Pottery Vessels in Sixteenth Century Spain

John E. Worth

© UWF Division of Anthropology and Archaeology

As noted in a previous blog post (Dining at the Luna Settlement), the inhabitants of the Luna Settlement made extensive use of pottery for a variety of functions and tasks, ranging from storage and transport to cooking and serving food.  The archaeological record of the site is dominated by fragments of broken pottery, including more than 15 kilograms amounting to nearly 2,800 sherds excavated and analyzed as of the start of the 2019 field school (Worth 2019).  While the assemblage of imported ceramics at the Luna Settlement also includes small percentages of Aztec tradition pottery (just over 4% by count and 2% by weight), the vast majority comprises Spanish tradition pottery vessels, including unglazed, lead-glazed, and tin-enameled types.

Archaeologists normally classify ceramics using typologies that work best for what we call “potsherds” or simply “sherds,” which are simply the fragments (a.k.a. shards) of broken vessels.  For this reason, archaeological ceramic types rely primarily on the paste (incorporating clay, aplastic inclusions, commonly called temper, manufacturing technique, firing temperature, etc.) and the surface treatment (e.g. plain, slipped, painted, incised, punctated, stamped, glazed, etc.) of each sherd, both of which can normally be evaluated without having whole vessels.  In this context, 16^th-century Spanish ceramics at the Luna Settlement can be classified into several basic categories.  A minority of the assemblage (9% by count and 5% by weight) is comprised of various named types of tin-enameled majolica (Columbia Plain, Columbia Plain Green Variant, Santo Domingo Blue on White, Yayal Blue on White, Santa Elena Mottled, Caparra Blue, and Isabela Polychrome) along with many other sherds that are too small to classify confidently beyond generic blue on white, polychrome, and plain categories.  A substantial part of the assemblage (43% by count and 68% by weight) is Spanish olive jar (both lead glazed and unglazed), and the rest comprises other coarse earthenwares (48% by count and 27% by weight), including named types such as Melado, Green Bacín, and Orange Micaceous, and a variety of generic redwares and other coarse earthenwares with or without lead glazes that range from transparent to green in color.  All these archaeological classifications fall nicely within the 16^th-century date range of the Luna expedition, and this terrestrial assemblage corresponds extremely well with the assemblages documented on the three Emanuel Point shipwrecks not far offshore.

Apart from their obvious usefulness in establishing the age and cultural affiliation of the sites where they are found, archaeological ceramics can also provide important insights into the range of activities potentially carried out using them, particularly when they are examined from a functional standpoint.  In this way, pottery can be used as a proxy for the kinds of routine activities and practices that took place at a site, which can then be used as an avenue to understand many other cultural phenomena such as subsistence, social organization, cultural identity, and many others.  One important aspect of determining how ceramics were used at any given archaeological site is to develop an understanding of the range of pottery vessel shapes and sizes in use at the site, including which vessels were present, and in what relative proportions with respect to the rest of the vessel assemblage.  There are of course many other sources of direct and indirect evidence for the actual uses to which pottery was put at a given archaeological site, including physical traces of such use preserved on individual potsherds, but vessel form studies at least provide a broad framework within which other evidence can be analyzed.  And while the direct identification and quantification of vessel forms at an archaeological site is of course very challenging when most of the vessels have been shattered into small sherds, independent studies of whole or nearly whole vessels from the same culture and time period can be extremely useful for interpreting more fragmentary finds. 

For the Spanish colonial era in general, and the 16^th century specifically, researchers are also fortunate to have documentary evidence that can reveal the types and relative frequency of specific named pottery vessel types present in a variety of contexts, such as personal probate inventories, warehouse lists, merchandise receipts, and shipping manifests.  Moreover, comprehensive dictionaries of the Spanish language from the 18^th century and later also provide sometimes detailed descriptions of vessel types that in many cases were in use for centuries before and after the 16^th century, sometimes right up to the present day (Real Academia Española 1726-1737).  Such data can be invaluable for identifying named vessel forms with well-documented functions, and for establishing important correspondences between the documentary and archaeological record.

There have been many archaeologically-focused studies of Spanish tradition ceramics during the colonial era and earlier.  These include a number of English-language studies and compilations that are important sources for Spanish colonial archaeologists (e.g. Goggin 1960, 1968; Lister and Lister 1974, 1976, 1978, 1982, 1987; Boone 1984; Deagan 1987; Skowronek et al. 1988; Marken 1994; Avery 1997).  Many of these tend to give greater emphasis to Spanish majolica and olive jar, particularly with regard to their more well-defined and limited range of vessel forms, especially in comparison to the wider range of less easily defined vessel forms evident among other coarse earthenwares.  However, these publications are fortunately supplemented by other Spanish-language studies that make use of a range of archaeological and historical data to create and refine somewhat more comprehensive ceramic vessel typologies.  These include several studies that have drawn upon substantial collections of whole or nearly whole vessels recovered from architectural fill inside historic structures in the Spanish cities of Seville, Triana, and others, also including privy deposits (Amores Carredano and Chisvert Jiménez 1993; Pleguezuelo-Hernández 1993; Sánchez Cortegana 1994, 1998; Pleguezuelo et al. 1997, 1999; Romero Vidal 2012; Ceniceros Herreros 2012; Cruz Sánchez 2014; López Torres 2018).  Many of these publications include scale drawings of a diverse range of complete and partial vessel profiles, accompanied by text descriptions of vessel types and their classification and functions, providing an important addition to the more sherd-focused English-language literature (but see Ness 2015 for more recent vessel form typology for the Spanish colonial era).

It is primarily the latter set of well-illustrated Spanish-language vessel typologies that I have drawn upon to create the selection of generic 16^th-century vessel profile images that follows below, along with descriptive tables of major vessel types that includes shape, size ranges (based in some cases on a very small number of examples), surface treatments, and general uses.  These example images and descriptions should not be considered comprehensive or definitive, since all of these forms have a range of variation beyond the selected examples portrayed here, and since this is a preliminary overview of ongoing studies.  However, these summary descriptions are presented here as part of a broader and ongoing effort to understand the nature of the Spanish ceramic assemblage at the Luna Settlement, and what it can tell us about daily life at the site during its two-year occupation between 1559 and 1561.

Tableware – Dining

Individual tableware for 16^th-century Spanish dining included the ubiquitous plato and escudilla vessel forms, equivalent to the plate (more properly a “soup plate”) and bowl, used to eat solid, semi-solid, and liquid foods at the table.  Ceramic drinking ware included individual jarrita and jarrito forms (distinguished by the number of handles), as well as the taza, or cup, and sometimes the cuenco, or drinking bowl.  It should be noted here, however, that 16^th-century documents also frequently record the use of wooden plates, bowls, and cups instead of, or in addition to, their ceramic equivalents for both maritime and terrestrial military use, and other more expensive materials were also used for the same vessel types, including tin plate, pewter, and even silver.

16th-Century Spanish Tableware - Dining

Plato

Form: Wide soup-plate with concave or ring base, gently rounded lower section, and outflaring slightly sloping upper section.

Dimensions: 18-24 cm orifice diameter; 3-6 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Tin enameled (interior and exterior).

Uses: Used for serving and consuming solid or partially liquid food at the table.

