Estudios Sociales
Año 55, Vol. XLV-Número 167
Enero-junio 2023
1872 Slave Registry for Mayagüez, Puerto
Rico: An Analysis
Registro de esclavos de 1872 para Mayagüez, Puerto Rico: un análisis
Registre des esclaves de 1872 pour Mayagüez, Porto Rico: une analyse
Rigoberto Andino
Abstract
This article examines the 1872 slave registry for Mayagüez, Puerto Rico. The 1872 slave registry is a document compiled before the formal emancipation of slavery in 1873. This analysis, unlike previous ones, explores the categories in the registry that arguably provide a glimpse of the kinds of cash crops grown in this municipality. The categories examined include kinship ties (marriage and children), manumission status (courtacion), geographical location (ward, neighborhood (barrio), or jurisdiction) and filiation (age, origin, sex, and somatic characteristics or phenotype). What is different from previous studies that review a portion of the 1872 slave registry is that it considers the number of slaves held or owned by individual slave holders/owners. In this analysis slave holdings frame the relationship between geographical location and commodity production. Spatial location and
* Sociólogo puertorriqueño.
OCIRD: 0009-0006-9659-4457
Afiliación, Borough of Manhattan Community College, CUNY, Department of
Ethnic and Race Studies
Email address randino@bmcc.cuny.edu
the size of slave holdings contribute to what this article contends shapes the geography of commodity production in nineteenth century Mayagüez, Puerto Rico.
Keywords: slavery, Puerto Rico, liberation, slave records
Resumen
Este artículo examina el registro de esclavos de 1872 para Mayagüez, Puerto Rico. El registro de esclavos de 1872 es un documento compilado antes de la emancipación formal de la esclavitud en 1873. Este análisis, a diferencia de los anteriores, explora las categorías en el registro que posiblemente brindan una idea de los tipos de cultivos comerciales cultivados en este municipio. Las categorías examinadas incluyen lazos de parentesco (matrimonio e hijos), estado de manumisión (courtacion), ubicación geográfica (distrito, barrio o jurisdicción) y filiación (edad, origen, sexo y características somáticas o fenotípicas). Lo que es diferente de estudios previos que revisan una parte del registro de esclavos de 1872 es que considera el número de esclavos en poder o propiedad de propietarios/ poseedores de esclavos individuales. En este análisis, las tenencias de esclavos enmarcan la relación entre la ubicación geográfica y la producción de mercancías. La ubicación espacial y el tamaño de las propiedades de los esclavos contribuyen a lo que este artículo sostiene da forma a la geografía de la producción de mercancías en el siglo XIX en Mayagüez, Puerto Rico.
Palabras claves: esclavitud, Puerto Rico, liberación, registros de esclavos
Résumé
Cet article examine le registre des esclaves de 1872 pour Mayagüez, Porto Rico. Le registre des esclaves de 1872 est un document compilé avant l’émancipation formelle de l’esclavage en 1873. Cette analyse, contrairement aux précédentes, explore les catégories du registre qui peuvent donner un aperçu des types de cultures commerciales cultivées dans cette municipalité.
Les catégories examinées comprennent les liens de parenté (mariage et enfants), le statut d’émancipation (courtacion), la localisation géographique (quartier, quartier ou juridiction) et l’affiliation (âge, origine, sexe et caractéristiques somatiques ou phénotypiques). Ce qui diffère des études précédentes examinant une partie du registre des esclaves de 1872, c’est qu’il considère le nombre d’esclaves détenus ou possédés par des propriétaires/propriétaires d’esclaves individuels. Dans cette analyse, les exploitations d’esclaves encadrent la relation entre la localisation géographique et la production de marchandises. L’emplacement spatial et la taille des exploitations d’esclaves contribuent à ce que cet article soutient façonne la géographie de la production de marchandises à Mayagüez, à Porto Rico, au XIXe siècle.
Mots-clés : esclavage, Porto Rico, libération, registres des esclaves
This article examines the 1872 slave registry for Mayagüez, Puerto Rico. The 1872 slave registry is a document compiled before the formal emancipation of slavery in 1873. This analysis, unlike previous ones, explores the categories in the registry that arguably provide a glimpse of the kinds of cash crops grown in this municipality. The categories examined include kinship ties (marriage and children), manumission status (courtacion), geographical location (ward, neighborhood –barrio–, or jurisdiction) and filiation (age, origin, sex, and somatic characteristics or phenotype). What is different from previous studies that review a portion of the 1872 slave registry is that it considers the number of slaves held or owned by individual slave holders/owners. In this analysis slave holdings[1] frame the relationship between geographical location and commodity production. Spatial location and the size of slave holdings contribute to what this article contends shapes the geography of commodity production in nineteenth century Mayagüez, Puerto Rico.
There are several reasons why the review of the 1872 slave registry for Mayagüez is relevant. One main reason is that it highlights the diverse relationship between space and the possible areas where commodity production might have taken place and where it probably did not. Using Lefebvre’s notion of social space as a social product, the registry illustrates how slave holdings and the types of labor duties performed by the enslaved illustrate the segmenting and cross-sectioning of space in nineteenth century Mayagüez. In addition, one can argue that the registry provides evidence of how enslaved labor and how it was distributed geographically was part of a polyvalence of the social production of nineteenth century Mayagüez.
The development of the social space of Mayagüez was shaped by a series of dynamic forces. They made it the third largest sugar producing precinct on the island in the nineteenth century. Being the third largest sugar producer on the island was not possible without the various social relations that made it possible. For instance, the development of the township of Mayagüez was shaped by the social relations of property, means and or mode of production, a division of labor, networks of trade, and market forces. The locus of this analysis is the 1872 slave registry which features an enslaved labor force that functioned as both a means and mode of production. The social relations of slave labor are captured in the registry via the name of the “slave” and the “name of the owner”. This master and slave relationship is the bedrock that structured enslaved labor as both a means and mode of production. Moreover, the registry illustrates the central theme of this analysis which is that there was a geography of commodity production[2] that was shaped by the size of the slave holdings in the township.
Methodologically, the analysis is based primarily on the 1872 slave registry for Mayagüez. It also takes into consideration secondary literature that both covers the registry and the historical development of the township. As part of the historical development of the township, the island was involved in slavery, the production of coffee, fruits, sugar cane and its byproducts. The analysis, unlike previous studies, examines the variant features in the registry but it does it in a manner that privileges labor and its spatial location. To maintain brevity the article takes the historic transition of the township from a village to a city as a given. Additionally, it considers this transition to be a spatial consequence of the so-called process of primitive accumulation. It was colonialism and slavery that, over time, altered the natural characteristics of what Lefebvre3 called fragments of absolute space such as arable lands, mountainsides, and coastal areas into spaces of extortion, plunder, pillage, and labor exploitation on the island. This arguably contributed to the expansion of wealth and material expansion that helped shape the urban development of Puerto Rico in the nineteenth century. The registry provides a glimpse of a colonized slave society engaged in commodity production for the global capitalist economy in the nineteenth century.
This exposition centered on the 1872 slave registry for Mayagüez begins by reviewing the geographical composition of the township. This overview introduces the topographical backdrop of the township. Mayagüez’s panoramic land-forms, such as ravines, waterways, and mountains, constitute a concrete spatial dynamic that Lefebvre alluded to. In terms of concrete space, it is significant in how it shifted when the plantation complex became a vital part of the township’s landscape. The term “plantation complex”4 is used here be-
production for the cultivation of cash crops epitomizes the development of a geography of commodity production.
3 Henri Lefebvre, The Production of Space (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1991).
4 The concept “plantation complex” is borrowed from Philip D. Curtin, The
Rise and Fall of the Plantation Complex: Essays in Atlantic History (Cambridge:
cause Mayagüez had a mixed agricultural economy that was dominated at times by either coffee or sugar cane production. The proliferation of the plantation system created socio-economic relations that socially produced the abstract space of Mayagüez. Furthermore, the plantation complex was characterized by the polyvalence of social relations associated with the slave mode of production. As the slave mode of production was defined, the categories in the registry encapsulated the abstraction of Mayagüez of the nineteenth century.5
As an abstraction of space, the review of the registry briefly highlights the natal background of the enslaved. The enslaved in the registry are emblematic of social actors or agents who played a vital role in the production of a particular social space. Most of the slaves in Mayagüez’ social space were Creoles or born in various parts of the island. As will be shown later, this partially explains how Puerto Rico’s participation in the importation of slave labor was very minor compared to Cuba in the nineteenth century. This expose also highlights how the ethno-racial and gender makeup of the enslaved shaped the spatial demarcation of commodity production at the time. These significant aspects of the registry illustrate the profiling of each individual slave and their apparent connection to socio-economic and social realities that shaped the landscape of slave labor. Yet, this reality seems to have been ignored or taken as a given by other scholars who reviewed the registry.
Most of the fields in the registry, in an “a posteriori” fashion highlight, to one degree or another, the relationship between space and slave labor. When one observes this significant source of data one can observe where exactly most of the
Cambridge University Press, 1990), Ira Berlin and Philip D. Morgan, The Slaves’ Economy: Independent Production by Slaves in the Americas (London: Frank
Cass, 1991) who argue that enslaved people produced commodities in a variety of plantation economies that were characterized by agricultural production of cash crops primarily for export. For the purposes of this article, the term plantation complex includes all sorts of agricultural production (i.e., small, medium, and large) that utilized enslaved labor and any form of forced/coerced labor.
