Afro-Latino Maroons: 1530 - 1700

Three Mulatto Gentlemen of Esmeraldas, Andrés Sánchez Gallque, 1599 (Source: Google Arts and Culture)

Introduction

In his introductory essay to Maroon Societies: Rebel Slave Communities in the Americas (1996), Richard Price attempts some generalizations "comparing African maroon societies in a time perspective;" that is, their changing characteristics between the 16th and 18th centuries (37):

Communities formed in the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries seem to have differed from those formed later, both in the types of men they chose as leaders and in the models used to legitimize their authority. Before 1700, the great majority of maroon leaders on whom we have data were African-born. Moreover, four of the six major leaders (Ganga Zumba, Domingo Bioho, Yanga, and Bayano) claimed to have been kings in their African homelands. During this period, models of monarchy were frequently appealed to... In contrast, after the beginning of the eighteenth century, maroon leaders only very rarely claimed princely descent from Africa, tending instead to style themselves captains, governors, or colonels rather than kings. Moreover, a striking number of leaders during this period were Creoles, quite out of proportion to the number of American-born men in the general slave population... I would like to suggest, particularly for this period, that the nature of maroon (and colonial) society made the person who was skilled at understanding whites, as well as his fellow maroons, especially valuable as a leader (19-20).

Through the course of this essay, I will argue against Price's framework, contending that the features he relates to 18th century maroon communities, namely the Hispanicized leadership and extensive knowledge of whites, were already prominent characteristics of certain maroon societies in the 16th and 17th centuries. Using, in particular, primary sources on maroons from 16th century Panama, along with a number of primary sources involving maroons in 16th century Ecuador and 17th century Colombia, I maintain that a subset of Spanish American maroon communities in the 16th and 17th centuries had highly acculturated, or ladino, leaders, who effectively used their knowledge of Hispanic language and culture to defend their communities. Additionally, some of the traditional, African-inspired monarchical leaders of this earlier era were more Hispanicized than Price's comparison between the centuries may suggest. These acculturated maroon leaders, of which some, in fact, were American criollos (American-born), showcased an ability to speak and/or write Spanish, allowing them to send personal letters to colonial authorities. They demonstrated to those officials their Catholic piety and an understanding of what behavior, ideas, and rhetoric would appeal to them. 

In making these arguments, I do not mean to suggest that maroons displaying an extensive knowledge or assimilated identity around Hispanic language, culture, and religion, took on such characteristics at the expense of African language, culture, and religion. Rather, as scholarship on the formation of New World identities has shown, African slaves were both highly adaptive and resilient in combining aspects of Hispanic culture -- which oftentimes was introduced to them on the African coast or ingrained in societies like the Kongo -- with their personal, native African culture and worldview (Berlin; Lovejoy; Mintz and Price). African-born slaves transported to the New World, who made up the large majority of maroon communities and their leaders in the 16th and 17th centuries, retained their African identities, including the practice of traditional rituals, even as they mixed with those identities aspects of Spanish culture and the cultures of diverse African tribal heritages brought together through the slave trade. Religious and cultural syncretism were obviously key characteristics of the African, New World experience.

Contending with Price's framework, I assert that the maroons of 16th and 17th century Spanish America should be viewed through a more complex model that emphasizes the varieties of maroon leadership, the potential for rapid acculturation amongst first-generation African maroon leaders, and the similarities between 16th and 17th century maroon communities and those of 18th century, the latter being often made up of native-born Africans. In truth, Price, in the same essay referenced above, repeatedly argues for similar views on African maroon communities, highlighting the diversity and contingent nature of their created cultures and governing styles across space and time. "It is essential at the outset," he says, "to underscore the diversity of values and points of view that must have been represented in most of the original maroon groups. Not only were African tribal affiliations quite diverse, but a wide range of slave adaptations was represented as well" (23). As another example of this he says, "early maroon societies, whether organized as centralized states (like Palmares), loose and shifting federations (like the Windward Maroons of Jamaica), or isolated bands (like that of André in French Guiana), were communities at war, fighting for their very existence" (16). And, interestingly, mirroring some of my descriptions, he finds significance in the fact that "some of the most 'creolized' of maroon societies — those with the heaviest overlay of Catholicism, European language, Western dress, and so forth — seem to have been composed of a particularly high proportion of native-born Africans (for example, many of the sixteenth-century communities in the Spanish territories)" (25). Or that "The typical early maroon community was... composed of Africans who were often literally just off the ships, unskilled plantation slaves born in Africa but who had lived for years in the Americas (and who, because of their numerical preponderance in colonial slave populations made up the bulk of most maroon communities), and some Creoles or highly acculturated Africans" (42). Again, where we differ is in our extracted generalizations of the early maroon communities. Within the 16th and 17th centuries there is enough of a prominence of highly acculturated, non-traditional African maroon leaders to dispute the dichotomy he draws in the governing styes and defense tactics of maroon communities before and after 1700. 