Escudilla

Form: Small bowl with rounded interior and a sharp or rounded profile break on the exterior, forming a vertical or nearly vertical upper section and a sloping or rounded lower section, and either a concave or slightly flaring ring base.  Includes a porringer version with two opposing orejas/orejetas, or lug handles.

Dimensions: 9-20 cm orifice diameter; 4-8 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Tin enameled or lead glazed (interior and exterior).

Uses: Used in consuming or measuring liquid foods.

Jarrita

Form: Small version of the jarra with two or more vertical handles.

Dimensions: 7-10 cm orifice diameter; 8-10 cm belly width (if present); 15-20 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (green) or unglazed.

Uses: Used as individual drinking containers.

Jarrito

Form: Small version of the jarro with one vertical handle.

Dimensions: 6-8 cm orifice diameter; 9-11 cm belly width; 13-18 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and almost all of exterior) or tin enameled.

Uses: Used as individual drinking containers.

Taza (large form called Tazón)

Form: Cup with a flat, slightly outflaring narrow base, wide belly, and slightly outflaring rim, typically with a single handle, but can have two opposing handles (especially with the tazón form).

Dimensions: 8-10 cm orifice diameter; 7-12 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and exterior partial or complete) or tin enameled.

Uses: Used as individual drinking containers.

Cuenco

Form: Hemispherical cup or small bowl, without handles.

Dimensions: comparable to escudilla.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and exterior partial or complete) or tin enameled.

Uses: Used as individual drinking containers, or in consuming or measuring liquid foods.

Tableware - Serving

Pottery vessels used for serving food at the table included a range of containers for liquids such as wine or water in various sizes, including the larger cantaro/cantara forms and the smaller jarro/jarra forms, commonly taking the form of pitchers.  These vessels were also commonly used as measures, containing specific amounts equivalent to rations of wine, for example.  Such vessels were also made of other materials, including brass and tin plate.  Table service also included large serving bowls called fuentes, as well as platters simply called platos grandes.  Small one-handled ceramic bottles with narrow necks called alcuzas were used to dispense olive oil.

16th-Century Spanish Tableware - Serving

Cántara

Form: Large, flat-bottomed jar with two or more vertical handles.

Generally more pot-bellied than a jarra, and with a shorter neck.

Dimensions: Multiple sizes, including 1.0 and 0.5 arrobas, and larger.

13-15 cm orifice diameter; 25-27 cm belly width; [33-44 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Unglazed.

Uses: Used for liquid storage, transport, and dispensing. 

Cántaro

Form: Large, flat-bottomed jar with one vertical handle. 

Generally more pot-bellied than a jarro, and with a shorter neck.

Dimensions: Multiple sizes, including 1.0 and 0.5 arrobas, and larger; 8-13 cm orifice diameter;

22-32 cm belly width; 32-48 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Unglazed.

Uses: Used for liquid storage, transport, and dispensing. 

Jarra

Form: Medium flat-bottomed jar with two or more vertical handles.

Generally less pot-bellied than a cántara, and with a longer neck.

Dimensions: 8-10 cm orifice diameter; 18-20 cm belly diameter; 25-32? cm height

Surface Treatment: Unglazed.

Uses: Used for dispensing water or wine at the table. 

Jarro

Form: Medium flat-bottomed jar with one vertical handle.  Generally less pot-bellied than a cántaro, and with a longer neck. 

Dimensions: 8-15 cm orifice diameter; 14-27 belly diameter; 20-35 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and partial exterior) or unglazed.

Uses: Used for dispensing water or wine at the table. 

Fuente

Form: Large, open serving bowl generally with straight or slightly curved outflaring lower portion and sometimes a vertical or slightly outflaring upper collar, and slightly outflaring concave ring base.

Dimensions: 25-33 cm orifice diameter; 10-12 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed or unglazed.

Uses: Used for presentng and serving food at the table.

Alcuza (a.k.a. Redoma, though term usually reserved for glass form)

Form: Small bottle with wide belly, narrow neck, flaring ring base, and one vertical handle.

Dimensions: 5-6 cm orifice diameter; 11-17 cm belly diameter; 18-28 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed.

Uses: Used for serving olive oil at the table or during cooking.

Cookware – Food Preparation

While 16^th-century Spanish cooking employed a wide range of containers of different materials, including from cast iron skillets (sartenes), copper kettles and cauldrons (calderas, calderos), wooden mixing bowls, etc., pottery played a very important role in food preparation.  Liquid foods such as porridges, stews, gruels, etc. were cooked over coals in earthenware pots (ollas) of various sizes, while shallower, more open vessels called cazuelas (similar to casserole dishes) were also used over coals or in ovens for a range of foods, and could have ceramic lids on which coals could also be placed for baking without an oven.  The ceramic brasero (later also known as anafe/anafre) was commonly used as a miniature stove to contain hot coals over which ollas and cazuelas would be placed for cooking.  Earlier stages in food preparation, such as soaking salted meats, preparing dough, marinating, etc., could be carried out using large ceramic basins called lebrillos, though these vessels could also have been used for washing dishes or clothes, personal hygiene, etc. (e.g. Amores Carredano and Chisvert Jiménez 1993:288).  And while grinding spices, herbs, and other foods was commonly carried out with brass or bronze mortar and pestles, ceramic morteros were also used, glazed or unglazed, presumably with wooden pestles.

16th-Century Spanish Cookware

Cazuela

Form: Wide, shallow pan with gently rounded or flattened base, with or without horizontal handles.

Dimensions: 14-31 cm orifice diameter; 6-8 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and partial exterior).

Uses: Used over fire for frying and sautéing foods.

Olla (a.k.a. Puchero, when small)

Form: Globular pot with flat or slightly convex base, wide belly, slightly restricted neck and outflaring rim, and normally two vertical handles (though can be one or four handles).

Dimensions: Wide range of sizes; 12-28 cm orifice diameter; 15-45 cm belly width; 17-39 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and partial exterior)

Uses: Used over fire for cooking liquids such as porridges, stews, soups, etc.

Brasero (a.k.a. Anafe/Anafre)

Form: Flat-based brazier with an insloping straight-walled lower portion and a rounded open upper portion and an incurved lip.

Dimensions: 24-38 cm orifice diameter; 47 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Unglazed.

Uses: Portable stove/heater for hot coals.

Lebrillo

Form: Wide, flat-based containers with straight, outsloping walls and a thick overhanging border, normally with cord/rope impressions. 

Dimensions: Generally large, but including a range of sizes; 35-80 cm orifice diameter; 10-18 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and exterior just over the lip).

Uses: Used for a range of household functions including soaking meats, cleaning clothes, personal hygiene, etc.

Mortero

Form: Thick-walled, flat-bottomed vessels with rounded interior and thickened and slightly incurved rim.

Dimensions: 18-20 cm orifice diameter; 13-18 cm height.

Surface Treatment: Unglazed or glazed (green exterior, white interior).

Uses: Used for grinding spices, herbs, etc.

Storage Ware

Pottery has always been commonly used for storage of liquids and solids, and the range of storage ware in 16^th-century Spain included flat-bottomed and round-bottomed vessels of diverse sizes and shapes.  The largest storage vessels were tinajas, with wide mouths and flat bases, and which could be used to store many different materials, both liquid and solid.  Large, wide-mouthed ceramic tubs called tinas were also used for catching rainwater or other liquid storage.  Smaller storage vessels included the orza, basically a smaller version of the tinaja, as well as the tarro (more recently also known as albarelo), both of which were used to store preserves, spices, drugs, etc.  Several varieties of narrow-necked, round-bottomed jars were more commonly used for storage during transport, including the ubiquitous botija, known by archaeologists as olive jars, which was a standard shipboard transport container for wine, vinegar, olive oil, and water, and the handled cantimplora form, which was well-suited for the transport of liquids by horse or mule. 

