TEXTILES AND IDENTITY AT THE PRESIDIO DURING SPANISH COLONIAL OCCUPATION: 1776-1822

A thesis submitted to the faculty of San Francisco State University ^ * In partial fulfillment of the requirements for bJ'Trt 4 the Degree

Master of Arts

In

Anthropology: Archaeology

by

Candice Barbara Marie Ward

San Francisco, California

May 2018 Copyright by Candice Barbara Marie Ward 2018 CERTIFICATION OF APPROVAL

I certify that I have read TEXTLES AS IDENTITY RESHAPERS AND REINFORCERS

AT THE SAN FRANCISCO PRESIDIO DURING SPANISH OCCUPATION, 1776-1822 by Candice Barbara Marie Ward, and that in my opinion this work meets the criteria for approving a thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirement for the degree Master of Arts: Anthropology: Archaeology at San Francisco State University.

Meredith Reifschneider Ph.D. Assistant Professor of Anthropology

Doug BaileyrPlyD. Associate Professor of Anthropology TEXTLES AS IDENTITY RESHAPERS AND REINFORCERS AT THE SAN FRANCISCO PRESIDIO DURING SPANISH OCCUPATION, 1776-1822

Candice Barbara Marie Ward San Francisco, California 2018

Colonized by 30 settler-soldiers and their families in 1776, el Presidio de San Francisco was New Spain’s northwesternmost outpost. Despite their status as Spanish colonial subjects, the people who occupied the Presidio were of mixed Spanish, Mexican, and African descent. They belonged to the sistema de castas - a race-based caste system utilized by Spanish rulers to govern people of “unpure” blood throughout Spanish Empire. Phenotypical traits such as skin color and hair texture were important factors that determined one’s casta ranking, but perceived purity of blood, mannerisms, and most importantly, clothing, were vital to situating one’s social position within the Spanish Empire. Cuadros de castas, or casta paintings, were created for the Spanish ruling class, and offered idealized version of how members of each casta should dress. Clothing-related archaeological evidence indicates colonial subjects at the Presidio belonged to lower castas, and suggest settlers used clothing to shed their casta identities and form the nascent Californio ethnic group. Less is known about how casta paintings and clothing were used by Spanish elite and the colonial to signify identity and place in the Spanish colonial social hierarchy, and simultaneously uphold and subvert the sistema de castas. My research seeks to assess this research gap and shift the focus away from the narratives of Spanish institutions and high-ranking officials to the members of the lower castas and indigenous peoples. By comparing Cuadros de castas and textile-related archaeological evidence at the Presidio, I examine how colonial subjects used clothing to reshape and reinforce their identities at el Presidio de San Francisco and situate themselves within the Spanish Empire.

I certify that the abstract is a correct representation of the content of this thesis.

Chair, Thesis Committee ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would first like to thank my advisor Dr. Meredith Reifschneider. Through her guidance I was able to transform my research from a nebulous construction into a cohesive body of work. Her counsel led me over many hurdles, and her support helped me realize my research goals. I could not have written my thesis without her expertise, encouragement, and sober perspective. I will continue to be inspired by her long after my tenure at San Francisco State University is through. I would also like to thank Dr. Douglass Bailey. Under his watch my writing and critical thinking skills were sharpened, and I was able to pinpoint my academic interests.

Additionally, I thank Dr. Alijandra Mogilner at the San Diego Presidio for her enthusiastic conversations regarding all things textiles in Alta California, and for granting me access to historical images and inventory lists. Thank you to the San Francisco Presidio Park Archives and Records Center for allowing access to historical documents, and the Denver Art Museum for allowing me permission to use images of Francisco Clapera’s casta paintings in my thesis.

To my cohort, I thank you and appreciate your comradery, capabilities, and persistence. You will be the ones that change the world for the better. A special thanks to Karin for the check-ins and brainstorm sessions. Thanks to Paula, Misty, Jana, Sheyda, Dhoryan, Shane, Stella, and Phil for the perspective-shifting conversations and unwavering support.

Finally, I’d like to thank my family and friends, who helped me navigate grad school through the times of tribulation and celebration. Thanks to my father, Michael, for helping me think through difficult problems. Thanks to my mother, Jill, for offering commiseration. Thanks to my sister, Roshanda, for being a voice of reason. Thanks to Alex, who believed in me from the get-go and pushed for me to apply to the anthropology program at SFSU. Thanks to my dearest friends Katina, Allison, Chakira, and Megan, for being there every hour of every day and reminding there’s more to life than what’s going on inside my own head. Thanks to my partners Jasha and Antonia, for all of the historic and philosophical adventures, and for seeing me through. Last but not least I would like to thank my strong community of friends whom I could not individually name. I am so lucky to know you, and this thesis is as much for you as it is for me.

This thesis is dedicated to my grandparents James Ward, Barbara Ward, Rhonda Sperry, and my Aunts Aggie, Theresa, Bernice, and Char. Your unwavering support and enthusiasm for my passions and interests will always mean the world to me.

5 TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Table...... viii

List of Figures...... ix

Introduction...... 1

Research Goals...... 2

Organization of Chapters...... 6

Literature Review...... 11

A Practice Theory-Based Framework...... 11

Spanish Colonial Archaeology in California...... 18

The Archaeology of Textiles in Spanish Colonialism...... 25

Background...... 31

The Colonialization of the Americas...... 31

The Founding and Establishment of Alta California...... 33

Alta California’s Presidios and Mission System...... 35

The Founding of el Presidio de San Francisco...... 38

The Sistema de Castas and Clothing at el Presidio de San Francisco...... 45

Sumptuary Laws...... 50

Casta Paintings...... 50

Military Ranking...... 51

Clothing and Identity at el Presidio de San Francisco...... 52

6 TABLE OF CONTENTS Methods...... 53

Analysis...... 64

Casta Painting Individual Analysis...... 64

Archaeological Evidence...... 103

Conclusion...... 113

Discussion...... 116

Bibliography...... 133 LIST OF TABLES

Table Page

1. Casta Classifications ....48

8 LIST OF FIGURES

Figures Page

1. 1776 San Francisco Presidio Population by Age and Sex...... „..39 2. 1776 Casta Ranking Percentages...... 40 3. 1790 San Francisco Presidio Population by Age and Sex...... 44 4. 1790 Casta Ranking Percentages...... 45 5. De Espanol, e India, nace Mestizo...... 69 6. De Espanol, y Castiza, Espanol...... 73 7. De Espanol, y Mestizo, Castizo...... 76 8. De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato...... 78 9. De Mulato, y Espanol, Morisco...... 80 10. De Morisco, y Espanola, Alvina...... 82 11. De Alvina, y Espanol, Torna-atras...... 84 12. De Torna-atras, e Indio, Lobo...... 86 13. De Lobo, e India, Saimbaigo...... 88 14. Saimbaigo, e India, Cambujo...... 90 15. De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado...... 92 16. De Albarazado, y Mestizo, Barcina...... 94 17. De Barcino, y Mulata, China...... 96 18. De Chino, e India, Genizara...... 98 19. De Genizaro, y Mulata, Gibaro...... 100 20. De Gibaro, y Mulata, Tente en el Ayre...... 102

9x 1

Chapter I Introduction

This thesis project problematizes the visualization of Spanish elites’ sartorial expectations of casta members through taxonomical paintings, explores whether textile- related archaeological evidence aligns with these expectations, and considers whether the sistema de castas is an appropriate model to analyze textile-related archaeological evidence at the San Francisco Presidio. The Spanish colonial settlers who arrived from

Sonora, Mexico, and Tubac, Arizona in 1776 were lower-ranking members of the sistema de casta, or race-based caste system. Their social status was visually expressed through their clothing, but the settlers eventually rejected the sistema de castas to form the nascent Californio ethnicity.

This project utilizes a series of sixteen cuadros de castas (casta paintings) created by Francisco Clapera in 1775, and archaeological evidence from two trash middens found in proximity to the Presidio’s original quadrangle to address the ways in which Spanish colonial subjects used clothing to navigate their social positions within the Spanish empire. The casta paintings exhibit sartorial expectations for each casta ranking, and inventory lists dated throughout occupation of the San Francisco Presidio, which provide insight into what clothing items Spanish colonial subjects at the Presidio had access to.

This project contributes to the archaeology of Alta California by examining how clothing disrupted the perceived colonial order at the San Francisco Presidio, and considers how 2

the intersections of ethnicity, gender, and textiles highlight tensions between daily practice and colonial institutional attributes of the “properly dressed body.”

Research Goals

Alta California was initially colonized in the 1700s as an attempt to protect New

Spain from potential foreign invasion from Russian fur traders. Between 1769 and 1782, four presidios were established in San Diego, Santa Barbara, Monterey, and San

Francisco (Blind et al. 2004). The presidios acted as administrative centers for pueblos, ranchos reales (royal ranches), and twenty-one Alta California missions within their respective districts. The Presidio de San Francisco was founded by Juan Bautista de Anza in 1776 who brought with him 191 settlers of Espanol/a, Mestizo/a, Mulato/a, and Indio/a casta ranking from Sonora, Mexico and Tubac, Arizona. The settlers consisted of 30 soldiers and their families, who were chosen for their ability to procreate and eventually populate the San Francisco Bay Area. They were impoverished and desperate to make a living and took actions to distinguish themselves from local indigenous populations

(Voss 2008a).

Over time, they abandoned casta terminology and almost universally applied the term “Californio” to describe their ethnic identity. Cuadros de castas of the late 18th century were based on Enlightenment-era scientific and taxonomical studies, and demonstrated the ways in which various casta members and their offspring were expected to dress. Little is known about whether early casta settlers, local indigenous 3

groups, and their descendants conformed to sartorial expectations visualized in the paintings, or whether they even aware of the paintings and the power of their hegemonic forces. This project underscores the ways in which settlers’ clothing choices were motivated by their engagement in daily practices and colonial institutions’ expectations of different social classes.

In developing my approach, I rely on the social theories of practice and structuration (Bourdieu 1977, Giddens 1984). According to Pierre Bourdieu’s landmark publication Outline o f a Theory o f Practice, the concept of “practice” is key to understanding human action. “Practice” refers to the daily conventions or routines a person takes, such as personal hygiene, making a meal, or making a daily commute. It also refers to the disciplined training necessary to learn a skill, such as sewing or construction. As humans become “actors” who move through social spheres, their actions make up and are conducted through practices, which always create a broader social or political consequence (Bourdieu 1977). Similar to practice theory, structuration rejects objective functionalism and encourages researchers to consider an individual’s intentions and motivations in social relations. Structure is defined as social relations which create systems, and structure and social systems always have a dynamic dialectic relationship with one another. The outcomes of interactions between social relations and social structures are not always possible to predict (Giddens 1984).

Casta paintings set the guidelines of dress in New Spain, while archaeological evidence provides insight about the ways in which colonial subjects navigated sumptuary 4

edicts of the Spanish elite. Both bodies of evidence must be examined in conjunction with one another to provide the clearest picture of how colonial subjects used clothing to reinforce and reshape their identities. Casta paintings were created for members of the

Spanish elite to ease their insecurity about ruling over non-Spanish people on a near- global scale. Colonial subjects did not always conform to the strict Spanish Bourbon sumptuary laws depicted in the paintings and frequently disregarded accepted modes of dress to meet the needs of a diversity of physical and cultural environments that were unique to each Spanish colonial site (Lightfoot et al. 1998, Loren 2007). Archaeological evidence of textiles at the Presidio is non-existent and out of over a million artifacts found, only a few dozen are clothing-related durable goods such as buttons and beads

(Voss 2008a, b). This suggests that people who occupied the Presidio were of lower social rankings and did not have access to clothing-related prestige goods or luxury materials such as gold, silver, or gemstones.

This project addresses gaps in previous research in the archaeology of cultural contact in Alta California, and the archaeology of textiles and identity at the San

Francisco Presidio. The archaeology of Alta California during Spanish occupation is characterized by a theoretical framework outlined by Kenneth Lightfoot et al. (1998) which focuses on the ways in which daily practices create change in multi-ethnic communities, and the consequences of European expansion. It utilizes a bottom-up approach based on practice theory and structuration to emphasize local actors’ agency.

Care must be taken to not imply that colonial subjects’ actions were intentional or 5

strategic, or that they were aware of the consequences their actions would create

(Bourdieu 1977, Giddens 1984, Silliman 2001). Bottom up perspectives are useful for analyzing the ways individuals who lived in rapidly changing colonial societies meaningfully and effectively reconstitute their old practices under new conditions

(Lightfoot et al. 1998). Bottom-up perspectives focus on spatial organizations and built environments, in addition to the material residues that accumulate as a result of daily practice. Continuing in the tradition of the archaeology of Alta California, this research shifts the focus away from the narratives of Spanish institutions and high-ranking Spanish officials towards lower-ranking members of the sistema de castas and indigenous peoples who occupied the San Francisco Presidio. However, this research does not focus on spatial organizations or built environments, primarily because there is not enough archaeological evidence to support any theories of how built environments affected clothing choices at the Presidio.

Archaeological excavations at the San Francisco Presidio unearthed many artifacts, but few elucidate how clothing shaped the settlers’ daily lives and social roles or influenced their relationship with local indigenous people. Archaeological research at the

Presidio is limited by “temporal bias that emphasizes the late Mexican era and the early period of U.S. rule, [and]... institutional focus on ranchos, and, secondarily, missions and the neglect of presidios and pueblos, [and] and overemphasis on discourse at the expense of practice” (Voss 2008a: 111). Because of these research limitations, little is known about how colonial subjects’ relationship to clothing was influenced by visual hegemonic 6

forces such as cuadros de castas. Current research asserts that the settlers eventually abandoned the casta terminology, and that the settlers rejected the sistema de castas as they became first Espaholes and then Californios. I argue that clothing played a vital role in the settlers’ attempts to improve their hierarchical ranking, which led to the abandonment of the sistema de castas in favor of the nascent Californio ethnicity. Settlers at the San Francisco Presidio did not have much freedom of expression through their clothing choices, which is contradictory to how casta members are portrayed in cuadros de castas. Problematizing these paintings as literal representations of casta members and comparing the paintings to textile-based archaeological evidence provides information about why the settlers initially accepted and attempted to improve their social position within the sistema de castas, but eventually rejected it.

Organization of Chapters

Chapter 2 contains the literature review for this research project. The first section outlines a theoretical framework strongly based in practice theory and structuration

(Bourdieu 1977, Giddens 1984), and reviews the usage of practice theory within the archaeology of Spanish colonialism in the United States. The second section discusses

Spanish colonial archaeology in California, while noting the impact of applying practice theory to the archaeology of cultural contact. The third section outlines the archaeology of textiles and identity within the archaeology of Spanish colonialism. 7

Within the first section, I define the elements of practice theory that are utilized throughout my analysis - actor/agency theory, habitus and judgement of taste. I also define elements of structuration that are used throughout my analysis - rules and resources, capability and knowledgeability, and identity and routine. I then consider the application of practice theory within the archaeology of Spanish colonialism. I highlight key themes such as theoretical differences in American East Coast and West Coast

Spanish colonial archaeology, researchers’ emphasis on agency as a tool to negotiate social status, and a focus on gender, ethnic, and racial identity.

The second section of the literature review targets Spanish colonial archaeology in Alta California. It outlines the bottom up, agency-based theoretical approach first utilized by Kenneth Lightfoot et al. (1998). I define the parameters of practice theory within Alta California archaeology and highlight the importance of practice politics when attempting to understand unequal social situations such as colonialism. The second subsection discusses cultural change during cultural contact, while the third section reviews archaeologists’ shift from a colonized/colonizer dichotomy towards an archaeology of social diversity.

The third section of the literature review addresses previous archaeological research of textiles within New Spain during the 18th and early 19th centuries, and anthropological perspectives of textiles in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. The section begins with a discussion of why people wear clothing and how societies in different temporal-spatial locations view dress. Next, the lack of preserved clothing in 8

archaeological sites is problematized. Finally, the current state of the archaeology of clothing and adornment is highlighted, and the potential future of the field is brought into question.

Chapter 3 provides background context in Spanish colonialism to facilitate an understanding of why the Spanish crown and Spanish colonial settlers occupied Alta

California and the Presidio. A brief history of the San Francisco Presidio and information about the people who occupied the San Francisco peninsula follows. The background’s first subsection provides a brief overview of Spanish colonialization in the Americas from Columbus’ initial landing at Hispaniola in 1492 through the occupation of New

Spain and primarily Mexico into the 1600s, and the expansion of New Spain into New

Mexico and the American Southwest. The second subsection explains that Alta California was occupied by Spain in the late 1700s to prevent European rivals from invading the heart of New Spain from the northwest. The third subsection offers a history of the four presidios of Alta California and illuminates a symbiotic relationship between the mission system and the presidios. It also discusses the effects of the mission system on local indigenous populations. The fourth subsection explains how the Presidio de San

Francisco was established and outlines the demographics of the Presidio occupants. The fifth subsection section details the rules and regulations of the sistema de castas, and describes contemporaneous sumptuary laws.

Chapter 4 describes the methodology employed during this research project. It is broken down into three sections. The first section posits several research questions that 9

are addressed in the analysis section and explains how I intend to address them using the theoretical frameworks outlined in the literature review. The second section describes the research methodology I use to analyze a series of sixteen casta paintings created by

Francisco Clapera in 1775.1 observe different attributes within each painting, focusing on clothing and appearance-related details. I note the presence and absence of details such as luxury goods, clothing colors, hairstyles, and accessories, and clothing-related hardware, and ask questions about the identity of the subjects in each painting. I also survey material culture and the overall mood of each painting. In the third section, I compare textile-related archaeological evidence, including buttons, buckles, beads, and religious ornaments found at the Presidio to Clapera’s casta paintings.

I apply methodologies to practice in the chapter five analysis. The chapter begins with a description of each of the sixteen panels in Francisco Clapera’s series of casta paintings. Each painting depicts at least one of the four castas present at the San

Francisco Presidio, and in the discussion of each panel I emphasize those subjects whose class presence was noted at the Presidio in historical records. I also discuss other aspects of each painting, including castas not present at the San Francisco Presidio, material culture, occupation, and overall mood of the painting. After I detail each painting, I make comparisons between casta, gender, and age group (adult or child).

Because there are so few durable, textile-related objects found at the site, researchers must rely on other bodies of evidence to create a clearer picture of whether or not San Francisco Presidio colonial subjects fulfilled the sartorial expectations of the 10

Spanish crown. In the second section of the analysis, I introduce textile-related archaeological evidence from the Presidio. I then compare each of the four categories of artifacts found (buttons, buckles, beads, and religious ornaments) to the findings in

Clapera’s casta paintings.