Other scholars have made use of Price's chronological framework, such as Jane Landers in her essay, "Cimarrón and Citizen: African Ethnicity, Corporate Identity, and the Evolution of Free Black Towns in the Spanish Circum-Caribbean," in which she posits an intermediate stage between Price's pre and post 1700 maroon eras as seen in the development of Mexico's 17th century maroon communities: 

In the viceroyalty of New Spain African-born kings gave way to creole governors and captains who shared power with African-born war captains. And Christian churches eventually operated alongside and shared religious authority with African religious systems. However, because documentation was scarce when Price wrote, he had not discerned an intermediate stage in this evolutionary process that only strengthens his claims for the dynamism and adaptability of Africans in the Americas. For a brief historical moment in the seventeenth century, in the viceroyalty of New Spain, blacks represented themselves as a republic analogous to that of Spaniards and Indios, and the viceroy and Spain recognized them as such (Landers 112). 

Beyond Landers, I have not come across another explicit use of Price's framework within my limited reading of maroon scholarship, nor many attempts at generalizations on the evolution of maroon communities over the centuries. Nevertheless, the historical scholarship on African maroons in the Americas has become rich and exhaustive over the last three decades, and attempts at understanding the inner dynamics of maroon communities and the preserved and shifting African identities within them, has been one of the prime subjects of scholarly interest. I reference in this essay the work of Charles Beatty-Medina who has focused attention on the Esmeraldas maroons of the 16th century, and one of their highly acculturated leaders, Don Alonso de Illescas, who I will turn to soon. Meanwhile, Kathryn Joy McKnight, whose analysis of primary documents concerning an early 17th century Colombian palenque highlights some of the tensions between ladino maroons and a traditional African queen supported by newly imported Africans in the community. Robert Schwaller in his documentary history on maroons in 16th century Panama, goes to great length within his commentary to identify significant details about the identities of the maroon leaders and make sense of their expressions and behavior, revealing instances of African ritual alongside displays of Catholic piety. However, like Ruth Pike's article on the Panama maroons, "Black Rebels: The Cimarrons of Sixteenth-Century Panama," Schwaller does not draw particular conclusions on the relative acculturation of these maroons compared to their counterparts in other regions and time periods in Spanish America. 

Efforts to address this question of the relative Hispanic acculturation of certain African maroon communities and their leaders, and the resulting leadership styles and tactics of defense contributes to the tradition of historical scholarship mentioned above that seeks to understand the formation of African American identities amongst the first generations of Africans shipped to the New World as slaves. Maroon communities provided unique conditions for this process as Africans living outside the confines of slavery were able to more freely preserve and exercise their traditional African culture, customs, and religion while developing new institutions and practices amidst the challenges and opportunities of a new geographical landscape, various African tribal identities from across the continent, and Spanish and Amerindian neighbors.

Three Ladino Leaders

Spaniards and Africans (at least those that spoke Spanish) used the terms ladino and bozal to describe the level of Hispanic acculturation an African or Amerindian person had undergone. Ladino signified someone "well-versed in Spanish language, customs, and culture," whereas bozal was used to describe Africans straight off the slave ship, ripped from their native countries without much outward display or knowledge of those facets of Spanish identity (Beatty-Medina 91). The three 16th and 17th century maroon leaders I will examine in this section were either described as ladinos or seem to constitute such an identity in their knowledge and behavior. Those three individuals are Alonso de Illescas, Don Luis Macanbique, and Captain Francisco. I will argue that they demonstrated leadership strategies similar to those Price attributes to 18th century maroon leaders, namely, that they tended to "style themselves captains, governors, or colonels rather than kings," that they were "skilled at understanding whites, as well as [their] fellow maroons" making them "especially valuable as a leader," and, in the words Landers uses to summarize Price's description, that they "had developed new social and political institutions that dispersed authority and vested leadership in acculturated American-born creoles better equipped, argued Price, to deal with Europeans and negotiate the best interests of their people" (Price 19-20; Landers 112). 