It should be noted that several detailed typologies have been developed for the “olive jar” based on overall vessel shape and neck configuration (e.g. Goggin 1960; Amores Carredano and Chisvert Jiménez 1993; Marken 1994; Avery 1997), but unfortunately the classification most frequently used in common parlance is still Goggin’s original (1960) classification into Early (c1500-1580), Middle (c1580-1800), and Late (after c1800) styles, which conflates two completely different vessel forms for the 16^th century part of the chronology.  As has been noted by several of the subsequent authors above, Goggin’s “Early Style” olive jar is actually the two-handled cantimplora vessel form constructed in two lateral halves, while his “Middle Style” and “Late Style” olive jars are true botijas, which lacked handles.  Moreover, the botija form was used throughout the 16^th century and into the late 15^th century in Spain (Pleguezuelo et al. 1999:271), and was actually contemporaneous with the cantimplora form.  The Luna Settlement and Emanuel Point shipwrecks have produced fragments of both vessel forms, illustrating the fact that Goggin’s “Middle Style” olive jar (the botija) and his “Early Style” olive jar (the cantimplora) were distinct and both in use at the same time.

16th-Century Spanish Storage Ware

Botija (a.k.a. the Olive Jar)

Form: Round-bottomed globular jar with a narrow neck and outflaring, slightly to substantially thickened rim.

Dimensions: Two sizes: 1-1.25 arrobas (6-10 cm orifice diameter; 24-37 cm width; 43-61 cm height), and 0.5 arrobas (7-8 cm orifice diameter; 22-26 cm width; 25-33 cm height).

Surface Treatment: Unglazed or lead glazed (interior); half-arroba size normally used for olive oil and glazed to avoid spoilage, with full-arroba size commonly used for wine, vinegar, and water and unglazed, though frequently coated with pez, or resin, on the interior.

Uses: Used for liquid (mostly) transport.

Cantimplora (sometimes also known as Barril; equivalent to Goggin’s “Early Style” Olive Jar)

Form: Circular, biconvex jar with expanded, flattened, or slightly dimpled sides, a projecting narrow neck with flaring, straight, or constricted rim, and two elongated loop handles.

Dimensions: 4-13 cm orifice diameter; 16-34 cm body diameter; 12-38 cm belly width; 19-42 cm height

Surface Treatment: Unglazed and occasionally glazed (interior and partial exterior).

Uses: Used for liquid transport and dispensing. 

Orza

Form: Tall, rounded, flat-based jar with slightly restricted neck and sometimes slightly outflaring lip.

Dimensions: Wide range of sizes; 10-22 cm orifice diameter; 17-42 cm belly width; 21-47 cm height

Surface Treatment: Glazed or unglazed.

Uses: Used for storing a range of goods including preserves and drugs.

Tarro (a.k.a. Albarelo)

Form: Tall, cylindrical, waisted, flat-bottomed jar with a stepped shoulder below the slightly narrowed mouth (sometimes slightly outflaring).

Dimensions: 8-9 cm orifice diameter; 9-11 cm body width; 17-22 cm height

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and exterior or partial exterior) or tin enameled.

Uses: Used for storing drugs, preserves, spices, etc.

Tina

Form: Very large, flat-based, open tub with rounded walls and thickened or outflaring/overhanging lip, sometimes with a decorative pinched strip on the shoulder.

Dimensions: 48-78 cm orifice diameter; 23-50 cm height

Surface Treatment: Unglazed.

Uses: Used for catching rainwater and holding liquids.

Tinaja

Form: Very large, tall, rounded, flat-based jar with slightly restricted neck and thickened or slightly outflaring/overhanging lip.

Dimensions: 20-32 cm orifice diameter; 38-52 cm belly width; 42-57 cm height

Surface Treatment: Unglazed.

Uses: Used for storage of liquid and solid materials.

Hygiene

Apart from multi-use pottery vessels that were likely employed in personal washing, such as the lebrillo form above, the bacín form was used as a recipient for bodily waste (a chamber pot).  Despite the use of the name, however, the archaeological ceramic type known as Green Bacín is generally characteristic of the large lebrillo form in Spanish assemblages, and not the bacín form, which normally has a honey-colored lead glaze (Amores Carredano and Chisvert Jiménez 1993:288-289).

16th-Century Spanish Bacín

Bacín

Form: Medium flat-bottomed container with straight (or slightly waisted) vertical or slightly outsloping (and sometimes insloping) walls and an overhanging rim, usually with two handles.

Dimensions: 21-32 exterior lip orifice diameter; 19-29 cm height

Surface Treatment: Lead glazed (interior and partial exterior) and tin enameled.

Uses: Recipient for bodily waste.

References Cited

Amores Carredano, Fernando de, and Nieves Chisvert Jiménez

1993    Tipología de la Cerámica Común Bajomedieval y Moderna Sevillana (SS. XV-XVIII): I, La Loza Quebrada de Relleno de Bóvedas.  Spal, Revista de Prehistoria y Arqueología de la Universidad de Sevilla 2:269-325.  http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/spal.1993.i2.11

Avery, George

1997    Pots as Packaging: The Spanish Olive Jar and Andalusian Transatlantic Commercial Activity, 16^th-18^th Centuries.  Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertatin, Department of Anthropology, University of Florida, Gainesville.

Boone, James L. III

1984    Majolica Escudillas of the 15th and 16th Centuries: A Typological Analysis of 55 Examples from Qsar es-Seghir.  Historical Archaeology 18(1):76-86.

Ceniceros Herreros, Javier

2012    Cerámica con Vidriado Estannífero del Alcázar de Nájera (La Rioja).  In La Cerámica en el Mundo del Vino y del Aceite, ed. by Teresa Álvarez González, Jaume Coll Conesa, Enrique Martínez Glera, and Josep Pérez Camps, pp. 168-184.  XV Congreso Annual de la Asociación de Ceramología, La Rioja, Spain.  http://www.ceramologia.org/gestion/archivos/Comunicacion7.pdf

Cruz Sánchez, Pedro Javier, Agustín Ruiz de Marco, María Jesús Tarancón Gómez, Óscar Luis Arellano Hernández, Montserrat Lerín Sanz, Raquel Barrio Onrubia

2014    Contextos Cerámicos de los Siglos XVI y XVII en una Villa del Oriente Castellano: La Colección Recuperada en la Letrina del Palacio de los Hurtado de Mendoza (Almazán, Soria).  BSAA Arqueología 80:83-127.  https://dialnet.unirioja.es/descarga/articulo/5452598.pdf

Deagan, Kathleen

1987    Artifacts of the Spanish Colonies of Florida and the Caribbean, 1500-1800.  Volume 1: Ceramics, Glassware, and Beads.  Smithsonian Institution Press, Washington, D.C.

Goggin, John M.

1960    The Spanish Olive Jar: An Introductory Study.  Yale University Publications in Anthropology Number 62.  New Haven, CT.

1968    Spanish Majolica in the New World: Types of the Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries. Yale University Publications in Anthropology, Vol. 72.  New Haven, CT.

