Quebrada de Doña Catalina

One of the more interesting finds is recently realizing that the Boletín histórico de Puerto Rico, Volume 12 contains some of the surviving documents on an "Indian" community in Puerto Rico. Although not enough to reconstruct the story of this community, the indios of the Quebrada de Doña Catalina, living near San Juan, were active in 1568. However, the writings of the governor of the island at the time, Francisco Bahamonde de Lugo, establish that their community, cultivating conucos as their own hacienda, were multi-racial. Indios, mestizos and blacks (negros horros) formed part of it. Interestingly, Bahamonde de Lugo, who was accused of having Indian slaves in his house, actually admitted to having 2 Indian servants that he treated very well! So well, in fact, that they chose when and how to serve him and were treated like his own children! Elsewhere, this very same man bragged about being loved by the poor, including negros, indios, mestizos and mulatos. 

Although living outside San Juan, this community tried to defend itself from white landowners and elites eager to take their land. According to Sued Badillo's contribution to Making Alternative Histories, the community sought redress for the abuse and harassment of its members.  Unfortunately, the reality was even worse. A man using the title Protector de los indios y mestizos actually went against the provisor, Cristobal de Luna, in the ecclesiastical judge in 1568. First of all, it is astonishing that as late as 1568, when indios were supposedly few or extinct, that there was a man, Francisco del Rio, possessing a title that presupposes the existence of indios and mestizos on the island (while also claiming to be a protector of grifos, too. 

The particular man who particularly wounded the Indian community of Quebrada de Doña Catalina was also guilty of violently attacking its members as well as interfering with their lands. According to the governor, Bahamonde de Lugo, two members of its community died and they also wanted restitution for the economic losses caused by the attacker (who cost them more than 500 pesos). The case was somewhat confusing, since it was unclear if the Governor of the Bishop should resolve the issue. Bahamonde de Lugo apparently had a low opinion of the Church on these matters, but mentioned that Franciso del Rio wanted to petition to the Audiencia in Santo Domingo and the royal government This shows just how far the community was willing to go to seek compensation for their losses. Although it was likely a different person, a Cristobal de Luna was supposedly sent as a prisoner to a monastery in Spain in the year 1578, perhaps connected to this case?

Overall, the Quebrada de Doña Catalina community, which cultivated conucos and was of unknown size, appears to have acted like some of the documented indio pueblos of other parts of the Spanish Antilles. Relying on protections allegedly bestowed upon Indians by the Spanish Crown, they claimed protection from others to protect their lands. However, they also appear to have been under the Church, which failed to protect or stand up for their interests. Considering how Church officials often underreported the Indian population of the island in the period from the 1540s through the 1580s, and their own interests as landowners (including access to slave labor and cheap labor), it seems like this rural community knew it had to rely on the "protector" of the Indians and other forms of redress. While not a pueblo de indios like those of Boya, Cibuco, Guanabacoa, or El Caney in other Antillean colonies, the community appears to have perhaps acted like one. Their dedicated to conuco agriculture was probably also rooted in the precolonial people's agricultural practices, too. 

What happened to them? If these people, already indios, mestizos and free blacks, were cultivating conucos near San Juan, they presumably became pardos in the 1600s and 1700s. Similar patterns likely occurred elsewhere in late 16th century Puerto Rico, as "indios" in areas like Arecibo, San German, Mona, and other locations were reclassified or reconceived as other "ethnicities." That Indians of Mona were still recognized can be found in the 1590s, as officials discussed what to do with their trading with enemies of Spain and the presence of a "cacique of Mona" in San German. Overall, Indios and mestizos must have been a major component of the population, but as a distinct group, they gradually disappeared in much of the island. Except for San German and La Indiera, where local definitions of "Indio" remained relevant, the indios and mestizos of Puerto Rico became pardos and jibaros of later centuries. After all, from the testimony of Abbad y Lasierra in the late 1700s, we know that "indios" did not disappear but, as the example of Anasco illustrates, "disappeared" through racial mixture with people of European and African origins. As the "Indian" population "transformed" into mestizos and pardos, one can presume titles like "Protector de los indios y mestizos" also disappeared or completely lost their relevance. 

