-1846 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1991), 40-41, Ramon Gutierrez describes Esteban as a Black kachina who promised the future arrival of many White kachinas. Gutierrez speculated that Zuni elders asked each other, "Who was this black katsina [sic]?. Whence had he come? What did he want? Would more katsina shortly arrive, as Estevanico said?"
(6.) E. Charles Adams, "The Katsina Cult: A Western Pueblo Perspective," in Kachinas in the Pueblo World, ed. Polly Schaafsma (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 35-46, especially 44.
(7.) Gutierrez, When Jesus Came, 45.
(8.) Adrian Bustamante, "Los Hispanos: Ethnicity and Social Change in New Mexico," (Ph.D. diss., University of New Mexico, 1982), 66. This estimate is based on eighteenth century censuses, especially the 1750 census. I believe that this is a low estimate. Documents for the seventeenth century were destroyed in the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, but Blacks and mulattoes appear frequently in the few extant records.
(9.) See Gary B. Nash, "The Hidden History of Mestizo America," Journal of American History 82, no. 3 (December 1995): 947; and Jack Forbes, Black Africans and Native Americans: Color, Race, and Caste in the Evolution of Red-Black Peoples (New York: Basil Blackwell Inc., 1988), 61.
(10.) Forbes, Black Africans, 61.
(11.) Forbes, Black Africans, 61; and Nash, "Hidden History," 951.
(12.) Thomas C. Patterson, "Early Colonial Encounters and Identities in the Caribbean: A Review of Some Recent Works and Their Implications," Dialectical Anthropology 16 (1991): 7; Forbes, 61; and Nicolas Leon, "Las castas del Mexico colonial o Nueva Espania," Noticias etno-antropologicas 1 (1924): 7.
(13.) Kenneth W. Porter, "Negroes and Indians on the Texas Frontier," reprinted in The Negro on the American Frontier(New York: New York Times and Arno Press, 1971), 15; Magnus Morner, Race Mixture in the History of Latin America (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1967), cited in Forbes, Black Africans, 182.
(14.) Forbes, Black Africans, 184.
(15.) Leon, Las castas, 9-11; Forbes, Black Africans, 184-86.
(16.) Spanish Archives of New Mexico, Twitchell numbers 914, 1094, 1684, 1723, 1761, 2437, 2704, microfilm, Center for Southwest Research (CSWR), Zimmerman Library, University of New Mexico, Albuquerque.
(17.) Porter, "Negroes and Indians," 28.
(18.) Jack D. Forbes, Apache, Navaho, and Spaniard, (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1960), 76.
(19.) Forbes, Apache, 135, 138-39.
(20.) Forbes, Apache, 162.
(21.) Fray Angelico Chavez, "Pohe-Yemo's Representative and the Pueblo Revolt of 1680," New Mexico Historical Review 42, no. 2 (April 1967): 85-126; quote from 89.
(22.) Stefanie Beninato, "Pope, Pose-yemu, and Naranjo: A New Look at Leadership in the Pueblo Revolt of 1680," New Mexico Historical Review 65, no. 4 (October 1990): 417-35.
(23.) Forbes, Black Africans, 186.
(24.) Forbes, Black Africans, 161.
(25.) Antonio de Otermin, "Autos Drawn Up as a Result of the Rebellion of the Christian Indians, Santa Fe, 9 August 1680," in Revolt of the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico and Otermin's Attempted Reconquest, 1680-1682, vol. 1, ed. Charles Wilson Hackett, trans. Charmion Clair Shelby (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1942), 5.
(26.) Letter of Andres Lopez de Gracia to don Bartolome de Estrada, 29 August 1680, in Hackett and Shelby, Revolt of the Pueblo Indians, vol. 1, 46-47.
(27.) "Auto of Antonio de Otermin," Hacienda of Luis de Carbajal, 24 December 1681, and "Auto for the Conclusion of the Opinions of the Junta," Place opposite La Isleta, 1 January 1682, in Hacker and Shelby, Revolt of the Pueblo Indians, vol. 1,338, 354-55.
(28.) Archivo General de la Nacion (AGN), Inquisicion, Legajo 372, photostat copies, CSWR. From transcriptions by France V. Scholes, "The First Decade of the Inquisition in New Mexico," New Mexico Historical Review 10, no. 3 (July 1935): 195-241, transcriptions in appendix, 230-32.
(29.) John L. Kessell, "New Mexico History," (course at University of New Mexico, Albuquerque, 22 February 1996).
(30.) Forbes, Black Africans, 165.
(31.) AGN-Inquisicion, Legajo 304, from Scholes transcriptions, 239-41.
(32.) Spanish Archives of New Mexico, microfilm reel 9, frames 325-36, CSWR.
(33.) Forbes, Black Africans, 61-63.
(34.) Both quotes from Nash, "Hidden History," 947.
(35.) Fray Angelico Chavez, New Mexico Roots, Ltd., CSWR.
(36.) Diligencias Matrimoniales, Nuestra Senora del Paso del Rio del Norte Record Group, boxes 90-94, Spanish and Mexican Manuscript Collection, Catholic Archives of Texas (CAT), Austin.