5 The premise of Mayagüez being an abstract space is borrowed from Lefebvre, The Production of Space.... Lefebvre argues that absolute-concrete space becomes abstract via economic and social relationships.
commodity production was taking place in the municipality. More importantly, one can discern from the data that slavery was on the decline. Scholars like Nistal-Moret[3] who initially reviewed, as Mayo Santana and Negrón[4] claimed, up to 41%, or roughly 12,512 slaves of the estimated 30,500 recorded in the slave registry argued that the institution of slavery at the time was on a decline. Comparing census data beginning in the 1870s, Nistal-Moret highlighted the gradual decline in the slave population on the island and argued that the 1872 slave registry served “as a numerical base for the administrative and juridical decisions” of the emancipation of slavery in 1873.
Nistal-Moret’s evaluation of the registry covered rich details about slave life such as marital status, kinship ties, manumission, age, sex, color, slave origin and occupation. All these elements were “things in space, or pieces of space” described by Nistal-Moret.[5] They were “part-spaces that were carved out for inspection from the social space of Puerto Rico.”[6] Following Nistal-Moret, Mayo Santana and Negrón Portillo similarly replicated in their study using the 1872 slave registry an offering of a geographical, ethnological, and a demographic space that shaped the sedimentary layers of social relations in the period.
Mayo Santana and Negrón Portillo, in one of their studies, focused exclusively on the township of San Juan, Puerto Rico. In their pursuit, they were able to extract several key details that defined the sediments that were left behind by history. These details were defined by the accumulation of data that could be quantified. These quantifiable qualities of the space of 1872 San Juan were specific to the larger space of Puerto Rico. Their analysis showed that San Juan’s qualities were slightly different from those of the larger slave precincts on the island. What was clear in their study was the importance of San Juan as an urban center. The geographical emphasis coincided with the claim that unlike other municipalities on the island the enslaved in San Juan were performing duties that primarily could be considered urban slave labor. Their case study overview of the registry for San Juan echoed some of the same issues explored by Nistal-Moret.
In another recent study, Mayo Santana, and Negrón Portillo[7] explored slave precincts in the interior of the island as part of their analysis of the slave registry. Among the small places analyzed were Cayey, Coamo, Barranquitas, Utuado, Cidra, etc., where the occupations, age, gender, and family organization of the enslaved were analyzed. None of these municipality-driven case studies examined the relationship between space, labor, and the type of commodity produced in each of the slave precincts in Puerto Rico. This claim takes into consideration that many of these analyses do highlight the relationship between labor and sugar or coffee production in the precincts. However, what appears to be missing is the spatial dynamic as an aspect of the geography of commodity production. The registry lends itself to illustrate the various parts or micro-spaces that shape each space. In this respect, this study differs from earlier studies that focused on a particular slave precinct or a set of municipalities in the registry.
This analysis embarks on a journey of reviewing approximately 2,570 enslaved individuals of African descent. The analysis looks at the various entries as partial explanations of 1872 Mayagüez. Moreover, a major aim of this study is to determine slave labor’s spatial distribution in relation to its spatial specificity. It is the ultimate goal to highlight the “parts extra parts” or the parts and subdivisions that compose Mayagüez’s plantation economy. The registry allows for a detailed analysis of the parts, the division of labor and the modes of production that covered Mayagüez’s landscape.
The registry provides many details about individual slaves and simultaneously frames the spatial panorama of the township compared to other demographic systems that tracked enslaved people during the period. For example, the registry illustrates a more robust overview of the relationship between the enslaved and the villages, communities, or barrios they socially produced. The specific entry in the registry that illustrates a scaffolding of slave labor is the field of “empadronado” or “registered to.” This field details where exactly the enslaved worked and possibly lived. Additionally, the fields of “registered to” and “profession” together demonstrate how the various modes of slave labor underscore the spatial demarcation of the township that was typical of colonial societies that were engaged in commodity production. In analyzing those fields, this study attempts to emphasize spatial demarcation as one characteristic of commodity production in this township.
Apparently, the field of “registered to” has been ignored in other studies. For example, in their township-driven analyses, Negrón Portillo and Mayo Santana as well as Nistal-Moret[8] did not emphasize this aspect. In this study, the field of “registered to” is integral and elemental to the spatial understanding of the distribution of slaveholdings, gender, and racial classifications used to describe the enslaved listed in the registry. Other fields, such as “age” analyzed in this study only provide a profile of this enslaved body. For example, the age distribution of the slave population shows that the plantations were primarily populated by young slaves at the time.
Another significant field contained in the registry that is significant is the field of “profession”. The field of “profession” frames the production of space and its delineation vis-à-vis the kind of labor duties the enslaved performed. The field illustrates the fact that Mayagüez was a site of labor exploitation via the process of primitive accumulation. Lefebvre calls the development of this form of place an accumulation of space wherein fixed labor used for the production of commodities and other labor duties was front and center. The expropriation of the surplus value of this fixed labor form was a particular social process in which the abstraction of labor took place.[9] The registry illustrates this process of the accumulation of space and how it was demarcated via a division of labor. For example, the registry illustrates that enslaved were assigned labor duties such as bakers, seamstress, gardener, bricklayer, field labor, etc. The majority of these labor forms, sans field labor, have been classified as “urban slave labor.” The classification of these forms of labor (professions) appears to allude to a particular social production of space that is urban in nature. Unfortunately, when you take into consideration the “registered to” field the perception of an “urban” social space falls apart.
Nevertheless, while some of the enslaved were listed as performing urban labor duties, the location where they were “registered to” was not in the township’s urban sector. Interestingly, the majority of these enslaved people listed as urban laborers were “registered to” “spaces of accumulation” or the periphery of the township. A large portion of the slaves in the registry were registered in the rural, coastal, or semi-coastal, mountainous regions of the municipality. The social spaces were peripheral only in relation to the concentrical aspect of the township as an urban center or center of accumulation. Despite the registry showing that Mayagüez had a significant amount of its enslaved population performing a variety of urban labor professions those forms of labor were taking place primarily in the periphery. In other words, urban labor was primarily taking place on plantations and or small farms where commodity production was taking place. In contrast to places such as San Juan, Puerto Rico, and other parts of the Atlantic Slave System, like Peru and Mexico, where enslaved people worked as carpenters, domestics, etc., in an urban setting, Mayagüez’s slaves did not work in an urban social milieu. It is fair to say that the slave registry of 1872 for Mayagüez indicates that Mayagüez’s economy was largely dominated by the plantation complex.
The social space of the plantation complex shaped the social relations of enslaved labor. However, it also included the often ignored plantation owners or holders who contributed to the formation of pockets of spaces of accumulation. These were the agents of exploitation and oppression of enslaved labor. This key equation, in an unspoken manner, is found in the registry. This analysis takes into account the field in the registry that displays slave owners or holders. Both slave holders and the field of “registered to” emphasize the geography of commodity production in Mayagüez. The field of slave holders structures the plantation complex via the size and distribution of the slave population and the type of work performed. The distribution of the slave population is structured by fields that describe slave backgrounds (creole versus foreign), age, gender, and racial characteristics (color, phenotype, somatic features).
These categories recorded in the registry illustrate a significant aspect of the geographical distribution of the plantation complex. As will be discussed later in a more detailed fashion the geographical distribution of slave labor partially outlines the demographic picture of the township. For example, the profile of enslaved labor illustrates that there were only 50 slaves or 2% of the entire body in the registry who had paid or owed a manumission fee. Another significant factor revealed by the registry is that female slaves slightly outnumber male slaves. Of the total number of slaves, 49% were males and 51% were women. 69.1% of enslaved males toiled in the field, 5.4% in domestic labor, and 17.6% of them, mostly the young, did not have jobs. Another 7.9% worked as bakers, bricklayers, carpenters, service providers, or in other miscellaneous jobs. Similarly, there were approximately 62.1% of enslaved women who worked as field laborers, 19% as domestics, 3.9% as other miscellaneous forms of labor and 15% who were listed as not having any labor duties.
All these enslaved labor forms were part of the socio-economic relations of the plantation complex. The plantation complex in Puerto Rico was a byproduct of the long historical movement of coffee, sugar cane and other cash crop production. The historical diffusion of coffee and sugar cane played a significant role in the transition of Mayagüez from a concrete space to an abstract space. In other words, these cash crops played a major part in the spatial formation of Puerto Rico, not only in the form of small places such as the township within the larger geographical body of Puerto Rico, but also as micro-spaces like villages, wards, communities, and other jurisdictions. Arguably, coffee and sugar cane paved the way for Mayagüez’s transition from a village into an urban center.
The transition established the township’s territorial parameters. As Mayagüez’s borders were set in the 1840s, elements of the concrete spatial dynamics of the territory were incorporated into the abstract space. For instance, as of the 1840s, the spatial landscape included 274.09 square miles, 77.63 square miles of landmass and 196.46 square miles of waterways. The borders of the township included landmass that consisted of mountainous and broken terrain, with a variety of multidirectional ravines. These abstract elements of concrete space shaped the various micro-spaces that came to fruition in the 1870s. In this period, there were twenty-one demarcated social spaces that together constituted the jurisdictional borders of Mayagüez.
Mayagüez’s micro-spaces in the 1870s were delineated into communities or barrios, six wards and nine sectors. The communities consisted of the following jurisdictions, Algarrobo, Bateyes, Guanajibo, Isla de Mona e Islote Monito, Juan Alonso, Leguizamo, Limón, Malezas, Mayagüez Arriba, Mayagüez Pueblo, Miradero, Montoso, Naranjales, Quebrada Grande, Quemado, Río Cañas Arriba, Río Hondo, Rosario, Sabalos and Sabanetas. The six wards were Candelaria, Cárcel, Marina Septentrional, Marina Meridional, Río and Salud. The nine communities that shaped the city of Mayagüez were Balboa, Barcelona, El Seco, El Liceo, El Pueblo, La Mineral, La Quinta, Paris and Trastalleras. The majority of these places had enslaved labor that engaged in commodity production (e.g., coffee, sugar cane, and its byproducts). The scaffolding process of commodity production included labor (i.e., enslaved and formally free and coerced labor) as constitutive parts of the social relations of the plantation complex in Mayagüez.