Alonso de Illescas

Alonso de Illescas, whose background Charles Beatty-Medina has analyzed alongside a letter Illescas sent to crown authorities in Quito and Madrid, was born in the Canary Islands and spent his adolescence in Seville working as a domestic slave under owners who were merchant elites in that city. As Beatty-Medina explains, Illescas was trained in "the Hispanic way of life" (91) from this experience and he attempted to use it to the advantage of his maroon community when writing a letter to local Spanish authorities seeking their reversal of the rights they had given away to a Spanish colonist to settle lands within their maroon community. Illescas was repeatedly described by Spaniards as "muy ladino," and his letter of 1586, according to Beatty-Medina, "reflects his years of exposure to the workings of Spanish authority. Rather than emitting raw defiance, the letter demonstrates a keen awareness of what was important to Spanish authorities and to the Crown” (92). Illescas could not write in Spanish, however, and he made the letter in partnership with a Spanish missionary, Alonso de Espinosa, who lived with the maroons and advocated for them, denouncing the greed behind the Spanish invaders of the maroons. Beatty-Medina explains that "although Espinosa may have been the one to put pen to paper" and likely proposed much of the "rhetorical phrasing," "much of the letter’s content reflects the experience and knowledge gained by Illescas from years steeped in Hispanic culture" (91-92). 

Illescas's letter skillfully deploys a number of arguments geared to appeal to Spanish officials. For one, he puts significant weight on the religions considerations at play in a forceful Spanish settlement of maroon lands. He first dutifully describes the Catholic doctrine he and his fellow maroons live by, saying, "I desire to submit to God Our Father and to Your Royal Crown and that on your part I be sent a general pardon and remission, because I have not been in your service and that you send a priest to preach to us the Holy Gospel and teach our women and children" (Afro-Latino Voices 94). Establishing his community's Catholic acculturation in turn allows him to pledge to "do everything in my power... to pacify all the natives of this province" (94). Here he refers to the unsettled Campace Amerindians within the Esmeraldas region who were also the "maroons' bitter enemies" (Beatty-Medina 91). Illescas, caring about his community's triumph over such rivals, made his maroons' dedication to Catholicism and "desire and willingness to join in union with the Church and Your Royal Crown" (Afro-Latino Voices 94) a pretext for his community's permission to "enter the territory of the Campaces and require them to surrender peacefully to your service" and "settle them near the sea in the best place possible" (94-95). Such a development, Illescas explains, would be in the Crown's interest and to allow Spanish colonists to go forward in creating their own settlements in Esmeraldas would "only be of disservice to God and Your Majesty to conquer by force of arms and at the cost of many souls," and "bring chaos to the peace the devoted father [Espinosa] has brought with the Holy Gospel" (94-95). As Beatty-Medina describes it, Illescas "presents his actions as being in the royal interest, when in fact they were more important to the Maroons’ autonomy and independence" (92). His letter, then, showcases the sophisticated negotiation a 16th century ladino maroon leader could make with Spanish authorities, defending the interests of his community. Moreover, as Beatty-Medina says in his contextual essay on this document: "Contrary to scholarship proposing that escaped slaves attempted to “resurrect an archaic social order,” Illescas’ letter suggests that African Maroons involved themselves in dynamic relationships with their environment, native societies, and colonial authorities and that their social order developed out of contingencies largely beyond their control (Genovese, 3). It illustrates some of the ways that escaped Africans became critical agents in the colonial process" (88). 

Don Luis Macanbique

Similar to the case of Alonso de Illescas, we find in 16th century Panama the highly acculturated maroon leader, don Luis Macanbique, who, in 1579, wrote a letter himself to crown authorities in Panama City requesting "to be pardoned and recognized as a vassal to the king" in order to begin a peace settlement process between his maroon community and Spanish authorities (Schwaller 189). Macanbique's name refers to his origins in Mozambique, a colonial outpost of the Portuguese empire at this time, and his own use of the title "don," no doubt indicates some borrowing from Iberian culture. He writes in the embellished and formulaic style typical of letters sent to royal officials at this time indicating an educated facility with Spanish rhetoric. We can see his short letter bellow (African Maroons 189):

While it is possible another maroon could have penned the letter on Macanbique's behalf, Schwaller makes no suggestion of this possibility, or that of a Spanish missionary aiding Macanbique, in any of the documents relating to Macanbique's communication with the Spanish officials and from these documents it is clear that Macanbique speaks Spanish himself with the officials.  

