The governor of Jamaica had a problem. Powerful colonists were eager to find reliable sources of slave labor for their plantations. Enslaved Africans mostly satisfied this demand, but the supply was never sufficient. Another source of slave labor was also present, however: Native Americans. In the 1660s a clandestine trade emerged between Jamaicans and various native groups on the Central American coast. Parts of the Yucatán Peninsula, the Mosquito Coast, and the Darién in eastern Panamá, where the Spaniards exercised little or no authority, became regular destinations of English vessels. The exchange of beads and knives for local goods such as turtle shells, fowl, corn, and dyewood occasionally included captured natives from the interior. English ship crews took these captives to Jamaica and sold them in slave markets to planters, who apparently found indigenous slaves less costly than Africans and yet better workers. Thomas Modyford claimed to have been trying to limit slavery since his arrival as governor in 1664, declaring such individuals free.1 In 1670 he reported to the Board of Trade and Plantations in London that he found himself in an uphill battle with the island’s residents regarding the status of “Indians, Mulattos and Negroes that pretend to bee free.”2 One year later the newly appointed Governor Thomas Lynch wrote that he had shifted the decision making regarding freedom suits from himself to local juries, but when they proved unsympathetic he moved the locus of justice to special courts in an attempt to secure more fair trials.3
Governor Modyford’s predicament in Jamaica is instructive. When people imagine slavery or the slave trade, they picture the sufferings of the millions of captured Africans who were shipped in chains across the Atlantic, sold to the highest bidder in the notorious slave markets, and forced to work under atrocious conditions on the plantations in the Americas. As we are beginning to understand, however, Europeans also benefited from and perpetuated the enslavement of indigenous people. Although we are used to thinking of Spanish conquistadores as indiscriminately enslaving all natives who stood in their way, in reality every major European nation with colonies in the New World participated in various ways in the enslavement of indigenous populations. In the case of Jamaica, this involved English seafarers fueling a native slave trade from several parts of Central America to supplement African labor on the island’s sugar plantations. Indian slavery was ubiquitous, although it varied greatly by region. In some locales, colonists and merchants capitalized on preexisting tensions between indigenous groups to encourage a native-driven slave trade. In other locales, settlers fought wars against native groups, enslaving them directly. However, European presence transformed it over time. As in Africa, precontact slavery existed in various forms in the Americas, and colonial merchants often tapped into and exploited existing native rivalries and practices of enslavement to serve their own purposes.4
The end result was that a large number of Native Americans were forced into a wide variety of slaveries and unfreedoms in the early modern period. The extent and magnitude of slavery among indigenous populations is almost impossible to determine. This is largely because the extant sources available are less transparent about Indian slavery than African bondage. Recent scholars of the native slave trade have estimated approximately two to five million indigenous people were enslaved between 1492 and the late nineteenth century, of whom approximately 650,000 were transported some distance over water.5 These estimates suggest that we have yet to fully understand the volume of the Indian slave trade over time in particular locales. As Andrés Reséndez explains in this volume, there were several major slave trading nodes within the Spanish empire in the Americas alone: Chile, Paraguay, Colombia, and Venezuela, as well as northern Mexico, which included the transportation of slaves across the Pacific from the Philippines. But this is in addition to significant enslavement of natives undertaken by Dutch, French, Portuguese, and English merchants and colonists—which affected hundreds of thousands of individuals over time. In each region, indigenous people were both enslaved locally and forcibly relocated to other parts of the Americas. And in many regions Europeans relied upon indigenous groups to fuel the slave trade by providing captives. Although colonists of various nations could and did enslave natives directly, they also often established trade networks with coastal groups who then provided slaves in exchange for manufactured goods.