The registry elucidates via the field of “registered to” the spatial configuration of the township in relation to enslaved labor. Examining this aspect of the registry makes it apparent that many of the larger slave holdings were located mainly in communities such as Sabanetas and Montoso. Other communities had smaller slave holdings. It was interesting to find few, if any, slaves listed as belonging to communities or barrios within the urban zone of the township owned by people who lived there. This is very pertinent considering that there were many enslaved people of African descent registered as having urban slave duties.
Furthermore, the entries in the registry show that the landmass in Mayagüez had specific characteristics given the division of labor (plantation and urban). Each labor form was scattered throughout the township, but the registry indicates the greatest amount of agricultural production was taking place in specific areas of the township. As an example, the larger slave holdings that were primarily composed of field laborers appear to be engaged in cash crop cultivation in coastal and mountainous areas such as Sabanetas and Montoso. Coastal and or semi-coastal communities such as Sabanetas, Guanajibo and Sábalos were probably the largest producers of sugar cane and its byproducts. Comparatively, the size of slave holdings and the mountainous terrain made communities like Furnias, Montoso and Naranjales probable coffee centers. However, it is possible that some of the barrios located in the mountainous region of the township also produced sugar cane and its derivatives. The development of each of the micro-spaces mentioned herein is a partial outcome of Puerto Rico’s slave system. Nineteenth century Mayagüez was not unique, but it was specific in how the concrete space was conducive to the production of certain cash crops. The registry provides clues about the shape of each small place given the size of slave holdings. Mayagüez’s slave holdings are part of a much larger trend of how slave ownership was organized in the Atlantic slave system.
Mayagüez like many slave regimes throughout the Americas demonstrated in the nineteenth century a pattern related to the size of slave holdings. For instance, larger slave holdings were primarily dedicated to plantation production and smaller slave holdings were either tied to small farm cultivation or urban labor. The percentage of large slave holdings was actually smaller than the percentage of small and medium slave holdings. The registry shows that this trend existed in Mayagüez in 1872 whereby there were some areas that had one or two individuals with large slave holdings. The pattern of slave holding is part of the historical development of slavery in Puerto Rico that was intimately married to plantation production.
Apart from the historical picture of Puerto Rico’s slave system in that year, the slave registry of 1872 illustrates that many areas of this township were host to large slave holdings. This indicates the probability that there was significant plantation activity in these areas. However, it is critical to note that in spite of the slave population comprising roughly about 10% of the overall population, other socio-historical processes occurred on the island that supplemented the plantation labor needs of the planter class in Puerto Rico. For example, the island’s authorities executed several measures of labor control in 1849, namely the “Libreta System” or the “Reglamento de Jornaleros” that targeted the island’s free population.[10] In practice, many of the so-called “free” population were required to work for landowners who had plantations. To put it another way, the “Libreta System” functioned as a coercive measure used by the colonial authorities for forcing the jornalero class to work on coffee and sugar cane plantations. These regimes of exploitation epitomized the social relations of the accumulation of space or the so-called process of primitive accumulation. As such, the “Libreta System” like Puerto Rico’s system of slavery was abolished in 1873. We can see historically how the island’s plantation economy played a huge role in shaping the system of slavery and the exploitation of the jornalero class throughout the island.
The plantation complex as an accumulation of space contributed greatly to the historical existence of enslaved people on the island. Historically, the plantation system fluctuated in Puerto Rico, so the enslaved population, at the time the registry was recorded, was primarily creole. The category of birthplace or native in the registry highlights an extremely significant detail regarding the slave system on the island. For example, the birthplace or ethno-cultural background listed in the registry draws attention to a slave system that appeared to be winding down. In other words, one can conclude, as per the category of birthplace or native in the registry that by the middle of the nineteenth century Puerto Rico was no longer participating in the Transatlantic slave trade. In addition, legislative policies adopted on the island contributed to a gradual reduction in the slave system.
For the purposes of this article, it is essential to address the historical development of slavery on the island. Moreover, it is essential to define or establish the parameters of what is meant by large, medium, and small-scale holdings for Puerto Rico. As a point of emphasis, Puerto Rico’s slave system was not unique, but was relative to the time and space parameters of the exigencies of the Spanish colonial empire and cash crop production (e.g., coffee, sugarcane, and other fruits). Puerto Rico’s slave system was not necessarily extensive.
Comparatively, when taking into consideration other large sugar cane and coffee producing areas of the Americas in the nineteenth century, Puerto Rico received a small number of slaves via the Transatlantic slave trade. The same historical dynamic regarding the island’s involvement in the importation of enslaved Africans can be said of its early colonial period in the sixteenth century. Early in its colonial history Puerto Rico received a small number of enslaved Africans. In the period between 1501 and 1650, approximately 6,520 enslaved people, primarily from West Africa, were transported to the island.[11][12] Part of this first wave of importation of enslaved West African labor was indicative of the island’s involvement in the first wave of the Transatlantic slave trade in the Americas. It was not until the second wave of the Transatlantic slave trade, lasting from 1575 to 1763, where the “diminution in slavery’s scope and significance, along with sharp fluctuations in slaves from Africa”[13] took place.
Fifty years prior to these wide fluctuations, the Spanish Caribbean (i.e., Hispaniola, Cuba, and Puerto Rico) were involved in sugar cane production until they, according to Scarano, reached their zenith between the period of 1550-1560.[14] Echoing this historical point of departure, Blanca G. Silvestrini, et al.[15] claimed that as early as 1597 Puerto Rico had reported only eight sugar cane ingenios. The island reported six ingenios in 1694, which represents a reduction in slave-based sugar cane production on the island. Silvestrini, et al. asserted that the decline of the sugar industry started as early as 1597 in Puerto Rico as a result of problems in production and local commercial interest.
By the end of the early cycle of sugar cane plantation production on Hispaniola, Cuba, and Puerto Rico, there was a sharp decline in the importation of slave labor into these Spanish colonies. Cuba imported no slaves in the first 25 years of the first wave of slave importations. Only Hispaniola and Puerto Rico imported approximately 546 slaves combined. Between the period of 1526 and 1550, Cuba imported an estimated 574 slaves. In this same period Spain began to import slaves into its other Caribbean colonial territories and the Spanish mainland Americas. Between 1601 and 1625, both Cuba and Puerto Rico experienced a marked reduction in the importation of slaves.18 Note the number of enslaved brought to Puerto Rico via ships is estimated from ship logs, records, etc. These numbers do not take into consideration the possible contraband in enslaved labor brought to the island.
In contrast, Spain’s mainland territories received the majority of slave imports during this period. When one compares the estimated imports of enslaved African bodies among all three islands with the other Spanish colonial territories, one finds that the mainland was a major recipient of the Transatlantic slave trade. In fact, between 1601 and 1751 most of the slave importations were carried out on the mainland, in places like Veracruz, Cartegena, etc. This contraction in the number of imports of enslaved African bodies appears to be in concert with a slowdown in sugar production, sans the Dominican Republic, in the Spanish speaking Caribbean islands. In contrast, Hispaniola/Dominican Republic experienced the opposite, with a substantial increase in the number of enslaved Africans imported to the island. Furthermore, it appears that Puerto Rico did not receive any ships delivering enslaved Africans between the period of 1651 to 1725. It was not until the eighteenth century that Puerto Rico had a series of slave ship embarkations delivering enslaved Africans.
Arguably, the renewal of the embarkation of slave ships into Puerto Rico’s ports starting in 1726 was a result of the Spanish implementing the Bourbon Reforms. From 1726 to 1851, Puerto Rico received about 17,259 enslaved Africans delivered by ship to its ports.[16] The highest level of embarkations occurred between 1751 and 1775. It appears that approximately 9,280 enslaved Africans were dropped off at Puerto Rico’s ports.[17] This arrival of enslaved people seems to overlap with the diffusion of coffee production in Puerto Rico which dominated much of the towns’ mountainous landscapes. According to Laird Bergad, by 1776 Mayagüez among other coastal towns was a center of coffee production. Coffee production played an integral role in the expansion of the island’s economy in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries.
Economic expansion on the island was driven by the expansion of coffee and sugar cane plantations throughout Puerto Rico. The development of coffee and sugar production in this period stimulated the geographical expansion of plantation production in the island’s southern and western municipalities. For example, the diffusion of coffee overwhelmingly took place in Mayagüez’s highlands or mountainous areas whereas sugar production made a foothold in its coastal areas. In contrast to sugar cane production, coffee reached its zenith in terms of dominating the island’s landscape in the 1820s. However, by the 1830s coffee plantation production fluctuated, in part due to the rise of sugar cane production in many of the coastal zones on the island.
Coffee experienced three broad periods of expansion. The first expansionary period took place in the late 1840s to the late 1860s. The renewed interest in coffee cultivation triggered the furtherance of land appropriation, especially in the highlands of Puerto Rico for the process of coffee production. Many peasants became landless due to the expansion of coffee production during this period. The period marked a phase in agricultural production where there was growth in cash crop production such as coffee and sugar and a decline in other food crop cultivation. During the first phase there was an increase in investments such as “credit, warehousing, and marketing services,” by immigrants who were interested in supporting an expanding coffee economy.[18] The second phase in the expansion of coffee production according to Bergad began between the period of the early 1870s and the mid1880s. The increase in the price of coffee in the 1870s precipitated a renewed interest in coffee cultivation on the island. It is apparent that cash crop production played an instrumental role in the importation and use of enslaved labor.