The conclusion in chapter six provides a synopsis of this thesis’s research goals and summarizes the results of the analysis. I problematize the usage of Clapera’s casta paintings as a litmus test for the properly dressed casta member and compare and contrast the practicality of the paintings and archaeological evidence in relation to the goals of this project. I also addresses the two overarching goals of this project: to address the ways in which colonial subjects navigated Spanish Bourbon sartorial expectations visualized through casta paintings as the stipulations of the sistema de castas shifted to accommodate complex cultural interactions on local and global scales, and to question whether the sistema de castas is an appropriate model for examining textile-related archaeological artifacts at the Presidio.

In the final chapter, I address general patterns among casta ranking, gender, and age groups in Clapera’s paintings, and incorporate my theoretical framework into the discussion to explore how daily practices and structuration may have influenced Spanish colonial subjects’ modes of dress at the San Francisco Presidio. I question whether

Presidio residents dressed in a manner that conformed to Spanish elites’ sartorial expectations, and note that while there was a strong military and religious presence at the

Presidio, it is absent in a direct sense from the paintings. I then compare and contrast 11

Clapera’s painting style to textile-related archaeological evidence, and comment on the lack of beads and fine detail in his paintings. Next, I question who is represented in

Clapera’s paintings and in the archaeological evidence and highlight the importance of judgement of taste as markers of social ranking within the sistema de castas. Finally, I situate the colonial subject’s race, gender, and age within the Spanish Empire, and argue that the sistema de castas is a valid model through which to view Spanish colonial subjects at the San Francisco Presidio.

Chapter II Literature Review

The archaeology of Spanish colonialism utilizes strong theoretical frameworks that explore colonial subjects’ movement within Spanish colonial institutions. Practice theory emphasizes the dynamics relationship between individual actions and social structures and provides insight into the processes that led to clothing-related decisions at the San Francisco Presidio. My thesis relies on the following aspects of practice theory: actor/agency theory, habitus and judgement of taste, and structuration. Since the 1990s, archaeologists have used practice theory to create a theoretical framework that takes interest in the full range of people subjected to the processes of colonial expansion to

“reframe the issue of cultural change in terms of the mutually constitutive interaction of human actors and social structures, particularly with regard to the often strategic production of new identities” (Van Buren 2010: 151-152).

Practice and Actor/Agency Theory 12

“Practice” is a social theory used to understand human actions (Bourdieu 1977).

“Practice” can refer to the conventions or routines a person follows, such as cooking dinner every night or marriage customs. It can also refer to the disciplined training necessary to learn a skill such as carpentry or weaving. Human actions are made up of and conducted through practices, and actions always result in broader social and political outcomes. As actions are conducted, people become “actors” who move through social spheres. Objects structure human action and human conduct, and actions always result in outcomes or consequences. Social action is not necessarily determined by preexisting social rules because actors interpret and assess rules and use them as a template that they may or may not follow. The abstract nature of actions can lead scholars to unnecessarily ascribe meaning to actions in relation to objects. Scholars must also be careful to not conflate action with meaning (Campbell 1996: 195).

Habitus and Judgement of Taste

Practice theory arose as a poststructuralist, postmodern response to structuralism

(Bourdieu 1977). By examining human actions, or practices, and the ways in which people navigate social systems, practice theory offers more detailed study of human conduct than structuralism is able to provide. Habitus, which was originally offered as an alternative to objectivism, is an aspect of practice theory that examines the regulated and regular organization of practices. Within the concept of habitus, people do not need to be fully aware of how their actions are organized to advance their own interests or the interests of members of their social class. Although habitus only exists in an individual’s 13

actions, its accumulative effects contribute to the overall structure of a society.

Judgement of taste and cultural capital are concepts that are closely related to habitus.

They are ingrained deeply into social systems and play an important role in power dynamics. Judgement of taste and cultural capital affect an individual’s consumption of both food and goods and are tied to moral status.

Structuration

Structuration is a post-empiricist social theory that analyses social structures and agents to create and reproduce social systems. Structure is the arrangement of institutions that societies interface and live within (Giddens 1984), and agency is a person’s ability to make decisions and act independently. Structure and agency interact with one another and are inseparable from each other. Structuration theory emphasizes that both micro­ focused (everyday face-to-face interactions) and macro-focused (social systems and social structures) analysis must occur in order to address the various ontologies of the human experience.

Structuration examines abstract concepts and acknowledges that human beings are not subject only to empirical rules. Whereas the concept of habitus is meant to work in conjunction with objectivism, structuration rejects objectivism’s focus on detached structures and subjectivism’s focus on individual and group agency without socio- structural context (Giddens 1984), and generally rejects epistemology and traditional scientific research methodology. 14

Structuration attempts to move beyond Karl Marx’s concept of “the motor of history” (Marx 1848) and class conflict, and does not assume conflict occurs under the

“oppressor/oppressed, conqueror/conquered” dialectic outlined by Marx and subsequent anthropological researchers. Instead, it uses “the duality of structure” (Giddens 1984) to emphasize structure as a medium and an outcome, and examines the interplay of ideation and material, and micro and macro scales. Under structuration, the idea of societal

“adaptation” - that working class is universal class and socialism is ideal society - is challenged. Structuration clarifies logical issues of past sociologists such as Karl Marx,

Max Weber, and Emile Durkheim, but also introduces novel ideas from other disciplines such as psychology, fine arts, and biology (Giddens 1984).

The Elements of Structuration: Rules and Resources, Capability and Knowledgeability, and Identity and Routine

In a group of people, a person chooses how to behave or takes specific actions.

Similar to habitus, the collective actions become the structure of a group, and in turn those actions have the ability to empower or limit power of group (Bourdieu 1977,

Giddens 1984). Rules and resources influence the actions of the group, and in turn the groups’ actions manipulate the society’s rules and resources, while resources are objects that may be obtained to help an individual or group get things done. Rules create an understanding of how things should work and are learned throughout life. The rules shift throughout life and may differ depending on a person’s placement in a social structure. 15

Rules are created from three basic structures: signification, legitimation, and domination.

Signification is how an event should be interpreted, legitimation is what should happen in a given situation, and domination is what means should be used to accomplish goals.

Every person has different interpretations and understanding of these rules and different social positions can change the person’s perspective of the rules.

Humans are reflective agents who have the ability to contemplate their own actions and the actions of others and make choices based on their perceptions. Capability is the power to intervene, influence, and abdicate choice (Giddens 1984), while knowledgeability is the ability to monitor and respond to oneself and others. Discursive knowledgeability is the ability to discuss why a person performs an action, while practical knowledgeability is the ability to make choices coupled with the inability to articulate why a choice was made until someone asks about them. Unconscious knowledgeability is the ability respond to environment coupled with the inability to explain why a particular response was made (Giddens 1984). All forms of knowledgeability have unintended and unforeseeable consequences.

Structuration theory is also characterized by identity and routines. Identity is the shifting ways in which people see themselves and others and routines are patterns of behavior that are taken for granted. Human behavior is based on the structures that surround them, but the structures also change based on people’s behavior. Chosen behaviors either create new supportive structures or work against existing structures. 16

Usage of Practice Theory Within the Archaeology of Spanish

Colonialism

From the early 1990s, the archaeology of Spanish colonialism has followed two theoretical trajectories (Van Buren 2010: 171). The first trajectory approaches Spanish colonialism with a bottom-up understanding of acculturation (Wolf 1982) and largely focuses on the US East Coast and the Caribbean. The second trajectory combines frameworks outlined in practice theory (Bourdieu 1977, Giddens 1984) and is largely used by archaeologists based on the United States West Coast. Rather than rely on one theoretical framework over another, researchers have examined social theories in conjunction with each other. By pulling from various facets of practice theory, archaeologists emphasize the ways individual actions and social groups navigated processes set in place by colonialist expansion and subjugation, and reject “the concept of discrete, bounded cultures” (Van Buren 2010:152). As a result, they have found Spanish colonial subjects navigated economic, political, and cultural processes differently at separate locations throughout the empire.

A key theme in archaeologists’ usage of practice theory is to examine what methods colonial subjects used to express their agency as a means to negotiate their social status during cultural contact. Agency theory “[enables] archaeologists to move beyond grounding the motivations for people’s actions up the satisfaction of general systematic needs... and “[seeks] the motivation for action in strategic desires that had 17

been formulated with reference to the cultural logics through which “agents” understood their place in history...” (Barret 2012: 163). As the terms “behavior” and “evolution” were replaced with “practice” and “theory” (Pauketat 2001:73), emphasis was placed on the ways people negotiated their views of others and their pasts, and the actions that they took. The shift away from positivism and the rejection of causality have led to an understanding that practices are the historical processes, not just the consequences of those processes. Today, many approaches to agency are led by neo-Marxist, post- processualists, and feminists studies and come from political-economic sources (Pauketat

2001:74).

Theorists have tried to disconnect from the idea that actions are always tactical or strategic. “People enact, embody, or re-present traditions in ways that continuously alter those traditions” (Pauketat 2001:74), and people’s motivations do not always align with the intended consequences. When scholars stop attempting to make agency about goal- oriented actions, behavior becomes practice. Gender has been tied to daily practices such as labor and domestic activities, and to socio-political structures such as social status and ethnogenesis (Deagan 1983, Voss 2005, Hu 2013). Archaeologists emphasize that colonial subjects throughout the Spanish Empire who shared the same gender did not intrinsically share the same self-perception of their identity (Voss 2005). Soldiers stationed in Los Andeas, Texas, for instance, perceived their social statuses differently than soldiers at the San Francisco Presidio (Loren 2007). 18

Due in part to the prominence of multidirectional agency theory, within the last twenty-five years researchers have become interested in the archaeology of ethnicity and ethnogenesis (Hu 2013, Van Buren 2010). Archaeologists of Spanish colonialism who utilize practice theory have taken a more careful consideration of ethnicity than structuralist approaches traditionally have. This reveals three components of ethnicity at cultural contact: “(1) how insiders view membership, (2) how outsiders relate to and interact with insiders, and (3) how and why institutions draw boundaries around and classify people” (Hu 2013:374, Bourdieu 1990:14, 27). Symbols of ethnic membership can reinforce insular social interactions and perpetuate distinctive conducts of everyday life (Hu 2013: 374). It has been argued that people gravitate towards others who physically resemble themselves and move away from people with “perceptible differences in the conduct of everyday life” (Weber 1978:390), and symbols of ethnic membership can reinforce insular social interactions, perpetuate distinctive conducts of everyday life (Hu 374). Some symbols, such as hair odor or clothing styles, are not abstract. Within the archaeology of ethnicity at cultural contact, . .practice theory explains the mechanism of the perpetuation of insularity in social relations” (Hu

2013:374).

Spanish Colonial Archaeology in Alta California

The archaeology of Alta California is characterized by a multiscalar, practice theory-based bottom-up approach that emphasizes Spanish colonialism’s effects on indigenous peoples. Many archaeologists who research on the United States’ West Coast 19

(Lightfoot 2005a, b; Silliman 2001a, b, 2004; Voss 2002, 2003, 2005, 2008a, b, c) and some who study other geographical locations of the Spanish Empire (Jamieson 2000;

Loren 2001a, b, 2007, 2008; Scarry 2001) utilize a theoretical framework outlined in the landmark publication Daily Practice and Material Culture in Pluralistic Social Settings:

An Archaeological Study o f Culture Change and Persistence from Fort Ross, California

(Lightfoot et al. 1998). While the study does not focus on Spanish colonialism directly, it does discuss cultural change in multi-ethnic communities through daily practices. An agency-based model based on practice theory and structuration is used, as is a bottom-up approach that emphasizes local actors’ agency and the consequences of European expansion. This perspective is particularly useful when analyzing the ways in which individuals living under colonialist settings “characterized by rapidly shifting and internally diverse social fields reconstituted their practices in ways that allowed them to be both meaningful and effective under new conditions” (Van Buren 2010: 158).

Methodologically, this perspective is associated with the residues that are the result of daily routines, which accumulate within built environments, rather than “the quantitative assessment of artifact assemblages” (Van Buren 2010: 158).

The archaeology of Alta California attempts to define the parameters of practice theory during Spanish occupation, emphasizes cultural change during cultural contact, and shifts research away from a colonizer/colonized dichotomy towards a perspective that embraces social diversity. Archaeologists use practice theory and structuration to undermine processual archaeologies, study ethnicity and identity, and call attention to 20

social evolutionary processes and political struggles, examine gender, space and technology, and resistance (Silliman 2001:192).Throughout these themes runs a common thread in which archaeologists shift their focus towards indigenous people at the time of

European contact and the consequences of those interactions, gender, labor, class differences, and identity. Archaeologists’ utilization of practice theory has been successful because it addresses routine, tradition, and everyday life as it “[relates] to lived experiences and power” (Silliman 2001: 191).

Defining the parameters of practice theory

Practice theory can be utilized in prehistoric and historic archaeology and is useful when privileging native perspective in colonial archaeology and when examining why natives were subjugated under European colonialization. Practice theory is also at the core of much contemporary social theory in interpretive archaeology (Silliman 2001:

191). However, the parameters of action - “the alternatives and limitations for an individual in any given social setting” (Silliman 2001, Wobst 2000:41) - are still up for debate, and it is argued that “more attention should be devoted to sorting out [these] parameters.”

The archaeology of Alta California attempts to “expand applicability of practice theory to archaeology” (Silliman 2001: 191) by utilizing the concepts of doxa and practice politics in tandem with one another. Doxic practices are identified archaeologically to sort out the nuances of social agency. In contrast with Bourdieu’s 21

original usage of the concept, Alta California archaeologists’ application of doxa is multiscalar. Doxa “embodies contestation and opinion in its juxtaposition between heterodoxy and orthodoxy (Silliman 2001: 194) and “demarcates the boundaries of the overtly political by delimiting the taken-for-granted aspects of social interaction”

(Silliman 2001:193). Some doxic practices are unintentional and some are intentional.

The creation and destruction of doxa is a political process, associated with ideology. It can happen in social spheres or in an individual’s practices throughout their everyday lives.

Within the archaeology of Alta California, practical politics “[serve] to widen that which is considered political” (Silliman 2001:193). Politics surround but do not always infiltrate daily practice, especially doxic practice (194), and it has been argued that very few practices actually occur in a doxa (194). Politics are not static, and shifting edges of doxa are highly pronounced in colonial contexts. Practical politics - the “negotiation of politics of social position and identity in daily practices” - “broadens the scope of political relevance to include everyday practices since these comprise the lived experience of individuals” (Silliman 2001: 194). When individuals attempt to make a place for themselves in the social world, they are creating analytically important acts of resistance which may have little or nothing to do with outright resistance. Many social agents are not active revolutionaries, even if they want to be.

In highly unequal social situations such as colonialism, the politics of daily practice appear in two ways: those who seek to dominate can attempt to control everyday 22

activities, bodies, and routines (practice become political), as the Spanish mission system did from the 16th to 19th centuries, or through the politicization of quotidian practices which exert social agency. People may express resistance or compliance within power structures, but individuals are often aware that they’re being watched. In contrast, nonconduct or inaction can represent the depoliticization of practice. Individuals can also use new and traditional daily practices to rework identity, “often through the appropriation of material culture” (Silliman 2001: 195). The appropriation of material culture does not necessarily constitute an act of resistance, but it can contribute to the ways in which ethnic groups choose to commodify their identities, or “attach [their identities] to equally consciously chosen material signs” (Silliman 2001: 195). Material change usually denotes social change in archaeological contexts, but archaeologists rarely have a chance to see how the lack of material change represents changes in practical politics (Silliman 2001: 205). Numerous studies show indigenous people acted in ways that made sense to them (Lightfoot et al. 1998, Milliken 1996, Sahlins 1981; Thomas

1991), and Silliman’s 2001 study of indigenous laborers at Rancho Petaluma observes how material culture “provided a novel suite of items for use in social strategies and relations” (Silliman 2001: 196). Many indigenous-owned items found had no local history, suggesting that natives were capable of appropriating materials that revolve around shifting practical politics to negotiate social relations (196).

Cultural change during cultural contact 23

Archaeologists of Alta California are drawn to identity’s influence on change during cultural contact because identities had to be refashioned as a result of cultural contact (Voss 2005: 461). “Moments of colonialism and culture contact” are ideal for exploring practice theory-related concepts because the meetings of different cultural groups within a nexus often demonstrate severe cultural inequalities (Silliman 2001:

192). Researchers used to emphasize the effects of European contact on indigenous peoples, but now acknowledge that European people were also often moved throughout the globe to participate in the processes of colonialization. This movement led to ethnic ambiguity and the formation of new racial groups. Cultural contact studies used to

“[mask] the differences in social identities within each group” (Voss 2005:462), but now focuses on identity differences such as gender, race, ethnicity, nationality, religion, age, and social status within each group. Settlers at the San Francisco Presidio, for instance, came from Sonora but were of Spanish, African, and Mexican descent. While occupying the San Francisco Presidio, some intermarried with local indigenous populations (Voss

2005:462). Case studies such as those at the San Francisco and other Alta California presidios indicate that the boundary between colonized and colonizer was not cut and dry.

“The challenge facing those... who study identities in culture contact settings is to maintain a research focus on colonization and its cultural outcomes while also embracing the complexities of social identification in colonial contexts” (Voss 2005:462).

The Shift Away from a Colonized/Colonizer Dichotomy Towards

Social Diversity 24

Within the last twenty-five years, the archaeology of Alta California has shifted its focus from a colonizer/colonized dichotomy to one of social diversity and investigates the ways in which practices cause division between the colonizer and the colonized. Alta

California archaeologists’ utilization of practice theory has led to a rich examination of changing racial, ethnic, and gender identities through the archaeology of material culture, foodways, architecture, textiles, and casta paintings. Cultural contact studies research

“[focuses] on the dynamics and outcomes of interactions among indigenous and nonindigenous populations during the colonization of North America by various

European powers” (Voss 2005:461). The field intersects with acculturation and creolization research, transculturation and ethnogenesis, and postcolonial approaches.

Archaeologists have also studied how material practices contribute to changes in identities, which in turn influence relationships between colonized and colonizer. For instance, material practices played an active role in settlers’ transformation from casta members to Californios at the San Francisco Presidio between 1776 and 1810 (Voss

2005: 465). Archaeological data suggests military settlers used a double material strategy to form colonial identity that “minimized differences among colonists and simultaneously heightened distinctions between colonists and local indigenous peoples” (Voss

2005:461). The settlers shifted from individual strategies to community-based organization (Voss 2005:470), resulting in population diversity that is reflected in the presidio’s architecture. Routine practices such as food preparation and consumption, ceramic production, and dress downplayed differences in ethnicities throughout Alta

California, and contributed to the changing socio-political landscape. 25

The Archaeology of Textiles in Spanish Colonialism

Within the last two decades, the archaeology and anthropology of clothing and adornment has gained attention. Researchers are beginning to address the ways that people establish meaning with their clothing, accessories, and bodily adornments. Cross- cultural analysis shows that all cultures are “dressed” in a way, and clothing has communicative and symbolic roles (Loren 2015). Clothing plays important roles in our daily and political lives and is an important visual expression of identity. This section of the literature review discusses the anthropological and archaeological significance of clothing, a brief history of the archaeology of clothing in regard to Spanish colonialism, and current challenges within the field of the archaeology of clothing.

