Year of the Lash

“Punishing Slaves in Cuba”, an illustration of a slave being tortured using a ladder

Year of the Lash (in Spanish, Año del Cuero) is a term used in Cuba in reference to June 29, 1844, when a firing squad in Havana executed accused leaders of the Conspiración de La Escalera, an alleged slave revolt and movement to abolish slavery in Cuba. The term "Year of the Lash" refers generally to the harsh response toward the would-be revolt by the Cuban colonial authorities, whereby thousands of Afro-Cubans (both slave and free) were executed, imprisoned, or banished from the island. La Escalera ('the ladder') alludes to the fact that slave suspects were bound to ladders and whipped with the lash when they were interrogated.

Historians have debated over the years whether the Conspiracy of La Escalera was real or whether it was largely an invention of the Spanish authorities to justify a crackdown on abolitionists and the Afro-Cuban population, though at this point there seems to be a consensus that some kind of revolt was planned. The British consul to Cuba, David Turnbull, was convicted in absentia of being the "prime mover" of the conspiracy. Turnbull had already been expelled by Cuban authorities two years earlier.

Historical Background

Nineteenth-century Cuba was built upon systematized violence, similar to American slave societies. By the mid-nineteenth century, Cuba was one of the world’s largest sugar producers and one of Spain’s few remaining colonies. The plantations of the west-central region became legendary for their brutal labor as well as their sugar production. As the nineteenth century continued, slaveholders began to purchase increasing numbers of African women in an attempt to ensure their economic longevity. While the number of enslaved women continued to lag behind those of men, these women became critical to the resistance movements that unfolded in the 1840s.

The expansion of educational opportunities for girls should not be seen as part of an effort to improve the place of women. As fear of Africanization increasingly grew, Cubans argued that through the promotion of education for women and girls, Cuba would ensure their place among the “civilized nations of the world.” For Cubans in the nineteenth century, “civilization” was an extremely important idea, as it encompassed a bunch of meanings. Civilization indicated the “practices and customs of ‘cultured people’ instead of ‘natural rudeness.’” As the slave population continued to grow, and the sugar boom reached new heights in the 1840s, the notion of civilization became increasingly central to Cuban thought as Cubans desired to appear more “civilized.” This also explains why the extension of education to free people of color was left up to the captain-general according to the 1842 reform rather than being regulated. Attention to education was a reaction to the growing slave population, and numerous slave rebellions, especially La Escalera (1844). Yet the focus on female education certainly came before the concerns of the 1830s, 1840s, and later years in Cuba, further proving that education was central to the construction of the slave society.

Very few narratives by slaves themselves can be found; yet, a few notable exceptions exist. The slave narrative of Juan Francisco Manzano provides insight into slavery and the place of women on the plantation. The significance of Manzano’s work is that it is Spanish America’s only slave account written in the nineteenth century. Born a slave, Manzano’s talent for writing poetry brought him into contact with Domingo Del Monte. Del Monte took an interest in Manzano and arranged for the buying of Manzano’s freedom. Del Monte encouraged Manzano to write his Autobiography, which he began in 1835. Manzano would enter the history for reasons other than his autobiography. In 1844, the poet Plácido accused both Manzano and Del Monte of involvement in the Escalera conspiracy of 1844.

In March, May, and November 1843, a series of slave revolts occurred on the island of Cuba. In late December of 1843, an enslaved woman named Polonia Gangá informed her owner, Esteban Santa Cruz de Oviedo, that his sugar property was about to be overtaken by rebellion. Polina's admission is seen as the spark for hunting down the conspiracy. After Polonia are two African-born women of the Lucumí nation, Fermina and Carlota. These two women are identified as leaders in the November uprising, and much of the documented evidence backs up this information.

Little is known about Fermina, who was sentenced to death at twenty-four years old. It is very likely that as a Lucumí, Fermina, like Carlota, came from the region of Yorubaland, and was taken on board a slave ship somewhere along the Yoruba coast. If so, she would have been one of the thousands of people forced into the transatlantic slave trade from that region, partially as a result of the civil wars leading to the undoing of the Oyo kingdom.