The expansion of sugar production in Mayagüez in the nineteenth century also appears to have been a reason why there was an influx in the importation of enslaved people of African descent into Puerto Rico. As part of the timeline of the expansion of sugar cane production in Puerto Rico. The expansion coincided with the passing of the Cedula de Gracias of 1815. This Cedula saw an influx of immigrants who brought their commercial plantation interests to the island. The commercial interest included the arrival of enslaved Africans who were brought to Puerto Rico by the Cedularios. In addition, it appears that during the period between 1826 and 1850 approximately 4,149 enslaved Africans were imported to the island.[19] This period overlaps with the expansion of sugar cane production and its byproducts on the island. Ultimately, the number of slaves transported to the island only provides a glimpse of the island’s slave demographic percentages in relation to the overall size of the population. What is clear from much of the census material on the island is that Puerto Rico’s enslaved population, as previously mentioned, never exceeded 10% of the overall population. The low demographic number of the enslaved did not deter Puerto Rico from being the third largest sugar producer in the nineteenth century.
The other historical and social processes that affected the size of the enslaved population that appears to lead up to the number of slaves recorded in the registry were, as previously mentioned, the legislative policies enacted by the colonial administrators on the island. For instance, 1868 was a very significant year regarding the system of plantation slavery on the island. This year saw the first steps towards the end of formal slavery on the island. As a result of the Moret Law, which was conceived in 1868 and later signed into law in 1870, it instituted that people born to enslaved mothers after that year were freed. Enslaved soldiers who served in Cuba’s Ten Years’ War were also freed. As a result of the law, enslaved people who turned 60 years old or over were emancipated. The registry is emblematic of the implementation of the Moret Law because it shows that there were no enslaved people over the age of 60. Interestingly, only 22 enslaved people aged 58 to 59 were listed in the registry among the 2,579 total enslaved people. As for the slaves who had paid for manumission, as previously mentioned, there were only 50 listed as doing so. In fact, most of these enslaved payees for manumission were aged 38 to 47.
The other key social historical process that affected the demographic size of the enslaved population in Puerto Rico was the 1855 cholera epidemic. By 1856 the peripheral areas or the hinterlands of Mayagüez where the majority of commodity production was taking place saw an approximate 5% drop in its population. The drop in demographic size coincided with a drop in commodity production. For example, Mayagüez in 1856 lost 1,569 inhabitants that mostly worked and resided in the rural sector of the municipality.[20] During the period of the cholera epidemic from 1855 to 1857, sugar production dropped by 64% and coffee by 62%.24 The cholera epidemic along with the legislative actions by the colonial administrators were partly instrumental in the reduction of Mayagüez’s enslaved population.
The registry shows how it paralleled the implementation of the Moret Act. The listed categories that highlighted the background and age distribution of the enslaved showed that all of the enslaved were younger than 60 years of age. The other feature of the registry is that most of the enslaved were young and native to the island. These profiles of the enslaved shaped the makeup of the various slave holdings in Mayagüez. The size of the slave holdings was a direct result of the various variables contained in the registry. For example, space or area, gender of slave holder, and the kind of commodity being cultivated or produced all played a role in shaping the particular nature of the relative size of slave holdings in Mayagüez. In this vein, what is deemed to be a large slave holding in Mayagüez in this article might very well be a small slave holding in another part of the greater slave Atlantic. In any case, it is imperative to consider what a large slave holding in Mayagüez might have been like. Taking into consideration the whole body of the enslaved listed in the registry for Mayagüez there were typically 50 or more slaves registered to one or more slaveholders in a large slave holding. The medium slave holdings consisted of 11 to 49 slaves, and the small slave holdings consisted of 1 to 10 slaves. Slave holdings provide a glimpse into how commodity production might have taken place in Mayagüez geographically.
The geographical organization of Mayagüez’s slave society in 1872 is brought to life by the various variables that highlight the background of each of the slaves listed in the registry. As previously mentioned, the registry holds 2,579 enslaved African individuals. The individual slave entries contain 22 different variable fields, totaling 56,738 recorded dynamics regarding the slave body’s profile. The registry provides information regarding the background of 2,346 enslaved individuals who were creole or born in Puerto Rico. Many of the slaves in Mayagüez who were listed as born in Puerto Rico came from different parts of the island. The significance of this large number is that it indicates that very few, if any, were brought to the island during this period. In fact, most of the creole slaves were young or between the ages of 1 and 37. Those between the ages of 1 and 17 made up the largest group in that age range. Any slave listed as originating outside the island colony was much older. In general, the age range of all 233 enslaved people born outside Puerto Rico was between 38 and 59. Of the 233 enslaved people of African descent born outside of Puerto Rico, 169 of them were listed as being from Africa. Five were from Venezuela, 43 from Curaçao, three from Saint Thomas and two from Martinique. Slaves who were recorded as coming from Africa were mostly middle aged. Contrary to that, slaves from other parts of the world, including Puerto Ricans, ranged in age.
Another feature of the profile of the slave system in Mayagüez’s plantation economy illustrated by the registry is marriage and kinship ties. Both these elements speak to the family structure and the organizational framework of slave life. Of the entire body of the enslaved population recorded in the registry, only ten were reported as being married. The very small percentage of the enslaved listed as married demonstrates that part of the family structure within the plantation complex in Puerto Rico was extremely similar to the rest of the Atlantic Slave system where marriage was uncommon. This does not mean that the slaves in Puerto Rico did not have their own system of courtship and marriage. Instead, it simply indicates that there were only ten entries in the registry. Additionally, kinship ties featured in the registry illustrate an interesting facet of slave life post “Moret Act” in Mayagüez.
The registry also illustrates other interesting dynamics when it comes to the relationship between age, gender, and labor. The allocation of the enslaved across villages, communities and wards by gender and age shows that there was a higher number of female slaves compared to their male counterparts. The distribution by gender shows an array of patterns that can be compared to other areas where plantation slavery was taking place in the Transatlantic slave system. Nevertheless, the gender breakdown was 1,260 males and 1,319 females. A sizable proportion of the enslaved women, like their male counterparts, were scattered throughout the township’s communities, wards, etc. For instance, the gender distribution of slaves geographically indicates that enslaved women, like males, were primarily listed to slave owners who appear to have had plantations in communities or wards that were cultivating sugar cane and producing its byproducts. In fact, the largest slave holdings were in coastal and mountainous communities such as Sabaneta and Montoso. These were some of the main areas where plantation labor was primarily taking place. In fact, when considering the distribution of labor, it is evident that both male and female enslaved laborers were almost equally listed as field laborers. Yet, when it came to the allocation of plantation labor versus urban labor or labor outside of the plantation system such as domestic, service, bakery, etc., women were overwhelmingly listed as performing those modes of production.
Another vital aspect of this enslaved population is age distribution. Age distribution and its relation to labor, especially after the Moret Act, highlight one critical aspect of slave holders’ use of their slaves. Of the 850 slaves between the ages of 1 and 17, 413 were not working or had no work assigned to them. In this age bracket, most were between the ages of 1 and 10; however, there were quite a few between the ages of 8 and 12 listed as either field labor or having a variety of labor duties that might be considered urban slave labor (e.g., domestic or industrial). As such, this point is critical for understanding the exploitation of enslaved child labor in Mayagüez, Puerto Rico and throughout the Atlantic slave trade. During this period in Mayagüez, a considerable number of slaves between the ages of 1 and 17 were registered as field laborers, while 92 were registered as urban laborers.
A large segment of the age distribution fell within the 18-27 and 28-37 age brackets. The two age groups were overwhelmingly registered as field laborers, thus heavily concentrated in the plantation industry. Other jobs were also performed by those listed as field laborers. Many of those listed under that labor form also had “service” or “miscellaneous” next to field laborer. Many of the slaves designated as urban laborers did not necessarily have any other form of labor beside this form of labor. Similar to field laborers, the majority of urban laboring slaves were in the same age group. In contrast, the enslaved who fell under the age bracket of 38 to 47 years of age were overwhelmingly registered as field laborers. Those within this age bracket accounted for the third highest number of field and urban laborers. The second to last age bracket of 48 and 59 years of age found only four unemployed persons, 175 field laborers, and 52 urban laborers (mostly domestics). Lastly, only 18 field laborers and 4 urban laborers made up the oldest age group in the registry.
Another noteworthy aspect regarding the profile of the enslaved is the treatment of color or the ethno-racial descriptors used to describe the slaves in the registry. The registry highlights how the color spectrum and notion of mestizaje were similar to other areas of the Atlantic slave system. In the registry, for instance, a correlation is seen between skin color, phenotype or somatic characteristics and the kind of occupation or labor the enslaved performed. The two most common categories used in the registry that were also utilized to describe free people of color were “black” or “Negro” and “Mulatto”. ”Mulatto” is not necessarily a color, but it was used to describe mixed people of African descent or enslaved people not perceived or considered to be black. The “Mulatto” designation recorded in the registry was indicative of a spectrum of color combinations such as red-black, dark, light, brown, dark-brown, etc.
As it pertains to the perceived hue of the slaves, several hues were recorded as miscellaneous. There were approximately 102 enslaved people who had the “miscellaneous” descriptor. The miscellaneous category includes colors that are not always applied, or colors combined with somatic features. These features were used to describe certain enslaved individuals listed in the registry. In at least four or more instances a physical feature such as hair texture was utilized to identify the slaves. For instance, the enslaved, at times, were described as being frizzy, curly, light curly or dark curly-haired. As for skin tone, terms like red, white, mulatto, black and brown were applied to classify the slaves.