Lister, Florence C., and Robert H. Lister

1974    Maiolica in Colonial Spanish America.  Historical Archaeology 8:17-52.

1976    A Descriptive Dictionary for 500 Years of Spanish-Tradition Ceramics, 13th Through 18th Centuries. Society for Historical Archaeology, Special Publication Series 1.

1978    The First Mexican Maiolicas: Imported and Locally Produced.  Historical Archaeology 12:1-24.

1982    Sixteenth Century Maiolica Pottery in the Valley of Mexico.  Anthropological Papers of the University of Arizona, Number 39.  University of Arizona Press, Tucson.

1987    Andalusian Ceramics in Spain and New Spain: A Cultural Registerfrom the Third

Century B.C to 1700.  University of Arizona Press, Tucson.

López Torres, Pina

2018    “Loza Quebrada” procedente de la bóveda de la capilla de San Isidoro, Catedral de Sevilla.  Spal, Revista de Prehistoria y Arqueología de la Universidad de Sevilla 27(1):283-296. 

http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/spal.2018i27.11

Marken, Mitchell W.

1994    Pottery from Spanish Shipwrecks, 1500-1800.  University Press of Florida, Gainesville.

Ness, Kathryn L.

2015    Classifications Systems with a Plot: Vessel Forms and Ceramic Typologies in the Spanish Atlantic.  International Journal of Historical Archaeology 19(2):309–333.  https://doi-org/10.1007/s10761-015-0290-9

Pleguezuelo-Hernández, Alfonso

1993    Seville Coarsewares, 1300-1650: A Preliminary Typological Survey.  Medieval Ceramics 17:39-50.  https://medievalceramics.wordpress.com/volume-17-1993/

Pleguezuelo Hernández, Alfonso, Rosario Huarte Cambra, Pilar Somé Muñoz, and Reyes Ojeda Calvo

1997    Cerámicas de la Edad Moderna (1450-1632).  In Real Monasterio de San Clemente: Una Propuesta Arqueológica, ed. by Miguel Ángel Tabales Rodríguez, pp. 130-157.  Universidad de Sevilla, Sevilla.  https://hdl.handle.net/11532/324005

Pleguezuelo, Alfonso, Antonio Librero, María Espinosa, and Pedro Mora

1999    Loza Quebrada Procedente de la Capilla del Colegio-Universidad de Santa María de Jesús (Sevilla). Spal, Revista de Prehistoria y Arqueología de la Universidad de Sevilla 8:263-292.  http://dx.doi.org/10.12795/spal.1999.i8.14

Real Academia Española

1726-1739       Diccionario de la Lengua Castellana (6 vols.).  Imprenta de la Real Academia Española, Madrid.  http://web.frl.es/DA.html

Romero Vidal, Alfonso

2012    Barro y Vino: Una Buena Amistad con Más de Seis Milenios de Tradición. In La Cerámica en el Mundo del Vino y del Aceite, ed. by Teresa Álvarez González, Jaume Coll Conesa, Enrique Martínez Glera, and Josep Pérez Camps, pp. 68-95.  XV Congreso Annual de la Asociación de Ceramología, La Rioja, Spain.  http://www.ceramologia.org/gestion/archivos/Ponencia3.pdf

Sánchez Cortegana, José María

1994    El Officio de Ollero en Sevilla en el Siglo XVI.  Diputación Provincial de Sevilla, Seville, Spain.

1998    La Cerámica Exportada a América en el Siglo XVI a través de la Documentación del Archivo General de Indias (II).  Ajuares Domésticos y Cerámica Cultural y Laboral.  Laboratorio de Arte 11:121-133.  https://editorial.us.es/es/revistas/laboratorio-de-arte

Skowronek, Russel K., Richard E. Johnson, and Stanley South

1988    The Sixteenth Century Spanish Imported Ceramics at Santa Elena: A Formal Analysis.  In Spanish Artifacts from Santa Elena, by Stanley South, Russell K. Skowronek, and Richard E. Johnson, pp. 205-304.  Occasional Papers of the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology, Anthropological Studies 7.  Columbia, SC.

Worth, John E.

2019    Functional and Spatial Patterning in Artifact Distribution at the Luna Settlement Site.  Paper presented at the 71st Annual Conference of the Florida Anthropological Society, Crystal River, Florida, May 11, 2019.

What’s the Value of an Artifact?

John E. Worth

© UWF Division of Anthropology and Archaeology

People who discover artifacts by chance or by choice on their privately-owned land sometimes bring them to archaeologists working at museums or universities in order to learn more about them.  Apart from the most obvious questions like “What is it?” and “How old is it?” (both of which archaeologists love to try and answer), another not infrequent question is “What’s it worth?”  While this question is usually intended to elicit a dollar value, the answer from a professional archaeologist is always going to be in terms of what the artifact can tell us about the person or people who made and used it, and how that contributes to an understanding of past cultures.  The truth is that archaeology isn’t about finding artifacts; it’s about finding clues to the past.  An oft-repeated mantra is “It’s not what you find, it’s what you find out,”  and I’ve always told my students that real archaeology is less like Indiana Jones and more like Sherlock Holmes.  What we seek as archaeologists are the scattered surviving clues to what people did and how people lived in the distant past, and it is the clues that provide us with the ability to reconstruct those stories.  Individual artifacts are like printed letters on the pages of an irreplaceable rare book; they all contribute to telling a story, but if they are removed from their original context, they cease to have any meaning or value on their own, and furthermore their removal ultimately leaves the words and pages of the book full of gaps, eventually rendering the book unreadable.

Most or all of the artifacts that archaeologists normally find during their fieldwork are best described as the trash or litter of the past.  I’ve often used the phrase “scientific garbology” to describe much of basic archaeological inquiry, because what we normally find and analyze in our effort to understand past cultures are the broken and lost or discarded pieces of everyday material things made and used by people in the past, such as shattered pottery vessels, rusty iron nails, and a wide array of scraps and bits of other things that ended up on or under the ground in the past.  Additionally, for most sites, all archaeologists find are those few durable things or parts of things that have survived decades or centuries of decomposition underground, which is only a very small fraction of the material culture originally in use.  What this all means is that while the vast majority of artifacts that archaeologists normally find are of little to no monetary value at all to modern-day treasure-hunters and collectors who traffic in antiquities, they really only have value to scholars who can use them in concert with everything else found with and around them as clues to the past.  And in that sense, an artifact removed from its original context can actually tell us very little.  However, this is not the case for an artifact that is excavated scientifically as part of a professional archaeological investigation that records the exact vertical and horizontal locations of all associated artifacts in terms of soil and sediment layers and intrusive pits or other subsurface features.  Even the most mundane and commonplace artifact can have immense information value if excavated as part of a carefully planned and implemented archaeological research project.