One well-known example of this dynamic is in the Carolinas, where English and, to a lesser degree, Scottish traders operating out of Charleston engaged various indigenous groups to undertake slave raids against other groups. Small-scale attacks on scattered and dispersed communities evolved over time into large-scale wars devastating entire regions. Not only were enslaved natives put to work on the expanding plantations in the American southeast, they were also sold to the slave markets in Barbados, Antigua, New York, New England, and other ports in the Atlantic World. Based on a careful interpretation of fragmentary sources, it can be estimated that from 1670 to 1717 more Indians—between 30,000 and 50,000—were exported from Charleston than Africans were imported.6 Such figures provide a limited and inchoate glimpse into the social disruption that this practice undoubtedly caused. Although the number of enslaved natives most likely never reached ten to twelve million as it did for enslaved Africans brought to the New World, both Africans and Indians were caught up in a vicious system of Atlantic slavery, and for this very fact both deserved to be taken seriously. In countless other colonial contexts indigenous people were forced to labor in unfree conditions alongside Africans, as Carolyn Arena shows in Surinam and Barbados. Stephanie Smallwood has noted in her study of the slave trade from the Gold Coast in Africa that “the comparative weight of numbers should by no means be seen to establish a hierarchy of relevance.”7
Despite various attempts to eradicate indigenous slavery in the Americas, starting with Spain’s New Laws in 1542, native slavery persisted alongside African slavery for most of the colonial period.8 While not outlawing it outright, Jamaican governors like Modyford struggled for well over half a century to limit—if only for practical, diplomatic reasons—the Indian slave trade from the Mosquito Coast. Some other colonies, too, attempted to ban the slavery of native people but with mixed results. New York passed a law in 1680 that barred further importation of enslaved natives and made free those who were already slaves. Barbados passed a law in 1688 against importing any Indian slaves, and the Carolina proprietors tried to shut down their own slave trade out of Charleston in the early eighteenth century.9 Even Spain undertook another empire-wide effort to outlaw Indian slavery in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Although these laws and campaigns were not entirely successful, such attempts demonstrate that, unlike African slavery, native slavery sometimes operated in legally gray territory and was dictated by regional alliances and dynamics. Europeans often had to think twice about whether natives were enslaved justly and what the consequences of establishing a native slave trade might be.
For most of the twentieth century the enslavement of Native Americans was considered a minor historical phenomenon that received little attention in the larger narratives of colonial—or more recent Atlantic—history. Perhaps the most important pioneering study was published in 1913 by Almon Wheeler Lauber. His work shed some light, with little particular focus, on various instances of Indian slavery in English North America and adjacent parts of the Spanish and French colonies.10 This interimperial approach was probably Lauber’s greatest achievement, which few, if any, authors have emulated in more recent times. However, his book, as well as many subsequent publications, was largely descriptive and did little to place this unfree labor regime in a socioeconomic context. An early work that similarly opened up questions of native slavery in Latin America was José Antonio Saco and Vidal Morales y Morales’s two-volume Historia de la esclavitud de los indios en el nuevo mundo, published in 1932.11 The topic also received attention from a small cadre of historians over the ensuing decades, most notably Lewis Hanke’s Aristotle and the American Indians and William Sherman’s Forced Native Labor in Sixteenth-Century Central America.12 Much of the scholarship—essays, dissertations, and a few books—were regional studies and barely entered mainstream academic literature.13
In recent years Native American slavery and the trafficking of indigenous slaves have become the subject of considerable scholarly interest. This is partly an outgrowth of the New Indian history that emerged in the 1970s and has influenced scholarship in this field in subsequent years and will continue to do so for years to come. Such was the case with Daniel Usner’s 1992 book, Indians, Settlers, and Slaves in a Frontier Exchange Economy, which proved prescient in many ways.14 While not solely devoted to indigenous slavery, this study of French traders, English colonists, and regional native groups in the lower Mississippi Valley revealed the mechanics of an exchange economy and showed how both Indian and African slavery were central to the economic interactions between the various communities. Leland Donald’s Aboriginal Slavery on the Northwest Coast of North America, published in 1997, similarly demonstrates how slaves and slavery were central to the cultures and economies of native groups in the North American northwest.15 Another influence on the field of Indian slavery is the rich scholarship on African slavery and the transatlantic slave trade. As historians began to understand the various facets of the Atlantic slave system, particularly in the seventeenth century, and placed it in a larger context of American history, the enslavement of the indigenous populations emerged as a sustained node of study.16
Starting in the early twenty-first century, a cluster of books opened up the topic of Indian slavery in a fresh way. James Brooks’s prize-winning Captives and Cousins, published in 2002, revealed a mostly unknown slave system in the southwestern borderlands of North America that long remained outside the Atlantic trade network and allowed for the development of an ethnically heterogeneous frontier society.17 From the pre-Columbian period until the late nineteenth century this social environment was characterized by all sorts of exchange, adoption, genetic mixing, and flow of captives between and through various native and Spanish communities. Slavery was one element in a complex system of cross-cultural interactions. Alan Gallay’s Indian Slave Trade, also published in 2002, captured the imagination of the field—indeed, it won the Bancroft Prize along with Brooks’s Captives and Cousins—by shedding light on a long-lasting and bona fide Indian slave trade at the heart of the English colonies in the American southeast.18 Gallay described in powerful detail the devastating effects of this ruthless business in the American southeast and provided the first comprehensive assessment of this trade.
