The Complexion of Black Society
Urban society offers more fertile ground for social conflict than the countryside ever can. Its internal divisions result equally from authorities' strategies of divide and conquer and from the beliefs of the varying actors involved in this process. The city offers more opportunities for internal differentiation than the countryside, both because of its complex social relations and because of its organization of labor.
A society is never homogeneous in a racial, cultural, social, or economic sense. As the criteria to determine and shape segregation develop, they define not only how persons will interact but also what form society will take. The black population found in segregation by skin color a means of conscious opposition to the dominant white sector and a mechanism of individual and collective survival. Slave and free black populations developed hierarchies and perceptions that differentiated darker-skinned blacks from lighter individuals, poorer from richer, and free blacks from slaves. In Lima, as in other places, ethnic diversity among blacks and differences in social status explain the absence of slave revolts (Karasch 1987, 325), or of revolts by all blacks against the domination of whites.
At the bottom of the black social pyramid were the bozales , newly arrived from Africa. They were the group least touched by the criollo experience; white owners preferred them for their docility. Even the criollo blacks who had lived in the colonial territory for some time described bozales as less refined. General Miller, who wrote his memoirs in 1829, noted that "the black criollo believes himself superior to his brother brought from Africa." At the apex of this pyramid were the quarterones or quinterones , who thought of themselves as white and had the greatest chances of obtaining freedom. Lighter-skinned women were the ones most likely to marry mestizos or whites.
The lot of bozales was not enviable. Those who survived the high mortality rate of the Atlantic trade to be unloaded at their port of destination were handed over to the representative of slave asentistas (who held long-term contracts from the Crown to buy or sell goods or services) or, barring their presence, to the boat's captain.[3] Eventually, slaves were transferred to the port's barracones , where the conditions were often more horrifying than those on the boat; many slaves took their last breath here. The survivors were taken from quarantine in the barracones to a central location where they were grouped according to size, physical condition, and gender. They underwent a medical examination so that a report about their health and skills could be written up; the objective was to appraise them and classify their respective duty payments. This process, referred to as palmeo —literally, measuring by hands—culminated with the sear of an iron brand that served as permanent proof that all slaves had been brought into the country legally. Sometimes this procedure was repeated with the asentista 's emblem in order to prevent the theft of slaves before they were sold. Once these formalities were concluded, blacks were ready for sale. Petty merchants from near and far came to the marketplace; slaves would accompany them on yet another journey to their final destination: house, hacienda, trade, mine, or textile mill (Rout 1977, 69 ff.).
This process fragmented the identity of black inhabitants. First, violent removal from the natal environment and subsequent encounters with men and women belonging to different African cultures weakened a slave's chance for communication with other human beings. Next, dispersal of the slaves to different units of production in the colonial territory brought them face to face with other Africans and with an additional network of laborers from distinct and equally dis-
parate origins: indigenous and casta . The dual rupture required, as a response, the recreation of lost social spaces. The more fortunate bozales were those who remained in the urban environment. The city, more than the countryside, offered a realm where slaves might keep any social contacts established during the passage, and whatever they still held of their African identity and culture. A particular tribal group might predominate on the transatlantic journey; the preservation of these ties would ease the reordering of slaves' social space in the new setting. Reorganization along tribal lines could take a long time. During this process many slaves joined cofradías , where members could worship a particular saint within their cultural and ethnic traditions. The cofradías fulfilled a broader social function in helping blacks reconstruct their identity. But even within the refuge of family relations or cofradías , conflicts always beset the process, intrinsic conflicts that hampered collective endeavors. Through an examination of incidents within the cofradías and (in chapter 4) of matrimonial strife, we observe the different levels of conflict that simultaneously expressed notions of hierarchy—in class, ethnicity, and gender—within black society at large.
In 1615 there were fifteen cofradías in Lima, while in the rest of the viceregal territory, the black presence in cities and towns was so low that the creation of other cofradías was not warranted. Until approximately 1630, cofradías received any and all blacks; twenty years later we find that three groups existed, differentiated by skin color. The first rupture occurred between criollo ladinos and bozales . The former had learned Spanish and were familiar with Spanish customs. They insisted on breaking away from the black bozales . The second rupture arose between mulatos and criollo ladinos and resulted from the pressures of a third black generation that had established sexual and matrimonial alliances with women from the indigenous population. The monopolization of power within the cofradías by whiter mulatos paralleled their increasingly superior placement in other arenas of society. These ruptures slowly transformed the cofradía into an institution that housed a black elite (Bowser 1977, 307–311). Almost always the most visible manifestations of internal rupture were racial; racial tensions accompanied any competition over jobs within black society.[4]
The social and individual function of the cofradías , as well as the relations between owners and cofradías , are illustrated in the account of the traveler Stevenson:
In the suburbs of San Lázaro are cofradías or clubs belonging to the different castes or nations of the Africans, where they hold their meetings in a very orderly manner, generally on a Sunday afternoon; and if any of the royal family belonging to the respective nation is to be found in the city, he or she is called the King or Queen of the cofradía , and treated with every mark of respect. I was well acquainted with a family in Lima, in which there was an old female slave who had lived with them for upwards of fifty years, and who was the acknowledged Queen of the Mandingos, she being, according to their statement, a princess. On particular days she was conducted from the house of her master by a number of black people, to the cofradía , dressed as gaudily as possible; for this purpose her young mistresses would lend her jewels to a considerable amount, besides which the poor old woman was bedizened with a profusion of artificial flowers, feathers and other ornaments. Her master had provided her a silver sceptre, and this necessary appendage of royalty was on such occasions always carried by her. It has often gratified my best feelings, when Mama Rosa was seated on the porch of her master's house to see her subjects come and kneel before her, to ask her blessing and kiss her hand. I have followed them to the cofradía and have seen her majesty seated on her throne, and go through the ceremony of royalty without a blush....