Records indicate that she labored in the fields on the Ácana sugar plantation and expressed her dislike for the brutal working conditions on several occasions. During the summer of 1843, Fermina escaped from Ácana with a group of runaways, and the historian José Luciano Franco maintains that she and another slave organized a smaller rebellion that June. By November Fermina has a reputation as a troublemaker. For her defiance, Fermina Lucumí was brutally whipped and placed in iron shackles for five months. A massive uprising erupted on November 5, 1843, several days after they were removed.

The November Uprising

In connection to the November uprising, several enslaved women gave harmful testimony about Fermina that night. A woman named Filomena Gangá was asked about several suspected rebels but stated that “she only remembers having seen the black woman Fermina among the rebels.” When prompted for more information, Filomena reported that “Fermina joined the rebels to show them where the estate foreman and other families of the estate lived . . . [Filomena] saw her leading some of them showing them the doors of the rooms where the whites usually slept. . . .” Another Gangá woman similarly reported having seen Fermina and another well-known male rebel “clearly and distinctly,” with Fermina directing fellow slaves to where the white plantation residents slept. The woman, whose name was Catalina, said she heard Fermina and another male rebel shouting to others, “telling them ‘The whites are escaping . . .’ and began to run in pursuit of the fugitives.”

Camila Criolla, a field worker on the same estate, gave a similar testimony of these events, testifying that Fermina “was shouting to the Triunvirato slaves[,] telling them that the whites were escaping that way; that right away [the witness] observed that Fermina was approaching the plantain grove directing several slaves and telling them ‘grab that fat white man and hit him with your machete [dale de machetazos] for he is the one who puts [us in] shackles. . . .’” Camila clarified that she understood “the fat white man” to be the estate foreman or overseer. Another fieldworker named Martína provided more allegations against Fermina, saying that “with great shouts, she requested a large hammer to take off the shackles of the prisoners who were locked up on this estate.”

Fermina denied the allegations against her, however. When questioned about what she had been doing the night of the uprising, she stated that “she was sleeping in her cabin,” and that when she heard the commotion she fled from her cabin and hid in a cane patch. She insisted that those who testified against her must have done so “to place themselves in a good position [buen lugar] and leave her [in a bad one],” and that her accusers must have received some kind of reward.

Carlota Lucumí was enslaved on the nearby Triunvirato estate where the rebellion first broke out. It is likely that she worked in the fields. Carlota is best remembered for having attacked the overseer’s daughter at Ácana and for bragging about it to several other slaves. A field worker named Matea Gangá stated, “It is very true that a black woman from Triunvirato whom she . . . heard is named Carlota, was boasting that she had attacked with a machete [habia dado con el machete] a white daughter of the overseer who is named Doña Maria de Regla.” Magdalena Lucumí similarly testified that Carlota “was talking about having attacked the child Maria de Regla, daughter of the mayoral[,] with a machete. . . .” As a result of these and other testimonies, the supervising officer demanded to know if there was a slave named Carlota of the Lucumí nation among this plantation work gang [dotación]. Eventually, he received word that her body had been found the morning after the uprising.

Carlota supposedly took pride in her attack on the overseer’s daughter. Reportedly, she refused to be satisfied by the wounds she inflicted, insisting that the two male rebels that were with her hit the white girl again and harder [“que le dieran mas duro”], even though the male rebels believed her to be dead.

Several men who were called to testify described heading for the overseer’s house, looking to burn it, but it was Filomena and Catalina who testified that once the house was burning, Fermina “went with some of [the] blacks toward the patio of the house, showing them the doors of the whites’ dormitories so they might attack them.” The two male witnesses who talked about the attacks against the overseer’s daughter similarly testified mainly to their own role in saving these women from further harm.

Male witnesses would respond to questions about who the leaders were by sharing conflicts between enslaved black men and the white men who oversaw the plantation. Some of the male slaves may have been trying to protect Fermina, who was still alive, especially those who saw her as a comrade in arms. But it may also be true that when the male rebels were questioned, they would think of the activities of other men, believing that these individuals were of more interest to authorities.