People wear clothing for many reasons. They wear it to survive in their environment, for bodily adornment, to express their personhood (Woodward 2005), or to distinguish themselves from others (Loren 2015:1). Clothing and bodily adornments are powerful statements of identity, and fashion happens largely in public. A person’s clothing may be plain or sumptuous, bold or subtle, convey masculinity or femininity.

Clothing is a social skin which faces both inward and outward. It acts as a form of communication that conveys multiple meanings: political position, gender, social class, religious beliefs, hygiene, and health. How a person dresses may be purposeful or compulsory, potentially aligning with sumptuary laws or social expectations (Loren

2015). What counts as acceptable levels of dress or undress, and what clothing says about gender, sexuality, personhood has become entwined with anthropological and 26

archaeological interpretations. Manner of dress “necessarily implicates the material record, providing insight into kinds of artifacts of clothing and adornment that may have been used to create, subvert, and imply certain social identities and sexualities in different historical contexts” (Loren 2015:1)

Clothing is rarely found wholly preserved in archaeological contexts.

Archaeologists find “remnants of the fashioned body” (Loren 2015:2) in the form of adornments such as jewelry, fasteners like buttons and buckles, or clothing and cloth fragments. Tools used to create clothing and adornments are also considered clothing artifacts. Cosmetics and perfume containers, glasses lenses, needles, thimbles, and weaving loom parts must tell archaeologists what textiles cannot. Clothing-related material culture usually fall into “small finds” category and are often fewer in number than other kinds of artifacts (Loren 2015:2). Their infrequency influences archaeological interpretations, and often regarded as curiosities that only receive passing attention.

Early archaeological studies focused on dress at burial sites and was marked by a greater identification of dress in society (Loren 2015). Currently, there is a de-emphasis on grave goods within field of archaeology, in favor of understanding fuller range of society temporally and spatially (Panich 2014: 115). Research that explores clothing and identity explores textile material culture’s role in mortuary practices of Amerindians and castas by comparing and contrasting casta paintings to real-life mortuary practices

(Loren 2007, Panich 2014, Voss 2005, Voss 2008a,b,c). The archaeology of dress and mortuary practices also centers the physical and spiritual body to explore the intersections 27

of body, soul, and clothing. Material culture such as religious medals, amulets, and clothing embodied Spanish colonial castas, and dress conventions, religious practices, and medicine influenced dress.

In the 1950s and 1960s, more nuanced exploration of clothing as aspects of social and personal histories developed (Loren 2015:1). Archaeological interest in dress experienced a resurgence in the 1990s because of Joanne Eicher and Mary Ellen Roach-

Higgins in the 1990s. Recently research on dress and sexuality has been related to performance, and has been influenced by Judith Butler’s concepts of embodiment (1999).

Dress situated in a discourse of bodily action, and bodily meaning is given experience through this discourse (Loren 2015:2):

“Experiences of the body can only be understood in the context that the body exists... The

patterns of posture, movement, dress, adornment, and comportment, as well as the

appropriateness of the display of a clothed or unclothed body, or of particular body parts,

are intertwined with cultural constructions of sexuality in such a way that the body, dress,

and sexuality cannot easily be disentangled. Nor should they be, as identity is created,

materialized, sexualized, and embodied through the body. The residues of those

embodiments and lived experiences are found in texts, objects, and space” (Loren 2015:2).

Researchers’ goal is to understand these entanglements by examining artifacts of dress and adornment. Within the United States, archaeologists have directly addressed textiles during Spanish colonialism in Texas, Louisiana, Florida, and California. Much of this discourse has occurred in conjunction with analysis of casta paintings. More than 28

500 casta paintings were produced in Mexico in the 1700s, mostly by men of mixed racial backgrounds. The paintings have titles like Spanish and Indian make Mestizo or

From Spanish and African, Mulato (Loren 2007:46), and depict clothing that people should have worn based on their casta membership. The paintings display material culture that reinforces the subjects’ casta, such as porcelain wear for higher castas, and undecorated terra cotta for lower castas. Clothing styles changed throughout 1700s, but within casta paintings, appropriate clothing ensembles remained consistent for each casta group. The paintings were viewed within specific political environments that ranked people based off their pedigree and race, and repetition of and within the paintings represents colonial officials’ anxieties about colonial subjects’ changing identities (Loren

2007, Voss 2008a, b, c).

Clothing practices changed more rapidly than clothing ensembles. Archaeological evidence suggests colonial subjects refashioned themselves with clothing and over­ clothing objects such as gun holsters, glass bead necklaces, and copper brooches, and did not always abide by sumptuary laws or adhere to their casta painting descriptions (Loren

2007, Voss 2008a, b, c). Archaeologists must not overly rely on casta paintings to accurately explain the castas’ relationship to clothing because the paintings depicted idealized versions of what one should wear based on hierarchical ranking. Additionally, the paintings are extracted from texts and are therefore removed from their original contexts. Traditionally, the paintings have been scrutinized for specific objects (e.g. a ceramic bowl) rather than the people who are in the painting. Scholars have made the 29

functional-historic assumption that if material correlates are similar, the rest of the paintings’ contexts must be similar, which results in false analogies. To remedy this issue, researchers must take a holistic approach and utilize archaeological, ethnohistoric, and visual sources to draw out the ways colonial structures were embodied by past actors

(Loren 2007:27).

Although archaeologists have addressed textiles directly (Loren 2007, Voss 2005) and indirectly (Lightfoot 1998, 2005; Silliman 2001; Panich 2014) within the Spanish

North America, only one landmark study has occurred that addresses textiles and identity in Alta California. This was conducted by Barbara Voss and archaeological crew members at the San Francisco Presidio between 1992 and 2008. Voss’ work resulted in several academic articles and a book entitled “The Archaeology of Ethnogenesis: Race and Sexuality in Colonial San Francisco” (2008). Information about clothing and bodily adornment at the San Francisco reveals the ways in which Spanish colonial settlers used textiles to re-imagine their identities, shed their casta identities and form the nascent

Californio ethnic group. Settler-soldiers and their family members dressed in typical

Spanish Bourbon fashions, consisting of tight clothing that concealed rather than revealed the body. Although their clothing was made from utilitarian fabrics and lacked fasteners associated with higher castas, the settlers’ dress was distinct from local indigenous peoples’ clothing, which was loose and concealed the body. Notably, soldiers at the

Presidio were subject to a different hierarchal ranking system than civilian castas.

Military hierarchy was based on internal rank instead of skin color, and the soldiers’ 30

uniforms reflected this. Whereas soldiers received clothing that was completely assembled, women and children had to assemble most of their clothing items from lengths of fabric.

In the Spanish empire clothing had the power to transform poor people from lower castas into members of higher castas, fix social identity through government regulations and sumptuary laws, and create tension with those laws and regulations (Voss

2008b:406). Spanish Presidio settlers’ clothing participated in the “microphysics of colonial power” (Voss 2008b: 406) in imperial domains. Identity is multi-scalar, and constantly under negotiation, and castas were able to shed their identity through marriage, migration, changes in appearance, or even by declaration (Voss 2008b:407).

But clothing always played a central role in the visualization of ones’ social ranking.

Presidio residents had extensive knowledge of clothing production and exchange because supplies were limited. Women reinvented themselves by refusing to adopt Bourbon fashion and wear tight clothing, and men placed more importance on clothing signifying military rank than castas clothing in importance. Neither group chose to dress in the manner of local indigenous tribes, which indicates settlers wished to separate themselves from the locals and maintain some kind of connection with the Spanish empire (Voss

2008a).

Currently textiles are revitalized in archaeology through a growth of literature that focuses on the body and the ways status, gender, sexuality, identity, and desire are displayed (Miller and Kiichler 2005). In order to gain a robust understanding of the ways 31

in which Spanish colonial subjects addressed clothing and bodily adornment, some archaeologists are turning to historical documents or non-clothing categories of material culture to supplement textile-related archaeological evidence. With other types of material culture, archaeologists can examine the presence and absence of perishable materials such as leather and fabric, and objects not captured in archaeological record such as hairstyles, tattoos, impermanent body markings, posture, language all aspects of performance identity (Loren 2015). The challenge for archaeologists now “is to consider the small finds of clothing and adornment in light of issues of preservation, performance, and social identities” (Loren 2015:2).

Chapter III Background

The Colonialization of the Americas

Spanish global expansion spanned a roughly four-hundred year period, from 1492 when Christopher Columbus was sent to Hispaniola by the Spanish catholic Hapsburg monarchs Isabelle and Ferdinand, to the Spanish-American War of 1898 (Van Buren

2010). While conquistadores searched for resources such as silver, gold, and food items on behalf of the Spanish crown, Spanish imperialism’s primary motivation was to conquer indigenous people through religious subversion and conversion to Catholicism.

In this way, the Spanish empire turned people of South American, North American,

Caribbean, African, and Spanish descent into colonial subjects. 32

During the 16th century, early Spanish explorers, or conquistadors, made their way through the Caribbean islands and into Mexico, down the west coast of South

America, and throughout what is now the southern and western United States. At the same time, they moved through parts of Western Africa and Southeast Asia. The initial pattern of colonization called for conquistadores to explore an unknown area, claim sovereignty for the crown, assimilate local groups of people through nonviolent means such as religious conversion and the introduction of new technologies, and exploit their labor via the encomienda, or rights to indigenous peoples’ labor, given by governors of

New Spain to conquistadores (Lockhart and Schwartz 1983). However, violence became a viable tactic when Heman Cortes created warfare to overthrow the Aztecs in present- day Mexico in 1519. No matter what strategy was utilized, Spain’s goal was to establish permanent settlements and institutions throughout the empire that would replicate life in

Castilian Spain.

In 1540 Francisco Vazquez de Coronado set out from Nueva Galicia, Mexico, to find the fabled Cibola, or Seven Cities of Gold. He did not find the cities, but he did find

Pueblo, Zuni, and other tribes of people in present-day Arizona, New Mexico, and the

Colorado River. By ordering the execution of the tribespeople, Coronado helped establish the territory of New Mexico. During the 1590s, Don Juan de Onate was tasked with colonizing the region to further expand the reach of New Spain. As a result of the

Valladolid debate, which discussed the moral obligation to and rights and treatment of indigenous colonial subjects (Dumont 1997), the Spanish crown reverted to religious 33

influence, which required less killing of indigenous peoples and more conversions to

Catholicism as a means of conquest. This is evidenced through the conversions of neophytes, or newly-converted indigenous peoples, in Alta California in the 1700s

(Lightfoot 2005). The conquest of Mexico and Central and South America made Spain rich, and it soon began to seek out new territories to protect the center of its empire. The

American southwest was colonized throughout the 1500s and 1600s to create a buffer zone that protected Mexico from potential invasion from other European nations, and to suppress potential internal uprisings. Similarly, Alta California was colonized in the

1700s to protect New Spain’s interior.

The Founding and Establishment of Alta California

Alta California was established as a polity of New Spain by Gaspar de Portola in

1769 (Blind et al. 2004). The territory initially covered present-day California, Nevada, and Utah, and included parts of Arizona, Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico. Much of the land east of the California mountain ranges or north of Central California was never colonized by Spain and remained in the hands of the local indigenous people.

Initial expeditions by sea began in the 16th century, but between then and the early 17th century, none resulted in a permanent settlement (Blind et al. 2004). By the end of the

18th century Spanish and casta populations continued to grow in Alta California, and as a result Governor Diego de Borica defined the Baja and Alta California borders in 1804

(Field 1914). 34

Fear of Russian encroachment into Spanish territory sparked a renewed interest in establishing settlements on Spanish land, and Visitador general (Inspector General) Jose de Galvez planned to restructure Alta California and push settlements further north. Jesuit missionaries, who had previously made unsuccessful attempts to convert local tribes to

Catholicism, were pushed out and replaced by Franciscan missionaries in the hopes that they could help fortify the Spanish empire on North America’s west coast. However,

Spain lacked the funding and the population necessary to ever see their vision come to fruition, and it eventually lost the territory to the Republic of Mexico in 1821 (Blind et al.

2004).California’s colonialization did not happen through a single battle or signed treaty.

Instead, it happened through a series of events between indigenous people and settlers, missionaries, soldiers, priests, and military officials. Because funding was initially too low to fully staff any of the presidios in Alta California, Galvez utilized the Franciscan missionaries to convert and manage the Indians.

The San Francisco Presidio’s history intersects with Alta California’s entry into the world market, European global expansion, and the Age of Enlightenment. As British and Russian fur hunting spread to Siberia, the Arctic Circle, and Alaska in the early

1700s, the Spanish crown grew concerned that foreign invaders would attempt to colonize New Spain (Blind et. al 2004:136). Due to growing fears Russia would move southeast into Spanish-owned territory west of the Mississippi (Blind et. al 2004:136),

Spain decided to occupy more of its territory with military forces and sent 30 soldiers and their families to guard New Spain’s northwestern-most point from potential foreign 35

invasion. The resulting settlement was the Presidio de San Francisco, which lies in modern-day California’s San Francisco peninsula. At the time the closest Russian fur traders were stationed roughly 1600 kilometers to the north (Blind et al. 2004), and concerns of invasion were largely unfounded. However, the Russians established Colony

Ross roughly 100 kilometers to the north of the San Francisco Presidio in 1812 (Blind et al. 2004). Settlers from both colonies would meet to trade food and goods and held festivities together. Despite imperialist concerns, the two groups never experienced conflict.

Alta California’s Presidios and Mission System

Colonial institutions were vital to Spain’s colonization of California. Presidios and missions exerted military and religious power to subjugate native populations, while laws, regulations, and ordinances regulated many of the settlers’ daily practices. All presidios had to abide by the 1772 Reglamento (regulations), which outlined “the architecture of the fortifications, the composition of the presidio company, the economic system through which goods were distributed and accounted for, and the uniforms, equipment, and livestock that each soldier was required to maintain for his own use”

(Voss 2008a:57). The presidios supported the missions, which, in turn, relied on recruiting local indigenous people to survive. Native Californians often fell victim to

European diseases, so the missions were not self-sustaining and constantly had to recruit local indigenous people to join them. 36

Presidios, or fortified garrisons, served as administrative centers for nearby civilian settlements, missions, borders, and land and sea transportation routes throughout the Spanish empire. Although each presidio had different characteristics that were shaped by the landscape, material culture, and the people who occupied them, all four presidios in Alta California contributed to Spain’s long-standing occupation of California (Herezog and Lothrop 2000:44). Presidios worked in conjunction with missions, pueblos, and ranchos reales, or royal ranches, to establish and reinforce Spanish presence in the region that covers Alta California. The first mission and presidio were established in Alta

California in San Diego in 1769, by Gaspar de Portola. The Monterey mission and presidio were established the following year, while the San Francisco presidio was built in 1776 and the Santa Barbara presidio was built in 1786. A fifth presidio was built in

Sonoma in 1810, but this was done after Mexico had achieved independence from Spain.

The presidios housed castas, military members, convicts, Indians, slaves, and gente de razon, or people of reason (literally people of pure Spanish blood) (Voss 2008a).

The presidios were part of a tripartite system established in the 1500s and 1600s in New Spain. Presidios were instituted first, followed by missions, and then civilian pueblos. Out of necessity, colonial military members were usually involved in all three institutions. Presidio systems were first created in the early 1500s century in North

Africa, and subsequently utilized in the 1520s in New Spain after the conquest of the

Aztec empire (Voss 2008a:57). Presidios became dominant in the Interior Provinces of

New Spain by the 1600s, and their designs were influenced more by the practical need to 37

defend frontier territories than by theories of European warfare (Voss 2008a:57). The presidios of Alta California were designed to ward off attacks from indigenous people on land, and foreign threats by sea, and were strategically placed along the California coast.

Naval shipments to presidios were infrequent, arriving about once a year from

San Bias in Nayarit, on Mexico’s west coast. Inconsistent supply drop-offs caused settlers throughout Alta California to reduce rations when the ships were late. When supplies were low at the presidios, settlers would reduce rations and rely on reserves from local

Indians and 21 missions established throughout Alta California (Hackel 1997:114, Voss

2008b). As Indians learned crafts and trade in the 1790s, settlers at the Presidios could purchase items such as shoes, boots, soap, saddles, beds, blankets, candles, and even coffins from the missions (Arkush 2011). In 1810, civil conflict undermined Spain’s ability to deliver supplies to settlers, and they became almost completely dependent on local missions. Missions received credits for supplying the presidios with goods and could redeem them in Mexico City through a purchasing agent. In turn, the credits allowed missions to stock up on goods it was unable to manufacture, including wool, spices, rice, paper products, prayer books, trade beads, and fine cloth (Arkush 2011).

Over time the missions’ authority was questioned by local indigenous people and colonial subjects, and territorial disputes occurred.

Many local indigenous people who had converted to Catholicism were forced to stay at the missions, causing them to grow disenchanted with the mission system and attempt to run away. Of those who made attempts, between 5% and 10% were successful 38

(Arkush 2011:65), but most were captured and forced to perform hard labor as a punishment. The Presidio de San Francisco was built in part by Indians who tried to escape, along with the soldier-settlers who were tasked with multiple jobs as part of colonizing the California frontier. By law, the missions were expected to be passed down to the neophytes in ten years’ time, after they integrated into Spanish society. However, the Franciscans delayed the process and ran the missions until they were secularized beginning in 1833 (Yenne 2004).

The Founding of el Presidio de San Francisco

As Spain struggled to secure outposts in Alta California, then-govemor of New

Mexico Juan Bautista de Anza began to look for overland passages between New Spain and the newly claimed West Coast territory in 1774. Because sea travel from Mexico to

Alta California was dangerous and ships were limited, settlers had to travel in caravans from Culiacan, Sinaloa; Fuerte, Sonora, and finally from Tubac, Arizona to San

Francisco. Anza recruited soldiers and their family members from these sites, consisting of 42 men, 39 women, and 119 children who had a mixture of Spanish, African, and

Native American heritage (Simpson-Smith and Edwards 2000), knowing that crop failures and ongoing battles with local indigenous communities had made them desperate to find better living conditions (Blind et al. 2004). Anza made sure to recruit married couples with proven fertility so that the colony in San Francisco would succeed. As an incentive, he offered the settlers clothing, livestock, supplies, free rations for the first five years of their occupation, and advanced pay for two years of service (Voss 2008a, b). The 39

Spanish colonial government saw these settlers as “expendable, desperate, and susceptible to promises of future opportunity” (Voss 2008a:45).

1776 San Francisco Presidio Population by Age and Sex

■ Male ■ Female ■ Child

Figure. 1. Estimated San Francisco Presidio population, 1776. Children were not always distinguished by sex, so they have been combined into one category. Adapted from Forbes 1983; Langellierand Rosen 1996; Mason 1998; Voss 2008.