Gallay and Brooks inspired an entire generation of academics to examine the fragmented evidence that sheds some light on this significant chapter of colonial history.19 In 2009, for example, Robbie Ethridge and Sheri Shuck-Hall edited a collection of essays that took Gallay’s topic further into Indian territory. Sixteen authors focus on native groups that were in various ways affected by the slave trade in the “Mississippian shatter zone” and sometimes beyond.20 In the same year, Gallay also edited a collection of essays that includes a wide spectrum of regional studies and approaches.21 Both books cover new ground and point in new directions of inquiry. In 2010 Christina Snyder shifted the emphasis of research back on the Native American experience and focused on the development of slavery from the perspective of various indigenous groups in the southeast.22 Margaret Ellen Newell recently produced the first comprehensive study of native slavery in New England, which demonstrates the way that slavery was present in this region from the beginning, reached its peak during King Philip’s War, and persisted well into the eighteenth century through legal mechanisms like “judicial enslavement.”23
In the past decade a new generation of historians has been pursuing questions regarding Indian enslavement in the Spanish, Dutch, French, Portuguese, and English colonies. Quite a few of these studies address the role of women, particularly in the borderlands.24 Brett Rushforth’s exhaustive study on New France and the French Caribbean, published in 2012, revised a body of scholarship and demonstrated how native slavery during the colonial period was intertwined with the larger Atlantic slave system.25 Nancy van Deusen placed the focus on a transatlantic dimension with an examination of slaves labeled as indios who fought for their freedom in sixteenth-century Spanish courts.26 Déborah Oropeza Keresey and Tatiana Seijas, by contrast, analyzed the transpacific trade of enslaved people from the Philippines who were taken to Mexico.27 These publications are supplemented by a number of recent regional studies of slavery within Central and South America.28 Andrés Reséndez’s The Other Slavery opened up to a wider audience the full scope of indigenous slavery, including how the United States dealt with its ongoing presence as the nation expanded westward in the nineteenth century.29 Some historians working on the Indian slave trade are moving toward a more integrative model, one that situates native slavery in relation to—and not separate from—African slavery. The two are inextricably entwined, whether in the very first joint Native American and African slave revolt on Santo Domingo in 1521 or in the sale of enslaved Pequot Indians from New England on Providence Island off the Mosquito Coast and the subsequent purchase of enslaved Africans.30
This volume builds on this exciting and recent body of scholarship to further investigate Indian enslavement and the slave trade in the New World. Drawing on new research, the authors address issues of native slavery in a wide range of regions, from the Philippines to Dutch Guiana, from New England to Chile, and in the frequent interregional nexuses between the localized sites of capture, enslavement, and transfer. The essays in this journal exemplify two important themes that frame new scholarship on Native American slavery in the early modern period. First, enslaved people were central to the success of European colonies in the New World. Collectively, native slaves contributed greatly to the Atlantic economy in various capacities on vessels, on plantations, in frontier camps, and in urban households, even as they themselves became commodities in the ever-widening circles of hemispheric trade. By the latter half of the seventeenth century indigenous slaves could be found at almost every level of colonial society and in every sector of colonial economies. Second, Native American slavery varied greatly over time and space, ranging from outright chattel slavery to more ambiguous forms of limited-term servitude. Natives experienced slavery in different ways in different locales as colonists tried to maximize indigenous utility and labor within the constraints of an evolving conversation about the legality of the enslavement of native populations.
In contrast to many regional studies, the time frame of the articles in this issue is rather narrow. Most contributions deal with a few decades in the second half of the seventeenth century. Such an approach allows for a comparative and contrastive perspective on Indian slavery that leads to a more comprehensive understanding of an important chapter in the history of the Americas. Furthermore, reaching out into space rather than into time acknowledges the fact that in the colonial world outside Europe there were few human-made boundaries. In practice, free and enslaved people moved, or were moved, with little restraint across frontiers and demarcation lines that existed primarily on maps or in the minds of ambitious rulers in far-distant metropolises. In fact, the following essays make clear that many enslaved people experienced a remarkable degree of mobility—mostly spatial mobility, which in some rare cases was connected to social mobility. One of the most fascinating aspects of these stories is the way natives tried to control their own destinies, resisting, reshaping, or simply making do with the circumstances they had been given. Of course, these observations should not downplay the fact that slavery and forced slave migrations too often turned out to be socially disruptive and deadly enterprises, and mortality was certainly very high.
