Colonial Carpenters: Construction, Race, and Agency in the Viceroyalty of Peru during the 16th and 17th Centuries

Abstract

This article examines colonial documents to shed light on the presence of non-white carpenters in the carpentry trade during the first two centuries of Spanish colonial rule in Peru. It first offers a general definition of carpentry work during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and then explores the specific environments in which Indigenous, black, and mixed-race carpenters carried out their activities. Through this analysis, it becomes evident that the agency of non-white individuals and groups in the carpentry trade was shaped by the diverse labor systems that predominated in colonial society.

1. Introduction: Race and Carpentry in the Viceroyalty of Peru

In 1631, Father Buenaventura de Salinas y Córdova, speaking of the carpenters of Lima, wrote, “And it is worth noting that the masters here [los maestros de acá] are ahead of those of Europe in this genius […] the [Spanish] carpenter who makes frames does not make doors or windows, but here in Peru, the masters are general, and the forms and ideas are universal” (Salinas y Córdova 1631, p. 129)1. This comment offers a unique perspective since it establishes the idea, based on a comparison, that Peruvian carpenters possess a broader set of skills than their Spanish equivalents. Spanish carpenters would only create specific objects, which Father Buenaventura considered a limiting practice in carpentry. Although this is merely a commentary, an opinion, it presents a complex scenario of this trade in Lima during the third decade of the seventeenth century, particularly when considering the identity of these carpenters. Who were these “masters here [emphasis mine]”? Father Buenaventura could be referring to masters trained in Lima or to the natives of the city. Alternatively, he might have had in mind the ethnic or racial origin of the carpenters. The text does not shed light on these questions. However, it prompts us to consider the question of race in relation to the carpenters and their technical skills. Furthermore, highly skilled carpentry was fundamental in the built landscapes of other significant cities of the viceroyalty, such as Quito, Cuzco, Bogotá, La Plata, or Potosí, and the same reflections can be extended there.

This starting point reveals the necessity of exploring the racial component present in trades during the early modern period and, above all, identifying the characteristics of carpentry in the territories that were part of the extensive Viceroyalty of Peru during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries2. The specific connection between carpentry and race has not been comprehensively studied by specialized historiography because this topic has been approached by both social historians and historians of art and architecture. This divergent perspective has emphasized aspects related to the history of labor and craftsmanship on one hand, and the technical and material aspects of their production on the other. The initial wave of scholars dedicated to the study of carpenters and race primarily focused on material production, seeking to identify authorship and stylistic connections among the constructions from the Andean colonial period.

These scholarly works can primarily be grouped under what is known as Diccionario de artifices (Dictionary of artisans),3 which are characterized not by constructing the biography of the artisans but by providing the essential data for understanding their work and the impact their expertise has left behind (Vargas Ugarte 1947, p. 6). Thus, the entries in these dictionaries are structured around providing their name, race or ethnicity, place of origin, material production, and dates. The authors of these dictionaries were the two renowned Peruvian scholars of the 20th century, Emilio Harth-Terré (1945) and Rubén Vargas Ugarte (1947, 1955). While both books provide factual data on the artisans involved in the artistic and architectural works produced during the colonial period, it is Emilio Harth-Terré’s work that delves into theoretical depth, highlighting the intersection between craftsmanship and race. Starting in the 1960s, he focused directly on the racial aspects of craftsmanship (Harth-Terré 1960, 1973; Harth-Terré and Márquez Abanto 1962a, 1962b). These works are commendable for laying the groundwork for discussion and establishing key axes to study the connection between craftsmanship and race. From this historiographic foundation, the analytical origins of carpentry and its racial component can be traced. In this regard, Harth-Terré identifies common aspects where the presence of Spanish, African or of African descent, Indigenous, and mixed-race carpenters can be observed, such as apprenticeship, examination letters, work contracts, auctions and bids, ownership of enslaved individuals, wages for master carpenters, skilled carpenters (oficiales) and daily workers, property acquisition, execution of works, and production of technical knowledge. However, Harth-Terré’s work does not critically examine the role of race in the practice of craftsmanship in Lima, nor does it identify the potential spaces where the agency of these individuals, whether white or not, might have contributed to shaping the local construction culture4.

In addition to Emilio Harth-Terré, the historiography that has addressed craftsmanship has questioned the corporate functioning of the guilds and the normative system that governs them. In this regard, Richard Konetzke and Francisco Quiroz make significant contributions by pointing out that the craft guilds in the viceregal Peruvian world were characterized by distancing themselves from the medieval guild tradition, aligning themselves instead with aspects of the system that began to be imposed during early modernity (Konetzke 1947; Quiroz 1995, 2008)5. This involved the commodification of their production and the protection of members’ privileges through the actions of each guild chapter or cabildo. While these studies focus on the normative situation (Konetzke) and the guild specifically (Quiroz), they provide a comprehensive framework for understanding the norms and corporate practices of carpenters during the colonial period.

Furthermore, within this same historiographic discussion, Jesús Paniagua proposes that the American colonial guild system can be characterized as a “para-guild” system, operating outside of Hispanic corporate norms. This means that there are guild-like practices but not a fully functioning guild system. Paniagua analyzes the case of the city of Cuenca in colonial Ecuador, demonstrating that several trades there lacked a stable corporate organization (Paniagua and Truhan 2003, pp. 93–99). However, on certain occasions, such as when responding to the demands of the town council or when certain privileges are challenged, the trade unifies and takes collective defense actions (Mamani-Fuentes 2022a, p. 45).