The Luna Settlement site is no different, and in fact provides many object lessons in how important a single artifact in context can tell us.  An example of this is a particular wrought iron nail and a handful of Spanish olive jar sherds that were found three years ago in the area we are currently opening new excavation units on for the 2019 UWF terrestrial archaeological field school.  These otherwise common Luna-era artifacts were different in several ways from the rest that were found in several excavation units in this area.  First, they were located quite a bit deeper in the soil than the rest of the artifacts found here, which is important because what we normally find is that Luna-era artifacts are concentrated in a specific layer with a fairly regular range of depths below the current ground surface.  The reason they are sorted out at those consistent depths is related in large part to what archaeologists call “bioturbation,” which is the collective effect of all life forms that live in or tunnel through the uppermost layers of soil, including tree roots, earthworms and beetles, fire ant nests, gopher tortoises and armadillos, and a plethora of other organisms that ultimately create holes and tunnels that allow sand and artifacts from upper layers to drop gradually and cumulatively deeper in the soil than they were originally deposited in.  Combined with the fact that the Luna Settlement is situated on a coarse sand substrate, probably an old marine terrace that was formed when sea level was considerably higher than it is today, and has been subject to vibrations from nearby passing trains several times a day for well over a century here, this has collectively resulted in the migration of the original surface-scatter of Luna-era artifacts quite a bit deeper into the ground than they were.  But the caret head nail and olive jar sherds in question here were well below this artifact layer.

The second difference is that they were found within the stain of a posthole that had been excavated from the original ground surface down deeper into the subsoil in order to erect a post as part of a wooden structure.  Through careful excavation, mapping, and documentation under unit supervision by UWF graduate student Christina Bolte, we were able to follow this stain from where it first appeared within the artifact-rich layer down into the sandy subsoil, and thus we were able to clarify that all these artifacts were found inside this posthole.

Profile view of the bisected posthole with patchy charcoal staining.

Related to this, the third difference is that because these artifacts were all found together deep within a narrow posthole, they could be contextually associated with other objects found in the same archaeological feature (the posthole).  And in the case of this posthole, we actually discovered not just chunks of carbonized wood in its fill, but a remnant of the charred wooden post itself.  Clearly, the post had burned down into the ground, leaving incompletely burned carbonized remnants of the post to preserve across the centuries until we uncovered them.  And since it seems unlikely that a single, isolated wooden post would have burned so completely down into the ground unless it were part of the wall of a larger wooden structure that burned, we infer that this post was one of the wall-posts of a Luna-era structure.  The large olive jar sherds were found oriented vertically around the area where the central post would have been, suggesting that they may have been shoved into the posthole beside the post to help shore it up in the soft sand substrate before it was backfilled.  The nail was found in close context to the charred post itself, and may originally have been nailed into it prior to the fire, though it may also have simply been included incidentally in the posthole fill, or might perhaps simply have dropped down into the posthole as the post burned above.

View of Spanish olive jar sherds within the posthole fill.

X-ray of charred post with adjacent nail.

This is where the story gets even more interesting.  Another of our UWF graduate students, Emily Youngman, has been working with the hundreds of olive jar sherds from this and adjacent excavation units, and has managed to discover more than a few cross-mends between many of these sherds.  While the majority of these mends are between sherds that were found in the artifact-rich layer described above, several of the sherds deep inside the posthole actually mended to the sherds in the original surface layer, which means that the posthole was definitely dug after several olive jars were smashed and scattered across the surface of the ground during Luna’s time (possibly during the September 19, 1559 hurricane itself).  It is reasonable to speculate that after the likely destruction of any structures originally built before the hurricane winds ravaged the site, the structure to which this post belonged was erected as a potential replacement for whatever was there before.

Photo showing artifacts found within the posthole, including the nail and several olive jar sherds already mended by UWF student Emily Youngman with others from the original surface layer.

When did the post actually burn?  Another student, undergraduate Mirabela Schleidt, recently used a grant from the UWF Office of Undergraduate Research to obtain a radiocarbon date from the carbonized wood of the post, and the results were wholly consistent with a 16^th-century date, with the years 1559-1561 falling within the calculated date ranges, just as would be expected.  This result provides even further confirmation that the nail and olive jar sherds found within the posthole and in direct association with the charred post are definitely part of the Luna Settlement.  We eventually hope to date one or more of the olive jar sherds themselves using a technique called optically stimulated luminescence (OSL), which measures the time since the sand grains inside the clay matrix were last fired by using accumulated background radiation after the sherd was buried.

UWF student Mirabela Schleidt weighs carbonized wood sample to be sent for radiocarbon dating.

And finally, even beyond this, since we know that these specific artifacts cross-mend with others that were originally on the ground surface, we can also associate this specific post and the structure it belonged to with a range of other associated 16^th-century artifacts scattered across this specific area of the site.  Since the area we are digging in is in the “core area” of the Luna Settlement, an area with the densest and most diverse assemblage of 16^th-century artifacts on the site, and potentially near or adjacent to the hypothesized plaza, we can infer that the occupant of this structure was probably among the higher-status military officers or other officials living there.  This should ultimately provide us with a very informative "snapshot" of mid-16th-century life on the far fringes of the Spanish colonial empire.

So what’s the value of a wrought iron nail or a handful of olive jar sherds?  Virtually nothing monetarily, and of only limited historical value without its exact archaeological context.  If someone had dug a hole here and pulled out the nail and sherds, they’d have exactly that: a nail and a few sherds.  But since we excavated these artifacts as part of a broader archaeological project and in a careful, systematic manner, we can associate these precise artifacts with a wealth of contextual information that allows us to infer that these artifacts may have been directly associated with the residence of someone living in the heart of Luna's short-lived settlement called Santa María de Ochuse.  After the hurricane that nearly destroyed the settlement, they were deposited in one of the postholes for a newly-erected structure that survived long enough eventually to burn down either by accident during the expedition, or perhaps intentionally when the Spaniards evacuated it.  Without their undisturbed archaeological context, these artifacts tell us very little, but in context, they provide clues to the scene of a compelling historical episode that ultimately changed the course of history through the failure and withdrawal of the Luna Settlement in 1561.  And that, simply put, is their true value.

Dining at the Luna Settlement

John E. Worth*

© UWF Division of Anthropology and Archaeology

Understanding Food-Related Artifacts

A substantial number of the artifacts uncovered by University of West Florida archaeologists at the 1559-1561 Luna Settlement (Worth 2016; Worth et al. 2017) are directly related to eating, preparing, and transporting food.  This includes a wide range of broken pottery, including tin-enameled tablewares, lead-glazed and unglazed cookwares, and large ceramic storage and transport vessels, all made within the Spanish ceramic tradition, and produced either in Spain or in New Spain (Mexico).  Also included are Aztec-tradition ceramics produced by Mexican Indians and likely used by both Spaniards and Mexican Indians accompanying the expedition.  The total quantity of Spanish and Aztec ceramics analyzed as of 2019 is nearly 3,000 sherds, weighing more than 15 kilos.  Also present is a range of local Native American ceramics, which documents suggest may have been scavenged by members of the expedition from abandoned villages and camps for use by the Spanish (Worth 2018).  Other, less common food-related artifacts include remains of cooking and eating utensils such as knives and spoons. Wooden spoons have been found on the Emanuel Point shipwrecks offshore from the settlement.  The remnants of the food itself also constitute an important part of the archaeological record both on land and underwater. Charred plant remains, fragments of animal bone, and shell have been found on land, and a considerable diversity of well-preserved organic animal and plant remains have been recovered from the shipwrecks just offshore.