A group of 200 people consisting of soldiers and their families, cowboys, servants, blacksmiths, and priests left Tubac early in 1776, and arrived in San Francisco on June 29, 1776. Among the travelers were chaplain Pedro Font and Viceroy of New

Spain Jose Joaquin Moraga. Father Francisco Palou joined the travelers at Mission

Moneterey, and christened the site of the San Francisco Presidio when they arrived. The military and religious figures’ written accounts provide details of the journey to the San

Francisco Presidio and shed light on the daily activities of its settlers and their interactions with local indigenous peoples. 40

Figure. 2. Casta Rankings by Percentage, 1776. Adapted from Forbes 1983; Langellier and Rosen 1996; Mason 1998; Voss 2008.

Once they left Tubac, the settlers moved almost constantly and only stopped to rest when one of the eight pregnant women who made the trip was about to give birth, or when they needed to replenish supplies in Monterey (Voss 2008a, b). Although the indigenous people they encountered along the trail never attacked them and let them pass through on their way, the journey was not without incident (Voss 2008a:52). Two women died during childbirth, and the settlers had to cross a treacherously cold river and were led to safety by a local Quechan tribe. The settlers encountered a winter storm that lasted for four days, during which some of their livestock died, and they also felt the rumblings of one of California’s first recorded earthquakes. At Mission San Gabriel, between present-day San Diego and Los Angeles, four soldiers defected, stole some of the livestock that was meant to maintain the colony in San Francisco, and were subsequently found. As a punishment, they had to perform hard labor alongside neophytes who had 41

also defected and were ordered to help build the Presidio de San Francisco’s first quadrangle (Field 1914).

In total, Anza’s transportation of the colonial settlers from Tubac to San Francisco more than doubled Alta California’s Spanish colonial population. Some of the travelers stayed behind and settled at mission stops along the way to San Francisco. When the 193 settlers arrived at the Presidio de San Francisco on the northern tip of the San Francisco peninsula overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the San Francisco Bay, they were charged with defending the bay against potential foreign invaders. Out of necessity, soldiers also acted as butchers, agriculturalists, and carpenters in addition to their military duties. The soldiers also provided the muscle to Christianize the local indigenous people, who numbered between 100 and 200 in the northern part of the San Francisco peninsula

(Blind et al. 2004).

When the settlers arrived in San Francisco, the Bay Area was populated by

Ohlone (Costanoan), Patwin, Wappo, Bay Miwok, Eastern Miwok, Pomo, and Yokut districts (Voss 2008a:48). The indigenous population spanned 55 tribes, spoke five languages, and numbered between 10,000 and 20,000 people (Blind et al. 2004). At the time the colonists arrived in the San Francisco Bay Area, the region was one of the most densely populated areas in North America. The relatively sedentary residential patterns, hunter-gatherer/fishing economies, and intensive land management of the Mediterranean climate led to local indigenous peoples’ success, but later worked against them. Because the tribes were autonomous compared to Spanish colonial organization, they did not 42

make a unified response when the settlers arrived (Voss 2008a: 52). Infighting, lack of organization, religious conversion, and exchange of goods for others (e.g. stone axes for metal axes) facilitated the Spain’s ability to conquer the natives. Some indigenous peoples were friendly towards the settlers and provided resources such as acorns and meat, while others were hostile. However friendly initial relationships between the settlers and the local tribes were, the Spanish colonial subjects were confused and threatened by indigenous peoples and their customs. The settlers were fascinated and offended by indigenous sexual practices, which included nonmonogamous sex outside of marriage, premarital sex, transgender practices, same-sex sexuality, and polygamy (Voss

2008a:51). They also disapproved of the natives’ ways of dress, which featured loose, flowing clothing that revealed the body (Voss 2008a, Voss 2008b).

During Spanish occupation of Alta California, the San Francisco Presidio had seven missions within it administrative borders. Local natives interacted with the presidios through the missions, willingly and unwillingly. Within a few years of the arrival of the Anza expedition, individuals came to the missions out of desperation for food, to hire themselves as laborers, to raid the settlements, or to relocate to uncolonized regions to the east or north (Voss 2008a:51). While some were captured after resisting

Spanish occupation, others agreed to work in exchange for goods, agreed to be converted to Catholicism, and even sent family members to work in the missions. It soon became apparent that the only way the indigenous people would be able to return to their homes was to submit to colonial religious and military powers (Voss 2008a:53). 43

At first, relations between the settlers at the Presidio and local tribes were peaceful. But within six months of the colonists’ arrival, incidents of direct violence occurred (Voss 2008a:52-53). Some Yeluma men and boys of the Ohlone district periodically returned to a lagoon to hunt ducks and would often bring the ducks to the

Presidio. Father Palou began to perceive these visits as threats, and had a Yeluma neophyte, or newly christened Indian, flogged. Two men tried to rescue him and shot arrows at the mission, but warning shots were fired in retaliation and they fled. Sergeant

Juan Grijavla and troops pursued the two men, and Yeluma men began shooting arrows at them. Grijalva ordered his troops to open fire, which killed one man and severely injured another. The Yeluma surrendered, and the two men who shot arrows were captured and whipped, and told they would be killed if they ever tried to attack again

(Voss 2008a:53). Within a year, the network of Yeluma communities was dominated by colonial institutions. Between 1776 and 1793, all native villages had disappeared from the San Francisco peninsula. This event set the tone for colonial influence throughout the

San Francisco Bay region, and by 1810 all but the northernmost villages of the San

Francisco Bay Area had been decimated. Whether the Indians initially came to the missions by choice or by force has been heavily debated, but indigenous populations were eventually forced to go to the missions as the Spanish cut down their food supplies and resources for their own needs. 44

Figure 3. Estimated San Francisco Presidio population, 1790. Children were not always distinguished by sex, so they have been combined into one category. Adapted from Forbes 1983; Langellier and Rosen 1996; Mason 1998; Voss 2008.

By the 1790s the missions had dominated Alta California’s economy, but recruiting converts became increasingly militarized (Voss 2008a:59). The presidios and missions struggled with each other for power during Spanish occupation, and a lack of funding, supplies, and staffing meant the Spanish empire was never able to secure Alta

California as the stronghold it had envisioned. By 1810, towards the end of the Spanish empire, Spanish settlers were only able to secure a small strip of coastal land, and none of the California interior (Voss 2008a). The closing of the Anza Trail was a major factor in

Spain’s inability to turn Alta California into a thriving economic center. Initially, the trail was intended to promote trade between the center of New Spain and Alta California, but the Spanish government failed to follow through on Juan Bautista de Anza’s promise to the Yuma people that he would offer trade and military protection in return for 45

establishing a mission and weigh station on their land.

1790 Casta Ranking by Percentage

14%

■ Espaflol

■ Mestizo

■ Mulato or Indio

Figure 4. Casta Rankings by Percentage, 1790. Adapted from Forbes 1983; Langellier and

Rosen 1996; Mason 1998; Voss 2008.

Travelers’ abuse of the Yuma people led to a revolt in 1781, and as a result the trail was permanently closed. New settlers were a rarity, and most of the people who resided at the San Francisco presidio were direct descendants of the people who traveled the Anza Trail in 1776 (Voss 2008a). By 1830, nine years after the Presidio had fallen under Mexican occupation, the population had dwindled to 131 occupants. While the

Presidio de San Francisco was isolated, it was not quite the rugged frontier that is often imagined.

The Sistema de Castas and Clothing at the San Francisco Presidio 46

The San Francisco Presidio’s Spanish occupants were subject to sumptuary laws determined by the sistema de castas - a race-based social hierarchy used by Spanish government as an attempt to control people of mixed or non-Spanish descent within the

Spanish Empire. Sumptuary laws established what members of each casta could wear, and those who dressed outside of their social station were subject to strict punishments

(Voss 2008b). Cuadros de castas, or casta paintings were created for Spanish elite as taxonomical visual representations of how each casta member should appear (Loren

2007, Voss 2008a,b). However, historical and archaeological evidence (Loren 2007) suggests that colonial settlers did not always adhere to sumptuary laws, and sometimes rejected them outright. At the San Francisco Presidio, settlers had no one to reinforce sumptuary laws due to their remote location, and historical evidence shows that Juan

Bautista de Anza provided the settlers with clothing items that were explicitly forbidden, possibly as a sort of social experiment to position the settlers within the Spanish Empire.

At the San Francisco Presidio, soldiers’ clothing was ranked independently of the sistema de castas, and archaeological evidence indicates that soldiers were low-ranking both militarily and socially (Voss 2008a,b,c). Eventually, usage of the sistema de casta faded into obscurity and Presidio occupants identified themselves as members of the nascent

Californio ethnicity.

The term casta was used by Spanish elites in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries to describe people of mixed Spanish, African, Mexican, and Native American descent throughout North America, South America, and the Philippines (Blind 2004, 47

Voss 2008a). The system was initially designed to place people of African descent at the bottom of the social ladder, but later placed people of North American or South

American descent as the lowest social ranking. Those who were mestizaje, or mixed race, belonged to the Republica de espaholes, while those of solely Amerindian descent were considered part of the Republica de indios, and therefor outside of the sphere of Hispanic society (Loren 2007). Casta members’ social positions were determined by their family background, race, color, and phenotypical traits. Unlike Anglo-American racial hierarchy systems which practiced hypodescent, the sistema de castas practiced hyperdescent, in which casta members and their descendants could move up the social rankings through birth or marriage. Lighter skin usually indicated a person was of Iberian (Spanish peninsular) descent and therefor maintained a higher social ranking, while darker skin was usually correlated with African or indigenous ancestry and indicated poverty and low social ranking. Despite the importance of bodily features when determining social ranking, a person’s mannerisms, moral character, and clothing were vital to this process

(Carrera 2003, Twinam 1999, Voss 2008b).

During the 1700s, clothing played an increasingly important role in fashioning the colonial subject. “The ascendancy of the Bourbon monarchy in Spain in the early 1700s brought visual inspection to the forefront of colonial governmentality, including increased surveillance of bodily practices such as clothing” (Voss 2008b:411). Bourbon fashion disclosed this scrutiny and was practiced within the casta rankings and in

Amerindian subjugation. Typical dress displayed rather than concealed the body, and 48

Casta Parent Combination Offspring Classification

Espanol, India Mestiza

Espanol, Castiza Espanol

Espanol, Mestiza Castizo

Espanol, Negra Mulato

Mulato, Espanol Morisco

Morisco, Espanola Alvina

Alvina, Espanol Toma-atras

Toma-atras, Indio Lobo

Lobo, India Sanbaigo

Sainbaigo, India Cambujo

Cambujo, Mulata Albarazado

Albarazado, Mestiza Barcina

Barcino, Mulata China

Chino, India Genizara

Genizaro, Mulata Gibaro

Gibaro, y Mulata Tente en el Ayre

Table 1. Casta classifications according to Francisco Clapera’s 1775 painting series. Only Espafioles, Mestizos/as, Mulatos/as, and Indios/as were present at the San Francisco Presidio during Spanish occupation (Clapera 1775). looser, billowy clothing was tied with laces and buttoned garments that hugged the figure, no matter whether a person possessed elite status or not. Men’s clothing included 49

cut-away jackets, sleeveless waistcoats, pullover shirts, stockings, and knee-length breeches. Women’s clothing consisted of tight-fitting bodices and floor-length skirts.

Social status was displayed in the details of a person’s clothing: patterning, texture, fabric quality, the presence or absence of garment fasteners and their degree of elaboration, and presence or absence and degree of ornamentation such as ribbons, garlands, embroidery, braided thread, jewelry, and broaches (Fisher 1992:54-61, Voss 2008b:413). In New

Spain and especially in Mexico, colonial subjects wore clothing hybrids that blended

Spanish Bourbon fashion with the huipil typically associated with Mexican Indians (Voss

2008b:413). The huipil was “a long and flowing garment sewn from several lengths of hand-woven cloth, worn loosely draped over the body” (Voss 2008b:413). Spanish

Bourbon style became “hegemonically associated with European-ness, the

Enlightenment, and the metrople” (Voss 2008b:413). Clothing associated with

indigenous fashions such as ponchos, rebozos, and folded cloth headpieces were thought to signal racial inferiority and rural or frontier backwardness. However Spanish elites’ thoughts on dress did not always align with dress practices. For example, successful

castas and Indios would fashion huipiles from European brocades and printed fabrics

(Carrera 2003:24, Fisher 1992: 19, 50, 65-6, Katzew 2004:77).

Sumptuary Laws

Sumptuary laws were initiated in the early 1500s, and “[royal] pragmatics on

matters of dress were issued in 1521, 1571, 1684, 1691, 1716, 1767, 1776, and 1782”

(Carrera, 2003: 118-19; Earle, 2003; Fisher, 1992: 62-71; Katzew, 2004: 68; Voss 50

2008b: 413). Sumptuary laws were intended to keep members of each of the three major castas categories (European, African, or Indian) separate, and as a result both upward and downward mobility were disallowed. Initially, people of African descent were especially subject to these laws. They dressed in the typical Bourbon fashion, but were not allowed to wear luxury items such as lace, silk, silver, gold, precious stones, or pearls (Voss

2008b: 413). Women of African descent were prohibited from wearing mantillas

(headscarves) because the items were associated with elite Spanish women. With few exceptions, casta members were not allowed to wear clothing associated with Indians.

Penalties for violating sumptuary laws included public humiliation, corporal punishment, and confiscation of offending items (Carrera, 2003: 119; Cope, 1994; Fisher, 1992: 40;

Loren, 1999; Love, 1970; Milton and Vinson, 2002, Voss 2008b).

Casta Paintings

Casta paintings were meant to depict the mestizajes that resulted from their near- global expansion. The paintings were usually created in a series of 16-18 panels, with each panel depicted an idealized outcome of different cross-racial couplings of a man, woman, and child. They featured the clothing and material associated with each casta.

The paintings were a physical manifestation of Spanish elites’ fears that the castas were becoming too blended, and “provided a visual representation of the colonial fantasy of a racially stratified society; one in which each person’s dress, occupation, diet, housing,

and consumer practices were congruent with their lineage” (Voss 2008b:414). Clothing

fasteners were important features in determining social class in casta paintings. Elite 51

Spanish clothing featured closely-spaced filigreed jeweled buttons and belts, silver or gold buckles, shoes, and knee fittings. Members of higher castas had fewer, plainer buttons and buckles made out of brass, copper, or tin. Lower castas of African ancestry did not wear buttons or buckles, but instead wore clothing with ties or laces (Voss 2008b:

414).

Military Ranking

Military ranking played an important role in visualizing social ranking, but it existed outside of the sistema de castas. Spanish frontier soldiers were known as soldados de cueras, or leather jacket soldiers, who wore a hybrid of Spanish and indigenous protective gear. Their knee-length, sleeveless jackets, or cueras, were made of seven layers of buckskin in order to protect the soldiers in the frontier hinterlands (Voss

2008b), and the style was a combination of Spanish styles of armor and the Aztec ichipilli. Soldiers were not allowed to wear traditional Spanish cloth uniforms because high-ranking colonial officials feared lighter clothes would feminize the soldiers and make them unfit for a frontier lifestyle (Voss 2008b:416). Their clothing marked them as non-Spanish and stigmatized them as unrefined.

Clothing and identity at el Presidio de San Francisco

Anza insisted military settlers receive compensation in clothing instead of cash

(Chapman 1916, Voss 2008b:411) so they “wouldn’t waste it or lose it in gambling”

(Chapman 1916:293, Voss 2008b:411). The settlers had limited freedom to make 52

clothing decisions, as goods were ordered for the 30 soldiers and their families by Juan

Jose de Echeveste. Women received plain clothing: shirts, skirts, petticoats, shawls made from manta (a course cotton woolen cloth), Puebla (a Silesian lining imported from

Germany), silk serge, and flannel. Children’s clothing had to be sewn together from dry goods and looked similar to clothing worn by adults (Voss 2008b: 411). All settlers received ready-made shoes, hats, hair ribbons, and stockings (Chapman, 1916: 461-6).

That Anza made off-duty military recruits and their families dress in the Spanish

Bourbon style fashioned in plain, utilitarian fabrics clearly stated the settlers’ social positions as members of the lower castas. By giving the settlers and their families similar styles of dress, he eliminated some of the differences between people of different castas, and set the tone for the creation of the Californio ethnicity. The Presidio settlers were

“quite literally fashioned into colonial subjects” (Voss 2008b). In one sense, clothing provided to the settlers served the practical purpose of outfitting military company of impoverished recruits. On the other hand, “it is also apparent that Anza was undertaking a social engineering project, one aimed at transforming the recruits’ social identities and stabilizing their place in the colonial order” (Voss 2008b:411). Notably, Anza issued a silk shirt to every adult woman, even those of African descent who made up at least 20 percent of the founding colony members. This “may have communicated the message that sumptuary restrictions would not be enforced in the new settlement” (Voss 2008b:

416).

Chapter IV Methods 53

In order to problematize the visualization of Spanish elites’ sartorial expectations of casta members through taxonomical paintings, explore whether textile-related archaeological evidence aligns with these expectations, and consider whether the sistema de castas is an appropriate model to analyze textile-related archaeological evidence at the

San Francisco Presidio, several questions must be addressed: how were sumptuary laws and clothing restrictions expressed through visual representation? Did Francisco

Clapera’s depictions of colonial subjects align with textile-related archaeological evidence at the San Francisco Presidio? How did members of each casta at the San

Francisco Presidio interpret sumptuary laws, and how did they visually express their personhood through clothing (Woodard 2005)? Who does textile-related archaeological evidence represent, and how do those representations compare to subjects in Clapera’s paintings? What can be inferred from the paintings and archaeological evidence about casta members’ daily practices, especially in regard to military and religious presence?

What do the paintings and archaeological evidence tell us about how clothing, race, and gender situated colonial subjects within the Spanish Empire?

To address these questions, I investigate two bodies of evidence: visual representations/paintings and textile-related archaeological artifacts. Visual representations of proper dress consist of casta paintings, and depict how men, women, and children were expected to dress according to the skin tone and place within the

Spanish Bourbon racial hierarchy (Voss 2008a). “As such, casta images can be placed not only within the emerging nationalism of their local rhetorical culture, but also within 54

broader Euro-American eighteenth- century rhetorical culture that, far from being wholly dominated by Enlightened science, was characterized by complex identifications constantly negotiating Enlightenment coloniality's romance with abstract rationality”

(Olson 2009:309). Archaeological artifacts contribute material evidence of spatiality, and domestic and ritualistic practices to our understanding of how colonized people negotiated institutionalized requirements of dress. I examine elements of each body of evidence and compare the paintings and artifacts to each other while applying a practice theory-based theoretical framework outlined in the literature review.