The normative and cooperative practices of carpenters have been analyzed by historiography in a general manner. However, there has been limited exploration of whether there are specific elements unique to certain trades or commonalities among different trades, particularly within the building world, such as regarding masonry or stonework. Their production cannot always be categorized solely within the context of commoditization of their manufacturing, unlike some other trades. For instance, the construction of wooden structures in architecture was not a regular source of income for carpenters, as it involved monumental tasks that were not performed frequently (San Cristóbal 1997, pp. 158–59)6.

Furthermore, it is crucial to consider the distinctions between cities within the Viceroyalty of Peru when examining the regulations and corporate practices of colonial carpenters. While our understanding of carpenters’ activities in Lima is quite comprehensive, this situation does not necessarily apply to other regions of the Viceroyalty7. Research conducted by Susan V. Webster for Quito and Angelica Chica for Nueva Granada has revealed that the guild systems there also operated within a para-guild system (Webster 2009; Chica 2015). Moreover, the agency of non-white carpenters, including Indigenous and African or African-descended peoples (whether free or not), played a decisive role in shaping a local construction culture with a hybrid Hispanic–Andean character.

It is at the intersection of social and labor history and of the formal analysis of the construction work of carpenters that race begins to raise new questions, particularly regarding the agency of these individuals in the history of architecture and construction. The contributions of Cheng et al. (2020), as well as Kathleen James-Chakraborty (2022), bring into the discussion the role that non-white populations played in the architectural concepts that emerged in the Atlantic regions since the Enlightenment. Similarly, in the context of the early modern Iberian world, Jesús Escobar (2021) and Laura Fernández-González (2021) have posed similar inquiries, shedding light on the interconnectedness of race and architecture to comprehend the architectural landscape of the territories that were under the Spanish and Portuguese Crowns during the colonial centuries (15th–19th centuries).

It is intriguing that this agency, considered within a spatial, technical, and material conception of architecture, necessarily involves the cognitive aspect inherent in the carpenter’s craftsmanship (Epstein 1998; Smith 2018). New studies emphasize that the intersection of race with the act of construction becomes evident through the consciousness or constructive agency manifested in the choice of materials, practices, and belief systems underlying the constructed works (Escobar 2021, p. 269). Additionally, the production of construction knowledge is not limited to the realization of architectural objectives but also encompasses the conceptualization of a lexicon that describes the craft’s practice. While the use of specialized terminology is inherent to any trade, it was not until the 16th century that this language was standardized through the written documentation of carpentry practices, initially in the Iberian kingdoms and later in the American territories. As a result, specific regulatory bodies governing the practice of carpentry emerged (Mamani-Fuentes 2023), and there was a progressive increase in the production of notarial documentation for carpentry contracts—at least in the Indies—and treatises were written to preserve the specific technical knowledge of Hispanic carpentry8.

Within the realm of technical knowledge production and its manifestation in architectural and artistic objects, the fields of art history and architectural history have made significant disciplinary contributions to the study of carpentry. However, these historiographies, which primarily focused on the formal aspects of carpentry, have often been detached from the discussions carried out by social historians. When it comes to the Viceroyalty of Peru, the association between carpentry and its architectural applications has been examined through the lens of the Mudéjar style. Following the Spanish historiographic tradition, the analysis of carpentry and carpenters has primarily revolved around the aesthetic particularities of Spanish carpentry, such as the wood strapwork found on the ceilings (López Guzmán 2012) (Figure 1).

Since the 1940s, a lineage of researchers has examined the manifestations of Mudéjar carpentry in the Viceroyalty of Peru (Mamani-Fuentes 2022b)9. There were also discussions on the identity of the artisans behind these wooden structures. For a considerable period, the prevailing notion was that they were crafted by individuals of Muslim ancestry, or the descendants of so-called mudéjars, that is, Muslim persons living in Christian-owned and administrated territories in Medieval Spain, who migrated to America from the southern regions of the Iberian Peninsula during the 16th century10. This ethno-religious perspective on the technical origins of carpentry became a historiographic cliché originating with the term mudéjar coined by Spanish scholar José Amador de los Ríos in 1859, leading to an ongoing and intense debate among specialists (De los Ríos 1859; Ruiz Souza 2009). However, despite the presence of this ethnic-religious discourse in the early debates on the colonial context, Manuel Toussaint asserts that Mudejars or Moriscos were a minority in Spanish America due to restrictions on their movement imposed by the royal decree of 1543 (Toussaint 1946, pp. 9–10)11. Those who did manage to travel to the Indies, either before or after the decree, had to conceal their identity to avoid detection by the Crown.