The color spectrum recorded in the registry reveals a relationship between color and/or the notion of mixture (i.e., mestizaje) and the kind of work performed by the enslaved. As such, color, and labor duties in Mayagüez highlight some interesting aspects of slave labor. For example, 72% of all blacks which constituted the largest number of the slave population worked as plantation laborers. In fact, the registry shows that there were 123:560 urban to plantation laborers who were classified as black. Similarly, you can find some semblance between black and non-black enslaved workers in that the vast majority of the enslaved classified as mulatto were also recorded as field laborers.
Additionally, only 10 of the enslaved listed as “red” primarily labored as plantation laborers. The rest were classified as miscellaneous or as urban laborers such as domestics. The enslaved categorized as miscellaneous (45%), mulatto (56%) had at least half of their recorded population performing plantation labor. Not surprisingly, only 27% of those identified as white worked as plantation laborers. Of the 30 listed as white, 43% primarily worked as urban slave laborers. There were only 8 enslaved people classified as white who were recorded as field laborers versus 13 urban laborers and the rest were classified as not having any profession. Ultimately, there were approximately 23:84 urban to field laborers that shaped the enslaved laboring population of Mayagüez. On average, 23% of the enslaved listed under the registry’s various nomenclatures were recorded as having no work.
The color distribution of labor spatially shows that the enslaved listed as black were dispersed across the township. In spite of that, as per the relationship between the size of slave holdings and the racial nomenclatures used in the slave registry to describe each slave, there is a clear pattern indicative of the geography of commodity production. For example, Sabaneta and Montoso both had, ceteris paribus, most of the slave population described as black. On the contrary, the community of Rio that had the second largest enslaved population listed as black was the only area in the township that had the greatest amount of enslaved people registered as mulatto.
Similarly, when taking into consideration the relationship between gender and the spectrum of color, the listing in the registry shows that there were slightly more enslaved men recorded as black as compared to females. On the other hand, more females were listed as “mulatto” or other colors which had a direct correlation to the division of labor duties —plantation versus urban labor across the municipality’s territorial jurisdictions. Each color spectrum in relation to the mode of production of Mayagüez’s economy illustrates an intriguing pattern found in other parts of the Atlantic slave system.
Another feature of the registry worth mentioning that appears to link color and somatic or phenotypic characteristics to the organization of labor are the seemingly generalized terms employed to describe the enslaved. The categories used in the registry appear to speak to the process of race formation in a colonized society that mostly exploited free and enslaved people of African descent. For example, one term used in the registry to describe slaves’ noses and mouths was “chata” or wide. The term was applied almost universally throughout the registry as a physical description of most of the slaves. It was only when one came across a slave categorized as white that the descriptor “wide” was not applied. There were a few occasions, exceedingly rare, that one came across a slave listed as black or in the variant non-black categories (e.g., mulatto, dark, light, red-black, etc.) that were described as having a thin or refined nose. However, the opposite is true when the registry highlights the descriptions of the slave’s mouths. Most slaves’ mouths were described as regular.
Given how racial characteristics are not always passed down from parents to their children, it is noteworthy that even those outside of the category of black, sans those categorized as white, in the registry were still described as having a broad nose. It is reasonable to assume that most of the slaves who were creole and categorized as black did not all have a wide nose. The likelihood of most of this grouping having wide noses is rather interesting and indicative of a racialized society whereby slave owners or those putting together the registry either arbitrarily wrote “wide” for describing the slaves’ noses or just saw something that was not there and listed it solely because the slaves were non-white. Almost 90 percent of all enslaved persons recorded as black and nearly 60 percent of mulattos were described as having wide noses.
Similarly, the term “chata” was applied to refer to slaves’ mouths. Other terms commonly used to describe a slave’s mouth were thick, large, etc. This is in stark contrast to how white slaves were portrayed, where terms like “normal” were used to describe their mouths. Given the general makeup of the population of the island, especially in Mayagüez, where up to half of the population were people of African descent, many of whom were free people of color, the process of listing the body parts of people who were listed as white in the slave registry as “normal” speaks volumes about the racial formation that was manifesting itself during this period. Conceivably, the use of the term “normal” can be applied to just about any somatic feature if one considers the large segment of the population that consisted of free people of color. However, there is a suspicion that the term “normal” was used for physical characteristics associated with white Europeans.
The other interesting somatic element of this colonial society that utilized physical characteristics as markers or embodiments of race and labor was hair. In much the same way that “chata,” or “wide,” was employed to characterize enslaved people’s noses, their hair was described overwhelmingly as “pasa.” In contrast, there were a variety of terms used to describe non-black individuals listed in the registry. Almost all slaves listed as black, and some mulattos, had the label “pasa” to identify their hair. The term “pasa”, as a somatic descriptor, appears to refer to tightly curled hair. This was a common term used to describe both free and enslaved people of African descent’s hair in many archival records. Other descriptive terms such as curly, frizzy or a variation of terms used to refer to some textures of hair were used to describe the hair of a sizable proportion of those listed as non-blacks or people described as mulattos, etc. Skin color, hair texture, nose, and mouth size, and ultimately the entire body of this slave were recorded in the slave registry.
The 1872 registry reveals a micro-racial formation that is part of a microcosm of the much larger colonial social-power relations that existed in Puerto Rico. In Puerto Rico, the colonial social-power structure framed a localized racial formation system that may have played a role in the exploitation of many legally free non-white laborers under the “Bando contra la Raza Africana of 1848” and the “Libreta System” or “Reglamento de Jornaleros of 1849.” The system of racial formation is not particular to the nineteenth century. It began as early as the sixteenth century which is captured by the archives, such as census data, etc. Census data and other archival material that tracks people give insight into how free and enslaved people have been depicted physically over time. Albeit, not every census or tracking record was as detailed as the slave registry of 1872. This appears to be the case because very few did not fully describe the physical characteristics of free and unfree people in the same way.
The registry ultimately illustrates how slave labor (i.e., field, or urban) was linked to the slave’s color and/or pseudo-biological admixture. First, it is pertinent to note that regardless of the slave’s color or pseudo-biological admixture, many of the slaves were field laborers. The biggest concentration of field laborers, which happened to be the largest group, were those categorized as black. Ironically, unlike many areas of the Atlantic slave system where the presumption is that mulattos or lighter skin people of African descent were utilized as urban laborers, in Mayagüez the largest number of urban slave laborers were also black. However, when one considers the ratio of mulattos listed as urban laborers as opposed to field labor, you find that mulattos were predominantly listed as urban laborers over field labor. The other ratios that are significant are the ones that show that slaves categorized as brown, miscellaneous, and especially white were listed more as urban laborers. The distribution of slaves and how they were described physically highlight the geography of commodity production in nineteenth century Mayagüez, Puerto Rico.
Besides the general background or profile of each enslaved person listed in the registry (e.g., age, color, somatic or phenotype and gender), the ultimate hidden gem is the spatial distribution of this body of enslaved labor force. The dynamic of this spatial distribution is apparent in several areas as per the registry. For instance, as previously mentioned, slave holdings and the area (i.e., community, ward, etc.) in which the slaves were “registered to” provide a sense of the areas in the township where the production of coffee, sugar, and other cash crops was probably taking place. In addition, the registry gives the impression of areas of the township where plantations were rare or absent.
Each of these categories contained in the registry frames the layers of social space in an interconnected fashion. They structure what this article calls the geography of commodity production. Producing commodities involved layers of social relations that were at the crux of how the active body (enslaved labor) converted a physical space (topography) into an abstract space or space of accumulation. The conduit for the abstraction process, as previously mentioned, was the plantation. Plantations required additional concrete spaces (landforms) and social processes (labor, irrigation system, etc.) to facilitate the production of commodities. In terms of topography, a significant portion of the plantations across the Atlantic system were located near the coast or by some waterway. The registry shows that nineteenth century Mayagüez was no exception to that generalization.
The geography of commodity production also demonstrates a pattern between the kind of terrain and the size of slave holdings. For example, when taking into consideration coffee production in Mayagüez in the nineteenth century, the highlands were pivotal to its cultivation. It is pertinent to note that Mayagüez’s terrain and landforms alone were not always indicative of large-scale commodity production. The indicator of the possibility of large-scale commodity production, as per the registry, was the size of the slave holding. The size of the slave holding provides an impression of Mayagüez’s diverse plantation economy. For instance, the registry shows that not all the large slave holdings were necessarily located along the coast where sugar cane plantations were generally located. When comparing the coastal or semi-coastal villages or wards of Sabaneta, Algarrobo and Guajanibo, the registry shows that there was a diversity of slave holdings in this region. In other words, not all large slave holdings were concentrated along the coast. What is abundantly clear is that all the coastal villages, wards, etc., had large, medium, and small slave holdings.[21]
The registry features 2,579 slaves spread across 488 slave holdings. The slave holdings were distributed spatially among 345 male and 141 female slave owners. Nevertheless, as explained earlier, when considering how the enslaved were distributed per slave holding, the registry illustrates continuity and discontinuity regarding the geography of commodity production. Arguably landforms, such as waterways, mountainous terrain, etc., may have played a role in their conduciveness to commodity production. However, they did not necessarily shape the size of slave holdings. In other words, the registry reveals that not all micro-spaces (e.g., regions, communities, wards, villages, small places, etc.) follow the same logic when it comes to the distribution of the enslaved. For instance, one sees variance in slave holdings between the western-coastal or semi-coastal communities of Sabanetas, Algarrobo, Sabalos and Guanajibo.