The analysis is broken down into the following general steps: discuss each casta paintings as individual bodies of evidence and compare them to each other in the discussion by considering casta ranking, gender, and age group (children or adults), and consider individual archaeological artifact categories from the San Francisco Presidio

(buttons, beads, buckles, and religious ornaments) and compare them to each other. The final step, completed in the discussion section of this thesis, compares each body of evidence to each other while applying a practice-based theoretical framework.

Casta Paintings

Casta paintings emerged during the Age of Enlightenment as a way to taxonomically classify different racial mixtures that resulted from Spanish global

colonialization in the 1700s (Voss 2008a, b). They were largely produced in Mexico - the heart of the Spanish Empire - and consisted of 16 to 18 panels that depicted expected 55

dress styles and material culture for each casta ranking. Usually, each panel portrayed a man, woman, and child, and had names such as “De espanol e india, mestizo (from

Spanish and Indian, comes Mestizo)” (Loren 2001). The paintings were created for the

Spanish elite to ease their insecurities about ruling over various people around the world and were meant to reinforce the idea of Spanish supremacy over other races or race mixtures. Under Spanish Bourbon sumptuary laws, casta members were expected to dress in specific ways, and were heavily punished for dressing outside of their class. By examining Francisco Clapera’s casta paintings, I discover what material culture, clothing, and mannerisms different castas were expected to possess.

The first step of my methodology is to survey sixteen paintings created by

Francisco Clapera in 1775. These paintings are part of the Denver Art Museum’s permanent collection and are the only known full set of cuadros de castas (casta paintings) in the United States. They were created a year before the settlers made their way to the San Francisco Presidio, and two years after the 1773 Reglamentos (Rules and regulations for Presidio settlers in New Spain). The names of each painting are as follows:

De Espanol, e India, nace Mestiza

De Espanol, y Castiza, Espanol

De Espanol, y Mestiza, Castizo

De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato

De Mulato, y Espanol, Morisco

De Morisco, y Espanol a, Alvina 56

De Alvina, y Espanol, Torna-atras

De Torna-atras, e Indio, Lobo

De Lobo, e India, Sainbaigo

Sainbaigo, e India, Cambujo

De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado

De Albarazado, y Mestiza, Barcina

De Barcino, y Mulata, China

De Chino, e India, Genizara

De Genizaro, y Mulata, Gibaro

De Gibaro, y Mulata, Tente en el Ayre

Because only four castas were present at the San Francisco Presidio during Spanish occupation (Epsanol, Mestizo/a, Castizo/a and Mulato/a), I closely examine the subjects who appear in this series and fall under one of these rankings and then discuss each painting as a whole.

I categorize each painting into three general groupings: clothing and bodily adornment, material culture, and general mood. Within the first category (clothing and bodily adornment), I create a dataset and record the following features for each casta member whose ranking appears at the San Francisco Presidio (22 subjects in total): overall dress style, clothing colors, clothing silhouette, clothing textures (if recognizable), headwear and hair embellishments, presence or absence of shoes, shoe color and description, presence or absence of metal hardware, hardware color and description, presence or absence of embellishments, embellishment colors and description, presence or absence of closures, closure color and description, presence or absence of jewelry, 57

jewelry color and description, presence or absence of bodily adornments, presence or absence of tattoos or bodily markings, presence or absence of piercings, clothing condition (new or wom-in), clothing condition (clean or dirty), presence or absence of repairs, presence or absence of religious ornaments, hair color, hair texture, hairstyle, hair condition, skin tone, skin cleanliness, overall hygiene, pose (static or dynamic), pose details, and facial expression. Within the second category (material culture), I record items placed in the foreground and background of each painting. Items fall into cookware, food, plants, decorations, furniture, shelter, yam-making tools, musical instruments, childcare tools, tools of labor, and tools of punishment. Within the third category (overall mood), I record the environment that the painting is set in (e.g. indoors and outdoors), main colors used, and the dynamics between the three subjects in each painting.

Some of the categories listed above are subjective, and/or require further explanation of their usage. I categorize dress style as either Spanish Bourbon,

Amerindian, or a hybrid of both. Clothing silhouette is either. I record clothing fit as close-fitting, tight on top and loose on the bottom, semi-fitted, or loose to help determine whether clothing styles were Spanish Bourbon, Amerindian, or a hybrid of the two. I categorize clothing condition as new or worn-in, based on their appearance in the paintings. If there are no signs of dirt, tears, or wear, I categorize clothing as new.

Otherwise, I categorize the clothing item as used. In several of the paintings, it is unclear whether clothing is new or used due to the painting’ overall tone and shading. I note this 58

in the analysis. Similarly, I note whether clothing is clean or dirty. Clothing is only marked “dirty” if obvious stains or dirt are apparent on textiles.

Hair colors varied throughout and within the paintings, but fell onto a general spectrum of lightest to darkest. To simplify hair colors, I categorize them as white

(powdered wig), Light grey/warm brown, blond/light brown, light brown, medium brown, warm brown/copper, and dark brown. Hair texture was sometimes difficult to discern due to Clapera’s painting style, which uses soft brushstrokes. I use the following general categories: Fine, straight, curly/wavy (includes loose curls), curly, course/curly

(includes tight curls, wiry hair, and kinky hair), and n/a (either not visible or unable to distinguish hair type). Hair condition notes whether hair shown is clean or dirty, kempt or unkempt. Similar to hair color, skin color is depicted in a vast array of colors, but is simplified into the following general categories: very light, light, light-medium, medium, medium-dark, and dark. I take each subject’s pose into consideration because it contributes to the overall mood of the painting, and may provide clues about expectations of each social ranking. Coding for relevant categories is listed below. When a category is too complexed or nuanced to assign a coded number, I made a note.

Clothing: 1 = Spanish Bourbon 2 = Hybrid 3 = Amerindian

* These are general categories based off of fit, silhouettes, embellishments, accessories, presence and absence of metal hardware, and clothing details. 59

Silhouette: 1 = Close-fitted throughout 2 = Fitted through torso and waist, generally loose elsewhere 3 = Fitted at waist, generally loose elsewhere 4 = Fitted, but covered with 5 = Fitted at waist and/or torso, but covered by loose garment 6 = Loose

*2 indicates a corset is present and visible, while 3 indicates that a corset is absent

Clothing/shoe condition 1 = No signs of wear and clean 2 = No signs of wear and dirty 3 = Signs of wear and clean 4 = Signs of wear and dirty

Presence or absence of shoes 1 = Present 2 = Absent 3 = Shoes not visible

Type of shoes 1 = Buckles present 2 = Buckles absent

Shoe condition 1 = No signs of wear and clean 2 = No signs of wear and dirty 3 = Signs of wear and clean 4 = Signs of wear and dirty

Presence or absence of headwear 1 = Present 2 = Absent

* Headwear is mentioned, but varies too much (almost from individual to individual) to create a numbering system

Presence or Absence of Metal Hardware 1 = Present 2 = Absent Hardware type 1 = buckles 60

2 = buttons 3 = stirrups

Presence or absence of clothing embellishments 1 = Present 2 = Absent

* Embellishments are decorations on clothing. They include embroidery, trim, pockets, lace, ruffles or other worked fabric, cloth of multiple colors or designs, clothing items made out of more than one material, closures, tassels, and headwear, and accessories. Because they are so varied, embellishments are discussed in the painting descriptions but not given a coded number.

Presence or absence of closures 1 = Present 2 = Absent

* Closures primarily include buttons and button holes, but may also include laces and ties, and knee buckles

Presence or absence of jewelry

1 = Present 2 = Absent

* Jewelry was only present on women

Religious ornamentation 1 = Present 2 = Absent

Religious ornamentation was not present on any subject.

Non-piercing bodily adornments or tattos 1 = Present 2 = Absent

*No non-piercing bodily adornments were visible on any subject.

Presence or absence of piercings 1 = Present 2 = Absent 61

* Piercings were only present on women, and only on their ears

Hair color 1 = White, possible powdered wig 2 = Blond 3 = Light brown/medium brown 4 = Warm brown, copper 5 = Dark brown Hair texture 1 = straight 2 = Wavy 3 = Curly/Wavy 4 = Curly 5 = Curly/coarse 6 = Fine 0 = Indistinguishable

*Taken from standardized hair curl patterns, where 1A = straight, 2B/3A = wavy, 3B = curly/wavy, 3C = curly, and 4B/C = curly/coarse (cite). Fine hair thickness was found on one child, but due to the painting technique used the texture of their hair was indistinguishable. Some hair texture was indistinguishable due to hair coverings or the artist's painting style.

Hair condition appearance 1 = clean 2 = clean but unkempt

*No subjects analyzed have hair that appears dirty, but other subjects of lower castas do have dirty hair. They are discussed during the individual painting analysis.

Skin tone 1 = Light 2 = Medium-light 3 = Medium 4 = Medium-dark 5 = Dark

Skin cleanliness 1 = Appears clean 2 = Appears dirty

*Skin was clean in all subjects analyzed, but were sometimes pictured with other subjects who appeared dirty. 62

Overall cleanliness 1 = Clean 2 Dirty

*Skin was clean in all subjects analyzed, but were sometimes pictured with other subjects who appeared dirty.

Pose type 1 = Static 2 = Dynamic

*Body language changes from individual to individual, and is therefore discussed in the individual painting analysis section

*Facial expressions vary from individual to individual, and is therefore discussed in the individual painting analysis section

After the above elements are recorded, I examine each painting individually and apply the theoretical framework outlined above to address whether the depicted castas dress aligned with Spanish Bourbon sumptuary laws and clothing/ casta ranking expectations held by the Spanish Bourbon elite. I then discuss how clothing is depicted within each casta, by gender and age, incorporating data that compares the overall dress style to each of the four casta rankings present at the San Francisco Presidio. I compare the presence and absence of headwear by casta and gender; the presence and absence of shoes by casta, gender, and age; the presence and absence of hardware by casta, gender, and age; the presence and absence of embellishments by casta, gender and age; the presence and absence of closures by casta and gender, the presence and absence of jewelry by casta and gender, clothing condition by casta, gender, and age; hair color, 63

style and condition by casta, gender, and age, and skin tone by casta, gender, and age.

Some of the categories above do not apply to children (e.g. there were no children were depicted wearing earrings), and have therefor been excluded as necessary. All of the subjects above had clean hair and skin, and good overall hygiene, and therefor are not be recorded in a table for comparison.

Archaeological evidence

The archaeological analysis begins with a detailed discussion of textile-related artifacts at the San Francisco Presidio. I detail each of the four artifact categories

(buttons, buckles, beads, and religious ornaments) by size, color, quantity, and material makeup. I then compare each category to the castas depicted in Clapera's paintings that were also present at the Presidio. I compare archaeological evidence by casta ranking, gender, and age group. I note the artifacts' presence or absence for each category, and their appearance in the paintings and at the San Francisco Presidio.

Chapter V Analysis

Casta Painting Individual Analysis 64

Figure 5. De Espafiol, e India, nace Mestiza. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

De Espanol, e India, nace Mestiza (From a Spanish Man and an Indian Woman, a

Half-Blood is Bom) is the first in a series of sixteen paintings that depict various racial mixtures that may have been found throughout the Spanish Empire in the 1700s. The 65

painting shows an Espanol standing confidently, with one hand on his Indian partner’s shoulder and the other on his Mestiza daughter’s head. They are outside near a body of water surrounded by baskets of food items, and stand under a woven or braided structure that provides shade. All three subjects belong to one of the castas present at the San

Francisco Presidio during Spanish occupation.

The Espanol is dressed in an orange-red jacket and matching pantalones, a white jabot and stockings, and a beige vest. He also has on black leather shoes with either brass or gold buckles, a black tricomer hat, and a black sash or holster that is possibly made of leather. His shirt cuffs are made of lace, as is his jabot. As with most of the images in this series, the texture and materials of the clothing items is not readily discernible. Closures are notably absent from his garments, despite a prominent center seam that runs down the front of the pantalones. Like all of the men depicted in Clapera’s series, he is wearing no jewelry and has no bodily modifications. His hair appears white or very light brown or grey, and it is possible that he is wearing a powdered wig. There are no repairs or signs of wear on his clothing, and his overall hygiene is clean and well-kept. It is possible to see a translucent leg and other translucent body parts on this figure, as through Clapera had initially painted him in a different pose. This sometimes overlaps with the clothing, making it difficult at times to tell what color an object is supposed to be.

The Mulata is wearing a white rebozo and a loose blue skirt. She also has a reddish-brown headpiece that is traditionally associated with indigenous styles (Voss

2008a, b), but it is not possible to tell if the fabric of the headpiece contains European 66

elements such as lace or design work (Voss 2008a, b). She is also wearing shoes that are possibly black, but it is difficult to tell because they are concealed in the shadow of her skirt. She also wears a set of matching earrings and a two-stranded choker that feature large orange-red beads. There is no hardware present, and her warm brown hair is pulled back and concealed by the headpiece. She appears to have good hygiene, and her clothes are clean and without rips, tears, or repairs.

The Mestiza daughter appears to be a toddler. She is wearing a white shirt or possibly jacket that features sleeves that puff out above the elbow, similar to India and

Mulata featured throughout the series. She is also wearing a light blue skirt that is fitted at the wait and voluminous throughout. She is wearing red stockings, and black or dark brown slip-on shoes. She has a beige kerchief or peplum that feature dark blue tassels around her waist. She has no discernible hardware, and her warm brown/copper hair is cropped short. Although her outfit, skin tone, and hair color are similar to her mother’s, the red stockings and black/brown shoes mimic her father’s clothing colors.

The overall mood of the painting is one of happiness and contentment. Although the daughter is attempting to gain her father’s full attention, the two parents gaze at each other happily. The India is bent over, which shows the full volume of her garments and conceals the shape of her body. Many foods are present, most of which are plant-based.

These foods may be an indication of the family’s occupation. Pineapples, pears, bananas or plantains, avocados, figs, fish, and other foods sit in baskets and fill the lower-right- hand comer. A structure made out of a wooden tripod and woven or braided plant fibers 67

provides shade. A body of water sits in the background, and is surrounded by trees and a mountain range. In the foreground, there are hints of green within the grey ground that may depict growing grass. The cool blue, blue-green, and neutral tones contribute to the scene’s tranquility. 68

Figure 6. De Espaftol, y Castiza, Espafiol. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

The second painting in Clapera’s series De Espanol, y Castiza, Espanol (From a

Spanish Man and a Castiza Woman, a Spanish Boy), depicts a man standing in a contrapposto position who is looking down at a young child who stands between the man 69

and a woman. The woman looks down at her dress and appears to be using a washcloth to clean something from the front of it.

The Espanol man wears a blue jacket and pantalones, with a white shirt, white jabot, white ruffled lace sleeve cuffs, and white stockings. The jacket and pantalones have white trim, and his jacket has red lining. A button closure is present on the pantalones, but are noteably absent from the jacket and pantalones waist. Over his outfit, the Espanol wears a red cape with brown trim on the shoulders. His son is handing him a dark brown round hat with a wide brim. The Espanol child is dressed similarly to his father, although his jacket and pants are white, and he is not wearing a cape. Like his father, he has a round hat with a wide brim, but the child’s is cream-colored. The hat sits on a pile of brown fabric, which could be a cape similar to his father’s. Aside from the buckles on his shoes, no hardware is present.

The overall mood of the painting is gentle and serene and shows a quiet scene of a so handing his hat to his father as the father reaches for the door handle to leave. Muted blues, greys, and browns fill most of the image, with the exception of the Espanol’s bright red coat. The mother and child blend into the background, while the father’s red cape draws the viewer’s attention towards him. The room the subjects are standing in feature mirrors in golden frames, a wooden chair, and mauve and white jacquard wallpaper with a chair rail. All three subjects have light hair, although the father and son have blond or light brown hair, while the mother has warm brown or copper hair. The

Castiza ranking is a mixture of Espanol/a and Mestizo/a (Carrera 2003), and the reddish 70

hue of her hair may indicate her Mestizo heritage. The Castiza is dressed in a white shirt and corset with lace details and a red ribbon laced up the front, a blue and brown skirt with a red petticoat, white stockings, and earrings and a necklace that look similar to pearl. Like her partner and son, her shoes he Castiza’s shoes are brown with silver or tin buckles. However, her shoes feature a red lining. 71

Figure 7. De Espanol, y Mestiza, Castizo Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

In the De Espanol, y Mestiza, Castizo (From Spanish and a Woman of Mixed

Blood, a Castizo), an Espanol lounges beneath a tree while being served leafy greens on a platter by a young Castizo while a Mestiza stands next to a table and looks on. The 72

lounging Espanol wears clothes that fit closely to the body: a mustard yellow jacket with no buttons present, a white shirt with a high collar and lace cuffs, white stockings, black shoes with silver or tin buckles, and a cream-colored round hat with a large brim. His pants are hidden from view by a brown and black blanket so any possible hardware is hidden from view. His hair is white, and possibly a powdered wig. The Mestiza wears loose clothing, but the position of her rebozo reveals a skirt that is tightly-fitted at the waist. The rebozo features blue and white stripes, and her white skirt is interrupted by a large red stripe with blue borders that runs from her hips to her knees. A white shirt with elbow-length lace ruffles is tucked into the skirt, and her matching choker and earrings have a similar look to pearl. She wears her copper-colored hair parted down the middle in a large, low bun, and wears no headdress.

Again the viewer sees a mood of contentment and peacefulness. Each subject has a slight smile on their face, and they seem to enjoy the forest they relax in. They are surrounded by trees, and the Mestiza holds a knife to pick fruit and leaves off the plants that sit in baskets placed on a table covered with a white tablecloth. The Castizo son wears clothing similar to that of the other Espanoles: close-fitting dark bluejacket and pantalones, and a white shirt and white stockings. Curiously, his hair is both short- medium length and free-flowing at the ends, or in a bun similar to his mother’s and other women depicted in the series so far. Because Clapera reworked his images and didn’t cover up certain details (see painting #1), it is possible that the Castizo was initially intended to be a Castiza. 73

Figure 8. De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato (From a Spanish Man and an African Woman, an

African-Spanish Boy) portrays a light-skinned man playing with his medium-dark- 74

skinned child while a dark-skinned mother looks on. The father wears a white cloth cap over his light brown hair, a brown jacket and pantalones a blue shirt with a white jabot, red sash or belt, white stockings, and brown shoes with silver or tin buckles. The legs of the pantalones have a buckle closure, and either buttons or decorations up the leg. His jacket features white trim on the pockets, sleeves, and edges, and he has lace sleeve cuffs.

His Mulato son is wearing a bluejacket that features a pocket and single vent on the back seam, and matching pantalones. Similar to his father, he sports a white shirt and stockings, and brown shoes with silver or tin buckles. Like his mother, his hair is closely cropped and curly. He is also has dark skin that denotes his African heritage, although it is not as dark as his Negra mother’s.