Karoline Cook and Stuart B. Schwartz propose that the arrival of enslaved North African individuals to the Americas as apprentices in the trade could partly explain the transfer of technical knowledge, based on their experiences in their places of origin and potential interactions in the Iberian Peninsula. However, conclusive evidence to trace the continuity of a North African or Hispanic construction culture brought forth by these individuals is lacking (Cook 2016, pp. 51–52; Schwartz 2020, p. 530). Moreover, the learning and practice of carpentry were shared by both Christians and Muslims, as evidenced by attempts to regulate the profession in the 16th century, such as the rule that prohibited New Christians from opening workshops in Seville12 or the equitable election of leaders within the carpenters’ guild in Granada, representing both ethnic-religious groups. While it is likely that Moriscos played a role in transferring the technical knowledge of carpentry in the Peruvian viceroyalty, their quantitative presence contrasts with the significant number of Spanish (Christian) carpenters who signed work contracts during the early colonial period (until around 1650). As will be demonstrated, although the Spanish presence is notable in carpentry works, the influence of non-European individuals was also substantial.

The question of the origins of Hispanic carpentry associated with ethno-religious aspects is also linked to historiography’s interest in maintaining the idea of a single author who is intellectually responsible for the work. This common notion in the fields of art history and architectural history has obscured the contributions of skilled non-white carpenters who practiced their trade in coercive work environments, such as slavery, mita (system of fulfilling dues through forced labor), or yanaconaje (a type of Indigenous servant), or in setting that, despite appearing free, were restricted by the actions of Spanish carpenters. When we shift our focus to these groups of carpenters or the labor force, the concept of single authorship undergoes a transformation, as it incorporates new actors into the practice of carpentry. This highlights the interconnectedness between race and carpentry, necessitating a thorough examination and renewed attention to this relationship.

2. The Carpenter: A Definition

As mentioned in the first part of this article, Father Buenaventura de Salinas y Córdova described the carpenters practicing in Lima around 1631 as skilled craftsmen with a broad range of technical abilities: “the masters are general and the forms and ideas are universal” (Salinas y Córdova 1631, p. 129). Defining the dimension of technical knowledge associated with carpentry is crucial since the understanding of a carpenter in present times may not precisely align with the profession’s perception during the colonial centuries. These technical skills not only allow us to grasp the significance of carpentry in architecture, construction, and the arts, but also shed light on their role within the colonial society of the Viceroyalty of Peru.

Defining the role of a carpenter in a society without architects—at least until the 17th century—reveals a realm where their technical skills were in demand for various large-scale projects, including the construction of timber frames, ceilings, and houses, as well as small-scale ones, such as the creation of artistic and consumer goods. This diversity in the material production of colonial carpenters led to specialized areas that were tailored to the needs of clients or customers (Mamani-Fuentes 2022a, pp. 68–72).

On the other hand, from a social perspective, carpentry occupied a place among the mechanical trades, which, during the 17th century, were distinguished from the liberal arts, such as architecture. This distinction resulted in a decline in importance and reduced involvement in urban construction projects (Paniagua 2010, p. 25; García Morales 1991, p. 237). Additionally, Paniagua has attributed the gradual devaluation of carpentry to its association with social groups facing marginalization and poverty, notably non-white populations (Paniagua 2010, pp. 146–50). Consequently, an intriguing analytical connection emerges between carpentry’s association with non-white populations and their growing specialization in it, shedding light on the agency of non-Spanish carpenters.

The documentation produced during the first two centuries of Spanish rule in the Andes provides valuable insights into the practices of colonial carpenters, enabling us to delineate their technical knowledge and various levels of specialization during this period. For example, the carpentry ordinances serve as essential references for comprehending both the regulations governing carpenters and their trade practices. In the Hispanic world, the system of ordinances was established during the reign of the Catholic Monarchs Isabella I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon. This led to the creation of a regulatory compilation that was ultimately published under Charles V in 1527, known as the Ordinances of Seville. These ordinances encompassed various trades, including carpentry, within an urban regulatory framework that significantly influenced how the carpentry trade was organized in the Viceroyalty of Peru. As I have argued elsewhere, the carpentry ordinances of Lima (1575)13—the only ones discovered thus far for the Viceroyalty of Peru—were modeled after the Seville ordinances, displaying a remarkably high degree of similarity (Mamani-Fuentes 2023)14.

Although the carpentry ordinances of Lima replicate the degrees of specialization or types of carpenters that existed in Seville during the 16th century, the regulations do provide information regarding the examination of technical competencies necessary for carpenters to attain the rank of journeyman (oficial) or master. It is important to note that ordinances represent a system of rules that are not always strictly adhered to, and they may not entirely reflect the reality of carpentry practice, particularly in the case of the Lima ordinance, which closely resembles the Seville ordinance15. Nonetheless, they serve as a valuable reference for understanding the general frameworks within which the carpentry trade was organized and practiced16.

The Lima ordinances distinguish carpenters into two types: Those who practiced their trade in the workshop (taller) and those who carried out their trade outside the workshop, mainly associated with construction tasks (obras de afuera) (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f.214v, 1595 [1575]). Workshop carpenters or tenderos possess skills such as what we now know as cabinetmakers, specializing in the production of boxes or furniture (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f.215r, 1595 [1575]).

For carpenters engaged in activities outside the workshop, the ordinances establish a hierarchical system of specialization. At the highest rank are the geometric carpenters (Geométrico), experts in construction matters, particularly in the creation of wooden ceilings and domes (Figure 2), as well as in the wooden strapwork (lacería or lazo). Additionally, these carpenters were required to be skilled in manufacturing engineering works, including bridges, wheels for a coining press (Ingenio Real), cranes, and military engineering works, such as a siege tower or a gun carriage (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f.214v, 1595 [1575]).