What is clear from the registry is that no one micro-space or region followed a particular pattern in how slave holdings were organized. As in many parts of the Atlantic system where slavery existed, only a very small percentage of slave owners engaged in large-scale commodity production on their plantations. For example, the three coastal communities mentioned above had a total of 676 enslaved individuals “registered to” an array of slave owners. When you consider each of the coastal towns individually, the registry shows that not all the coastal communities had a large number of enslaved people “registered to” them. Out of the entirety of the enslaved bodies in Mayagüez 19.5% were “registered to” the community of Sabaneta as opposed to 4.2% to Guanajibo. The review of each of the barrios in Mayagüez will illustrate the dynamism of slave holdings.
The registry shows that the coastal community of Sabaneta was the largest slave holding community within the municipality. The barrio had approximately 506 enslaved people “registered to” it. This community had approximately 36 slave holdings. The slave holdings in Sabaneta ranged from small to large. The sizeable slave holdings were owned largely by men and the few women who owned slaves were relatively few in number. All communities, wards, and sectors experienced this. It was not uncommon for women to own small slave holdings in which children were enslaved.
Sabaneta had at least four slave owners with 50 or more slaves. Other coastal communities or barrios, on the other hand, had fewer slaves. For example, coastal communities such as Algarrobos only had 60 slaves divided among six male and three female individual slave holdings. As a coastal community, it is possible that some of the slave owners in Algarrobos were engaged in some aspect of sugar production or some small scale form of commodity production. In contrast, Guanajibo had 110 slaves divided among eight male and six female slaveholdings. This small profile of slaveholdings illustrates a glimpse of the geography of commodity production that might have taken place in the township.
The distribution of enslaved people across the various spaces in Mayagüez shows that the greater the number of slaves “registered to” a community, the more significant the allocation of slave ownership between men and women. However, slave holdings were dynamic in that the size of the slave population did not always coincide with the amount of slave holdings per barrio, etc. For example, Montoso had the fifth highest number of slaves “registered to” this community. There were 169 slaves “registered to” 5 men with no women slave owners. Meanwhile, in communities or barrios with larger slave populations, such as Candelaria, it had 178 enslaved people “registered to” 41 men and 20 women. The barrio of Rio had 384 enslaved people “registered to” 26 men and 8 women owners. This diversity in slave distribution (spatial and slave holdings) gives a different impression of the dynamic expression of slave ownership in this township.
When reviewing the barrio of Sabaneta’s slave holdings one notices that, at face value, there appeared to be 26 different entries or listings for male slave owners. However, what is abundantly clear is that several of the registrations illustrate different permutations or combinations of two individuals who were identified as owning multiple sets of enslaved people. For example, D. Aureliano Dalas and D. Pedro Aran appeared in a number of listings to have several sets of enslaved people registered to a series of combinations of their names. In total they were recorded as owning 42 enslaved people, 19 of which were females and 23 male slaves. Almost all of them were listed as black and field laborers. When you calculate the number of slave holdings listed in the registry in total, they add up to a medium-sized slave holding. This was the only time there was a series of slave owner-name permutations that had different sets of slaves registered to them. Other slave holdings in this coastal community were much larger.
The largest slave owner in the community of Sabaneta was Don Pedro Chavarri who was recorded as owing 75 of the slaves. The gender composition of this enslaved body consisted of 40 males and 35 females, 62 of which were categorized as blacks and 13 mulattos. Not surprisingly, all but 6 of that body of enslaved were listed as not having a job. The second largest slave holder listed in this community was Don Fidel La Mayaus y Cordero who had 71 of the slaves registered to him. The gender composition of this slave holding was almost evenly split between 35 females and 36 males. Almost all of them registered with Fidel La Mayaus y Cordero were described as black and primarily field laborers. Presumably, these two major slave owners in this community were engaged in cultivating sugarcane. Geographically, this makes sense, given the proximity to the coast and the relatively large number of enslaved listed to them.
The third largest slave holding in Sabanetas appears to have been registered to husband and wife Don Esteban Nadal and Doña Ramona Nadal. This slave holding consisted of 25 females and 35 males. Like the previously mentioned large slave holdings in this community, almost all the enslaved were listed as black and field laborers. This pattern in the community of Sabaneta holds true when one analyzes the medium slave holdings. Of the five medium slave holdings, the biggest was registered to Don Ines Raldiris Hernández. This particular slave holding was comprised of 24 females and 23 males. All but one was listed as a field laborer and overwhelmingly black. Clearly, it appears that D. Ines Raldiris Hernández and other medium slave holders were engaged in cash crop production. Smaller slave holdings were not so different from other slave holdings in Sabaneta as far as the kind of labor the enslaved were conducting. The difference is that these small slave holdings were not substantial enough to support large-scale commodity production. It is possible that many of the enslaved field workers in the smaller slave holdings were engaged in labor activities such as the cultivation of small fruits or the production of sugar cane’s byproducts. The rest of the small slave holdings were children or older individuals who had no labor assigned to them.
The other coastal barrios that had much smaller slave holdings shared similar attributes to those that existed in Sabanetas. In contrast to Sabanetas, none of the slaveholders held more than 50 slaves. In fact, surprisingly, the largest slave holding was owned by Doña Iris Rosello y Nadal who owned 37 enslaved workers in the barrio of Guanajibo, 29 of which were listed as field laborers and 8 who did not have any employment assigned to them. Among the remaining five female slave owners, between one and six enslaved people were registered with them. Of the 13 remaining slaves “registered to” the five female slave owners only one was recorded as a domestic laborer. Here it appears that many of these women slave holders who, at times, had one or two field laborers “registered to” them were probably engaged in gardening or some form of very small-scale agricultural production. When one examines male slave owners in the coastal barrio of Guanajibo, one finds the same pattern. There were 60 slaves held by male slave holders and only Inez Garcia Herunt owned 39 of them. It was only Inez Garcia Herunt and Doña Iris Rosello y Nadal who owned medium-sized slave holdings in this barrio. The rest of the slave holdings were extremely small and mirrored the kinds that were listed for slave owners in the barrio of Algarrobo.
The barrio of Algarrobo slave holdings were much less numerous than the community of Guanajibo. In fact, geographically, Algarrobo bordered the community of Sabanetas, which appeared to be the fourth biggest coastal community in the township. As a coastal township bordering Sabanetas, it had only 60 slaves distributed between 6 male and 3 female slave owners. In the largest of these small slaveholdings Ines Guitierrez H’Blume had 20 enslaved individuals “registered to” him. Of these, 19 were listed as field laborers and one did not have labor duties assigned to him or her. The second largest of the small slave holdings in Guanajibo was “registered to” Don Anto Roig y Miro. He had 12 registered field laborers and one without a job. Male slave estates were equally modest as their female counterparts. These small slave holdings ranged between 1 and 8 slaves “registered to” an individual slave owner. Comparatively, the size of many of these small slave holdings indicates that many of these slave owners were either engaged in cultivating small fruits or the byproducts of sugar cane.
A substantial number of slaves were also kept in neighboring communities such as Miradero (3.9%)[22], which bordered Sabanetas. Another barrio that was closer to the interior of the Mayagüez and bordered the community of Juan Alonzo was Quebrada Grande. Apparently, this was the community that had the second smallest slave holding in the region. It had two male slave owners and one female slave owner. The other prominent area that made up Mayagüez’s slave society was the ward of Candelaria (5.4%).
Candelaria and Miradero combined had 287 slaves distributed across 77 owners. Miradero was one of several barrios with at least one slave holding with 48 slaves. The semi-coastal barrio of Miradero unlike Sabanetas and other communities had more female than male slave holders. For instance, all the male slave owners in the barrio of Miradero did not have more than 10 slaves listed in the registry. Hitherto, all but one enslaved person registered with a male slave owner was listed as a domestic worker, while the rest were recorded as field laborers. In contrast, the largest of the medium slave holdings in Miradero was held by Doña Ursula Mangual who had 49 enslaved people of African descent registered with her. Not surprisingly, all but 5 were recorded as field laborers. 33 were listed as black, 15 as mulatto and one as white. The second largest slave holding in Miradero was also held by a woman. Doña Ysabel Cannier de Guinino had a small slave holding of 16 people registered in her name. 12 of the 16 were listed as field laborers, two as not having any labor duties and two as domestic-kitchen laborers. These communities that shaped the municipality of Mayagüez illustrated a different dynamic of the geography of commodity production. They were obviously different from the coastal barrio of Sabaneta and shared many similarities in terms of the shape or size of slave holdings. One such area that was distinctive from most of the communities that shaped Mayagüez was the ward of Candelaria.
Candelaria unlike Miradero was a ward of Mayagüez that given the size of its slave holdings did not appear to be engaged in any plantation production. The registry indicates that there were approximately 178 enslaved people of African descent registered with 60 individuals. None of these slave owners had more than 10 slaves recorded for them. Given that a significant proportion of the enslaved were listed as field laborers, it seems evident that there was probably some kind of small-scale farming or gardening taking place in the ward. The rest of the labor duties the slaves were documented as doing were primarily domestic labor. Clearly, given the distribution of many of the slave holdings, the ward of Candelaria was a geographical outlier.
In the easternmost part of the township, one observes, given the terrain, a potential diversity of commodity production. Several notable slave owners had their enslaved populations registered in this part of Mayagüez. The enslaved were listed in communities such as Cancél (4.4%), Rio, Furmias, Marina Meridional (2%), Naranjales (4.7%), and Montoso (6.5%) that were located in the mountainous or semi-mountainous region of the township. Given the diversity of slave holdings, it appears that a significant number of slaves in this region who were “registered to” these communities and wards were probably engaged in the cultivation of sugar and coffee. As a matter of fact, both the barrios of Furnias and Naranjales nominally produced sugar while devoting a considerable proportion of their land to coffee production.[23] It is significant to note that there were some communities in this easternmost part of the township that shared similar slave distributions to those located in the coastal and semi-coastal barrios in the community. For instance, Cancél like Miradero had more men than women slave holders who were not necessarily involved in large scale commodity production.