The articles are organized geographically progressing from the Spanish mainland to the connection between Dutch Guiana and Barbados, touching the nexus region of the Caribbean, to the upper portions of the circuit of Indian enslavement on the Atlantic coast of North America, and finally turning inland to the Mississippian frontier zone. The extent of spatial overlap and interconnection in the Indian slave trade emerges in several articles. For example, indigenous laborers were not only shipped to Barbados from Dutch Guiana but also from New England, and dispersed Mayas supplemented the labor force in French and English colonies. The various economic functions that enslaved Native Americans fulfilled also become clear. Indigenous slaves were plantation laborers, mine workers, household servants, intercultural brokers, and military auxiliaries within different environments at about the same time. They appear to have served similar roles in the different colonial spheres, and there is a remarkable correspondence and congruity in the systems and structures that emerged to exploit Native American bodies.
The first article of this Ethnohistory issue deals with an important but almost entirely forgotten chapter of Spanish colonial policy. Between the 1660s and the 1680s the Spanish Crown launched a major campaign to ban the enslavement of indigenous people throughout its far-flung empire. Using this momentous crusade as a point of departure, Andrés Reséndez focuses on the principal slaving grounds of the Spanish empire, examines the participation of royal officials, colonists, and Indians during this protracted campaign, and provides an empire-wide view of the tremendous difficulties of emancipating Indian slaves. While all efforts to suppress ongoing enslavement ultimately failed, this article nevertheless demonstrates that the Spanish Crown developed a sense of enlightenment, ironically, at the same time that other European nations were more fully embracing the idea of native slavery and the Indian slave trade.
The next article connects the Spanish empire to the wider Caribbean and Atlantic World. Arne Bialuschewski shows that buccaneers not only preyed upon their European enemies but also abducted and enslaved many indigenous people, particularly Mayas from the coastal areas of Tabasco and the Yucatán Peninsula. While some captives spent a limited time with the marauders, others were taken overseas to French and English colonies all over the Caribbean and along the North American shoreline. This article deals with a diversity of slaveries, looking at indigenous people who were enslaved for labor, to serve as guides, to be traded in exchange for goods, to serve as coerced and uncoerced sexual partners, and to work as servants in various capacities and environments. Slavery among the buccaneers was fluid, and while some individuals got out of bondage many more were worked to death or fell victim to other lethal conditions that were all too common in the seventeenth century.
Carolyn Arena’s article focuses on the economic boom of Barbados, which was aided by the island’s unique relationship to indigenous actors in the Caribbean. It questions contemporary ethnographies of Carib and Arawak Indians that describe Indian slavery among English, French, and Dutch colonists in the Caribbean as a restrained practice. According to seventeenth-century writers, colonists considered Indian slaves to be weak or niche laborers. However, they also indicated that Guiana was the source of many enslaved Indians, suggesting that a more robust trade occurred. Arena uses Barbados’s foundational story to investigate the ongoing connections between the island and the Guiana region. It shows how English and Dutch colonists capitalized on indigenous trade routes and the captive taking between Caribs and Arawaks to buy or raid for slaves. This article also uses plantation deeds to suggest that Indian slavery tracked the path of African slavery. In the early seventeenth century Indian slaves had ambiguous legal positions, and after the transition to sugar production in the 1640s they were increasingly forced into perpetual chattel slavery. Barbados’s small island geography, compared to the frontier in Guiana, further facilitated the tightening controls over Indian and African slave populations throughout the seventeenth century.
The fourth article focuses on King Philip’s War and the 1670s, which represents the pinnacle of native enslavement by New Englanders. Linford D. Fisher looks at an underinvestigated group of Indians in the war, known as “the surrenderers,” and their fates. Some of them were sent “out of the country” as slaves, some were forced into slavery and servitude in English households, and still others were taken in by local native leaders like the Mohegan sachem Uncas, who tried to subvert English enslavement efforts. This article also shows that the threat of enslavement, and specifically overseas enslavement, weighed heavily on the psyche of New England natives and directly contributed to the prolongation of the war and the surrendering of some natives. These events cast a long shadow over New England natives as the war greatly disrupted families and communities. In many cases, limited-term slavery turned into multigenerational enslavement, lasting well into the eighteenth century.