Mesoamerica and the Taino

Influencias mayas y aztecas en los taínos de las Antillas Mayores: del juego de pelota al arte y la mitología by Osvaldo Garcia Gocyo is another speculative study on Mesoamerican influences in the precolonial Antilles. Following in the footsteps of Eugenio Fernandez Mendez, Garcia Goyco suggests the number of parallels between Taino and Mesoamerican cultures in religion and the ballgame are proof of Mesoamerican & Taino contact. He even goes further than Fernandez Mendez in his analysis of the religious and mythological parallels, believing the similarities could not be the product of deep archetypes or independent evolution. In order to affirm this theory, Garcia Goyco takes the reader on an excursion through Taino and Mesoamerican art (usually less persuasive than other evidence), religion, and mythology, with occasional references to the Carib and South American indigenous groups for comparative purposes.

In terms of the actual evidence, like Eugenio Fernandez Mendez, Garcia Goyco's argument is strongest with regard to the ballgame and the plazas or courtyards associated with it. The astronomically-aligned Taino batey does not have an equivalent in the northern South American regions their ancestors came from. Moreover, there is possible evidence for human sacrifice in the plazas and the use of stone collars that are reminiscent of those found in Mesoamerica. While the ballgame and courtyards associated with it can be found as far back as the Olmecs, there is so far no evidence for the construction of elaborate plazas in Venezuela or the Orinoco Basin. Thus, Garcia Goyco finds it quite likely that Mesoamerican influences reached Hispaniola and Puerto Rico by or around the 600s or 700s of the Common Era, around the time for the earliest known courtyards in the Greater Antilles. Why we do not find evidence of such elaborate plazas in western Cuba or Jamaica early on is perhaps, according to our author, a product of the later spread of the Taino culture to those islands. It is suggested that the less "advanced" cultures resident on the island were less interesting for economic or cultural purposes to Mesoamerican peoples (perhaps akin to the Putun Maya traders?). 

Besides the evidence from Taino and Mesoamerican ballgames, the rest of the evidence is more suggestive than anything else. The fact that the Taino on one side and Mayas and Aztecs on the other believed in cosmogonic eras and believed there was once a flood or deluge is one example of the types of sources utilized by the Garcia Goyco. It is certainly interesting that in Taino myth children are transformed into frogs, an animal associated with rain. However, it could be purely random that the mother goddess figure of the Aztecs, called Tona, happens to have a name similar to the cry of the children-turned-frogs in Taino myth. Indeed, the association of the frog with rain among the Taino, Aztecs, and Maya does not constitute evidence of Mesoamerican influence on the former. Furthermore, the deity or god Juracan or Hurakan, supposedly tied to the Yura-can of the Galibi Caribs, may not be connected to the Maya Hurakan. Garcia Goyco tries to develop this theory based on Coatrisquie, a deity associated with Guabancex. Coatrisquie's name is similar to the Aztec Coatlicue, who was associated with subterranean waters. Perhaps Guabancex had multiple names like other cemis of the Taino, so Garcia Goyco postulates that Juracan was one of these additional names. Moreover, the Hurakan of the Maya in Guatemala is part of a trilogy of gods associated with the sky, sea, land and life. Indeed, Hurakan to the Maya meant heart of the sky and "a leg." For our author, Jurakan may also be another reference to Anacacuya, whose name points to the Polar Star (hurricanes also rotate around the Polar star).