The walls of the cofradías are ornamented with likenesses in fresco of the different royal personages who have belonged to them. The purpose of the institution is to help those to good masters, who have been so unfortunate as to meet with bad ones; but as a master can object to selling his slave, unless he proves by law that he has been cruelly treated, which is very difficult or next to impossible, the cofradías raise a fund by contributions, and free the slave, to which the master cannot object; but this slave now becomes tacitly the slave of the cofradía and must return by installments the money paid for his manumission.[5]
Indoctrination and religion certainly did not cease to be the central objectives of the cofradía , but shortly after their diffusion into the New World cofradías also assumed a social role and were helping to liberate slaves from their owners, advancing money for manumission or mediating as the slaves searched for a new owner, extending credit for the most abused and discouraged members of the slave population, and serving as a temporary refuge. At the same time cofradías became a cultural emporium for the black population's most privileged sector and imitated the larger society's dominant layers, which in turn often supported these associations. This support often led owners to loan clothes and jewels and to attend the ceremonies as spectators. But many other slaves chose not to turn to the cofradías . An almost end-
less litigation filed by slaves in their quest for freedom did not mention the intermediation of cofradías or note the case of any liemeño hacienda slave who knocked at the door of a cofradía .
Despite the attractions of their elite status within black society, cofradías also reproduced within their ranks the divisions of black society. In theory each cofradía corresponded to one African ethnic group and excluded the rest but in practice racial justification often meant that the whitest among the blacks occupied the highest posts in a cofradía 's internal hierarchy, or economic motive made the richest into creditors for its needier members. Above all, cofradías accommodated the master-slave relation. They came to function as a parallel judicial system; owners could turn to the associations not only to purchase new slaves but also to request that their slaves be punished for robbery, idleness, cursing, or running away (Bastide 1969, 90). For owners, an additional advantage of their intermediation was that owners could occasionally avoid the lengthy petitions and high costs of official court litigation.
Cofradías exist today and still have an essentially black complexion. We find cofradías described by travelers at the beginning of the nineteenth century, by which time racial splits seem to have subsided, perhaps because slaves had more possibilities of moving up the social ladder without becoming white. At this point different criteria began to determine the occupant of a cofradía post: the preoccupation with pigmentation gave way to a more intense interest in legal status. As these positions carried power both in ecclesiastical and social realms—age and legal status, or rather, experience and seniority came to be perceived as central characteristics for the leaders of cofradías .
Even the mulato elite, which had the resources to manumit a slave so that he or she could escape from a bad owner or to finance the festivities that the cofradía life-style implied, also tried—albeit timidly—to secure positions of control. The hierarchies within the cofradía were expressed visually in the physical placement of the brothers and sisters in reunions (Fuentes 1866, 83). Members avidly maintained these internal hierarchies, even at the cost of having to resort to white judicial intermediation. A sequence of events that began in 1812 with the death of the queen of the Congos-Mondongos cofradía illustrates the shift from criteria based primarily on color or tribal affiliation to ones based on legal standing.
In accordance with the traditions and customs of the Congos-Mondongos cofradía , the successor to the queen should have already occupied the post of the queen's captain-assistant. Being the captainassistant implied considerable expenditures, as it was this person's charge to finance the cofradía 's festivities and events. In fact, these payments had more weight than putative or bona fide descent from an African king or prince (which Stevenson suggests), and the privilege of becoming queen or king could be bought. However, in 1812 the Congos-Mondongos cofradía (consisting of twenty-nine persons), in opposition to this unwritten law, divided over the question of the throne's successor. The majority opted not to elect the present captain-assistant but another queen who had one decisive attribute: she was free. In response to this decision on the part of the cofradía 's members, María Santos Puente, the dethroned, presented an appeal before the civil court in order to protest what she perceived to be a divestiture of her authority:
On the grounds of being a member of the Congos-Mondongos cofradía , I declare that I have been the queen's captain and assistant for twenty-five years with the hope of being successor to her post, because the deceased queen promised me as much, in front of witnesses ... and additionally I paid the funeral costs, without any other motive than anticipation of the promised recompense. In the meantime I supplicate that in the name of justice the post be given to me, or that the money I spent be returned to me.