The other similar feature shared between Cancél and Miradero was that the majority of slave holdings were modest in size. What is clear about the slave holdings in Cancél is that the vast majority of the enslaved population was engaged in working as domestics or labor duties usually characterized as urban slave labor (e.g., kitchen, service, farming or gardening and artisanal work such as wood carving). Of the 117 enslaved people in the barrio of Cancél there were approximately 59 who were listed in the registry as field laborers. Like Miradero, it appears that field workers in Cancél were probably engaged in small scale farming, perhaps producing small fruits or coffee. Miradero and Cancél neighborhoods are examples of the diversity of slave labor in the township. The registry, as indicated by the slave holdings, demonstrates the spatial demarcation of the scale of commodity production and the diversity of slave labor in many of the barrios that shaped the township.
The registry also showed that the ward of Rio had a similar slave demographic profile to Cancél. In total there were 161 enslaved people listed in this town. The 161 slaves were distributed between 34 males and 28 female slave owners. Only two of the 62 slave holders in this community had more than 10 slaves listed for them. For instance, Inez Balzac y Compa had 18 slaves registered to him and only 3 were recorded as field laborers. These slaves included 5 carpenters, 7 domestics, and 3 who had no labor. In contrast, Doña Victoria Fernandez had 15 enslaved individuals registered with her. 10 out of the 15 enslaved people were listed as field laborers, the rest as urban laborers and 2 with no labor duties assigned to them.
Furmias was another barrio shaped by the geography of commodity production in a similar way. In Furmias, there were 84 enslaved people held by 23 slave holders. Of the 23 slave owners, two were women. Out of the 21 male slave owners, only two had 10 slave workers registered with them and the vast majority of them were listed as field laborers. The slave holdings that were comprised of less than 10 slaves were overwhelmingly listed as field laborers. Furmias is distinctive because it had approximately 25 of 84 enslaved people who were recorded as having no work, and 11 who were recorded as domestic laborers.
The ward of Marina Meridional is another area of Mayagüez with a significant slave population, but one that is largely owned by many slave owners. Approximately 196 slaves were registered at Marina Meridional, with 31 male and 21 female slave owners. It shared a similar labor distribution as other areas of the township. Marina Meridional was no exception. It appears it was one of many wards that were engaged in farming that entailed the production of some sort of small-scale cash crop (e.g., coffee). Like other wards, it also had a significant amount of people “registered to” it that were listed as domestic. Slave holdings in Marina Meridional were distinct from those in Montoso and Naranjales.
In the easternmost part of the island, the more mountainous or semi-mountainous area of the municipality, slave holdings were comparable to those in the coastal and semi-coastal areas of the township. For example, the barrio of Naranjales had 123 enslaved people registered with 10 male and 3 female slave holders. The estimated number of slaves per slave holder was not very large in this barrio. Consider, for instance, that 5 out of 10 men had more than 10 slaves registered to them. The other 5 had considerably smaller slave holdings yet despite their size the vast majority of the enslaved were recorded as field laborers. The listing of slaves as urban laborers was almost nonexistent. This is the case with many of the small slave holdings that shaped the body of slave labor in this community.
Medium slave holdings dominated how slave labor was organized in Naranjales. Take for example, the largest slave holding in the barrio. It was held by Don Calisto Delgado who had 23 slaves registered to him, 21 of which were recorded as field laborers. The other individual with the second largest slave holding was Don Pedro De Nieva who had 18 listed under his name 12 of which were recorded as field laborers. As a reminder, like most of the field laborers in other parts of the municipality, the vast majority of them were overwhelmingly described as black. The slave holding patterns continued when one reviewed women slave owners.
The gender pattern regarding the distribution of slave holdings in Naranjales held true compared to other spaces in Mayagüez. Although there were clear moments when some women slave holders owned more slaves than their male counterparts. But what is clear as shown in the registry is that whenever there were large male slave holdings, the number of women slave owners decreased. This does not mean there were no women slave holders with significant numbers of slaves registered to them. For instance, in Naranjales there were 22 enslaved individuals registered to three women. However, the distribution of these slaves was uneven where Doña Josefa Charron had 17 of the 22 slave individuals listed to her. All of the 17 enslaved individuals were listed as field laborers and only one of the remaining five was listed as an urban laborer. Naranjales illustrated the same kind of pattern of small-scale plantation production due to the size of the distribution of slaves in this community.
On the other hand, Montoso was the neighboring community that showed a different distribution of slaves in this part of the region of Mayagüez. Most of the slave holdings registered in other communities when compared to the barrio of Montoso were modest. Communities such as Cancél and Furmias were clear examples of small slave holdings that provide a glimpse of how the geography of commodity production was structured in the township. Those who bordered Montoso were also small. For example, Montoso, in contrast to Sabanetas, had the largest slave holdings in this part of the township. Montoso had one large slave holding registered to Don Jose Yrizzary who had 67 enslaved individuals listed to him. Of the 67 only 46 were listed as field laborers and the rest were recorded as having no labor duties. The 46 field laborers along with the 39 field laborers registered under Don Pedro Ythien and 33 field laborers recorded under Don Callisto Orames illustrate that there appeared to be greater plantation production compared to Montoso’s neighboring barrios. What is peculiar about Montoso is that none of the slave holdings had any urban laborers. Neither did the registry show that there were women slave owners listed in this community. What is apparent from the registry is that there were more small slave holdings in Mayagüez than there were medium or large slave holdings.
Examples of small slave holdings were common throughout Mayagüez. Communities or wards such as Anones, Bateyes, Juan Alonzo, Lequida, Limon, Maleza, Marina Meridional, Playa, Quebrada Grande, Quemado, and Rosario all illustrated the pattern of having medium and small slave holdings. The vast majority of these communities and or wards with the exception of Juan Alonzo, Lequida, Marina Meridional, Playa, and Rio Cañas Abajo all had less than 20 enslaved people recorded per slave holding. For example, the barrios of Anones, Limon, and Salud all had at least one slave owner that had a slave holding that ranged between 10 and 16 enslaved people assigned to one individual. Almost all of the slaves listed in these communities and wards were listed as field laborers. However, the rest of the slaves were listed as domestic workers or as having no work duties. Considering the small size of slave holdings and the large number of field workers, these communities are believed to be small-scale plantation commodities producers and farmers. The other barrios seem to have been involved in much larger commodity productions.
There were cases in the registry where certain communities or wards had medium slave holdings that appeared to be involved in some sort of commodity production. For instance, the largest of the medium slave holdings was listed with a slave owner in Marina Meridional. For example, Don Jose A. Annoni had 35 field laborers, 12 urban laborers and three who were classified as having no work. In another area of the township, not sure if he was related to Don Jose A. Annoni, there was Don Franco y Miro. He also owned a sizable enslaved population. In Rio Caña Abajo, there were 24 enslaved people registered with Don Franco Anonni y Miro, 20 of whom were listed as field laborers. In Rio Caña Abajo the registry indicates that Don Adolpho Polidusa also had 18 field laborers registered to him and in the community of Lequida Julian de Rivera also had 18 field laborers registered to him. It is clear from these slave holdings in these areas that the enslaved laborers were probably engaged in much greater commodity production than communities that had much smaller slave holdings. These micro-spaces were not homogeneous in their slave holdings because despite having one or two large or medium slave holdings, a substantial portion of these spaces of accumulation had a lot of small slave holdings.
As far as medium slave holdings are concerned, Marina Meridional and Rio Caña Abajo both had higher numbers of slave populations recorded in these communities. For example, Marina Meridional had 196 enslaved individuals registered with 31 male and 21 female slave owners. But only had one large and one medium slave holding. These two slave holdings in total had 76 enslaved people registered to two individuals. The rest of the 120 enslaved people were distributed between 21 female slave owners and 33 male slave owners. 42 of the remaining 120 slave individuals registered with 21 female slave owners were recorded as urban slave laborers. Similarly, when you deduct the 35 field laborers listed to Don Jose A. Anonni, you find that most of the enslaved recorded to other male slave holders were recorded as urban slave laborers. It was only Don Formal Folara who the registry shows had the next highest amount of field laborers registered to him. Of the 26 enslaved people registered to him, he had 15 that were listed as field laborers. One can infer from the registry that there were probably one or two plantations, several small farms, and many urban laborers in Marina Meridional.
In contrast to Marina Meridional, Rio Caña Abajo had a much greater number of slaves, totaling 295 listed as 28 men and 7 women. The one huge difference between the two is that Rio Caña Abajo had 219 of the 295 enslaved people recorded as field laborers. However, Marina Meridional only had one large slave holding that was constitutive of 35 enslaved people who were listed as field laborers. The rest of the slave holdings were relatively small, whereas Rio Caña Abajo did not have any large slave holdings. All of the relatively sizeable slave holdings belonging to men in Rio Caña Abajo were medium size slave holdings. In fact, this barrio had five slave holdings that had 20 or more enslaved people per owner that were mostly classified as field laborers. The same is true of the women slave owners in Rio Caña Abajo. Only one woman slave owner had 10 slaves registered to her, 9 of which were categorized as field laborers. The other six female slave holders had very small slave holdings that ranged from 1 to 6 slaves listed for each of them. Out of the 25 enslaved individuals registered to several women, 19 were listed as field laborers.
As far as the geography of commodity production is concerned, what do these communities tell us? When considering slave holdings, the geography of plantation production suggests that there were two communities that primarily engaged in large-scale plantation production, whereas others engaged in medium-scale plantation production and some farming. The possibility of small-scale farming is indicative of the large number of slaves who were listed as field laborers registered with one individual slave holder. Another aspect of this registry is the clear gender dynamic of slaveholding. As previously mentioned, most of the small slave holdings were owned by women, whereas the very large slave holdings were all owned by men. However, there were several instances where women owned more slaves than men. On this occasion, a good portion of the male slave holders had fewer than 10 slaves. Slave holding was not uniform, nor did it display a uniform gender distribution.