Below the geometric carpenters are the lacero carpenters, specializing in constructing wooden timber frames and wooden strapwork (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f.214v, 1595 [1575]). The ordinances further mention two types of specialized carpenters: The carpenters who must build a wooden timber frame with limas moamares17 (Figure 3) and have expertise in decoration (level 1), and the carpenters who must be capable of building wooden timber frames and stair doors (level 2) (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, ff. 215v–215r, 1595 [1575]).

Although the ordinances outline this hierarchical system, thus far, explicit contracts referring to these grades in the technical skills hierarchy of colonial carpenters have not been found. In most cases, even contracts involving architectural works simply refer to carpenters as “master carpenter” (Mamani-Fuentes 2022a, p. 59). It is possible that this hierarchical system existed solely within the guild; however, to date, no examination records have been found from the 16th and 17th centuries to substantiate this hypothesis.

Historiography has referred to this extensive group of carpenters—both workshop and construction carpenters—as carpinteros de lo blanco based on the title of the treatise on carpentry written by Diego López de Arenas in Seville (López de Arenas 1633), which compiles technical knowledge related to wooden timber frames and strapworks (Figure 4)18. The meaning of the term lo blanco (the white) has generated some uncertainty19. One reference is found in the 1780 edition of the Dictionary of the Spanish Language, where it indicates that the carpintero de lo blanco is the same as a carpenter and defines him as “one who works and carves pine wood” (Diccionario de la lengua castellana 1780, p. 199). While some references suggest the term pertains to pine woodwork or to sapwood exposed when stripped of its bark (Nuere 2012, p. 12), documentation from the area of Castile (Ordenanzas de carpintería de Toledo [1551] 1858, p. 74)), links lo blanco to lo labrado, implying well-finished work as opposed to lo prieto or coarse work (García Nistal 2021, p. 605). Nevertheless, in the context of the Viceroyalty of Peru, carpenters themselves used the term. For instance, Juan Luis Mejía and Francisco López declared themselves carpinteros de lo blanco when they signed a contract with Inés Ortiz in 1626 for the construction of wooden timber frames, balconies, doors, and windows for her house in Lima (AGN/PE [General Archive of the Nation, Peru], PN [Notarial Protocol], 183, f.62r). Similarly, Miguel Bernabé, carpintero de lo blanco and native of Cusco, signed a contract with the carpenter and sculptor Martín de Oviedo to undergo training in Potosí in 1614 (AH-POT [Potosi Historical Archive], EN [Notarial Deed].47, ff. 2220–2220v).

The carpentry ordinances continued with the carpenters of lo prieto (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f.215r, 1595 [1575]). These carpenters possessed skills associated with the construction of docks, water mills, wheels, carts, waterwheels, and other hydraulic engineering works, among other objects. The ordinances then mention musical instrument makers or vigoleros (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f.215v, 1595 [1575]), who were proficient in crafting claviorgans, harpsichords, monochords, lutes, and various types of vihuelas. Finally, the ordinance refers to entalladores and ensambladores (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, ff. 215v–216r, 1595 [1575]) who were required to be skilled draftsmen to construct altarpieces, tabernacles, and choir stalls20. Their technical knowledge of architectural perspective placed them in an intermediate position between the mechanical trades and the liberal trades, bringing them closer to the world of the Italian Renaissance architectural treatise.

Construction contracts (conciertos de obra) are another set of documents that allow us to identify different types of carpenters and their technical skills. These contracts serve as direct historical sources that reveal the diversity of carpentry practice in colonial architecture, which may extend beyond what is presented in the 1575 carpentry ordinances of Lima. One type of contract exclusively refers to the construction of wooden timber frames and wooden ceilings. For instance, on 23 August 1602, the master carpenter Alonso Velázquez signed a contract with the nuns of the Monastery of Nuestra Señora de La Limpia Concepción de Lima to rebuild their church, covering it with a wooden timber frame adorned with strapwork and coffers (AGN/PE, PN, 786, ff.4703r–4712r). However, in other construction contracts, carpenters were not only tasked with building the wooden timber frame but also other wooden objects. In a contract signed by Diego de Carvajal and Martín de Oviedo, master carpenters working with the Convent of San Francisco in La Plata (present-day Sucre in Bolivia) on 12 December 1618, they committed to constructing a wooden timber frame and working on the altarpiece located in the main chapel of the church (BO ABNB [National Archive and Library of Bolivia], EP [Notarial Deed]. 136, 58r–63r). In Tunja (present-day Colombia), during the placing of bids for the construction of the wooden timber frame for the main church of the city in 1567, the carpenter Francisco Abril stated that the awarded contractor must first construct the wooden timber frames of the main chapel, main nave, and side naves, and must also fabricate the centering for the main arch, doors, windows, chancel grille, and stairs. Additionally, the carpenter must collaborate with all masonry work required for the project (AGN/COL [General Archive of the Nation, Colombia], Colonia, Fábrica-Iglesias, SC.26.2.D.1, ff.356r–369v).