Like Illescas, he also employed calculated arguments appealing to Spanish officials at certain key moments in his maroon community's settlement process. We see, in particular, appeals to Spanish political and religious interests. In the document, "Account of Captain Antonio de Salcedo in Portobelo, September 28, 1579," within Schwaller's collection, the Spanish captain, Salcedo, recounts this exchange with Macanbique as Salcedo tricks the maroon community and threatens to leave them following the breaking out of a quarrel between a Spaniard and a maroon captain during the treaty and resettlement process: 

Don Luis pleaded with me that by the one God I not go as it would mean the loss of everything [that had been agreed to]... He told me that I should ignore the words of Antón Bañol and think about what would happen if this whole pueblo was lost, how Our Lord and His Majesty would not be served nor would [the negros] gain their liberty. Should I leave the pueblo they would burn it to the ground, take their women and children, and go where they would never be found. By the one God I should not permit such a thing as it would mean their total destruction (African Maroons 200)

When Salcedo persisted the next day in his desire to leave the meeting, Macanbique then added the following arguments: 

If you go to before Real Audiencia and its president your lie will be believed as truth and our truth will be taken as a lie. Surely you see that we are not to blame, don't prevent our children from being baptized and prevent these people from becoming Christians over such a small issue. We see now that we are guilty of letting it happen, in the future we will look after your interests as if they were those of our children (African Maroons 201)

Macanbique's skillful handling of his community's resettlement process -- indeed, he even successfully worked to have his community's free town moved to a better site once he discovered problems with the geography of the original one -- and his personal communication with Audiencia officials indicates the advantages his acculturated background had in securing the interests of his community. 

Criollo Leadership in Limón Palenque 

In the 1620 and 1630s, and quite possibly in the decades before this, in one of the Colombian palenques (maroon settlements) near Cartagena called Limón, palenque-born and criollo (American-born) leaders had already began to arise, more than 80 years before Price's framework accounts for their predominance occurring by 1700. As the criollo slave and member of Limón, Juan de la Mar, described in his 1634 testimony before Spanish officials following his arrest, of the "fifteen palenque-born black criollos" in the palenque there included the "Captain Francisco, and his father Domingo, and Commander Simón," who were the sole leaders of the palenque when La Mar arrived (Afro-Latino Voices 136). Additionally, he recounts that criollos born outside the palenque also quickly gained distinction within the community with members like the "black painter Francisco Criollo -- who belongs to the Señor Inquisidor Fiscal" (137) and who had arrived at the palenque after La Mar, among the only maroons who carried guns during their raids versus the common bows and arrows: "El Morisco [a criollo] and the black man Francisco Criollo who belongs to the Señor Inquisidor Fiscal carried shotguns and had bullets and powder for them and the other blacks all carried bows and arrows" (138). La Mar witnessed, however, the sudden rise to power of another palenque-born criolla named Leonor, who took on the leadership style of a traditional African queen based on some African customs and beliefs La Mar describes as being introduced by a new, African-born members of the palenque (138): 

Even under these circumstances of a new monarchial structure of the palenque and the rise in prominence of Leonor's close allies amongst the African-born contingent in the palenque, the male criollos continued to play a vital role in community as representatives in negotions with Spanish officials in Cartagena for possible peace and town settlement agreements. As La Mar explains, in recounting a particular raid, "they had resolved that Captain Francisco and the other criollos would come to Cartagena to negotiate a peace agreement with the Lord Governor and maese de campo, according to what had been decided with Captain Don Juan de Sotomayor" (140). 