(37.) Scholes, First Decade, 228.
(38.) Quoted in Gutierrez, When Jesus Came, 103.
(39.) Spanish Colonial Census of New Mexico, 1750, in Spanish and Mexican Censuses of New Mexico, 1750-1830 compiler Virginia Langham Olmsted (Albuquerque: New Mexico Genealogical Society, 1981), 75-87. Originals from photostat copies, Biblioteca Nacional, Legajo 8, Parte 4, CSWR.
(40.) Malcolm Ebright, Land Grants and Lawsuits in Northern New Mexico (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994), 146-47.
(41.) Marriages, Archives of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe (AASF), microfilm reel 26, frame 187, CSWR.
(42.) Gutierrez, When Jesus Came, 196.
(43.) Leon, Las castas, 5.
(44.) Leon, Las castas, 31-32.
(45.) Nash, "Hidden History," 952-53.
(46.) Nash, "Hidden History," 952-53.
(47.) Quoted in Nash, "Hidden History," 953.
(48.) Leon, Las castas, 9.
(49.) Father Juan Agustin de Morfi, "Account of Disorders, 1778," in Coronado's Land: Essays on Daily Life in Colonial New Mexico, ed. Marc Simmons (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1991), 127-161, especially 148-51.
(50.) Don Pedro Baptista Pino, The Exposition on the Province of New Mexico, 1812, trans. and ed. Adrian Bustamante and Marc Simmons (Santa Fe and Albuquerque: El Rancho de las Golondrinas and the University of New Mexico Press, 1995), 40.
(51.) Rosalinda Lucero interview, Isleta Pueblo, Pueblo Transcripts, American Indian Oral History Collection, reel 7, tape no. 604, p. 12, CSWR.
(52.) Tillie Decker, interviewed by Pat Gregory, 8 July 1969, San Juan Pueblo, Pueblo Transcripts, American Indian Oral History Collection, reel 10, tape no. 230, p. 19, CSWR.
(53.) Works surveyed include J. J. Brody, Anasazi and Pueblo Painting (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press for the School of American Research, 1991); The Zunis: Self-PortrayaLs, by the Zuni People, trans. Alvina Quam (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1972); Frank Hamilton Cushing, Zuni Folk Tales; Polly Schaafsma, ed., Kachinas in the Pueblo Worm (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1994).
(54.) Rhett S. Jones, "Social-Scientific Perspectives on the Afro-American Arts," Black American Literature Forum 20, no. 4 (Winter 1986), 443-447, quote from 444.
(55.) Forbes's works include several articles that gained inclusion in his 1988 book Black Africans and Native Americans. These articles include "Mustees, Half-breeds and Zambos in Anglo North America: Aspects of Black-Indian Relations," American Indian Quarterly 7, no. 1 (1983), 57--83; "Mulattoes and People of Color in Anglo-North America: Implications for Black Indian Relations," Journal of Ethnic Studies 12, no. 2 (1984), 17-61; and "The Use of the Terms `Negro' and `Black' to Include Persons of Native American Ancestry in `Anglo' North America," Explorations in Ethnic Studies 7, no. 2 (1984), 11-26.
(56.) Daniel J. Littlefieid Jr.'s books include Africans and Creeks from the Colonial Period to the Civil War(Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1976); Africans and Seminoles: From Removal to Emancipation (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1977); and The Cherokee Freedmen: From Emancipation to American Citizenship (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1978). See also Kevin Mulroy, Freedom on the Border: The Seminole Maroons in Florida, the Indian Territory, Coahuila, and Texas (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 1993); Theda Perdue, Slavery and the Evolution of Cherokee Society, 1540-1866 (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1979); and William G. McLoughlin, Cherokees and Missionaries, 1 789-1839 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984).
(57.) Rebecca B. Bateman, "Africans and Indians: A Comparative Study of the Black Carib and Black Seminole," Ethnohistory 37, no. 1 (Winter 1990): 1-24, quote from 1.
(58.) Jan Carew, "United We Stand! Joint straggles of Native Americans and African Americans in the Columbian Era," Monthly Review 44, no. 3 (1992): 103-27, quote from 125.
(59.) Elizabeth Brandt and Christopher MacCrate, "'Make Like Seem Heep Injin': Pidginization in the Southwest," Ethnohistory 29, no. 3 (1982): 201-20, quotes from 209, 217.
(60.) Mary Ellison, "Black Perceptions and Red Images: Indian and Black Literary Links," Phylon 44, no. 1 (1983): 44-55, quote from 48.
(61.) Patterson, "Early Colonial Encounters," 7.
Dedra S. McDonald is a doctoral candidate at the University of New Mexico. She specializes in the history of women in the American West and in the history of the Spanish-Mexican borderlands. Her dissertation focuses on poor working women in the Spanish colonial and Mexican borderlands, 1700-1860. She is the compiler of Guide to the Spanish and Mexican Manuscripts Collection at the Catholic Archives of Texas.
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|Title Annotation:||Indian-Black Relations in Historical and Anthropological Perspective|
|Author:||McDonald, Dedra S.|
|Publication:||The American Indian Quarterly|
|Date:||Jan 1, 1998|
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