Moreover, the letters of payment received by carpenters at the end of their work provide information about the range of tasks a carpenter could perform. For instance, on 2 November 1627, Bartolomé Calderón, a master carpenter, received a letter of payment for the work he completed in three rooms of the Hospital Santa Ana in Lima. The document indicates that he supervised the construction of wooden timber frames and manufactured numerous objects, including grilles, doors, windows, pantries, cupboards, chairs, and sawed wooden pieces used in the work (AGN/PE, PN, 1723, ff. 2393r–2394v).

This diversity of construction skills is also evident in the construction of houses. On 31 July 1593, Francisco Rodríguez de la Cueva, who identified himself as a carpintero de lo blanco, signed a contract with Antonio Ordoñez de Valencia to produce the main doors of his house in Lima (AGN/PE, PN, 144, ff. 217–217v). In this case, a carpintero de lo blanco, typically associated with architectural construction projects, is seen performing workshop tasks as described in the carpentry ordinances of Lima. Additionally, in the construction of houses, there were craftsmen who specialized in both carpentry and masonry tasks. For example, in 1619, Alonso de Ávila undertook the construction of brickwork, wooden roofing, and the making of doors, windows, a wooden jar, and a cupboard for the cell of the daughter of Diego Núñez de Campoverde in the Santa Clara Monastery in Lima. This project was modeled after the work conducted by the carpenter Sebastián Rodríguez for the daughter of Juan de Zárate (AGN/PE, PN, 800, f.22r).

The phenomenon of shared competencies between carpenters and masons is also evident in the construction of churches, particularly in territories such as Boyacá and Cundinamarca, which belonged to the Kingdom of New Granada (present-day Colombia). Due to a lack of construction craftsmen and the demand for construction management, some artisans in this region were required to possess versatile skills. For instance, the contract for the construction of the church of Ráquira on 25 October 1600 required the carpenter Cristóbal de Aranda not only to construct wooden timber frames but also to handle masonry tasks, such as building walls, shaping the presbytery, the nave, and the sacristy, making windows, whitewashing walls, and installing roof tiles (AGN/COL, Colonia, Visitas-C/Marca, SC.62.5.D.43, ff.815r–819r). A similar example can be seen in the work of the mason Francisco de Ibarra, who constructed a wooden timber frame in the chapel of Santa Cruz de Jerusalén in the Convent of Nuestra Señora de la Encarnación in Lima on 4 June 1648 (AGN/PE, PN, 1256, ff. 245r–246v). Although this may be seen as a diversification of trades by some craftsmen, in the unpublished treatise by Fray Andrés de San Miguel (Mexico, ca. 1630)21, he notes that carpenters must have skills in masonry, including stonework: ‘The knowledgeable carpenter must understand with all perfection the plan, profile, and roof, along with all the masonry skills. In this, every art of building is enclosed, and he is obliged to know how to be the perfect mason and stonemason […]’ (Báez 1969, p. 105).

The breadth of carpenters’ competencies sometimes warranted the title of Alarife, a position responsible for overseeing construction works throughout the city. While this position was typically held by a mason in Lima, one carpenter, Pedro de Céspedes, occupied the position between 1664 and 1670 (San Cristóbal 1993, p. 136). In Nueva Granada, there were cases of carpenters holding the position, such as Alexandro Mesurado in 1630 (AGN/COL, Colonia, Fabrica-Iglesias, SC.26.4.D.8, f.769r) and Bartolomé Horozco in 1644 (AGN/COL, Colonia, Fabrica-Iglesias, SC.26.2.D.6, f.669v). This role of an alarife had a public function, and though not paid by the town council (cabildo), it bestowed preeminence among other construction masters, highlighting the recognition of their professional skills. The regulations for the alarifes’ competencies were initially established by the viceroys of Peru, Andrés Hurtado de Mendoza in 1557 and Martín Enríquez de Almanza in 1581 (Solano 1996, pp. 247–48). These regulations covered the general direction of city construction works, control of building demolitions to prevent unjustified property growth, management of irrigation pits and water sources, and supervision of window installations to avoid interference with neighbors’ homes.

3. Agency and Race: Limits in the Practice of Carpentry

Although it is not possible to identify a complete functioning of the carpenters’ guild in most of the significant urban centers of the Viceroyalty of Peru, in Lima, a series of actions emerged to regulate the practice of carpentry, leading to wood craftsmen from non-privileged groups of colonial society being banned from the practice of carpentry. Consequently, at least in Lima during the 16th century, protectionist measures quickly took hold, seeking to limit carpentry to Spaniards and their descendants, as was happening in other trades and across American cities of the Spanish Crown (Nieto 2018, pp. 176–79).

Despite the arrival of many Spanish carpenters to oversee the city’s construction (Lockhart [1968] 1994, pp. 109–10), their numbers were insufficient to meet Lima’s rapid urban growth and the needs of its inhabitants. This led Indigenous persons, Africans, and the first generations of people of mixed race to engage in carpentry and open workshops in the city. The proliferation of these workshops had a significant impact on carpentry practice, resulting in numerous workshops scattered throughout the city. The town council, during its meeting on 21 August 1561, acknowledged that ‘the streets of this city are highly occupied by the carpenters’ trades, and they have them so occupied that one cannot walk freely in them’ (Lee 1935b, p. 454), hindering the circulation of carriages and pedestrians. As a response, it was mandated that carpenters could only occupy a space 3 feet from their workshop door (approximately 0.8 m according to the Burgos foot).