The last article, by George Edward Milne, looks at Sieur de La Salle’s encounters with Indian slavery during his expeditions in North America in the late seventeenth century. La Salle and his fellow travelers witnessed different forms of slavery and made use of native slaves as guides, intercultural brokers, and means of cross-cultural exchange. The fact that the French themselves lived in an extremely hierarchical social order that included bondage and forced labor makes comparisons between the two parties particularly interesting. The experiences of La Salle and his companions suggest that within the social milieus of the late seventeenth century there were often few practical differences between the experiences of those who were legally free and those who were not. The ubiquity of social hierarchies also allowed those who resided in the upper strata to recognize those who held analogous positions despite cultural and linguistic divisions. The similarities that these structures shared allowed elites like La Salle and the leaders of polities in the lower Mississippi River valley to interact effectively. Indigenous headmen often underwrote their agreements with the exchange of slaves, a practice that La Salle quickly adopted in his diplomatic efforts to extend French influence into the heart of the continent.
The articles included in this issue of Ethnohistory were first presented at the annual meetings of the American Society for Ethnohistory in New Orleans in October 2013 and in Indianapolis in the following year. The panels were organized to expand the previous limits of this topic by bringing historians from different fields of expertise together to provide some insight into a wide spectrum of Indian enslavement across the Spanish, Dutch, English, and French colonial domains and to highlight the similarities and congruities that existed between the respective labor regimes. Readers will note that an article on the indigenous slave trade in Brazil is absent from this collection of articles. This omission is due, at least in part, to a forthcoming issue of this journal, which focuses on Brazilian native populations. Regardless of all shortcomings, this issue is prepared with the hope that these analyses, comparisons, contrasts, delineations, and interrelations make a substantial contribution to our understanding of Indian slavery in various parts of the Americas and will spur further research on this complex and important topic.
The authors would like to express their gratitude to Richard Conway, Jo Fisher, Erin W. Stone, and James A. Whitaker for their assistance during various stages of the completion of this article. Kris E. Lane and Alan Gallay were insightful commentators at the two Ethnohistory conference panels where the following articles originated, and Alexander Roper did a great job as editorial assistant of this volume.
1 In 1661 Governor Edward D’Oyley was instructed by the Duke of York, who was serving as the lord high admiral at the time, to not take any Indian prisoners or harm them, “but to show them all kindness & civility.” Instead, “all Indians and Spanish Prisoners” were to be given the option to be carried by ship from Jamaica to the Spanish mainland. See the journal of Edward D’Oyley, 18 August 1661, The British Library, London, Add. Ms. 12410, fol. 71.
2 Charles Modyford to Privy Council, 28 September 1670, the National Archives, London, Colonial Office 1/25, fol. 176. Thomas Modyford’s son Charles represented his father in London. An anthropologist has argued that slaves obtained on the Mosquito Coast were crucial to make up for a lack of African slaves in Jamaica in the late seventeenth century. See Helms, “Miskito Slaving and Culture Contact,” 179–97. However, there is no factual evidence to support such a claim.
3 Sir Thomas Lynch to the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, 29 November 1671, The British Library, Add. Ms. 11410, fols. 200–205.
4 For a few references to precontact slavery, see for example Valdiva Carrasco, El imperio esclavista de los Inkas, 13–74; Viau, Enfants du néant et mangeurs d’âmes, 187–99; and Santos-Granero, Vital Enemies, 17–64.
5 Brett Rushforth has estimated between 2 and 4 million natives were enslaved between 1492 and the mid-nineteenth century, whereas Andrés Reséndez most recently proposed the slightly higher range of 2.5 to 5 million until the end of the nineteenth century. Nancy van Deusen calculated that about 650,000 native slaves were brought overseas in the sixteenth century. See Rushforth, Bonds of Alliance, 9; Reséndez, Other Slavery, 5; van Deusen, Global Indios, 2. See also Weaver, Red Atlantic, 281–82.
6 Gallay, The Indian Slave Trade, 298–99.
7 Smallwood, Saltwater Slavery, 3.
8 Baldi Cabanillas, “La legislación social indiana,” 225–51; Dumont, La vraie controverse de Valladolid, 73–140; García Añoveros, “Carlos V y la abolición de la esclavitud de los indios.”