Titles and Leadership Styles

As was made especially clear in this document from the Limón palenque, the titles of "Captain" and "Commander" had significance to maroons, were employed purposefully in contrast to such titles as "Queen" (La Mar says "Queen Leonor"), and conveyed power and influence beyond just military matters. As mentioned earlier, it is significant as a sign of acculturation that Macanbique adopted the title of "don Luis Macanbique." Documents recording the make-up of his maroon community also reveal a dispersal of leadership titles beyond his own person, with one document describing an event in which Macanbique and many other male maroons from the community came before the Audiencia of Panama City, pledging on behalf of the community their devotion as vassals to the Crown: "there appeared a moreno who called himself don Luis Macanbique, who has been and currently is the leader and the principal cuadillo of the rebellious negros in the bush and settlements of Puertobelo" (African Maroons 190). The Audiencia scribe then describes how Macanbique went on to mention his "maestre de campo, captains, officers of war, and other negros and negras subject to him" (190). Additionally, we see later in this same document a treaty provided by Macanbique and his maroons that ends with, "As such we ask, supplicate, and promise that we will keep and fulfill [that which has been agreed to]. I ask all this for myself and in the name of those of us that are here present. We are the following (190-191):

The list goes on with about thirty other non-titled individuals, excepting the second to last on the list who is named as "Francisco Cubo, relative of the [former] maestre de campo, currently serving as the maestre de campo, single" (192). It seems likely that the use of "mayoral" here reflects the choice of word by the Audiencia scribe for a title that could otherwise be known as a captain, signifying an individual's important role in the community's fighting ranks or in directing the agricultural work as a kind of foreman (Schwaller 245). Several other maroon communities of the time period had a similar structure of a handful of captains or mayorals working alongside of or under the direction of a central leader, and they seemed to have occupied a kind of noble status within the community, being included in the small-group negotiation events that took place with Spanish officials at the outset of peace settlement processes, while also serving as commanders for the maroons' military efforts. We see this dispersal of military/communal leadership roles even in the case of King Domingo of the 16th century Bayano, Panama maroons with one Spanish census of the community listing (African Maroons 233),

Display of Catholic Piety 

Another compelling window into the 16th and 17th maroons' level of Hispanic acculturation and use of that cultural knowledge in defense of their communities, can be seen in the displays of Catholic indoctrination the maroons made in view of Spanish officials. As we saw earlier, maroon leaders like Illescas and Macanbique made arguments to Spanish authorities concerning their utility in spreading the Catholic faith. They also regularly requested the sending of friars to their communities such that the maroons could be educated in the religion and so that the sacraments could be administered. In letters like these, maroon leaders at times also lamented the excommunication from the faith they had received being in open rebellion against the colonial officials, and in the course of agreeing to peace with the Spaniards in return for their freedom, tended to include statements about their eagerness for rejoining the community of the faithful. 

A clear example of this can be seen in the documents on the 16th century maroon leader, King Domingo, in Panama. While Domingo's leadership style approximates more closely Price's framework of the traditional African kings of the early maroon communities, it is clear Domingo had a high degree of Hispanic acculturation, seeming to be a practicing Catholic. He made particular displays of this in his meetings with the Spanish officials, and could have used such demonstrations purposely to impress the Spanish and show a keen awareness of their religious and cultural values, setting a good impression of his maroon community and their desire to found a free settlement. 

For one such meeting in 1579 between King Domingo with his maroon captains and the Spanish officials, we find in testimonies made before the Panama Audiencia in 1580 this description from don Rodrigo Hernández, dean of the cathedral of Panama City, and one of the participants in the meeting:

Domingo rose ­and removed the hat he wore, saying sweet words explaining that he was very happy to see this fine day come to pass and that for a long time he had desired to return to the ser­vice of God and His Majesty. He implored that by the love of God could he be absolved before going ­ further because ­he knew that he had been excommunicated from the flock of God and his king. ­ After this, what he wished was done for him and his captains. This witness stood along with the rest, and taking Domingo between him and Pedro de Ortega they went to the chapel, where Domingo knelt down. This witness absolved him of the excommunication that he had incurred for having left the flock of the Holy Catholic Church, for having committed evils in the bush, according to what he explained with apparent anguish, and for having received and promised to aid the thieving Lutheran En­glish who had arrived. This witness absolved him, ­after which Domingo blessed himself with holy ­water and still kneeling stayed for a long while with hands set [in prayer] and his eyes fixed on a cross set upon an altar. This witness requested that he pray something to see if he knew the prayers. He said ­these very well. He then stood, crossed himself, and said to this witness, for the love of God may all his captains and people ­enjoy from the same benefit, and so it was done. They knelt down and this witness absolved them of the same censures. Before absolving them, Domingo and the rest held hands with this witness and promised to be subject and obedient to the Catholic Church and to do what is asked of them. With this commandment, they were ­all absolved (African Maroons 179-180). 