All these artifacts contribute to our understanding of the daily lives of the soldiers and other colonists who lived for two years at the Luna Settlement, providing an important supplement to narrative accounts and other documentary records of the expedition.  Both documentary and archaeological data illuminate how expedition members anticipated and prepared to sustain themselves when they originally sailed from Veracruz to Florida to establish a port settlement as a launching pad for pushing north and east across the interior Southeast to found a colony on the Atlantic coast of modern South Carolina.  The archaeology and the documents  also provide evidence for the strategies that the colonists adopted to survive after the bulk of their staple foods were lost in the hurricane just five weeks after their arrival (Hudson et al. 1989; Priestley 2010; Worth 2018).  Beginning on September 20, 1559, survivors were obligated to wait for relief fleets from Veracruz and Havana that only arrived at intervals of three to eight months, bringing decreasing quantities of foods that were rapidly consumed by the hungry settlers on Pensacola Bay (Bolte 2017).  Expedition members were ultimately forced to rely on whatever foodstuffs were available in the local natural environment, including deer,  fish,shellfish and local plants, or on whatever they could barter or take from local Indian groups who became increasingly antagonistic toward the hungry Spaniards.  Luna even moved the bulk of the army 40 leagues inland to an abandoned Indian village called Nanipacana along the Alabama River in an effort to relocate closer to a source of Native foodstuffs, The Spanish returned to Pensacola just five months later amidst increasing ambushes from local Indian groups who had withdrawn and hidden with all their food.  A 200-man Spanish detachment remained in the interior for an additional four months living off food provided for them in the province of Coosa at the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in Northwest Georgia before returning to Pensacola late in 1560.

If we are to understand what the distribution and relative proportions of broken ceramics and other food-related artifacts on the Luna Settlement are actually telling us, not just regarding what and how people prepared and ate their food, but how the food and food-related items were distributed among the soldiers, sailors, and families on the expedition, then we must develop a sound understanding of the nature of dining in the 16th-century Spanish colonial world, both in Spain and in its established New World colonies. We must also consider a variety of social contexts ranging from private households to ships’ crews to terrestrial military units.  Since archaeologists often use the types and quantities of artifacts found in different areas of an archaeological site as a means of revealing the identity and relative social status of individuals living there, it behooves us to develop a sound model of how and by whom food and the utensils, vessels, and containers used to transport, store, prepare, cook, and serve it were originally purchased and provisioned for the expedition, and how and by whom they would have been utilized on a daily basis at the Luna Settlement site.  This blog post, and others that follow, will explore these subjects in greater detail for the mid-16th-century Spanish colonial world.

The Organization of Dining

The Luna expedition was first and foremost a military one, as its primary goal was to establish a permanent Spanish presence in southeastern North America, which was at the time viewed as an extremely vulnerable flank of the primary route for the Spanish treasure fleets returning from the New World via Havana and the Florida Straits (a.k.a. the Bahama Channel).  The Viceroy of New Spain, Luis de Velasco, developed a strategy in consultation with his advisors to establish a first port settlement at the Bay of Ochuse (Pensacola Bay), then push quickly inland to retrace Hernando de Soto’s 1540 route between central Alabama and central South Carolina, and then descend to the Atlantic coast and establish a second port colony at what maps called the Punta de Santa Elena.  While the ultimate goal was to populate these new Spanish colonial port towns with permanent settlers to begin the long process of developing a local economy and expanding across the landscape, the 1559 expedition under Tristán de Luna y Arellano was mostly made up of soldiers (including 100 Mexica nobles as “Indian soldiers”) who would move quickly across the interior on horseback and on foot, along with assorted servants, slaves, a group of Mexican Indian craftsmen, and some family members.  Although Luna and other officers and royal officials probably intended eventually to settle and remain long-term, few actually brought their families on this first expedition, which was more than anything an initial Spanish army foray meant to precede later colonists.

Without going into great detail here, the organization of Luna’s expedition followed the broad parameters of the typical Spanish tercio military structure in Europe (a good example of the composition of an entire army from 1591 is found in Barado y Font 1884:552-555).  With Luna himself as captain-general of this army, assisted by a number of field-grade officers over the entire army (most notably the field master, or maese de campo, and the sergeant major, or sargento mayor, and also including a doctor, principal bailiff, general ensign, royal notary, and a few others), the rest of the officers and soldiers were divided into distinct infantry and cavalry companies comprising roughly 50 men each.  Each company had a captain (capitan), an ensign (alférez), a sergeant (sargento), and a handful of other company-grade officers, along with several corporals (cabos de esquadra) who served as  leaders of smaller squads of soldiers within each company, commonly comprising 25 men.  A contemporary example of this is Captain Juan Pardo’s company, sent as reinforcements to Florida in 1566, which had 250 men with 1 captain, 1 ensign, 1 sergeant, 1 fife, 2 drummers, 1 barber-surgeon, and 10 corporals over squads of 25 men each (Spanish Crown 1565).  After arrival, this company was divided in two to explore far inland, including just 7 corporals with squads under the same company officers (Hudson 1990:224, 271).  Separate from the formal military organization, but parallel to it, were three high-level royal officials, including a quartermaster (factor), treasurer (tesorero), and accountant (contador), as well as a single chaplain and six Dominican friars brought as missionaries who also served as priests to the Spanish members of the expedition.  Once 7 of the original 12 ships comprising Luna’s fleet had been destroyed, surviving sailors and ships’ officers were also incorporated into the settlement, at least temporarily.

The key element for understanding patterns in the distribution and relative proportions of food-related artifacts like pottery at the Luna Settlement is the basic unit of food preparation and consumption in both terrestrial armies and shipboard crews, which was the camarada, equivalent to the rancho, or mess. In Luna’s time, groups of soldiers who formed a rancho were called a camarada, the word deriving from the term cámara, or room, which refers to a group of soldiers quartered together.  Each camarada was comprised of between 5 and 10 soldiers who prepared and ate their rations together, who divided tasks such as cooking and cleaning, and who pooled at least part of their salaries for common expenses.  The rationale for this practice was reiterated in a 1632 royal ordinance that directed the renewal of the practice, which had fallen into disuse by that time. The ordinance explained that “one soldier on his own cannot support the necessary expenses with his salary, as several joining together can do,” and noted that the practice of living in camaradas reduced the “multiplicity of the baggage” carried by armies in the field (Spanish Crown 1632).  Moreover, each camarada or rancho had a leader selected by its members. A later 1728 royal ordinance reinforced the practice of dividing companies up in ranchos, noting that “each rancho should have a leader [cabo] at the election of the soldiers comprising it, and this person should be in charge of its money” (Spanish Crown 1728). 

A 1669 author described the routine activities of these ranchos:

…in each rancho they should have their pot [olla], and plate of copper or wood, hatchet, and splitting axe, and they should be distributed within the camaradas in order to carry them, and likewise one person each day should take care that there is everything to make the pot [of food], and this person, upon arriving at their quarters, should remain in it, guarding their belongings and starting up the fire with his fire-starting bag (which they should likewise have) while the others go out for straw, firewood, vegetables, or whatever the country offers, perhaps by water not being close by the squadron.  And thus there is necessary someone to bring, and someone to guard the containers or packs that each one should have in order to carry garlic, peppers, and their clothing, and the rest of the neccesaries for life and cleanliness (Dávila Orejón Gastón 1669:104).

This same author recommended that ranchos “not be less than five, nor should they exceed eight” (Dávila Orejón Gastón 1669:111), but another oft-cited 17th-century letter from an ambassador in Venice noted that camaradas were formed when “eight or ten unite to live together” (Martínez Laínez and Sánchez de Toca 2006:64-65).