9 Fisher, “‘Dangerous Designes,’” 99–124.
10 Wheeler Lauber, Indian Slavery in Colonial Times.
11 Saco and Morales y Morales, Historia de la esclavitud de los indios.
12 Hanke, Aristotle and the American Indians; Sherman, Forced Native Labor.
13 A series of useful regional studies was published in the 1960s. See Trudel, L’esclavage au Canada français; Berthe, “Aspects de l’esclavage des Indiens en Nouvelle-Espagne”; Helmer, “Notes sur les esclaves indiens au Pérou”; Bailey, Indian Slave Trade in the Southwest; Chipman, “Traffic in Indian Slaves in the Province of Panuco”; Randolph, Las guerras de Arauco; Fernández Méndez, “Las encomiendas y esclavitud de los indios”; Zavala, Los esclavos indios en Nueva España; Handler, “Amerindian Slave Population of Barbados”; Zavala, “Los esclavos indios”; Sherman, “Indian Slavery and the Cerrato Reforms”; Jara, Guerra y sociedad en Chile; Snell, “Indian Slavery in Colonial South Carolina.” For further studies covering parts of South America, see, for example, Schwartz, “Indian Labor and New World Plantations,” Höner, Die Versklavung der brasilianischen Indianer; Hanisch Espíndola, “Esclavitud y libertad de los indios de Chile”; Sweet, “Francisca: Indian Slave”; Hoyo, Esclavitud y encomiendas de indios en el Nuevo Reino de León; Jiménez G., La esclavitud indígena en Venezuela; Monteiro, “From Indian to Slave”; Doucet, “Sobre cautivos de guerra y esclavos indios”; and Cuello, “Persistence of Indian Slavery.”
14 Usner, Indians, Settlers, and Slaves. Usner’s book followed on the heels of Starna and Watkins, “Northern Iroquoian Slavery.”
15 Donald, Aboriginal Slavery on the Northwest Coast of North America. This book was preceded by Mitchell, “Predatory Warfare, Social Status, and the North Pacific Slave Trade”; Ruby and Brown, Indian Slavery in the Pacific Northwest.
16 See, for example, early attempts to bring together this emerging scholarship in Magnaghi, Indian Slavery, Labor, Evangelization, and Captivity. Articles began appearing on the topic, too, including Saunt, “‘The English Has Now a Mind to Make Slaves of Them All.’”
17 Brooks, Captives and Cousins.
18 Gallay, Indian Slave Trade.
19 Bowne, Westo Indians; Hajda, “Slavery in the Greater Lower Columbia River Region”; DuVal, Native Ground; Guasco, “To ‘Doe Some Good upon Their Countrymen’”; Pratt and Carocci, Native American Adoption, Captivity, and Slavery; Donald, “Slavery in Indigenous North America”; Sommer, “Why Joanna Baptista Sold Herself into Slavery”; La Vere, Tuscarora War. For a recent survey, see Goetz, “Indian Slavery.”
20 Ethridge and Shuck-Hall, Mapping the Mississippi Shatter Zone.
21 Gallay, Indian Slavery in Colonial America.
22 Snyder, Slavery in Indian Country.
23 Newell, Brethren by Nature.
24 Barr, “From Captives to Slaves”; Cramaussel, Poblar la frontera; Ekberg, Stealing Indian Women.
25 Rushforth, Bonds of Alliance. This book was preceded by two articles, Rushforth, “‘A Little Flesh We Offer You’”; and Rushforth, “Slavery, the Fox Wars, and the Limits of Alliance.”
26 Van Deusen, Global Indios. This book was also preceded by two articles, van Deusen, “Intimacies of Bondage”; and van Deusen, “Seeing Indios in Sixteenth-Century Castille.”
27 Oropeza Keresey, “La esclavitud asiática en el virreinato de la Nueva España”; Seijas, Asian Slaves in Colonial Mexico.
28 Arenas Uriarte, “La esclavitud de los aborígenes en el Reino de Chile”; Barrera Monroy, “Los esclavos de las perlas”; Muñoz Correa, “La esclavitud indígena”; Schwerin, “Carib Warfare and Slaving”; Sommer, “Colony of the Sertão”; Valenzuela Márquez, “Esclavos Mapuches para una historia del secuestro y deportación de indígenas”; Obregón Iturra and Zavala, “Abolición y persistencia de la esclavitud indígena”; Whitehead, “Indigenous Slavery in South America”; O’Toole, Bound Lives; Ibarra Rojas, Pueblos que capturan. For Brazil, see also Monteiro, Negros da terra.
29 Reséndez, Other Slavery.
30 Games, “‘Sanctuarye of our Rebell Negroes’”; Stone, “America’s First Slave Revolt.” See also Faggins, Africans and Indians; Brooks, Confounding the Color Line; Naylor, African Cherokees in Indian Territory; Warsh, “Enslaved Pearl Divers”; Howlett Hayes, Slavery before Race; Martin and Brooks, Linking the Histories of Slavery.