There is a marked juxtaposition between the subjects and their surroundings. The subjects look playful and happy, but their surroundings are filled with varying shades of muted browns and greys that almost look dirty. The earthenware, plate hanging on the wall, cookware, countertop, high window, and fireplace suggest they are in a kitchen. The

Negra mother is the first adult subject to feature dark skin, but she is dressed similarly to other women that have been featured thus far. However, her corset is open to reveal a semi-fitted white shirt with elbow-length sleeves that puff out above the elbow. Her skirt is orange and red and features a green zig-zag pattern that gives it a festive appearance.

Unlike the Espanol and Mestiza women, she wears no jewelry and has curly, close- cropped hair. 75

Figure 9. De Mulato, y Espaftola, Morisco. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

In De Mulato, y Espanola, Morisco (From a Spanish-African Man, and a Spanish

Woman, a Moorish Boy), a man with a medium skin tone and highly decorated clothing leans against a table while pushing a light-skinned woman away. A child with light- 76

medium skin tugs at the woman’s skirt. The man, a Mulato, is dressed in a multitude of colors and decorations. He wears a blue fitted coat with white trim on the seams, collar, and pockets. The trim features embroidered flowers. The coat has a red collar that matches the jacket underneath. A black neckerchief is tied around his neck, and his dark blue pants match his coat. He wears knee-high dark brown riding boots with spurs. The boots are the first footwear in the series that differ from the ankle-length shoes with buckles that most subjects have worn previously. The Mulato also has short, frizzy hair that looks it was brushed back from the face. The Espanola wears a white cropped jacket, a white shirt, and a skirt decorated with golden stripes and pink flowers. She sports white teardrop earrings and a brown choker. Her brown shoes with silver or tin buckles peak out beneath her skirt. Her warm brown/copper hair is pulled back but is in disarray.

The scene is one of disarray, conflict, and vexation. Plates of food, dishtowels, and a tri-comered hat have been knocked to the floor. On the table, a bowl of liquid spills onto the floor. The room is dark, almost as though it was cast in a shadow. A Morisco child wearing red jacket and pants and white shirt and stockings looks worried as he pulls on his mother’s skirt. The Mulato looks directly at the viewer with a look that lies somewhere between apathy and delight, while the Espanola angrily clutches his coat and reaches for his head. He holds out his right hand almost casually to push her away, and in his left hand he holds a whip. The scene is in strong contrast to the previous four paintings, which depict relatively content and serene scenes. Clapera almost seems to 77

suggest that Espaholes and Mulatos/as should not cohabitate or produce children together.

Figure 10. De Morisco, y Espahola, Alvina. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). 78

De Morisco, y Espanola, Alvina (From a Moorish Man, and a Spanish Woman, an

Albino Child) portrays a light-skinned woman reaching for a medium-skinned man who gazes at the viewer, while a light-skinned, blond-haired girl holds the woman’s hand and rubs her eyes. The Espanola is wearing a white shirt with ruffles at the elbow and ruffled skirt with a red bow and red trim, a brown rebozo or poncho, and dark brown shoes with silver or tin buckles. She wears white drop earrings and a black ribbon around her neck.

Like the other Espanolas depicted, her hair is parted down the middle and pulled back, and she is possibly wearing a flower decoration in her hair.

The subjects stand near some trees on a waterfront, with rolling hills in the background. The pastel blues, greens, and soft browns create a sense of calm, while the

Alvina daughter’s red skirt makes her stand out from her parents. The Morisco father wears clothing similar to other men portrayed thus far, but has no jacket or jabot, and wears his curly hair down past his chin. His right stocking falls down, and he is less “put- together” than any of the other men previously pictured. He is holding a ceramic dish, and his body is turned away from the Espanola, who seems to be attempting to get his attention. Again, this may have served as a warning from Clapera that Espanola women should not form domestic relationships with men of lower rank. The Alvina's appearance is somewhat of a curiosity. She has blond hair, blue eyes, and pail skin. The phenotypical expression of her genetic makeup seems highly improbable, considering that her father is a Morisco (with one black and Spanish parent and another Spanish parent). In order for her to have blond hair and blue eyes, her father would have to carry the recessive genes for those traits, which, with his European heritage, is possible. mm

Figure 11. De Alvina, y Espanol, Torna-Atras. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). 80

In De Alvina, y Espanol, Torna-Atras (From an Albino Woman, a Spanish Man,

Throwback Baby), the viewer sees a light-skinned woman sitting cross-legged next to a light-skinned man holding a dark-skinned baby. The man, an Espanol, wears a brown jacket with a blue lining, red collar and red sash, white lace sleeve cuffs, and brown pantalones. His shirt is blue, his shoes are dark brown, and he sports a white collar and stockings. On the ground to his left lie a cream-colored hat with white and red flowers around the crown, and a pile of blue fabric with gold trim that could possibly be a cape or cloak. His jacket features white trim, pockets, and silver-colored buttons on the sleeves, pockets, and front.

In contrast to De Morisco, y Espanola, Alvina, both parents have light skin, while their child has dark skin. The blond-haired Alvina is dressed in a red skirt, white shirt, and white corset, and wears a mantilla typically associated with members of lower castas.

The Torna-Atras is swaddled in a white blanket, and neither parent seems to notice or care that their child has much darker skin than either of them. The underlying message seems to be that although the Alvina appears to be white, she is actually of African heritage, and is capable of producing a black child. This painting seems to serve as a warning to members of the Spanish crown that it is possible for colonial subjects’ looks to betray their actual casta ranking. It also highlights the importance of dress in re­ affirming the social positions of casta members. 81

Figure 12. De Torna-atras, e Indio, Lobo. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). 82

De Torna-atras, e Indio, Lobo (From a Tom-Apart Woman, and Indian Man, a Wolf

Boy) is the first time in the series that an Indian man is shown. He wears a brown cap and a loose, white garment similar to a knee-length dress. He does not wear a shirt, a jacket, pants, stockings, hardware, embellishments, or shoes. He stands out from other subjects presented thus far in his dress, as even the India woman from De Espahol, e India, nace

Mestiza wore clothing that was clearly influenced by Spanish Bourbon styles. His partner, a Torna-atras woman, is wearing clothing that is falling apart. She also wears no shoes and no embellishments, but she is otherwise dressed similarly to other women depicted so far. Their son also wears no shoes and has skin that is darker than the Indio’s.

The Indio holds a wide, flat basket with a raised center, and the subjects appear to be processing a white food item from the barrels in the background. The adults have looks of concern on their face as the son reaches towards them, or perhaps towards the bowl filled with a white food substance. 83

Figure 13. De Lobo, e India, Sambaigo. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

De Lobo, e India, Sambaigo (From a Wolf-man, and Indian Woman, a Sambiago) presents a dark-skinned man with straight hair sitting on the floor and looking towards a woman with medium skin and pulled-back hair who is kneeling and making tortillas. A 84

small boy stands behind her and looks at something to his left, outside of the frame of the image. The India is wearing a white top blue skirt, with no shoes. Although her skirt is fitted at the waist, she is not wearing anything that restricts her movement. Aside from a blue ribbon that is wrapped around her updo, she wears no embellishments or jewelry that are visible to the viewer. Throughout the series, members of lower castas are frequently depicted indoors in domestic settings, as if to show off their occupations.

These indoor scenes appear darker than those painted outside and cast a shadow that brings the mood of the paintings down from one of jubilation to one of toil and/or turmoil. This painting is no different. The subjects sit in a structure made of thin pieces of wood thatched together, and the woman works while the man looks on and holds a whip in his right hand, as though he is ready to hit her should she stop working. Unlike other children previously seen, the child is chubby, and wears clothing that is torn, ill-fitted, and falling apart. The Lobo is wearing a white garment that exposes his torso and left arm, and it is difficult to tell whether he his wearing loose white pants or something similar to a gown. The subjects’ facial expressions are neutral and content, but the Lobo’s gaze and whip in hand give an ominous feel to the panel. 85

Figure 14. De Sambaigo, e India, Cambujo. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). 86

De Sambaigo, e India, Cambujo (From a Sambaigo Man, and Indian Woman, a

Slow, Lazy Dark-Skinned Boy) (Martinez 2002) shows a medium-skinned woman sitting cross-legged making yarn, with a dark-skinned man coming towards her with his right hand in the air. A child looks on with a worried expression on his face. The India wears a white and red rebozo, and a blue high-waisted skirt. She also wears orange drop earrings and a low bun or braids, similar to most other Indias depicted in the series. She has a slight smile on her face, as though she is not anticipating the conflict or possible violence that is about to befall her at the hands of the Sambaigo. The Sambaigo is facing completely away from the viewer so that even his face is not visible. This is the first and only time this happens in the series. He wears a white shirt and red pants that flare at the bottom, and no shoes. In his right hand he holds an object, possibly a tool. He is blocked in by a woodworking station, and tools can be seen on the floor. The Cambujo child wears what look like rags that are barely hanging onto his body, and he looks up worriedly at his father. 87

Figure 15. De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Ciapera 1775). 88

In De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado (From Slow, Lazy Dark-Skinned Man, and an Afriean-Spanish Woman, a Mixed Red and Black Person), a small child looks on with a worried expression on his face while his Mulata mother looks back in his general direction, and his Albarazado father drinks, presumably alcohol, from a ceramic vessel.

The Mulata wears a white huipil with blue flowers embroidered in the sleeves and a blue hem, and a red skirt. Over her outfit she wears a white apron. She also wears blue and red drop earrings, and a white and blue double-stranded beaded necklace. She bends over to prepare fish and fowl for a stew while standing in front of a small child who is wearing a blue and red vertical striped shirt. The Cambujo has an empty, glazed over look in his eyes, and the both the Mulata and the Albarazado appear worried. Again, we see what may be interpreted as foreshadowing in the Cambujo depicted here and in the previous painting. As a child, the Cambujo is subjected to turmoil and strife in a domestic setting, and as a coping mechanism turns to drinking as an adult. His son looks on, learning from his father’s actions. 89

Figure 16. De Albarazado, Mestiza, Barcino. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

De Albarazado, Mestiza, Barcino (From a Red and Black Mixed Man and a

Spanish and Indian Mixed Woman, a Reddish-Grey Baby) portrays a medium-dark skinned man walking with a basket on his head while touching the package a medium- 90

skinned woman is carrying on her back. The woman holds a baby who is not wearing clothing visible to the viewer. The Mestiza woman wears a headdress similar to a mantilla, a flowing, white rebozo with red stripes near the edges, and a blue skirt. She wears no shoes or jewelry, but does carry an item on her back that may be ceramic ware inside of a cloth wrap. She looks down at her baby, who is lounging contently in her arms as she walks. Behind the Mestiza walks an Albarazado man who looks behind him with his mouth agape, as though he is experiencing deep anguish. In contrast to his otherwise medium-dark features, his eyes are blue. He also has bangs, which is previously unseen on any of the subjects. Due to the contrast of the soft blue/green color palette that dominates most of the scenery and the relatively content facial expressions of the Mestiza and the Barcino, the Albarazado’s facial expression is particularly jarring. The viewer is left wondering what is troubling him. Figure 17. De Barcino, y Mulata, China. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). 92

De Barcino, y Mulata, China (from a Reddish-Grey Man and African-Spanish

Woman, a Kinky-Haired Girl) shows a dark-skinned woman sitting cross-legged on the ground and clapping while a dark-skinned man plays a stringed instrument, and a small dark-skinned girl happily looks on. The Mulata sitting on the ground beneath a tree wears a white shirt with smocking or gathering on the sleeves, a red shawl and sash, and a cream-colored skirt with red detailing. Her feet are not visible so it is not possible to tell whether or not she is wearing shoes or not, but she does not have any jewelry on. Her copper hair is kinky and natural and is not brushed into the low bun seen on many of the casta women previously depicted. She is clapping and has a jubilant look on her face.

Her Barcino partner wears a similar color palette to her, with a pink jacket, white stockings, and red pants. He wears shoes with buckles. In the background, the couple’s daughter watches the Barcino with her hands tucked into her pockets. The endearing scene is completed by an earthy setting filled with blue-green trees, soft-brown ground, and gently rolling hills in the background. Although all of the subjects are of lower castas, their dress and mannerisms, along with the general mood of the painting, match those that depict higher casta rankings such as Espaholes. A notable difference - aside from phenotypical features - is the presence of a musical instrument, which has not previously been seen in the paintings. Figure 18. De Chino, e India, Genizara. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). In De Chino, e India, Genizara (From a Kinky-Haired Man, and an Indian

Woman, a Native American Servant) (Russell 1994) we see another woman making yam. 94

A man stands tall and looks over at her while a toddler plays with a basket full of fiber.

The Indian wears a brown rebozo with white and red embellishments, a white shirt with a large ruffle above the elbow, and a white skirt with red and white trim and cream lace or chiffon. She wears red earrings and a red hairnet, but no shoes. She looks tired, but goes about her work diligently. The Chino holds a piece of fabric in his hands and takes a similar dignified pose as the Espanoles. However, he wears no stockings, and his left shoe has a hole in it. In the background, the Genizara baby wears an outfit similar to most of the women depicted: a white shirt and a blue skirt. From an early age the child learns her domestic duties from the mother. Kitchenware hangs on the walls in the background, and a rug is rolled up in the comer. A stringed instrument also hangs on the wall, reminiscent of the painting before it in the series. The overall mood is calm if not a little sleepy and worn out. Browns, orangish-reds, and greys dominate the scene, providing a quality of low energy to the painting. Figure 19. De Genizaro, y Mulata, Gibaro. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775). De Genizaro, y Mulata, Gibaro (From a Servant Man, and an African-Spanish

Woman, a Mountain Baby) shows a woman leaning over a man who appears to be passed out drunk, or close to it. A small child grabs the man’s foot to attempt to stir him. The woman is a Mulata, and has dark skin with reddish-brown hair parted down the middle 96

and put into a low bun or braids. She wears a white shirt and pink skirt, with a blue blanket or cloak over her shoulder. Her skirt is torn to reveal a white petticoat underneath. She is bent over the Genizaro, who wears no shirt. He only wears loose white pants, which are falling apart so that they are almost rags. He wears no shoes and wears a hat similar to that seen on Espaholes, but it looks well-worn and flimsy. It looks as though he may have vomited. The Gibaro child wears white shirt and brown pantalones, but no stockings, shoes, jacket, or hat. The subjects appear to be in an alleyway or next to the entrance of a building, which is painted with grey undertones. Clapera seems to suggest that the Genizaro is incapable of taking care of himself, and the Mulata’s facial expression seems to indicate that the Genizaro frequently becomes intoxicated and often needs to be helped back home. Again, Clapera seems to be warning the viewer of what happens when certain racial mixtures occur. Figure 20. De Gibaro, y Mulata, Tente en el ayre. Courtesy of Denver Art Museum (Clapera 1775).

In the final image, De Gibaro, y Mulata, Tente en el ayre (Of a Mountain Man, and an African-Spanish Woman, a Boy Suspended in the Air), a dark-skinned woman pours liquid into a ceramic vessel for an awaiting man. A small child holds up a vessel, 98

waiting for his turn. The Mulata wears a white jacket with ruffled sleeves that end above the elbow, a white shirt, and a pink skirt. Her hair is short and curly, and she wears white earrings but no other jewelry. She happily pours what may be alcohol into the Gibaro ’s ceramic vessel as he looks on desperately. His clothes are falling apart, and his shoes do not feature any buckles. The small Tente en el ayre boy wears a white shirt and blue pants, and shoes similar to his father’s. He mimics the Gibaro by holding up a similar vessel, and both of them have an empty vessel waiting in the other hand. The grim looks on their faces are juxtaposed by the blue sky, white clouds, and flowers blooming around the barrels and wooden structure, which may provide shade to those who stop by.

Frequency of Casta Rankings Present at San Francisco Presidio, by Gender

Casta Ranking Frequency Casta Ranking Frequency Espanol 6 Espanola 2 Mestizo 0 Mestiza 3 Mulato 2 Mulata 4 Indio 1 India 4 Total 9 13 22 Source: Clapera 1775

As the paintings progress through different possible race mixtures, the overall state of the subjects seems to get gradually worse, especially for men. Women tend to look still and complacent, even when unhappy, and often blend into the background. Men have more dynamic poses, and their clothing is often more brightly colored than women’s. Whatever story is being told in each painting seems to center around the men, especially when there is conflict. Children are especially passive, and seem to serve as 99

little more than onlookers who provide a visual example of what the outcome of a race mixture may look like, and a possible forewarning of the ways that parents’ behaviors influence children and determine what they will become when their generation becomes adults. More often than not, the mood of the colorways matches that of the subjects.

Blues and greens are present in calm, serene scenes, where subjects are relaxing, while greys and browns are present when there is conflict, turmoil, or domestic work being performed.

Clothing Style by Gender

Male Female

■ Spanish Bourbon ■ Hybrid ■ Amerindian

The exception to this is the last painting, where the setting is very calm and aesthetically pleasing, but is thrown into sharp relief by the hollow-cheeked Gibaro who is waiting for his vessel to be filled. Most of the women appear kind, calm, patient, and complacent. Their dress generally tends to be the same no matter what their social station, 100

Frequency of Casta Rankings Present at San Francisco Presidio, by Age

Casta Ranking Frequency Casta Ranking Frequency Espanol/a Adult 7 Espanol/a Child 1 Mestizo/a Adult 2 Mestizo/a Child 1 Mulato/a Adult 5 Mulato/a Child 1 Indio/a Adult 5 Indio/a Child 0 Total 19 3 22

Presence or Absence of Shoes, Hardware, Embellishments, Closures, and Jewelry, by Casta Ranking*

Casta Shoes Hardware Embellishments Closures Jewelry

Espanol 1 + + + -- India 1 + --- +

Mestiza 1 + - + - - Espanol2 + + + + -

Espanol 3 + + + - - Espanol4 + + + + - Mestiza 2 + - + - +

Espanol5 + + + + -

Mulato 1 + + + - -

Mulato 2 + + + -- Espanola 1 + + + - +

Espanola 2 + + + - +

Espanol 6 + + + + - Indio 1 + -- + - India 2 -- + -- India 3 n/a - + - + Mulata 1 n/a - 4* - + Mestiza 3 - ---- Mulata 2 n/a - + - + India 4 - - + - + Mulata 3 n/a - - --

Mulata 4 n/a - + + + * “+” indicates presence of object, while indicates absence of object with few variations. The men’s clothing, on the other hand, varies from close-fitted, highly flamboyant outfits, to rags that are barely hanging onto their bodies. When 101

reviewing the paintings as a whole, one gets the impression that the men play a more pivotal role in Spanish colonial social rankings than women or children do. This notion is further explored in the following section.

Archaeological Evidence

Because clothing decomposes faster than hard, durable goods, textile-related archaeological evidence at the San Francisco Presidio is sparse. Although over one million artifacts have been recovered that relate to the Spanish occupation period, only a few dozen relate to clothing (Voss 2008a). Because of this, archaeological evidence should be used in conjunction with other types of evidence to better understand the degree to which castas complied with Spanish elites’ sartorial expectations. In the following section I outline the types of textile-related archaeological evidence found at the Presidio that relates to the four castas present at the Presidio during the Spanish colonial period. I subsequently compare the evidence to Francisco Clapera’s casta paintings.