Other Women Involved

As 1844 began, more and more women attended local meetings as the rebel movement gained momentum. There is a record of this as seen by a woman said to have attended a rebel meeting with her husband. In the words of a witness, “the free black man Joaquín Carabalí, and his wife Rita” were among those who used to come to his sugar mill to speak with a local slave captain.

Other examples like Dolores Criolla are scattered throughout the testimony. First, the refusal of hundreds of women like Dolores to notify estate mayorales and administradores about the intelligence they obtained is significant to the formation of a rebel movement. The position of many women, and indeed many men, as keepers of secrets and maintainers of discretion opposes the idea that they had no connection to the conspiracies unfolding on their estate.

But like Dolores, the majority of women questioned or mentioned in 1843 and 1844 were neither organizers nor public figures, and the activities they reported were too small to be seen as resistance. The case of Eusebia Criolla illustrates this point well.

Eusebia Criolla’s entry into the rebel activities of 1844 was an unspectacular moment. On Eusebia’s home estate of Recurso, a small group of men had been entertaining discussions of a large rebellion. On the afternoon in question, Pedro and Bienvenido Gangá had been reportedly discussing news of slaves on the nearby Echeverría mill that were planning to organize and were hoping the two would enlist other men. The plans went forward as Pedro maintained contact with a group of male rebels.

Almost a year later, Eusebia would recall how she overheard this conversation that seemed to spark a movement at Recurso. When questioned, she gave the following testimony: “ . . . approximately one year ago in her master’s home, she heard her companion Pedro[;] that he was letting those of his class Antonio and Bienbenido know in their language that on the sugar mill Purisima Concepcion de Echeverria, they were attempting to rise up against the whites, assuring that she knows absolutely nothing more than what she has declared. . . .”

Pedro Gangá later corroborated Eusebia’s story. Male rebel leaders reported that women on their estates learned of a coming rebellion by hearing it from other people. After providing authorities with a long list of men who had been complicit in rebel activities, Ramon Criollo, a rebel organizer in Ceja de Pablo, added: “The black women of the plantation force [dotación] had also known of the plot through hearing the conversations of the men.” Other leading male organizers were recorded as making similar statements about the women on their estates.

In May of 1844, a woman named Cecilia Criolla stated that “about four months ago she began to notice conversations amongst the slaves of this work gang that indicated they were plotting . . . a conspiracy to destroy and do away with the whites.” Cecilia continued “From what she has perceived, all the slaves of the work gang with the exception of very few, were accomplices in and ready for the plot,” but the organizers “did not discuss [their plans]” with the slave women. Cecilia’s statement concluded that “she was very careful to listen stealthily [ocultamente] to their secret conversations”; as a result, she had heard “from the very mouth of the organizers Alejandrino, Crisostomo and José Belen all that she has expressed. . . .”

In a district further south, a woman named Teresa Mina reported “that she heard [them say] that the blacks were going to kill the whites. . . .” Her statement went on to specify the “them” as two key organizers, but quickly concluded, “that she has nothing else to record on the subject.” Near Guanábana, a Creole woman named Antonia recounted how she overheard a group of male organizers discussing who would captain the local movement while she was bent over in the coffee plants.

La Escalera and Aftermath

Carlota and Fermina were accused of some of the worst acts of the uprising, and both women died as a result. Carlota was found dead the morning following the rebellion on one of the properties where a battle had occurred. Fermina was interrogated and imprisoned for several months. She was one of eight accused instigators—alongside seven men—to be executed by a firing squad. Her body was then burned. To witness this violent demonstration of state power, all the other slaves of the mill were ordered to be present, in addition to a slave representative from each of the nearby properties.

Following the outbreak of several rebellions near Matanzas, a local planter claimed to have discovered an elaborate conspiracy, and government agents under the orders of the Cuban captain general, Leopoldo O’Donnell, began their own investigation. During the course of that investigation, the government tortured suspects and arrested the “confessed” ringleaders. O’Donnell widened his investigation, and persecution and torture spread throughout much of western Cuba in 1844. Cuban whites were horrified at the idea of such a wide-ranging conspiracy and before the investigation ended, “thousands of people of color, free and slave, had been executed, banished, or imprisoned, or had simply disappeared.”