Indeed, Schwaller explains that Hernández's comment of Domingo saying the prayers "very well," is "glowing praise. Not all Spaniards could say these prayers well" (Schwaller 184). 

Further on in this document there appears another striking description of the maroons' display of Catholic reverence as Hernández recounts his time spent teaching them Catholic doctrine during the multiday meeting between the maroons and the Spanish officials (181): 

Juan de la Mar

The criollo maroon from the Colombian palenque, Limón, whose testimonies to Spanish officials we examined earlier, also comments upon his Catholicism and that of some of the other ladino maroons in his palenque. Once again, because these testimonies are given in the context of la Mar's arrest, he may be mentioning them so as to win more favor with the Spanish officials. Nonetheless, they may represent some of his genuine religious convictions, as he makes comparisons between his Catholic beliefs and the absence of such in Queen Leonor and her supporters amongst the recently arrived Africans. In one striking passage, for example, Juan de la Mar gives this account of his actions with the Spanish and Indian captives his community had taken and that were now being sentenced to execution: 

And when they took them out of the hut to kill them, [the victims] walked along tied up with ropes. And the Spaniard asked that for the love of God they not kill him. And he said to Juan de la Mar that he thought he knew him, and asked him to plead with the other blacks on his behalf, and that he would serve them. And Juan de la Mar said that there was nothing he could do, because they were more than twenty black men, and whoever opposed them, they would shoot and kill with arrows. And as he and the Indian walked along, tied up, the black man Tumba, slave of the Trejos, and Francisco Criollo, slave of the Señor Inquisidor Fiscal, and Juan de la Mar helped them in their dying and prayed with them (Afro-Latino Voices 140). 

Following the executions, la Mar also mentions that he and "other blacks wanted to bury them, and the Angolan blacks did not allow them to do so" (Afro-Latino Voices 140). 

English Corsairs' Account 

Another account that gives some indication of the 16th and 17th century maroons' display of Catholic religiosity, and that, importantly, is not taken from an account in which the maroons were in the midst of a negotiation process for their freedom and settlement, or trying to defend themselves following an arrest, comes from descriptions of Francis Drake's famous 1572-73 expedition to Panama in which he allied with the local maroons to raid the Spanish silver transportation routes. Philip Nichols' 1628 book Sir Francis Drake Revived, compiled from "firsthand accounts of Drake and his men" (Schwaller 103), provides these descriptions and says on the maroons the Englishmen allied with, "Touching their affection in religion, they have no kind of priests, only they held the Cross in great ­reputation. But at our Captain’s persuasion, they were ­ contented to leave their crosses, and to learn the Lord’s Prayer, and to be instructed in some mea­sure concerning GOD’s true worship" (Schwaller 106). 

While Price's framework focuses more on the evolution of leadership styles within maroon communities through the 16th-18th centuries, these demonstrations of Catholic acculturation on the part of, in most cases, African-born maroons, strengthens the case for a faster creolization process, including a rise of ladino leaders and the strategic use of knowledge of Hispanic culture, amongst certain maroon communities than is implied by the framework. They also provide early examples of the development Landers writes about in New Spain: "The maroons of New Spain managed to survive repeated Spanish assaults and were able to manipulate Spanish medieval constructs and refashion themselves and their settlements from 'illegal' kingdoms led by 'pagan' Africans to ordered black republics and townships composed of Christian, tribute-paying subjects" (Landers 132). And the examples show that the attainment of Hispanic acculturation, which Landers mainly describes as occurring through the late-17th and 18th centuries (though in New Spain), was being rapidly developed in certain maroon societies of the 16th century. 

Acknowledgement

I want to thank Dr. Cañizares-Esguerra for the 'capstone' undergraduate seminar he taught this fall of 2023. The course's focus on reading each week academic monographs, book reviews, and/or primary source anthologies gave me much needed training for delving into the historiography of a chosen historical topic and finding collections of primary sources that could be readily applicable and compelling for answering (and posing) a historical question. Through each benchmark of the independent research component of the course, including a presentation before the class, I very much appreciated his incisive and candid comments. Lastly, as was felt during our class discussions, Dr. Cañizares' extensive knowledge of slavery in the Atlantic World, and, in particular, his emphasis on studying the lived experience of Africans in the New World, enslaved and free, through all their diverse occupations and social roles, was incredibly stimulating and rewarding.