Site Beads Buttons Buckles Religious Ornaments Building 13 24 5 0 0 Chapel 58 6 1 2 Source: Voss 2008a

Textile-related evidence at the presidio consists of the following categories: buttons, buckles, beads, and religious ornaments. These durable goods were excavated beginning in 1996 from well-preserved trash middens in building 13 and the chapel, both located in the main quadrangle. (Voss 2008a). The trash midden from building 13 rested 102

beneath the clay floors and foundations of the San Francisco Presidio’s original quadrangle, and dates from roughly 1776-1800 (Voss 2008a: 140). The chapel was constructed in 1784 and demolished in 1826 and is located in the main wing of the original quadrangle (Simpson-Smith and Edwards 2000:40-44; Voss 2008a: 135).

Building 13 yielded twenty-four glass beads and five buttons, while the chapel yielded fifty eight beads, five buttons, a buckle, and two religious ornaments.

Buttons and button fragments from building 13 are single piece uniform buttons made from a brass-like copper alloy. Four of the buttons have drilled shanks, while one features a wire eye loop. The buttons range in size from 14.4 mm to 17.4 mm in diameter

(Voss 2008a, Voss 2008b). Their size range indicates they were used for fastening sleeves or trousers (Deagan 2002). Two of the buttons appear silver because of their tin plating. All five buttons are types that are found on Spanish colonial frontier soldiers’ clothing. The buttons’ lack of decorations and material makeup indicate they belonged to material personnel from lower ranks, and their diameters indicate they were too small for waistcoats. Button 6014 has a complete drilled wedge shanks and is tin-plated. Its diameter is 15.4mm. Button 603 l ’s diameter cannot be determined, but features a drill- wedge shank. Button 6039 has a 17.4mm diameter and has a complete button with a drilled-wedge shank fastener, but features no decorations. Button 6052 has a diameter of

161 .mm. It is a complete button with a broken drilled wedge shank and no decoration.

Button 6064 is a complete button plated with tin. It has a soldered brass wire eye and no foot. Its diameter is 14.4 mm (Voss 2008a; Voss 2008a, b). 103

Artifacts recovered from the chapel show greater variety than those in building

13. Buckle 02250 measures 14.3mm by 13.0mm. It contains no decorations, is incomplete, and is most likely a shoe fastener (Voss 2008a, b). Button 02220 is whole, but bent button facing. Its diameter is 12.0mm and it features a filigree flower motif.

Button 03629 is a button back with a soldered brass fastener and a wire eye and foot. It has a diameter of 9.4 mm. Button 06541 has a diameter of 11.3 mm and is copper-plated with a soldered brass wire eye and no foot. Button 07001 has a diameter of 16.0 mm. It is a complete button with a soldered eye and no foot. One unnumbered button with a diameter of 15.8 mm is complete except for its foot and has a soldered brass fastener and wire eye. It features a molded phoenix pattern.

Two of the recovered buttons are backings of buttons used to decorate men’s clothing. These backings would hold bone, gems, or paste jewels (Voss 2008a, b). One of the backings has a floral filigree design, while the other has a brass wire loop fastening threaded through a small central aperture instead of being soldered in place (Deagan

2002). Decorated buttons likely would have appeared on jacket cuffs or the center of a waistcoat, and are associated with higher social rankings. More decorative buttons may have been found in the chapel than in building 13 because the chapel was the location of weddings, funerals, religious ceremonies, and social functions. Notably, all of the fasteners excavated are associated with male dress (Voss 2008a,b). The one buckle fragment (artifact number 02250) recovered from the chapel is believed to be part of a shoe fastener, and is incomplete. 104

Similar to buttons found at the San Francisco Presidio, the number and types of beads found in building 13 and the chapel differ significantly. In building 13, twenty-four glass beads were found that are typically associated with Spanish colonial sites in North

America. The chapel yielded fifty-eight beads (Voss 2008a, b). At each site, almost all of the beads are short (1.2mm to 4.3mm), less than 6mm in diameter, “cylindrical, tumbled, monochrome, [and] drawn” (Voss 2008a:282), and typical of embroidery beads.

The beads vary largely by reflective color. With the exception of one artifact, all of the beads from building 13 are black or grey. The other beads is a Comaline d’Aleppo, and is translucent red and white (Sprague 1985:94). At the chapel, dark grey and black beads comprise 24% of the beads, monochrome beads ranging from blue to blue-green make up 34% of the specimens, and 5% are Comaline d’Aleppo. Glass costume pearls, white and clear beads, and purple, brown, pink, and red beads, and a wire-wound bead were also found (Voss 2008a, Voss 2008b). Beads ranged from 1.5mm to 7.9mm in diameter, and most are thought to be embroidery beads. There are, however, nine large, necklace-sized beads. Similar to the buttons found in building 13 and the chapel, the greater diversity of beads at the San Francisco Presidio may suggest people used the chapel as a public space that facilitated dressing up more than domestic spaces.

Two religious ornaments were excavated from the chapel. The first was a molded crucifix that may have served as a devotional offering during construction of the chapel

(Voss 2008a). The second, a milagro, is an amulet “usually shaped like a body part, often 105

offered to a statue of a saint along with prayers for healing” (Voss 2008a:280). The ornaments may have had a dual meaning of religious objects and items for personal wear.

Comparing Paintings and Archaeological Artifacts

Casta paintings depicted a casta member’s “proper” clothing in the Spanish

Bourbon era. By comparing archaeological evidence to the images in Francisco Clapera’s

1775 series, I examine the degree to which archaeological evidence suggests colonial subjects abided by colonial-era sumptuary laws at the San Francisco Presidio.

Buttons

At the San Francisco Presidio, a total of eleven buttons have been excavated in building 13 and the chapel. Most of the buttons are plain and appear to have been part of military personnel’s uniforms, but a few of the buttons are notable because of their intricate designs and tin plating. Intricate designs and tin plating indicate that members of higher social ranking occupied the Presidio, and this is consistent with historical documents such as marriage certificates and birth records (Voss 2008a), but is also visualized in Clapera’s paintings. Only six subjects depicted had closures on their clothing, and of those four belonged to the Espanol casta . The other subjects to sport buttons are an Indio and a Mulato (the subjects are featured in De Espanol, y Castiza,

Espanol; De Espanol, y Mestiza, Espanol; De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato; De Alvina, y

Espanol, Torna-atras; De Torna-atras, e Indio, Lobo, and De Gibaro, y Mulata, Tente en elAyre). Because Clapera used soft brushstrokes and often left out minute details, it is 106

difficult if not impossible to tell the type of buttons featured, or if they have any designs on them. However, they do appear to be either silver or brown-gold in color, which is consistent with sumptuary laws that state higher castas were allowed to wear tin-plated or bronze buttons (Voss 2008b) and with the material makeup of buttons found in building

13 and in the chapel (Voss 2008a,b).

Although this analysis only examines the castas present at the Presidio and these castas seem to skew towards the top of the racial hierarchy, it is notable that members of the highest casta (.Espanol) are featured wearing buttons the most frequently. Although many of the subjects in Clapera’s series are seen wearing clothing in a Spanish Bourbon style, closures are often surprisingly absent, or come in the form of ties and ribbons. This is consistent with the small number of buttons found at the Presidio, especially when it is taken into consideration that most of the buttons at the Presidio most likely came from military uniforms. Because military rankings at the San Francisco Presidio existed outside of the sistema de castas, it is difficult to tell whether the buttons recovered were 107

associated solely with military members, or whether civilians also wore buttons.

Presence or Absence of Closures by Casta 6

Espafiol/a Mestizo/a Mulato/a Indio/a

■ Present ■ Absent

Spanish elites’ edicts on buttons and closures were gendered. Women who settled at the San Francisco Presidio were not allowed to wear metal fasteners because they were associated with lower castas (Voss 2008b), and are not seen on women in Clapera’s painting series (Clapera 1775). Instead, women were expected to fasten their clothing with laces and ties, or wear clothing that did not require fasteners. Only one woman (a

Mulata has her apron tied shut in De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado) is depicted with any kind of closure in Clapera’s paintings. Similarly, no archaeological evidence at the

San Francisco Presidio suggests that women wore buttons on their clothing, no matter what their casta ranking was (Voss 2008a, b). In contrast, men were the only subjects in

Clapera’s paintings to wear button closures, and buttons seemed to be associated with males of higher casta rankings and military members. No children were depicted wearing 108

buttons in Clapera’s paintings, and it is unknown whether any of the buttons excavated at the Presidio were on women’s or children’s clothing.

Buckles

Within Clapera’s painting series, the usage of buckles was seen across castas.

They were primarily featured on shoes and appeared either whitish silver or brownish gold, although some of the men had buckles on as closures on the knees of their pantalones. In total, eight Espanoles, two Mulatos/as, and five Indios/as wore hardware, while no Mestizos/as wore hardware. Generally, as subjects were lower in casta ranking, hardware such as buttons and buckles disappeared from the images, and some subjects were even featured completely shoeless. The buckle found at the San Francisco Presidio most likely belonged to a shoe, which is consistent with the paintings in the series

(Clapera 1775, Voss 2008a, b). Some subjects’ feet are not visible in the paintings, so it is difficult to tell what footwear they are wearing.

Men, women, and children are all featured wearing buckles across castas, although buckles tend to disappear as the subjects fall lower on the casta ranking.

Buckles were either silver-white or golden brown on men, women, and children.

Fourteen of the twenty two subjects were shown wearing shoes, and of those ten had buckles on their shoes. Children were also seen with buckles on their shoes. Boys were shown wearing the same color shoes and buckles and often the same types of accessories 109

as their father. The buckle artifact at the San Francisco Presidio could have belonged to a man, woman, or child of any of the casta rankings present.

Beads

Embroidery beads were the most common type of bead found at the San

Francisco Presidio. Because of Clapera’s soft painting style, it is not possible to determine whether certain clothing embellishments are embroidery (with or without beads), prints, or woven into the fabrics. However, embellishments are present and appear frequently in Clapera’s series across castas, but as with all durable goods categories, generally tend to appear less frequently as casta rankings lower. Some of the paintings feature outfits that are lavish and luxurious enough that it would not be outside the realm of possibility for them to feature embroidery beads. De Mulato, y Espanol,

Morisco portrays a Mulato man wearing a bright, highly decorated outfit in the Spanish

Bourbon style, and wears riding boots with spurs. The Espanola woman wears a white skirt covered in mauve flowers and golden stripes. Either of their costumes could have 110

embroidery beads on them.

Presence or Absence of Jewelry by Casta 7

Espafiol/a Mestizo/a Mulato/a Indio/a

■ Present ■ Absent

Larger jewelry beads were present at the San Francisco Presidio, but they were found less frequently. Jewelry was highly gendered in Clapera’s painting series, where only women were pictured wearing earrings, necklaces, or any other kind of jewelry adornment. Ten out of thirteen women had some kind of embellishment, and most are wearing a necklace and earring combination. Frequently, the necklaces feature a double or single strand of beads that are either white, orangish pink, or blue - colors that were all found at the San Francisco Presidio. Women are also frequently depicted wearing chokers made out of ribbon, which would not show up in the archaeological record at the

Presidio. All three of the children that fall into the casta rankings present at the San

Francisco Presidio are boys, and therefor are not shown wearing any jewelry. Ill

Chapter VI Conclusion

This thesis problematizes Spanish elites’ usage of casta paintings as a litmus test for the properly dressed Spanish colonial subject and compares archaeological evidence at the San Francisco Presidio to the paintings to explore the extent to which the four castas present at the Presidio adhered to Spanish Bourbon sumptuary laws. Like all casta paintings, Francisco Clapera’s 1775 series was created as an analogue to taxonomical classifications popularized during the Enlightenment Era. However, this mode of classification conflates biological categorizations with cultural traits, and therefore cannot typify all Spanish colonial subjects throughout the Spanish Empire, much less Alta

California and the San Francisco Presidio. In contrast to the paintings, textile-related artifacts at the San Francisco Presidio are largely related to military and religious life

(Loren 2007; Voss 2008a, b), and offer little information about the children of the San

Francisco Presidio. More often than not, archaeological evidence at the sight does not reaffirm that Spanish colonial subjects’ clothing choices aligned with the Clapera’s casta classifications.

With some exceptions, the subjects in Francisco Clapera’s series of casta paintings quality of dress decreases relative to their casta, and women and children appear to dress similarly in quality, if not usually less flamboyantly, than their male counterparts. For instance, the Espanol men appear the most well-dressed, with color- coordinated outfits that often match their children, and every clothing accessory is placed 112

just so. The Espanola women are also well-dressed but often in muted or pastel colors, and each one is wearing a matching earrings and necklace set. No matter the casta ranking, women are typically depicted wearing a combination of white, muted blues, and muted reds. In each of the other three castas, the outfits gradually appear less polished and coordinated as the ranking lowers, but sometimes feature more embellishments or bright colors worn by men and women, especially those classified as Mulato/a or

Mestizo/a.

Durable textile-related artifacts provide physical context for Spanish Bourbon visualizations of dress. Buttons, buckles, beads, and religious ornaments offer a glimpse into the daily lives of members of the Espahol/a, Mestiz/a, Mulato/a, and Indio/a castas, who had to negotiate their identity on communal and global scales through daily practices. The San Francisco Presidio was a relatively isolated outpost, making it harder to control what colonial subjects could and could not wear. However, it was also a military sight where clothing was assigned to soldiers and civilians. Literally and metaphorically, this clothing acted as a uniform.

One of the goals of this thesis is to address the ways in which colonial subjects navigated Spanish Bourbon sartorial expectations visualized through casta paintings as the stipulations of the sistema de castas shifted to accommodate complex cultural interactions on local and global scales. While the sistema de castas was not obsolete by the time settlers arrived in San Francisco in 1776, it did begin to take on a new form as

Mexico began its fight for independence and the Spanish crown realized that it could not 113

categorize all of its colonial subjects based on increasingly-complicated racial mixtures.

Spanish insecurities were visualized in the painting De Alvina, y Espanol, Torna-Atras, in which a well-dressed, seemingly European woman and a Spanish man produce a dark- skinned baby (Clapera 1775). The woman comes from Morisco and Espanol parents and is deceptively blond-haired and hazel-eyed. This painting appears to serve as a warning that phenotypical features are not the only traits to consider when determining a person’s casta. Archaeological evidence and historical documents such as marriage and birth records (Voss 2008a) suggests that settlers at the San Francisco Presidio eventually discarded the sistema de castas in favor of adopting the nascent Californio ethnicity.

Buttons associated with military uniforms and beads associated with religious practices, coupled with little textile-related archaeological evidence that differentiates social rankings may demonstrate that colonial subjects were more concerned with performing their daily duties as soldiers and religious subjects than adhering to casta rankings. Both military and religious items are notably missing from the casta paintings, perhaps because they are meant to represent idealized versions of casta members, and Spanish elite wished to ignore the often-devastating role that religious and military force played in subjugating indigenous peoples around the world, in favor of presenting a scientific,

“rational” version of the natural order of race-based social hierarchies.

The second goal of this thesis is to question whether the sistema de castas is an appropriate model for examining textile-related archaeological artifacts at the Presidio.

As of this writing, only two trash middens have been fully excavated. Both date to the 114

late 1700s or early 1800s (Voss 2008a), when the sistema de castas was still being utilized in historic records and daily practice at the Presidio. Casta paintings were still in favor and were being produced in Mexico around the same time as settlers arrived in San

Francisco and through the first three generations of Spanish settlers’ presence at the

Presidio. Further excavations and historical research should be performed that focus on the later years of Spanish settlement at the San Francisco Presidio in order to pinpoint when and why the sistema de castas fell out of favor. Until then, the sistema de castas should still be utilized to understand the daily practices of Spanish colonial subjects at the

Presidio, while attempting to understand Mexico’s influence on Spanish soldiers and their families.

Chapter VII Discussion

Clothing Expression and Social Positioning in Francisco

Clapera’s Casta Paintings

In looking at Francisco Clapera’s series of sixteen casta paintings, general patterns can be observed in regard to rank, gender, and kinship. Generally, the higher the casta, the better dressed the person is, although this varies based on gender, age, and association with other castas. Both women and men fulfill Spanish gender roles, with the man often standing confidently while the woman either relaxes or works and smiles demurely. Of the four castas present at the Presidio, men are usually dressed in more vibrant or contrasting colors than the women, and children are often dressed similar to the 115

parent of the same gender. Children are often seen observing their parents, as though mentally absorbing their every move as they learn how to navigate their position as a colonial other. Clapera’s paintings offer ideological representations of colonial life rather than a literal interpretation of casta rankings (Carrera 2007, Garcia Saiz 1989, Katzew

1996), and often feel as though they are foreshadowing the lives of the next generation of increasingly miscegenated colonial subjects who identify less and less as Spanish subjects and more as American Criollos.

Cuadros de castas are often numbered to demonstrate the proper order of hierarchical decent amongst various racial mixtures. Clapera’s series is no different. The first painting is titled De Espanol, e India, nace Mestiza, and features an Espanol man with his India partner and their Mestiza child. They all appear content, and food is plentiful. Like all Espanol men in the series, he is impeccably dressed in the Spanish

Bourbon style and gives the impression that he is an upstanding member of society who is capable and willing to take care of his partner and child. In contrast, the only Mulato male featured holds a whip or rope in one hand as he pushes his Espanola partner away and their child pulls on her skirt.

Generally, the lower a subject’s casta ranking, the more likely they are to be dressed in clothing that is utilitarian, of Amerindian style, and dirty or in need of repair.

They also appear to be in distress more frequently, and performing domestic chores.

Often, if a woman appears with a man below her casta, the scene is one of conflict or turmoil. This is true in De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado, in which a woman prepares 116

food while looking worriedly over her shoulder as her partner drinks from a vessel with a glazed look in his eyes and their small child stared up at her with a concerned look on his face. Each of the subjects is dressed in a hybrid of Spanish Bourbon and Amerindian styles. The woman wears loose clothing that is synched at the waist by an apron, while the man wears a loose white shirt and loose pantalones without stockings.