Captain General Leopoldo O’Donnell launched a brutal campaign to eliminate the conspiracy. More than four thousand individuals were arrested. The most famous of those sentenced to death was the accused mastermind Gabriel de la Concepción Valdés, alias Plácido, a free Mulato, and one of Cuba’s most renowned poets. Free people of color constituted almost half of all those sentenced to death.

Questions were designed to select the most dramatic and violent episodes of the movement. Military officials framed their questions in terms of who killed, who set fire to buildings, who had weapons (such as machetes), who released people from shackles, who assaulted white employees/employers, who led rebels, and how the witnesses positioned themselves within such events.

Spanish colonial authorities in Cuba manipulated hundreds of free people of color into voluntary exile, prohibited all free blacks from disembarking in local ports, and banned native-born men and women of color from certain areas of employment. They also got rid of militias of free people of color. New measures were introduced that were meant to regulate movements of free people of color. Additionally, new policies promoting “white immigration” (which included Chinese coolies and forced Mayan laborers from the Yucatán) aimed to minimize free people of color's presence on the island.

Carlota became so enshrined in popular memory that Cuba launched its 1975 attack in support of the Angolan liberation movement under the title “Operation Carlota.”

Regardless of the debate over the truth and nature of the rebellion, Cubans took it seriously. Such times had a large impact on Cuban society, and social order remained of large importance to prevent future conflict.

Previously, the female patrons of the Casa de Beneficencia were destined to have a maternity function; they were to be the future mothers of the white Cubans, as is seen by the numerous of young girls in the Casa. Yet, money was in short supply and the status of the inmates of the Casa was in decline. By the 1840s, the placement of orphans in the Casa combined with a growing fear of Africanization made the origins of these girls doubtful. Moreover, La Escalera brought tremendous fear in the Cuban population regarding the place of free people of color. Consequently, the 1847 regulations governing the Casa allowed for the admittance of boys and girls of color. While such had previously occurred on a limited basis, it had never before been codified in regulations. The Casa de Beneficencia served as a center of social control in Cuba. It also provided aid to those in need, but its continuing existence does not support the need of the philanthropy of the state, but rather its ability to manage all its resources in order to maintain the hierarchy that a plantation society required.

Other Sources and Mentions

Numerous studies have dealt with this incident in Cuban history, including Robert L. Paquette’s Sugar Is Made with Blood, Pedro Deschamps Chapeaux’s El negro en la Economía habanera del siglo XIX, and Aisha Finch’s Rethinking Slave Rebellion in Cuba.

There are also some contemporary works that testify to the danger Cubans associated with slavery and its expansion in Cuba. The Cuban novelist Gertrudis Gómez de Avellaneda wrote of her father’s desire to return to Spain and settle in Seville, pointing out that “this plan was most definite and uppermost in his mind during the last months of his life [1823]. He complained of not being laid to rest in his native soil [Spain] and, predicting that Cuba would suffer the same fate as that of a neighboring island, seized by the blacks, begged my mother to come to Spain with their children." Cirilo Villaverde, in his famous novel of the Cuban mulata, Cecilia Valdés, wrote a of slave conspiracy in the making. He noted the continued use of the term “Worse than Aponte!” and alluded on multiple occasions to La Escalera.

The novel Sab is perhaps best known for its antislavery character. Gómez de Avellaneda, a Cuban woman living in Spain, completed the novel in 1841, though it did not arrive in Cuba until 1844. 1844 marked a time of great fear over the conspiracy of La Escalera that terrified white Cubans. Thus, the Royal Censor banned the publication of Sab in Cuba because it contained “doctrines subversive to the system of slavery in this island and contrary to morals and good habits.”

See also

• Timeline of Cuban history
• History of Cuba
• Spanish colonization of the Americas
• David Turnbull (British abolitionist)
• Carlota (rebel leader)

Further reading

• Paquette's Sugar is Made With Blood is a standard account. See his introduction, "La Escalera and the Historians," for an overview of the historiographical debate.