Many of these workshops were run by African masters, which caused tensions with Spanish carpenters. In 1555, Juan de Grajales, Hernando Moreno, and other carpenters formally complained to the city council, specifically asking that Africans should no longer be permitted to work as carpenters or open workshops. The Spaniards claimed that over 20 carpenters with families were unemployed, and they asserted that ‘the blacks do not know how to use the trade and damage the works’ (Lee 1935a, p. 266). The city council ruled in favor of the Spaniards, decreeing that no African, whether enslaved or free, could work as an independent carpenter or own a workshop unless they had undergone an examination and presented the city council with an attestation, which was subject to a fee. Non-compliance with this order resulted in severe punishment: if the craftsman was a slave, they were to receive 100 lashes and pay 50 pesos, and if they were a freed African, they were to pay 50 pesos and be banished from the kingdom (Lee 1935a, p. 266).

Despite the efforts of the town council and Spanish carpenters to restrict carpentry practice among non-white populations, this situation persisted until 1575 when Viceroy Francisco Álvarez de Toledo promoted the drafting and publication of the ordinances of carpentry in Lima. At the beginning of the ordinances, the viceroy explained the need for regulation: ‘Considering the disorder that exists in the carpentry trade, and that many Spaniards, mestizos, blacks, and mulattoes with little knowledge of the trade want to establish workshops and undertake many projects that they do not know or understand, resulting in significant damage to the projects and the ornament of this republic’ (AAL, 1541–1927, no. 49, COF-27, 1512–1613, f. 210v, 1595 [1575]). The viceroy reviewed the complaints made by Spanish carpenters over several years, particularly regarding the lack of competence among African carpenters and those of mixed-race populations. However, this corporate defense by Spanish carpenters came too late, as the establishment of workshops throughout the city had already fostered competition in terms of prices and the quality of production (Mamani-Fuentes 2022a, p. 45).

Alongside the guild, the cofradia (brotherhood) of San José in Lima also served as a protective space for the privileges of Spanish carpenters. It acted as both a socialization platform and a colonial institution and was closely related to the guild. The division between the two entities is complex, making it unclear where the brotherhood ends, and the guild begins. Both organizations were integral to craftsmen seeking full membership in the guild (Navarro 2017, p. 40). Consequently, many Spanish carpenters, particularly in the early stage of the guild (16th century, the time of its foundation), utilized membership in the brotherhood to safeguard their interests (Bowser 1974, p. 142). Francisco Quiroz points out that it was the wealthiest Spanish masters who obtained exclusive positions of responsibility in both the brotherhood and the guild, further consolidating the brotherhood–guild relationship (Quiroz 1995, pp. 55–56).

However, attempts to prevent the unregulated practice of carpentry were unsuccessful. As soon as the Spaniards settled in the Andean region, they utilized the Indigenous population as manpower for construction work (AGI [General Archive of the Indies, Spain], QUITO, 211, L.1. f. 140, 1567). To this end, the mita system of fulfilling dues through forced labor was transformed into a means of obtaining Indigenous people to work, among other tasks, on the construction of churches and public buildings (Ciriza-Mendívil 2019). For instance, in 1557, carpenter Anton González undertook carpentry work requested by Luis Martínez on his property in the Tarapacá Valley (present-day Chile). As part of the arrangement, the client provided 20 Indigenous peoples for the mita, along with four Indigenous carpenters (AGN/PE, PN. 32, 1r–1v). Yanaconas also contributed labor to construction sites, as Laura Escobari notes for Potosí at the end of the 16th century. In fact, the 1575 census reveals that 20% of yanaconas were involved in mechanical work, including carpentry (Escobari 2001, pp. 200–3)22.

Another important census from that period is the Padrón de Indios ordered by Viceroy Juan Mendoza y Luna, Marquis de Montesclaros, in 1613 (Cook 1968). In this census of Lima’s indigenous inhabitants, five carpenters were recorded: Juan Martínez, originally from Lima; Clemente Quispenan, originally from Atún Jauja in Cajamarca; Juan de Salinas, originally from Lima; Francisco Taviri, originally from Juan de Bisma in Omas; and Anton Quispe, originally from La Concepción in the Jauja valley. These men were between 17 and 40 years old and worked as skilled carpenters, suggesting that they had been examined. However, it remains unclear whether they had indeed passed an examination or whether there was some kind of guild exclusively reserved for Indigenous people in Lima. In Cuzco, during the early 17th century, the cofradía of San José was exclusively reserved for Indigenous peoples and was headquartered in the cathedral (Gutiérrez 1979, p. 3). This form of organization was not considered in Lima’s carpentry ordinances, as there is no indication or restriction regarding the practice of the trade by the Indigenous population. This silence is noteworthy, especially considering that similar provisions exist in the ordinances for other trades (Quiroz 1995, pp. 69–70).