In addition, the author suggests more parallels between Taino and Mesoamerican mythology. For instance, take the Xibalbay mentioned in the Popol Vuh. Since it bears a slight resemblance to the Taino Coaybay and both were the land of the dead, it is possible there may be a connection between Taino and Maya beliefs. The two cultures also associated bats with death or spirits. Similarly, the Taino Opiyelbuobiran, a cemi with four legs, is linked to the Chacs of the Maya, which also are associated with dogs, forests, and lagoons. Perhaps even more intriguing is the alleged relationship between the Aztec montecitos and the three-pointer cemis of the Taino. Believing the three-pointers to be identified with Baibrama and fertility, Garcia Goyco argues for similar practices among Taino and Aztec communities with regard to the reverence attached to these objects. He even argues that the myth of Deminan and his three brothers has a Maya parallel in a tradition collected from the Yucatan by Antonio Mediz Bolio. Indeed, the tale of Deminan, Yaya, Yayael and the deluge does bear some common features with the Yucatecan tradition of Giaia and his two sons, Giayala'el and Halal. In the the Maya version, however, the father, Giaia, is killed by one of his sons but the same ending with a flood caused by siblings occurs. In fact, perhaps even the 4 Bacabes or brothers in Maya tradition is also an influence on the Taino myth of Deminan and his twin siblings (gemelos divinos). Something similar may also be seen in the Taino and Maya perception of the land as a giant iguana or reptitle floating in water. 

Overall, Garcia Goyco's study finds some interesting parallels between Taino and Mesoamerican cultures. While his evidence is strongest with regard to the ballgame and plazas, some of the similarities in mythology might point to deeper shared influences or cultures. Mesoamerican cultural influences spread far and wide so it is certainly not impossible for elements of them to be found among the Taino of the Greater Antilles. However, is it not possible that some of the mythological similarities might be a product of later influences? Perhaps Taino who accompanied the Spanish to Mesoamerica introduced elements of these myths and traditions? And one cannot discount the possibility of Taino (and Carib) seafarers in the Caribbean traveling to Mesoamerica in the distant past. Perhaps some of the similarities are also merely a coincidence of similar mythologizing based on animals like bats, frogs, and reptiles. By and large, studies pointing to greater similarities with South American lowland Indians are more convincing. Of course, it does seem likely that Mesoamerican influences must have also reached the Antilles either via Central America or directly from Mesoamerica at some point in the precolonial past. 

"Indien" Connection of the Gory/Pitiot of Baynet

One surprising and random discovery made from examining the Baynet and Grand-Goave parish records is the find that the Prunier claimed "Indian" ancestry. Although we are missing adequate details on the origins of the Prunier, it would seem that two daughters of Michel Pitiot and Marie Victoire Gory married Prunier men. The earliest indication of a connection is the 1782 marriage of Christophe Prunier to Therese Anne Zabeth. Christophe Prunier's father's name is not given, but his mother was identified as a deceased "mestive indienne" named Marie Louise Petit. Christophe Prunier was thus claiming part "Indian" heritage or ancestry through his mother. This could have been something done at a time of increased racial prejudice against those of African ancestry. Again, to indicate what a small world Bainet and Grand-Goave were, our friend Jean-Baptiste Marillac was a witness to this wedding.

However, other sources from Baynet parish may elucidate this alleged "Indien" ancestry of the Prunier. There was indeed a teenager named Marie Louise, of the "Indian" nation, who died in in 1755. Marie Louise's father's name is difficult to read, but it looks like Don Pedre, Indien. She also died on the habitation of Peronneau (Louis?), which could be a useful clue. After all, the Perronneau habitation in 1764 appeared in a map, showing it to be on the coast and not too far from Baynet's bay. It was likely a cotton or indigo plantation. So far, however, it establishes that there was an "Indien" man with a daughter who passed away in 1755, supposedly around the age of 13. If that age is accurate, she probably is not the mother of Christophe Prunier. If the estimated age is off by a few years, and she was perhaps closer to 16, then perhaps she was indeed the mother of Christophe Prunier.

Another possible connection to the "Indien" origins of Prunier can be found in the death of a Pierre Petit, an "Indien." This Pierre Petit, who died in Jacmel in the year 1780, was around 50 years old and married to a Marguerite. Her surname is difficult to decipher and we have not figured out who she was. However, if this Pierre Petit was the same person as the "Don Pedre" identified as Marie Louise's father, this could be helpful. After all, Baynet and Jacmel were neighboring parishes and perhaps, by 1780, Pierre had moved there. 