Subjects were painted in a positive or negative manner depending on who they were associated with, and a subject’s general disposition is influenced by the associated adult casta member who appears in the panel. “An increase in depicted violence is especially common in those panels where one or more figures possess significant African heritage” (Olson 2009:311), while “people of indigenous heritage are often shown as respectable and dignified when depicted in a relationship with a Spaniard, but when in a relationship with an African, they appear to occupy the lowest strata of society” (Olson

2009:311). As with other cuadros de castas, Clapera’s images depict those with African heritage as contaminated and uncleanable, while those with indigenous heritage could dilute their ancestry with Spanish blood. Clapera tends to paint those with African heritage in unflattering or compromising situations, often depicting poor parenting or a subject’s inability to take care of themselves. Their clothing stands out as gaudy, bright, and highly decorated in comparison to others (De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato), and their often-unruly and unmanageable hair acts as a metaphor for Spanish elites’ inability to govern a class of people who, in their eyes, barely counted as people (Olson 2009). 117

This judgement of taste as an extension of one’s social standing extended to

Clapera’s subjects’ surroundings. Racial and class-based hierarchies were publicly performed, and often rooted in commonplace material culture found in the civil society of

Mexican-American and New Spanish civilization (Olson 2009:320). “Within many

[cuadros de castas] series, location signals calidad, as higher status families appear in private houses or salons and lower status families stand on grimy streets or in outdoor markets and kitchens (Olson 2009:320). This is visible in every image in Clapera’s series, wherein those with Espanol/a heritage are always pictured relaxing or taking care of their children, but never performing domestic labor. In contrast, most of the scenes featuring a

Mestizo not associated with an Espanol/a, a Mulato/a, or an Indio/a portray at least one subject performing a domestic task such as weaving (de Sambaigo, e India, Cambujo) or preparing food (De Cambujo, y Mulata, Albarazado).

Women are often seen working, whereas men are often pictured in the middle of leisure acts such as lounging, playing an instrument, or drinking alcoholic beverages. As in other casta series, lower status African women “appear most in kitchens and lower- caste indigenous women are often depicted near rural cottages or selling fruits on urban streets (Olson 2009: 321).” They are available for public gaze despite a limited contribution to and participation in the public sphere. Most women seem complacent and happy to look on as they work, tend to their child, or relax, and the wife never controls the scene if she is of lower status than her husband. This does not fit the typical pattern of casta paintings, in which a wife will sometimes attempt to control the actions of her 118

higher-status husband (Olson 2009). In these paintings the man of high-ranking casta does not effortlessly maintain his role as head of the household or top of the social hierarchy, and thereby subjugates social and gender norms. In Clapera’s series, women tend to take on static poses unless working or fighting with their partner, and their clothing tends to be muted or pastel unless they are of African and sometimes indigenous heritage, and as a result tend to blend into the background. Due to the men’s tall, confident statures, dynamic poses, positioning in relation to their partner and child, and richly-colored clothing, they represent a dualism of gender roles that, while ideal to the

Spanish crown, was not always consistent with the actions of Spanish colonial subjects.

Children are especially important in Clapera’s casta series, and are often the most powerful person in the scene. “The prominence and roles given to children in many casta images demonstrate that as storehouses of social energy, depictions of the family carried more than a sense of natural hierarchy” (Olson 2009:317-318). In most cuadros de castas, children are typically pictured in between both parents (Olson 2009). However, with the exception of De Espanol, y Mestiza, Castizo, De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato, and

De Morisco, y Espanola, Alvina, Clapera does not paint children in between their parents. Instead he paints them either interacting with or observing their parents, often mimicking them in dress style. Through the children, Clapera seems to be sending the message that the children are the next generation of colonial subjects to inhabit New

Spain, and that the mannerisms, clothing, and actions of their parents will determine the success or failure of Spain’s colonial endeavors. Although parents are sometimes pictured 119

performing violent acts, the children are never the focus of that violence (Olson

2009:317-318). The children are often intermediaries between their parents, pulling on their mothers’ skirts or attempting to stop a father from hitting his wife. The children’s status as American-born colonial subjects puts them in the position of controlling the future of the Spanish colonies. However, no matter what the status of the subjects, all are

“caught between their identity as colonizing Spaniards and colonial others” (Olson

2009:318).

Clapera’s Paintings and Archaeological Evidence at the Presidio

This research attempts to address whether colonial subjects at the San Francisco

Presidio dressed in a manner that conformed to Spanish elites’ sartorial expectations as visualized through Francisco Clapera’s casta painting series. Although most of the textile-related archaeological evidence is military or religion-oriented, some of the items excavated are featured in Clapera’s series. However, as of this writing there is not enough archaeological evidence to confirm or refute whether Presidio residents dressed in a manner similar to any of the subjects in Clapera’s series, or to determine how important dress was in forming and reinforcing their identity as first colonial others, then colonial subjects, and finally their own ethnicity. What is known is that casta paintings

“reproduce colonial anxieties about race and the elaborate systems of categorization and control designed to alleviate those anxieties,” and “[they] attempt to make truths about miscegenation in the colonial context through the representation of raced bodies” (Olson

2009:312). It is also known that Juan Bautista de Anza gave certain clothing items and 120

accessories, such as silk shirts, to the settlers as part of a social experiment to cement their position in the frontiers of New Spain, and that within a couple decades of the San

Francisco Presidio’s colonization, almost all of the residents identified as Espanoles

(Voss 2008a). At the Presidio, even casta members of African ancestry were allowed to improve their social rank through dress, marriage, and birth.

Clothing by Casta Ranking

Espaflol/a Mestizo/a Mulato/a Indio/a

■ Spanish Bourbon ■ Hybrid ■ Amerindian

Because of its militaristic and religious nature, most of the archaeological evidence found at the Presidio conflicts with Clapera’s visualizations of casta members.

Buttons and buckles are present in abundance in the cuadros de castas, but embroidery beads and religious ornaments are notably absent. Considering the hegemonic and physical impacts of the military and Catholicism on the Spanish Empire and the presence of religious figures or themes in other casta painting series, it is curious that Clapera’s paintings feature no trace of either. 121

Because of Clapera’s use of soft brushstrokes and his omittance of fine details, it is not possible to tell what type or quality of buttons are present on his subjects. All of those featured with buttons are male, and most are adults of higher castas. Some Espanol men and the only Mulato man in the series have buttons on their jackets or pantalones, while none of the women or children do. The buttons are either silver or gold in color and may be plated in either tin or bronze (Voss 2008b). Most of the buttons from the Presidio are plain and are likely from military uniforms, but a few have intricate designs and tin plating. Those that are not plain may reaffirm that colonists were of higher social ranking, and likely belonged to men since women used ties or other types of closures (Voss

2008a). It is possible that so few intricate buttons are present at the Presidio because there may not have been a need for them, or they may have been difficult to manufacture in a frontier environment that only received supplies roughly once a year.

Although almost every casta member represented at the San Francisco Presidio in

Clapera’s paintings wore shoes with buckles, only one buckle was found during archaeological excavations. The buckle was brass, which is consistent with some of the subjects in Clapera’s paintings. Some of the subjects were also pictured in shoes with silver-colored buckles, and almost all subjects who wore shoes had buckles no matter gender or age. The buckle found at the San Francisco Presidio dates to the late 18th century, around the time that settlers first arrived. Before the settlers gradually became

Espanoles and then Californios, they were lower-ranking casta members who were desperate to improve their living conditions and escape poverty. It is possible that their 122

shoes initially did not have buckles. Because of the strong presence of soladaos de cuera

(leather jacket soldiers), whose uniforms often featured boots and spurs, buckles may not have been as common at the Presidio.

Beads are present in Clapera’s paintings, but only in the form of earrings and necklaces worn by women. The paintings’ brushstrokes are not sharp enough to reveal fine details such as embroidery beads, and as a consequence it is not possible to know if they are represented on the subjects’ clothing items. In contrast, several dozen embroidery beads were found in the trash midden at the San Francisco Presidio chapel.

The presence of jewelry beads in the painting and in the chapel midden signify that luxury items were worn by colonial subjects for aesthetic purposes in public spaces. It can be inferred from the paintings that the wearing of beaded items such as necklaces and earrings is gendered, as only women are depicted with jewelry. The relatively large number of beads compared to decorative buttons may suggest that decorative items at the

Presidio are also gendered, although it is not possible to know whether the embroidery beads were originally attached to clothing items for men, women, children, or a mixture thereof. While women are seen wearing jewelry in public spaces and private spaces in

Clapera’s paintings, current archaeological evidence demonstrates that finery was reserved for public events that may have taken place in the chapel, such as communal gatherings and religious rituals (Voss 2008a).

Religious ornaments are absent from Clapera’s paintings, but were found within the chapel midden. Although missing from Clapera’s images, it was common to depict 123

religious ornaments or themes in casta paintings. “The Church used religious imagery

(painting, stained glass, statuary, controlled movement through cathedrals, etc.) to

‘narrate’ sacred stories through corporeal interaction” (Olson 2009:311). Ilona Katzew suggests casta paintings are analogous to hagiographic painting series such as tryptics that chronicle stories central to the Christian faith (Katzew 1996). Similarly, casta painting series “narrate the process of miscegenation” (Olson 2009:311). Although

Clapera’s paintings contain no religious imagery, they could invoke imagery related to hagiographic paintings, which held a large amount of sway in eighteenth-century New

Spain (Olson 2009).

Colonial Subjects and Daily Practices

This section discusses who is represented in Clapera’s cuadros de castas series and in textile-related archaeological evidence. It also discusses judgement of taste as social currency and situates colonial subjects at the San Francisco Presidio within their community and the Spanish Empire.

While Clapera’s paintings represent men, women, and children in equal number, archaeological evidence at the Presidio is skewed towards adult men who are either in the military or belong to a higher casta rankings through buttons, and women of higher casta rankings through jewelry and embroidery beads. The voices of children and lower casta rankings who dress in Amerindian or hybrid styles instead of Spanish Bourbon styles are heard the least. The paintings demonstrate an ideological paragon based in rational, 124

scientific thought and attempt to bring order to an increasingly miscegenous casta system that was difficult if not impossible to govern. Although homogenous motifs such as equal representation of man, woman, and child abound throughout the series, representation of different ages and gender does not align with archaeological evidence or historical evidence from the San Francisco Presidio.

Children from the four castas present at the Presidio are underrepresented in

Clapera’s paintings and in the archaeological record. Children made up roughly half of the population at the Presidio in the late 1700s, but of the twenty-two subjects analyzed in

Clapera’s paintings, only three were children. Textile-related archaeological evidence gives no clear indication whether any artifacts belonged to children, or if they all belonged to adults. The lack of children’s representation may seem peculiar, but Clapera does not portray the children wearing jewelry or hardware, aside from buckles on their shoes. The absence of archaeological evidence directly related to children, coupled with their lower casta rankings, suggests that children’s clothing did not contain durable goods. Perhaps parents did not think it was prudent for children to have items that were of high value and could be easily destroyed, or perhaps they were not seen as a necessity.

As with adults, clothing was supplied by the Spanish government, and so it was not seen fit to provide children with durable textile-related goods (Voss 2008b).

Judgement of Taste and Situating Colonial Subjects through

Casta Paintings and Archaeological Evidence 125

In Clapera’s paintings, casta ranking and judgement of taste were closely tied together. Generally, the highest-ranking casta members wore the finest clothing that was most in line with Spanish Bourbon fashions. Espanol men were particularly well-dressed, wearing highly-coordinated outfits with white knee-socks and a pop of color. As seen in

De Espanol, e India, nace Mestiza, they sometimes even wore powdered wigs. The lower the casta ranking, the less stylish the clothing became. People of African descent were sometimes featured in gaudy clothing (De Espanol, y Negra, Mulato; De Mulato, y

Espanola, Morisco), while people of indigenous descent were depicted in more utilitarian clothing (De Torna-atras, e Indio, Lobo; De Lobo, e India, Sambaigo). The subjects’ surroundings and the material culture in each scene reinforces not only a presence or absence of good taste, but also associates corporal aesthetic choices with leisure or domestic labor, contentment or distress, race and gender, and the ability or inability to improve one’s social status through marriage and birth.

The colonial subjects at the San Francisco Presidio could not always demonstrate this freedom of taste. Men, women, and children received ready-made clothing from infrequent shipments, and were mandated to wear close-fitting clothing typical of the

Bourbon style to distinguish themselves from local native populations (Voss 2008b). The uniform appearance and lack of freedom of taste contributed to the eventual uniformity of the settlers race-based social rankings, as it inhibited judgement of the colonial other based on their clothing. Although promised improved quality of life in return for their service (Voss 2008b), settlers were initially paid in clothing to “prevent gambling” (Voss 126

2008b:406) and deprived of resources. Russian settlers at Colony Ross would sometimes deliver goods to the colonists, who would be transformed into “gallant men” (Mora-

Torres 2005:51) who could, for a time, transcend their fixed identities as casta members defending the Northwestemmost frontier outpost against enemies real or perceived.

Situating Colonial Subjects through Clothing, Race, and Gender

Clapera’s paintings and textile-related archaeological evidence inform the way clothing, race, and gender participate in situating the colonial subject within the Spanish

Empire. Casta paintings “[embody] the dynamic contradictions in the construction and maintenance of the caste system in New Spain,” (Olson 2009:313), while archaeological evidence privileges the material culture that played a pivotal role in transforming colonial subjects from members of a hierarchical race-based caste system to a homogenous ethnic identity.

Casta paintings are idealized representations of racial mixtures, but they often did not succeed in accurately portraying the identity of the colonial other. However, a casta painting’s ability to accurately reproduce conditions of a casta member’s life “recedes in importance and is replaced by concern with how casta painting made visible the complex of self-understandings, aspirations, and anxieties of the elite who were its creators and its audience, tapping into and constituting a persuasive image of the colonial life-world

(Olson 2009: 314).” Because artists had a large degree of freedom to choose how to express the identities of casta members, conflicting representations of casta identities and 127

social contexts emerged. Casta paintings evoke “common sensations, concepts, images, ideas, [and] attitudes” (Burke 1950:21) which, consubstantially, allowed Spanish elite to simultaneously be distinct from the paintings and joined with them (Olson 2009:313).

Alternately, settlers at the San Francisco Presidio were somewhat isolated, and despite not having the sartorial freedom of decision, formed an identity unique to any other site in New Spain or Alta California.

The Caste System as a Model of Textile Analysis

Francisco Clapera created his series of paintings in the year before the settlers arrived at the San Francisco Presidio. Both events occurred at a time when telling

Europeans from lighter castes became more and more difficult. By the end of the 18th century, legal efforts to control miscegenation had been abandoned. Around this time, settlers began to homogenize into the Espanol/a casta and would eventually form the nascent Californio ethnicity. This begs the questions: is the sistema de casta an appropriate model through which to analyze textile-related archaeological evidence, and should comparisons be made between Clapera’s paintings and colonial subjects’ clothing at the San Francisco Presidio? I argue that the casta system is a valid lens through which to view Spanish colonial subjects at the Presidio, but that more research should be conducted concerning the influence of Mexican, Creole, and indigenous identity on

Spanish colonial settlers at the San Francisco Presidio. 128

Clapera’s clear distinctions of casta hierarchies represent “racial fiction designed to reassert colonial control” (Olson 2009: 314). As with all casta paintings, they attempt to engage in “European intellectual superiority” (Olson 2009: 314) by presenting as a taxonomical series that attempts to apply Enlightenment-era scientific thought to a cultural phenomenon. By doing so, the paintings de-emphasize Spanish authority and emphasize an emerging hybrid Creole American identity in Northern New Spain. The paintings serve the contradictory purposes of upholding and undermining colonial control. During this time at the San Francisco Presidio, settlers were aspiring towards higher social rankings to create a social class that was homogenous in name. The colonial others who became Espanoles came from mostly Indian and African backgrounds and were at one point considered impure and unworthy of higher social status. That they were able to become members of the highest casta meant that they, like Clapera’s paintings, simultaneously upheld and undermined the societal framework that contributed to the

Spanish Empire’s success. Around this time, as Mexico began its fight for independence, usage of the Spanish sistema de castas fell out of favor but did not completely disappear.

Echoes of racial sentiments from the sistema de castas still remain throughout the

Americas and are still used informally in Mexico (Olson 2009: 322). The usage of colorism, nationalism, and even the names of some of the castas still persists in social and ideological scales. Although it has changed form since its usage in the 1700s sistema de castas is a valid lens through which to view textile-based archaeological evidence.

Although the usage of casta names may have disappeared from public records at the San 129

Francisco Presidio around the same time that the sistema de castas ceased to be utilized, that does not necessarily mean that the ideologies that embodied and surrounded the sistema de castas immediately disappeared. The term Californio, which means a person of Spanish or Mexican heritage who was bom in California (Hart 1978) serves a similar purpose as a casta ranking in that it distinguishes an individual’s racial heritage but their physical place in post-Spanish colonial society.

Future Research

Potential future research of the dynamic relationship between sartorial aspirations in casta paintings and the materiality of casta identity at Spanish colonial sites in Alta

California falls into two categories: additional research at the San Francisco Presidio, and research at other Spanish settlements, especially at other Presidios in Alta California, similar to what is presented in this thesis.

At San Francisco Presidio, women and children are underrepresented in textile- related archaeological evidence. Because the site was a military installment populated by male soldiers and their families, much of the archaeological evidence found concerned military uniforms. Archaeological evidence also suggests that religion and communal gathering were important aspects of public visibility, but it is unknown whether non­ button artifacts belonged to men, women, or children. Children in particular are understudied, especially when considering that children initially outnumbered adults at

Presidio. These children went on to become the next generation of adults and likely 130

witnessed and experienced many changes in identity as it relates to clothing, and thusly should warrant further consideration.

The ways in which clothing changed diachronically at the Presidio should also be considered. Currently, there is a dearth of historical documents dating from the early

1900s at the San Francisco Presidio. A large part of the historical record is missing that could inform why and how Spanish colonial subjects shifted towards the Californio ethnicity, and how clothing influenced that shift. Archaeological evidence is also missing from this time period, as only two trash middens from the end of the 18th century have been excavated as of this writing. Another line of inquiry should address how royal decrees such as those of 1782 (Voss 2008b: 413) affected dress practices at the San

Francisco Presidio and other Spanish colonial sites. To what extent military and civilian clothing changed under Mexican rule should also be addressed.

Additional research of clothing at the San Francisco Presidio may address the lack of indigenous clothing-related artifacts. Two reasons no indigenous artifacts have been uncovered may be that metal hardware was typical of Europeans but not Amerindians, and Ohlone destroyed property of the deceased (Panich 2014:115). Another research question comes about when considering the internal ranking system of the Spanish military. Their ranking system existed outside of the sistema de castas. How did daily practices related to military affect soldiers’ clothing choices, and did a discrete military ranking system contribute to the abandonment of the sistema de castasl Finally, research should be conducted concerning clothing production and manufacture at the San 131

Francisco Presidio. Who was producing clothing there or at surrounding areas? What materials were they using? Did they rely primarily on shipments or handmade items?

How did local production and a frontier environment affect clothing styles at the Presidio, and did this contribute to the homogenization of social statuses?

At other sites, the following research may be considered: compare other casta paintings to textile-related archaeological evidence at the other presidios in Alta

California, create database of textile-related archaeological evidence at other Alta

California presidios for comparison, and compare clothing at West Coast Spanish

Colonial sites to East Coast/Texas Spanish Colonial sites.

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