In Quito, the presence of Indigenous master carpenters is thoroughly demonstrated by Susan V. Webster, based on her research into the records of the Quito City Council in cartas de aprendizaje (Apprenticeship constracts) and other types of notarial information. From the city’s founding by the Spanish until 1690, the absence of a controlling guild allowed Indigenous carpenters to gain significant expertise, leading many of the city’s construction projects. Notable examples include José de la Cruz and his son Francisco Morocho, who worked on the San Francisco church for over 20 years (Webster 2009, p. 16) (Figure 5). Master Martin Taguada, also of Indigenous origin, independently designed and directed a team of Indigenous workers to build the wooden timber frame of the San Roque church in 1613 (Webster 2009, p. 16). In 1659, another Indigenous carpenter named Marcos Tituaña signed a contract with Francisco Muñoz de Eslaba, steward of the Nuestra Señora de los Ángeles brotherhood, to oversee all carpentry work for his chapel in the church of La Caridad Hospital in Quito (Webster 2012, p. 28). Indigenous master carpenters were not limited to Quito; they also circulated within the Audiencia de Quito due to their construction skills. For instance, in 1638, two carpenters, Francisco and Agustín Cobacango, residents of Quito, signed a contract to travel to Pintag and design and build the wooden timber frame of the village’s church (Webster 2012, p. 29).

Furthermore, the repartimiento system provided Spanish towns with Indigenous labor, including specialized carpenters, for the construction and maintenance of buildings and public works. For instance, in a repartimiento in the jurisdiction of Riobamba (now Ecuador), the Yndios carpinteros de Quero (Indigenous carpenters of Quero), as they were known, brought a lawsuit before the Audiencia de Quito in 1665, seeking exemption from the mita based on the royal provision of 27 May 1662. This provision granted them the right ‘not to be included in the census of the fifth or any other mandatory service of the royal houses’23. Testimonies from the trial mentioned that ‘Don Lazaro Mollocana says that since time immemorial they have been in possession of not being included in the mita due to their profession as carpenters, as they use their skills for the ornamentation and work of the churches and royal houses, from which they pay their tributes and sustain themselves. And they are protected by ancient and modern provisions of the Royal Audience of Quito, endorsed by the viceroys, the Counts of Salvatierra and Alba’24. Similarly, Webster mentions that within the encomienda of Hernando de Fuenmayor, there was a community of indios tomaycos carpinteros (Indigenous carpenters), led by cacique Juan Tomayco; the Indigenous carpenters asked the Quito city council to respect the rights and concessions granted them by the king (Webster 2012, p. 29).

Indigenous carpenters adopted surnames after the Spanish conquest that often indicated their places of origin, demonstrating their circulation in colonial space. For instance, surnames like Rimache, Cayllagua, and Páucar, associated with carpentry and sculpture, have Quechua origins, indicating their connection to the central Andes. Other surnames, such as Tomayco—the carpenters of Hernando de Fuenmayor’s encomienda mentioned above—belonged to a professional ethnic group of woodworkers transplanted from the Huánuco region of Peru. Regional toponyms that gave rise to surnames like Cañar, Amaguaña, and Collaguaso also appear in the list of carpenters and stonemasons (Webster 2012, pp. 263–68)25. These phenomena demonstrate the continuous involvement of craftsmen from Indigenous communities in the construction of buildings during the 16th and 17th centuries.

In the curato de Marapa, jurisdiction of San Miguel de Tucumán (Charcas, now Argentina), the local Indigenous community was exclusively dedicated to woodworking. In 1685, Verdugo Garnica, the curator of Marapa, noted that the inhabitants of this territory were ‘good carpenters, because the boys are barely ten or twelve years old when they already know how to wield the adze, saw, and axe before they can pray” (Noli 2001, p. 19). The trade not only contributed to the construction of their ethnic identity or race but also to their personal identification, such as when Diego de Valdez recounts an encounter with a man whom he identifies as Gaspar el carpintero (Gaspar the carpenter). Some of these individuals even earned the title of master, like the Indigenous Pablo from the Diego de Ceballos Morales encomienda (Noli 2001, p. 19). Historian Estela Noli points out that this community of carpenters, heir to the specialized ayllus of the Inca period, was not only characterized by its production in the construction field but also by its ability to meet market demands, such as the manufacture of carts or the sale of timber (Noli 2001, p. 23).

In the case of the Kingdom of New Granada, there was no population specifically dedicated to the woodworking trade. However, Viceroy Toledo’s provisions encouraged the technical training of Indigenous peoples, who were then recognized as craftsmen. They transitioned from being unskilled laborers to craftsmen, though they were always subordinate to a Spanish master builder. For instance, in 1601, the oidor Luis Henríquez indicated that the Indigenous population from the villages of Sutatausa, Cucunubá, Bobatá, Susa, Fuquene, and Siminxaca were to engage in the construction of churches, using various necessary trades: ‘The Indians attached to each of the towns will take charge, if necessary, of the work and construction of their churches and will serve as laborers, tile makers, lime plasterers, carpenters, and in bringing earth, stone, wood, and other necessary materials and supplies’ (AGN/COL, Colonia, Visitas-C/Marca: SC. 62,13, D.5, f. 866v).