Alternatively, in 1771, a Marie, with no name but designated as an Indien, died in Bainet. Said to have been around 40 years old, this Indian Marie could also have been the mother of Christophe Prunier. Unfortunately, the surname Petit does not appear. Moreover, no connection to the Pruniers or Pierre Petit is obvious from this. If Marie Louise Petit was from Baynet or Jacmel, then she may have been the one who passed away in 1755. Exactly where she came from is unknown, since they could have had Amerindian or Asian Indian ancestry. Alternatively, Christophe Prunier may have also called his mother a "mestive indienne"to just avoid the stigma associated with blackness?

Enslaved Ancestors

Although we are more interested in Haiti, genealogical research in Puerto Rico is usually easier. Much of the parish books are available online and quite a few have been indexed on the Family Search Website. This, plus the large volume of digitized material on the site, makes it somewhat easier to trace ancestry back to the 17th century. This time, we would like to emphasize on an ancestor, Maria Faustina baptized in the early 1700s but born to an enslaved woman.

We know Maria Faustina, the wife of a "pardo libre" named Marcos Rosado (also known as de la Rosa), was baptized in 1703. Her mother, Simona, was a "negra esclava" owned by the estate of a Maria (?) or Andrea Amezquita in the San Juan area. Her godfather, Jacinto Gomez, is unknown. However, perusing the parish registers of San Juan for other Amezquita reveals it to have been a large family. They were presumably related to the Amezquita who defended the city against a Dutch attack in 1625. Jacinto Gomez was also the godfather to another "pardo" child in 1709, this time to the daughter of the alferez Agustin Ruiz and Maria de la Cruz. Jacinto Gomez may have been in the military and knew the father of Maria Faustina. 

What do we know about Simona, the black slave mother of Maria Faustina? Sadly, nothing. However, it is possible that the inheritors of the estate that owned her came from the family of Juan Amezquita, the owner of an ingenio and slaveholder in the late 1600s. According to the 1673 "census" of San Juan, studied by David Stark, Juan Amezquita owned 25 people. Perhaps Simona was one of them? Slaves in late 17th century and early 18th century San Juan were also of diverse origins. The African-born ones were often from Angola, but Maria Amezquita and Isabel Amezquita also owned "Tari" slaves who had their children baptized in the San Juan church. According to David M. Stark, the Tari were from the region of the Slave Coast (modern-day Benin) but West Africans were outnumbered by Central Africans in the early 18th century. Overall, adult slaves baptized in San Juan during the end of the 17th century were from Angola, Loango and Tari. Assuming Simona was African-born, and probably came to the island in the later decades of the 1600s, she was probably from West Central Africa. 

Details on Maria Faustina's life can only be gleamed through the baptisms of her children with Marcos Rosado. Marcos Rosado and Maria Faustina appear to have been "pardos" (or classified as such). Marcos Rosado, the son of a Maria de la Rosa, was baptized in 1702. His mother may have been the Maria de la Rosa baptized in 1688, the daughter of two slaves, Geronima and Tomas, owned by the Andino. If true, then her parents were owned by Don Baltazar Andino's family, a captain in San Juan who was also involved with illicit trading. If Geronima and Tomas were typical adult slaves of the 1680s, and they were born in Africa, perhaps origins in West Central Africa are most likely. 

Of course, we need more proof of the identity of Maria de la Rosa, Marcos's mother, before we can confirm our theory that she was the daughter of two slaves owned by Captain Baltazar de Andino. Interestingly, the priest who recorded her baptism in 1688 described her parents as legitimately married. However, when searching San Juan marriage records, we could not find them. Nonetheless, some of the general trends scholars have noticed among the enslaved population of San Juan in the late 1600s and early 1700s does tell us something about the world in which our ancestors lived. 

Full Circle on Victoire Gaury

After revisiting old parish registers and notes, we have returned to believing the mother of our Anne Marie Joseph Gaury was indeed Victoire Susanne Monteise. The other possibilities we know about either do not fit or are too unlikely. For instance, we once thought a woman baptized in 1778, Marie Victoire Sanite, could have been the mother. Sanite was the illegitimate daughter of a Marie Magdelaine Beaubrun Dupuy and her godmother was none other than Marie Victoire Susanne Monteise. However, Baynet parish records indicate that a Marie Victoire died about 5 years later in 1783. The mother is only identified as a Marie Magdelaine, but this probably means that Marie Victoire Sanite died in 1783, about ten years before the birth of Anne Marie Joseph Gaury. 