In conclusion, small holdings were scattered throughout Mayagüez’s communities, villages and or wards. Many of these small slave holdings were constitutive of a master slave relationship that was framed by a slave owner and one or more sets of enslaved individuals. There were some communities or barrios that were primarily shaped by these types of slave holdings. According to the registry, communities, and wards with no more than one slave registered to a single individual owner generally were not involved in plantation production. As per the 1872 Mayagüez registry, some of the single slave holdings were children with no labor duties or women with domestic duties. Several of these slaves were registered as field laborers or day laborers, but this does not mean all of them were. What it does indicate when it comes to the geography of commodity production is that many of these very small slave holdings were not necessarily involved in plantation production.
If we look at the number of slave holdings in the broader context, they were not necessarily uniform geographically. Therefore, the registry shows that the mountainous region also had small, medium, and large-scale slave holdings, similar to Mayagüez’s coastal zones. Because of the township’s eastwest or north-south topography, many of the slaveholdings were located on the other side of its coastal zone. In comparison with Sabanetas (19.5%), Montoso (6.5%) had one of the largest slave holdings in the municipality, situated in the easternmost and mountainous regions. As shown above in the overview of the barrio of Sabanetas, it had two slave holdings with an average of 73 slaves registered to two owners. In contrast, Montoso had one slave holding with 67 slaves registered to one owner. Besides Sabanetas and Montoso, other villages with medium-scale slave holdings included Guanajibo (4.2%), Juan Alonzo (2.5%), Naranjales (4.7%), Rio (14.3%), Marina and Playa. All of these villages had 13 individual slave owners who owned between 31 and 50 slaves.
Medium slave holdings that averaged 11 to 49 slaves per owner were scattered throughout Mayagüez’s villages and wards. A total of 26 slave owners owned between 11 and 49 slaves. Much of this slave labor was engaged in an assortment of labor duties. There was some urban labor intermixed with the predominant category of field labor in many of these medium slave holdings. This sample of the 1872 slave registry for Mayagüez echoes Nistal-Moret, Negrón Portillo and Mayo Santana’s[24] studies regarding the types of labor (i.e., field labor, domestic, industrial, etc.) that enslaved people performed in Puerto Rico. This significant division of slave labor distribution highlights how 488 slave holdings were structured: small slave family units, for the most part unmarried, with many of these family units shaped by single enslaved women with children, female owners who only had child slaves registered to them and a large mix of field workers and urban slave laborers (i.e., domestic, and industrious).
This article reveals that slavery in relation to the geography of commodity production helped shape Mayagüez as a space-qua-product. Mayagüez as a space-qua-product encapsulated the symbiotic relationship between the colonial space, the place of plantation production (i.e., coffee, sugarcane, and its byproducts, etc.), and the ethnological or demographic space that directly formed the geo-spatial configuration (e.g., localities, wards, communities, barrios, villages, etc.) of the township. Ergo the registry shows that the municipality was partially a result of labor relations that were organized by the social relations of age, gender, and color. Moreover, the number of slave holdings and the types of labor duties the enslaved were doing shaped Mayagüez’s plantation complex.
This analysis showed that the production of things (e.g., commercial cash crop cultivation) via the variant labor forms that cultivated them was integral to the development and formation of the demarcated places of commodity production that shaped the municipality of Mayagüez. Small, medium, and large slave holdings appear to highlight the possible kinds of commodity production that took place. In this case, labor illustrates how some places were dominated by small farms and plantations. The size of the slave holdings dispersed across different communities showed how some communities did not engage in large-scale commodity production. These smaller places probably were dominated by small farms and urban labor duties.
Thusly, this analysis showed that labor in this colonial urban community, in all its spatial components, was organized by a division of labor wherein certain labor duties (e.g., baker, kitchen, domestic, carpenter, gardener, etc.) took place in areas where small farm or medium size commodity production was commonplace. In contrast, labor in areas of large-scale commodity production was overwhelmingly listed as field labor. It appears that the greatest amount of production that took place in Mayagüez was in its coastal and mountainous regions. In this instance, Mayagüez’s economic base was in its wards, barrios, hinterlands, rural and coastal communities.
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[1] Slave holdings are considered in this paper as the amount of enslaved people owned by an individual slave owner.
[2] The term geography of commodity production encapsulates the material relationships of spatial development in Puerto Rico. Thus, the geography of commodity production developed as a result of slavery and markets. Consequently, it explains the diverse economic networks in which the planters and slaves of the colony engaged. Ultimately, the diffusion of plantation and farm
[3] Nistal-Moret, Benjamín, “Problems in the Social Structure of Slavery in Puerto Rico during the Process of Abolition,” in Between Slavery and Free Labor: The Spanish-Speaking Caribbean In The Nineteenth Century, ed. by Manuel Moreno Fraginals, Frank Moya Pons, and Stanley L. Engerman, 141-157 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1985).
[4] Mariano Negrón Portillo, and Raúl Mayo Santana, La esclavitud urbana en San Juan (Puerto Rico: Huracán ediciones / Centro de Investigaciones Sociales, Universidad de Puerto Rico, 1992).
[5] Lefebvre, The Production of Space..., 91.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Raúl Mayo Santana and Mariano Negrón Portillo, La esclavitud menor: la esclavitud en los municipios del interior de Puerto Rico en el siglo XIX (Puerto Rico: Centro de Investigaciones Sociales, Universidad de Puerto Rico, 2007).
[8] Negrón Portillo, and Mayo Santana, La esclavitud urbana...; Mayo Santana, and Negrón Portillo, La esclavitud menor...; Nistal-Moret, “Problems in the Social Structure...”.
[9] Marx’s notion of expropriation of surplus value is imprisoned by his capitalist-wage relations and does not extend itself to enslaved labor. Despite both labor forms having a particular relationship with capital, Marx seems to ignore how enslaved labor is also commodified. Not only is enslaved labor commodified in terms of the unpaid extraction of surplus value for the production of commodities, it is also, in and of itself, a commodity that is bought and sold in the marketplace. Herein lies the paradox when one considers slave labor’s relationship to capital because Marx opts to relegate slavery as a form of capital itself and at times as an aspect of pre-capitalist production. This seemingly contradiction reappears when he toys with the idea that wage labor is symbolically a form of slave labor. However, he distinguishes it from what he calls slavery in its pure and simple form. Despite this apparent contradiction, this paper takes the position that there is an expropriation of the surplus value of a particular form of unpaid labor. In this case, we are not talking about machines but human beings who were forced to perform labor duties for the enrichment of plantation owners.
[10] Pertaining to the “La Libreta de Jornaleros” or the “Reglamento de Jornaleros of 1849,”: Fernando Picó, Libertad y servidumbre en el Puerto Rico del siglo XIX (3rd. ed., Puerto Rico: Ediciones Huracán, 1983) and Historia general de Puerto Rico (Puerto Rico: Ediciones Huracán, 1986); Francisco M. Scarano, Sugar and Slavery in Puerto Rico: The Plantation Economy of Ponce, 1800-1850
(Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1984); James L. Dietz, Economic History of Puerto Rico: Institutional Change and Capitalist Development
(New Jersey: Princeton University Press,1986); Teresita Martínez-Vergne, Capitalism in Colonial Puerto Rico: Central San Vicente in Late Nineteenth Century (Florida: University Press of Florida,1992).
[11] Emory University, The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database, n.d. Accessed
[12] . http://www.slavevoyages.org/voyages/.
[13] James A. Rawley, and Stephen D. Behrendt, The Transatlantic Slave Trade:
A History, revised ed. (New York: W. W. Norton, 1981), 137.
[14] Ibid., 138.
[15] Blanca Silvestrini-Pacheco, and María Dolores Luque de Sánchez, Historia de Puerto Rico: trayectoria de un pueblo (San Juan: Ediciones Culturales, 1992). 18 Emory University, The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database, n.d. Accessed 2018. http://www.slavevoyages.org/voyages/.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Laird W. Bergad, “Coffee and Rural Proletarianization in Puerto Rico, 18401898,” Journal of Latin American Studies 15, nº 1 (1983):16.
[19] Emory University, The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database, n.d.. Accessed 2018. http://www.slavevoyages.org/voyages/.
[20] Ramonita Vega Lugo, Urbanismo y sociedad: Mayagüez de villa a ciudad 1836-1877 (Puerto Rico: Academia Puertorriqueña de la Historia, 2009) 83. 24 Vega Lugo, Urbanismo y sociedad..., 135. Vega-Lugo shows in the mercantile balances that pounds measured in sugar dropped from 23,366,401 in 1855 to 22,072,088 in 1856 and 15,059,696 in 1857. Similar drops in the weight of coffee per year took place during that period.
[21] Rigoberto Andino, “Coffee, Sugar, Enslaved Labor and The Social Production of Space: Slavery In The Municipality of 1872 Mayagüez, Puerto Rico.” (Pro-
Quest Dissertation Publishing, 2019), 289. Source: AGPR. Secretaria del Gobierno Superior Civil, Registro Central de Esclavos 1872, 4 Departamento.
[22] The percentage in the parenthesis is the rate of slaves held in the community, village, or ward.
[23] Vega Lugo, Urbanismo y sociedad..., 489-507.
[24] Nistal-Moret, “Problems in the Social Structure...”; Negrón Portillo, and Mayo Santana, La esclavitud urbana...; Mayo Santana, and Negrón Portillo, La esclavitud menor....