As the 16th-century manifestation of the rancho, camaradas, therefore, seem to have been the basic economic and residential unit of unmarried soldiers in terrestrial armies during Luna’s time.  The men comprising these camaradas evidently both purchased and owned equipment, supplies, and food in common when circumstances allowed them opportunities to use their salaries and ration allowances.  Even when on expeditions in more remote territories like mid-16th-century Florida, the camarada was the unit to which rations, munitions, and other supplies and equipment were actually distributed and utilized.  Within each company, it was the sergeant’s responsibility to distribute food, munitions, and other supplies to the corporals in charge of each squad, giving an account to the ensign and captain as his superiors (Eguiluz 1595:18r; Gallo 1639:13v).  The corporals, on the other hand, were to ensure that the soldiers in their individual squads actually made and lived in camaradas. It was even specifically recommended that corporals should not be married men, because  in that case neither could they be a part of a camarada themselves, nor could the camarada to which the corporal belonged come to the corporal’s home (Eguiluz 1595:7r; Gallo 1639:11r-v).

Shipboard ranchos were similar to terrestrial ones, but limitations of space combined with the need to maintain a state of vigilance and readiness at all times meant that individual ranchos normally took turns using the one or two fogones, or firepits, on board, and sharing shipboard cooking gear in common.  The 18th-century version of this system is described in great detail in 1793 Spanish naval ordinances.  The ordinances state how sailors and officers were to be divided up into distinct ranchos of between 8 and 12 men, depending on the size of the vessel and the number and distribution of the artillery to which specific ranchos were assigned (Spanish Crown 1793).  While ships during Luna’s era were smaller and had correspondingly smaller crews, the descriptions of the basic system are nonetheless instructive.  Each rancho assigned cooking duties on a rotation, and each cook:

…will provide himself in the dispensary with the pots [ollas], cauldrons [calderos], large spoons [cucharones] and other utensils for their tasks, with the ship master making a list of what is delivered, which will serve as a receipt, overseen by the detail officer, each one of them responsible for that which they have received…The aforementioned delivery should be done in the mornings, after the guard of the firepits have confirmed that the cauldrons are clean and ready for cooking, comprising at the same time the goods that correspond to the afternoon meal...(Spanish Crown 1793:26-28).

Married men, however,  were permitted to go to land and eat and sleep with their families while in port, a practice that seems also to have been the case with married soldiers in a terrestrial army.

Given all the above, we can hypothesize that at the Luna Settlement, the spatial distribution of artifacts and other material debris and traces of both residence and food preparation and cooking activities will mirror the spatial distribution of the many camaradas, or ranchos, that must have characterized daily life among the majority of the soldiers that comprised the expedition.  If we set aside the contingent of field-grade and upper company-grade officers, which might have comprised as much as 50 of the 500-550 soldiers to have accompanied Luna, along with at least 36 married soldiers who are documented to have brought their wives and some children, and who thus likely lived and ate with their families, then we might be looking at a potential range of between 40 and 90 individual camaradas, or ranchos, which acted as basic dining/residential units across most of the settlement.  Each one of these smaller units would likely have utilized a common set of cooking and serving containers and utensils, originally purchased or supplied to each company (which was the basic unit of equipment designation in the Luna expedition account records) and then distributed by its sergeant to the corporals and their camaradas.   However, each camarada might instead have purchased some of these supplies on their own using pooled portions of their initial advance pay of 100-150 pesos issued to each soldier in Mexico City, or they might simply have supplemented more general company equipment and supplies using such funds.  Some company equipment might also have been shared among several camaradas, since not all soldiers necessarily dined simultaneously due to guard duty or patrols.

One possible configuration of the internal structure of a 50-man company on the Luna expedition.

In addition to the localized archaeological signature of each camarada/rancho, we would also expect to find traces of individual residences with associated cooking areas for the highest-level officers (the governor/captain-general, the three royal officials, a handful of other field-grade officers, and perhaps 10-12 company captains), all of whom by their elevated status and substantially-greater salaries and prior wealth would have been able to purchase or bring along their own more individualized set of equipment and supplies.  Such individuals are also all either documented or likely to have brought along either hired servants or in some cases slaves as well.  The chaplain likely had his own residence, and the Dominicans presumably resided and dined in common as well.  Whether or not the 100 noble Aztec soldiers or estimated 100 other Mexican Indian craftsmen who accompanied the expedition also formed their own separate ranchos and lived in common is at present undocumented,although this seems likely given the broader military dining/residential system described above.  The size and configuration of such Mexican Indian dining/residential units may have been quite different from that of the Spanish camaradas, but if not, they might have added another 20-40 locations on the landscape.  Using these estimates, the number of individual dining/residential units on the Luna Settlement  might be in the range of 75-150 distinct units.

What all of this means from an archaeological standpoint is that if we take the area of the upper terrace portion of the Luna Settlement where the soldiers and others seem to have been living, which has been found through UWF shovel testing to be 9 hectares (90,000 square meters), but which when enclosed in a rectangular outline might be as much as 11 hectares (110,000 square meters), then the average size of each dining/residential unit corresponding to the 75-150 hypothesized camaradas/ranchos discussed above would be 600 to 733 square meters each on the low end, to between 733 and 1467 square meters on the high end.  These hypothetical areas would correspond to circles measuring 28 to 31 meters up to 39 to 43 meters in diameter (averaging 35 meters in diameter), or squares measuring 24 to 27 meters up to 35 to 38 meters on a side (averaging 31 meters on a side).  How or if these hypothetical camaradas and other ranchos or residences were laid out with respect to the original planned town grid of 140 lots described by the Viceroy in 1559 before the expedition’s departure is unclear, but this may eventually be revealed through careful, long-term archaeological research to document the locations of concentrations of artifacts and subsurface features related to structures, refuse disposal, or other activities.

The Equipment of Dining

Given the inference that most of the dining/residential units at the Luna Settlement were likely to have been camaradas consisting of some 5-10 men who used a single set of storage, cooking, and serving equipment in common, and who withdrew food (even if on short rations) from the same common warehouse source, presumably supplemented by gathering, fishing, hunting, or scavenging, what would such a set of equipment have looked like? 

While my ongoing in-depth documentary research into the dietary range of 16th-century Spaniards in both Spain and its New World colonies is beyond the scope of this article (but see some details in Cook et al. 2016), a few brief observations are instructive here.  Shipboard rations for Spanish military vessels during the mid-16th century provide one reasonable baseline for the most basic military diet of Luna’s era.  As can be seen from the table below, distilled principally from detailed records from 1563 and 1576 fleets based in Spain, the average daily diet included just over two-thirds of a kilo of hardtack, just under a third of a kilo of assorted proteins varying in type based on religious requirements, about a liter of wine, small servings of legumes and/or rice, and small amounts of vinegar and olive oil for flavoring and cooking, plus salt, garlic, and other available spices.

Average Daily Spanish Military Rations, Mid-16th-Century
Item	Amt.	Span. Meas.	Amt.	Metric Meas.
Hardtack	24	onzas	0.690	kilograms
Legumes*	0.005	almudes	0.022	liters
Rice	0.229	onzas	0.007	kilograms
Proteins*	10.191	onzas	0.296	kilograms
Wine	0.5	azumbres	1.008	liters
Vinegar	0.053	azumbres	0.107	liters
Olive Oil	0.017	azumbres	0.034	liters
*Legumes included fava beans and chickpeas; proteins included pork, beef, fish, and cheese.