In Cuzco, Jorge Cornejo Bouroncle, working in the city archives, published a detailed list of craftsmen in 1960. Although Indigenous carpenters appeared to be few, they played a significant decision-making role in several projects involving wood. For example, the carpenter Lucas Quispe was renowned for his expertise in carpentry, coffered ceilings, and doors, possibly corresponding to those that still survive in the Santo Domingo convent. Francisco Guamán Cusi, a carpenter from the village of Pucyura and yanacona of the Society of Jesus, built Fernando Valdéz y Bazán’s house in Cuzco in 1613. Andrés Simon, originally from Oropesa, oversaw all the wooden works in 1645, and Cristóbal Tito Yupanqui, from the parish of Santiago de Cusco, performed the same task in 1646. Another person from Cusco, Juan Ochagualpa, built a ceiling in the library of the convent of La Merced in Cusco together with the Spanish carpenter Martin de Torres in 1646. The list continues with Damian Cosma, a native of Antabamba, responsible for the wooden works of the convent of San Francisco in 1649, and the carpenter Diego de Inquil, from the parish of San Cristobal of Cusco, who in 1650 did the same work in the Hospital and Church of San Andres of Cusco. Other wooden construction craftsmen, whether linked to carpentry work or not, are also mentioned, such as Pedro Guallpa from the village of Oropesa for a cedar corridor and its doors (Cornejo Bouroncle 1960, pp. 112, 169, 186–87).

The relationship of African populations and those of mixed race to the practice of carpentry has already been mentioned when I referred to the decision of Spanish carpenters in Lima to try to prevent their practice by means of city council decisions and their corporate norms. Even after the promulgation of the ordinances in 1575, the city council reinforced this policy of restriction by ordering that “No mulatto, black horro, or captive can have a workshop, except with the express permission of the cabildo” (Lee 1937, p. 102). However, I also explained that in practice, in Lima, African and mixed-race carpenters continued to practice the trade outside the guild. This restrictive policy did not prevent their training in carpentry, as numerous contracts of this type were signed in the 16th and 17th centuries (Mamani-Fuentes 2022a, pp. 50–52).

Some of the enslaved carpenters managed to raise money through their own forced labor for the cost of their own manumission. This circumstance arose from the practice of many owners having their slave carpenters work for third parties. Consequently, in certain instances, these enslaved carpenters received a portion of the wages for their labor. This enabled them to save money and eventually negotiate their emancipation with the owner (Bowser 1974, p. 139; Johnson 1986, p. 241). A particular case is that of Ventura Tiburu in Lima, a carpenter who, to obtain his freedom, signed a contract with master carpenter Juan de Castañeda, in which the former undertook to work for 6 years and thus obtain the 300 pesos for his emancipation (Harth-Terré and Márquez Abanto 1962b, p. 95). On other occasions, freedom was obtained after the master’s death, as in the case of carpenter Diego de Medina, who, in his will signed in Lima in 1652, stipulated that his slaves Domingo Matambo (sawyer), Pedro de Congo (sawyer), Luis de Congo (sawyer), Antón (sawyer), and Manuel (carpenter) should be freed upon his death (AGN/PE, PN, 1289, f.372v).

In the world of carpenters who, at some point in their lives, were enslaved, the case of Luis de Lagama, who lived at the end of the 16th century, is particularly well documented but likely typical. Although he was enslaved for most of his life, being owned by Francisca de Orozco, he was freed thanks to his skills in carpentry and masonry. Before his release, with his master’s authorization, he entered a contract with Captain Juan Vasquez de Acuña for all the carpentry work on his houses. In the contract, it is detailed that Lagama must, in addition to carrying out the work personally, provide the labor as well as purchase all the wood from him. Lagama then built all the frames, doors, and windows, following the model of one of Captain Vásquez de Acuña’s houses (Harth-Terré and Márquez Abanto 1962a, pp. 51–52). In Bogotá, given the need for craftsmen in this place, Francisco Viruéz, an African mixed-race horro ladino carpenter, was hired to work under the direction of carpenter Luis Márquez for the construction of the Bosa church in 1606 (AGN/COL, Colonia, Fábrica-Iglesias: SC.26,5, D.25, f.741r) (Figure 6).

4. Conclusions

As we have seen, being a carpenter during the first two centuries of Hispanic domination in the Andes implied a diversity of technical skills that always correlated with a title or degree of specialization. In this sense, the documentation normally distinguishes the work of a master carpenter or a specialized carpenter, moving away from the hierarchical system of technical skills created in the carpentry ordinances.

Although Lima is the place where the greatest development of the carpentry guild can be seen, differentiating it from the rest of the urban centers of the Viceroyalty of Peru, this city shares a common constructive culture with other cities such as Quito, La Plata, Potosí, or Bogotá, as well as with Seville and other places in the Iberian Peninsula. Differences also do not appear in the agency of the non-white groups that practiced carpentry. Many of these non-Spanish carpenters were not able to gain access to construction management positions, but they resisted the corporate attempts of the Spanish carpenters and the city government. In this way, the agency of these socially marginalized groups allowed the generation of spaces of economic independence, especially in the case of non-white carpenters who managed to establish their own workshops or had a high level of technical skills, being hired by civil and religious clients.

Was it possible that these non-white carpenters were able to transmit their own construction culture, certainly a hybrid, in the construction projects in which they participated? Techniques and materials typical of Indigenous carpentry appear in numerous armatures, implying that the answer is a resounding yes (Mamani-Fuentes 2022a, pp. 100–1). However, more work remains to be conducted on this same question when considering the transfer of construction techniques by African carpenters in the monumental wooden works of the colonial period.