Another candidate for the mother, Marie Victoire Pitiot, appears to have been married to a Diegue Prunieu (or Prunier?). Marie Victoire Pitiot, baptized in 1765, was incorrectly identified as a Pichot by the parish priest. However, it becomes rather clear that Pitiot was her surname since her mother was identified as a Marie Victoire Gory. We later learn when Marie Michelle Gabrielle Pitiot was baptized that her godmother was Marie Victoire Pitiot, the wife of Diegue Prunieu. If Marie Victoire Pitiot was married to a Prunieu by 1787, and descendants of the Gory/Pitiot would also marry them in 1800s Grand-Goave, it is probably unlikely for Marie Victoire Pitiot to have been the mother of Anne Marie Joseph in 1793.

The original Marie Victoire Gory is also worthy of attention. Baptized in 1749, Marie Victoire Gory was the daughter of Francois Gory and Francoise Saugrain. She married Michel Pitiot in 1765. They went on to have at least a few children, including Marie Victoire Pitiot, Jean Joseph Gabriel Pitiot (baptized in 1781), Marie Michelle Gabrielle Pitiot (baptized in 1787) and even another child, Marie Anne Francois Pitiot, in an unknown year. It seems highly unlikely that this Marie Victoire Gory was the mother of Anne Marie Joseph. She was more likely to have still been married to Michel Pitiot in 1793. 

The loss of Marie Victoire Gory (baptized 1749), Marie Victoire Pitiot (baptized 1765) and Marie Victoire Sanite (baptized 1778) as possibilities leaves us with Victoire Susanne Monteise. Baptized in 1764, she was the daughter of a white Frenchman and Marie Francoise Gory. Her godmother, Marie Victoire Gory, was the source of her name (which was written as Marie Victoire Susanne Monteise by the priest who recorded Sanite's baptism). We know that this Victoire Susanne's sister married Jean Baptiste Marillac, a frequent witness to events affecting members of the Beaubrun Dupuy, Pitiot, Gory, and other Baynet families in the late 1700s. We also known that all these women were related to or connected to each other in Baynet during the second half of the 18th century. 

Of course, one still needs to understand why Anne Marie Joseph's mother was recorded in 1793 as simply Victoire Gory. Was it due to to her illegitimate birth? Or was there yet another Victoire Gory living in the same area of Baynet and part of the same kinship networks? And who was the Joseph mentioned as Anne Marie Joseph's father in her 1859 death certificate? The only Joseph Gory was the son of Jean-Baptiste Gory, a cousin of Victoire Susanne. A Joseph Deslande was also present, but he married Agathe Gaury in 1775. With Agathe, he had a son named Joseph Guillaume Deslande, baptized in 1776. It seems improbable that Joseph Deslande was the father of Anne Marie Joseph, although we cannot rule it out. After all, Agathe Gaury died in 1788.

An alternative clue to the identity of Anne Marie Joseph's origins may also be found by looking at her godparents again. Both of her godparents were from the Marillac family, and siblings. Indeed, her godmother, Marie Marillac, was a widow who also had an illegitimate child after her husband's death. According to the Bainet parish books, Jean Baptiste Marillac's sister had her illegitimate daughter baptized in 1788. She used her own name, Marillac, and had her relatives, including the sister of Victoire Susanne Monteise, serve as a godparent. Whatever stigma of an illegitimate child in this era clearly did not stop men like Jean Baptiste Marillac from acting as a godparent to the children of his relatives. We are inclined to believe the same thing applied to Anne Marie Joseph Gaury, whose mother's name was inexplicably written as Victoire Gory. There may have been another Victoire Gory out there, perhaps in Grand-Goave, whose existence we cannot affirm. Based on the sources we currently possess, the simplest explanation is that Victoire Gory and Victoire Susanne Monteise were indeed the same people. Indeed, Jean Baptiste Marillac was her cousin through shared Saugrain ancestry.