The cooking and serving equipment normally kept on board each ship to prepare these rations was actually quite limited, at least based on inventories found for 1558 and 1575 fleets, and typically included one or two copper cauldrons or kettles, two or three cooking pots (ollas), commonly ceramic but sometimes copper, several spoons of wood, iron, or copper, several axes for splitting firewood, a small number of pitchers and jugs of ceramic or copper for serving wine, and at least as many plates [platos] and bowls [escudillas] as there were crew members, sometimes ceramic but also commonly made of wood.  Shipboard cooking seems clearly to have been dominated by one-pot meals.

The more typical terrestrial diet for 16th-century Spaniards was quite a bit more diverse, and involved a broader range of cooking and serving gear.  My ongoing analysis of the 1560 edition of the Ruperto de Nola cookbook, originally published in 1520 in the Catalán language, provides some preliminary insights that are useful in understanding the material culture of 16th-century dining in Spain.  The recipes in the book include a large number of stews called pottages containing meat and vegetables, eggs, and spices.  Among the most common ingredients in the recipe book are the items in the following table, demonstrating quite a bit of diversity in the Iberian Spanish diet, at least among the most well-to-do families (Nola was the king’s chef).  Even though many of these foods were likely unavailable or rare and expensive in the New World, they at least provide a sense of what “fine dining” might have looked like in Luna’s time.

Type	Item (English)	Item (Spanish)
fruits	grapes	ubas
fruits	oranges	naranjas
fruits	pomegranate	granadas
fruits	quince	membrillos
grains	bread	pan
liquids	honey	miel
liquids	olive oil	aceite
liquids	rose water	agua rosada
liquids	vinegar	vinagre
liquids	wine	vino
nuts	almonds	almendras
nuts	hazelnuts	avellanas
nuts	pine nuts	piñones
proteins	bacon	tocino
proteins	beef	carne
proteins	broth	caldo
proteins	cheese	queso
proteins	chicken	pollo
proteins	eggs	huevos
proteins	goat, kid	cabrito
proteins	goat, milk	cabras, leche de
proteins	hen	gallina
proteins	milk	leche
proteins	ram	carnero
proteins	sheep, milk	ovejas, leche de
spices	cilantro	culantro seco
spices	cinnamon	canela
spices	cloves	clavos
spices	ginger	gingibre
spices	mint	hierba buena
spices	nutmeg	nuezes moscadas
spices	parsley	perejil
spices	pepper	pimienta
spices	saffron	azafran
spices	salt	sal
spices	spices, mixed	especias
spices	sugar	azucar

Based on the texts of Nola’s recipes, the commonly-used cooking containers were pots [ollas] and casserole dishes [cazuelas], along with metal frying pans [sartenes]. Most of these pots and casseroles seem to have been ceramic, though metal (iron) ones were also noted.  There are also references to saucepans [cazos], presumably metal.  All these were normally used directly over fire or hot coals, though oven roasting was also common, and in the absence of ovens this could be replicated over hot coals by lidded casseroles.  Apart from knives and wooden cutting boards, utensils seem mostly wooden, including spoons and sticks for stirring.  Worsted wool/serge was the most common filter for sauces, as well as seives made from bristles.  A list of cooking items explicitly noted in the cookbook is below:

Item (English)	Item (Spanish)
basket	cesta, espuerta
bowl	escudilla
cane stirrer	caña
casserole	cazuela
cauldron	caldera
cloth	paño
cutting board	tajador
feather	pluma
grill	parrillas
jug	cantaro
knife	cuchillo
oven	horno
paddle/spatula	paleta
pan	sarten
paper	papel
plate	plato
pot	olla
rag	trapo
serge fabric	estameña
sieve	cedazo
sieve, silk	tamiz
spit/roaster	asador
spoon	cuchara
stick, wooden	palo de madera
storage jar	tinajuela
string	hilo
washbasin	aljafana

In terms of serving, pottages, stews, and broths were overwhelmingly served in bowls [escudillas] (which are also sometimes used in the cooking process as measuring or mixing containers).  There are also many references to serving on plates [platos], and sometimes larger platters.  His instructions on serving beverages to important personages also makes it clear that the pitcher [jarro] was used to serve water on the table, and drinking cups called copas or tazas were used at the table for drinking liquids.

As an important addition to the above list, while originally based on the Iberian ideal, the dietary regime of Spaniards in New Spain was somewhat more limited in terms of Spanish foods, but also incorporated local foods that were either absent or uncommon in Spain.  Most relevant here, the foods originally transported with Luna’s first fleet represented a mix of both Spanish and New Spanish products, most notably exemplified by the fact that some two thirds of the grain rations that would normally have been exclusively hardtack or bread made from wheat flour in Spain were instead provided in the form of dried corn, amounting to just over 288,000 kilos of dried corn accompanying just under 140,000 kilos of hardtack and wheat flour.  What this meant is that an additional suite of food preparation items were also required for the Luna expedition, including basalt manos and metates used for grinding corn after soaking it in lye to make hominy, wooden trays called bateas used to hold the corn masa before it was made into fresh tortillas, and ceramic griddles caled comales used to cook the tortillas for eating.  As a result, we can add these items to our anticipated set of cooking and serving equipment in each camarada or other residence at the Luna Settlement.

One additional consideration is the fact that the hungry members of the Luna expedition were ultimately forced to rely not just on whatever foods they could scavenge from abandoned Indian villages and camps, but also on edible plants and animals they found in the environs of their settlements at Ochuse (at Pensacola) and Nanipacana (in Alabama).  They may therefore have intentionally equipped themselves with local Native-made pottery and other cooking implements, and perhaps adapted their own equipment for new uses in preparing exotic foods.  An example of this can be found in the Dominican narrative of the expedition, likely authored by fray Domingo de la Anunciación within the volume originally assembled by Agustín Dávila Padilla in 1596.  He described that:

They found some bitter acorns, so bad tasting that even their hunger rejected them, and with all this they found the need to season them so that they could be eaten.  The Spaniards soaked them and put them in saltwater until their bitter flavor was exchanged for the flavor of the salt; then they put them in fresh water so that they would lose their saltiness, and with one bit of knowledge and another that they applied, in the end they could be eaten (Dávila Padilla 1625:200-201).

As noted above, documentary and archaeological evidence confirms that local Indian ceramics were definitely obtained and used by the Luna expedition members, which adds one more dimension to the standard set of cooking and serving equipment we would expect to be present at the locations where each camarada or other residential unit would have lived and dined.

Future Research

Ultimately, unless far more detailed documentary records emerge regarding the exact equipment and supplies carried, owned, and used by the various populations within the Luna expedition, we will have to rely on archaeological data to fill in the details of daily life at the settlement, including who lived where, and how they each struggled to survive under increasingly more dire circumstances between 1559 and 1560.  Doing so, however, will require us to marshal a wide range of documentary and comparative archaeological data to understand the exact relationship between the distribution of broken ceramic cooking and serving vessels and many other traces of human activity on the site, and the actual activities that occurred in and around the locations where these are found, as well as the identities of the people who lived there in the 16th century.  The discussion above is just one piece in that broader puzzle.

*Thanks are due to Elizabeth D. Benchley and Christina L. Bolte for editorial help.

References Cited

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