A few days later, María requested that several of her witnesses be interrogated in accordance with a questionnaire she had presented. The witnesses, seven in all, responded affirmatively to the following question: "State if it is true that examples exist of others of the nation who being slaves just as I, have been elected queen; that due to an unjust mishap, the queenship was rashly taken from me and given to Manuela who is free."
María Santos was aware of the reason for her removal and was relying upon the cofradía 's traditions in order to reclaim the post of queen. At this point there was a long abeyance in the trial. The public prosecutor stated:
This silence, for the interested party as much as for the other individuals in the cofradía and group, who are inventing the farce of the election of a queen (which might perhaps be of importance to them) causes the responding minister to think that this is not a case of law and private interests but pertains
rather to the public order and the preservation of the customs and practices that these blacks are permitted, and in whose possession they should remain provided the public peace not be offended.[6]
Since the minister no longer knew if what he had in his hands was a farce or a case concerning the public order, he appealed to the cofradía 's own traditions that had until now guaranteed the public peace. Nonetheless, the votes of the cofradía 's members went against tradition. The result of the elections, after this run-around in the official courts, was twenty-one votes for and seven against the free queen. No one returned the invested money to María, the deposed captainassistant. The dream of becoming queen had left her penniless. Instead of purchasing freedom with her money, she had financed the cofradía and kept its hierarchy and structure intact. This defeat was not only a legal loss. Settling this controversy of succession cost the cofradía approximately half of the contributions that María claimed she had made over the past twenty-five years. According to her, her expenditures had reached ninety-two pesos—at a rate of four pesos a year—an amount that the elected queen was supposed to return to her, in addition to sixteen pesos "for taking to the streets the standard of the nation, with nine more pesos for the price and release of a barrow."
The breach of long-standing traditions at once reveals more intense yearnings and greater chances for freedom that existed. Substantial support for these desires was slaves' ability to earn daily wages and to save a portion of them. By 1859 the Congos-Mondongos cofradía had been abandoned, and the Merced convent, which had declared itself proprietor, was embroiled in a judicial dispute over the site. Moreover, there was no queen.[7] In 1866 sixteen cofradías , each affiliated with an African tribe, were still recorded (Fuentes 1866, 83), but over the course of time the cofradías —as the institution of slavery declined—lost their social function for slaves and their disciplinary usefulness for owners. Long before slavery was abolished, the black population's core institution had shifted its priorities.
Seen in this manner, the changing visions within the cofradías reflected one facet of the black population's perception of itself, a facet that escaped Stevenson: he depicted poor creatures with pretensions of royalty. In a context in which blacks could obtain freedom relatively easily, there was no reason to choose a slave queen. Consistent with
broader political and social changes, Lima's blacks were willing to throw aside long-held customs. Perhaps the increasing presence of free blacks also made cofradía members feel more represented by a free queen. Times had changed and everyone had observed the events in the Congo-Mondongos cofradía . More concretely, the value that participants in the election put on the status of freedom undoubtedly influenced slaves' decisions to accumulate and to try out their own variants on the association's message.
Similar antagonisms would express themselves in another type of organization: the guild, in which the black and casta populations predominated. Some guilds were formed exclusively by people of color. When the mayoral guild election of carriage-makers and handbarrowcarriers took place in Lima in 1774, the bozales made it known that they did not wish to be controlled by an "enemy," which was their label for the criollo who was its leader. In retribution, the criollos accused the bozales of "a callous spirit and lack of obedience." Additionally, the criollos portrayed the bozales as inept for labor because of their "clumsiness and lack of reason and conduct." As in other guilds where similar quarrels had occurred, the solution to this concrete problem was to name two mayors: one a bozal , the other a criollo (Romero 1980, 22). In contrast to what happened in the cofradías , which excluded entire groups of blacks from official positions, the guild kept its occupational exclusion by dividing internal governance along racial lines.
In a more general sense, the criteria used to establish social relations were ethnicity, wealth, and legal status. Beyond the events within the Congos-Mondongos cofradía and the guilds, smaller-scale incidents embodied the tensions in society. Scuffles and street brawls between blacks, confrontations between neighbors, small purchases in corner shops, or broken street lamps could all bring about strings of epithets. And the worst insult was one that invoked a racial or economic condition inferior to that purported. In one such altercation, a woman named La Camacho called an acquaintance (a man who was perhaps more than a simple acquaintance) "a big black mule, and fists were drawn." Immediately, "La Camacho, [who] was a zamba by self-description, quarreled with the black mule's lover." Matters ended when the lover bit a finger off La Camacho's hand.[8] More than a few defamation trials were litigated and more than one angry black was presented with a hospital invoice for an amputated finger. However,
what underlay all these seemingly insignificant quarrels were the deeply entrenched notions of hierarchy that prevailed among blacks. They were more than skin-deep.
On a different plane, social distances and hierarchies were also expressed in the city's geography and its slaves' work there.