Slavery and Sociability in a House on the Direita Street in Ouro Preto, Minas Gerais/Brazil, XVIII-XIX Centuries

ABSTRACT

This work aims to interpret the parietal drawings found in the basement of a house on Direita Street in Ouro Preto, assuming they represent a typical example of Gbe people parietal art. The inscriptions would comprise a selection of episodes from the life of an enslaved African woman from the Mina Coast [presently Togo, Benin and Nigeria], aiming to create a mortuary panel dedicated to her memory. The investigation of her life trajectory in Vila Rica, in the Captaincy of Minas, Brazil, has considered the social and economic space of the town between the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, connecting the dwelling houses where the panel was found to the street, parish and village, and to the experiences of Africans in the weaving of relations of subjugation, neighbourhood, friendship and kinship. Extensive and diverse documentation related to the house and its residents was collected, including registrations in the registry office, city council and parish records, foro books of the city council, books of the Ordem Terceira de Nossa Senhora do Carmo [Third Order of Our Lady of Carmel], applications, facilitation processes of priests and tribute records. From this house on Direita Street, the work arrangements and administrative agents, as well as the military neighbourhood, dynamise the urban sociability that underpins an expressive agency and a woman’s diffuse interrelationships.

KEYWORDS:
slavery; parietal art; urban sociability

RESUMO

A pesquisa busca interpretar os desenhos parietais do porão de um sobrado da rua Direita de Ouro Preto, supondo que se trata de um exemplar da arte parietal específica da África ocidental. As inscrições comporiam uma seleção de episódios da vida de uma africana escravizada proveniente da Costa da Mina e visariam a apresentar um painel mortuário dedicado à sua memória. A investigação da sua trajetória, em Vila Rica, no território das Minas, considerou o espaço social e econômico da urbe entre os séculos XVIII e XIX, conectando a morada de casas onde o painel foi encontrado à rua, paróquia e vila das experiências da africana na tessitura das relações de sujeição, vizinhança, amizade e parentesco. Assim, foi coligida ampla e diversificada documentação relacionada ao sobrado do painel e aos seus moradores, como registros cartorários, camarários e paroquiais, livros de foro da Câmara, livros da Ordem Terceira, requerimentos, processo de habilitação sacerdotal, lançamento de tributo. Dessa casa à rua Direita, os tratos de trabalho e a vizinhança dos agentes da administração e dos militares dinamizam a sociabilidade urbana que fundamenta o expressivo agenciamento e a inter-relação difusa das mulheres.

PALAVRAS-CHAVE:
escravidão; arte parietal; sociabilidade urbana

INTRODUCTION

The article presents preliminary results from a collaborative, interdisciplinary project investigating a panel discovered in the basement of a townhouse in the former Vila Rica, now known as Ouro Preto, in Minas Gerais. The research is based on the hypothesis that a selection of images from this collection depicts a mortuary panel commemorating an enslaved African woman from the Mina Coast in West Africa (presently Togo, Benin and Nigeria). This hypothesis arises from the intersection between knowledge of the wall art of the Gbe peoples and the historiography of the enslavement of Africans and Afro-descendants in Vila Rica during the 18th and 19th centuries.

It has two branches of research: one historical, and the other archaeological. The team includes historians Mariza de Carvalho Soares and Francisco Eduardo de Andrade, as well as archaeologist Cláudia Plens.¹ The project was first presented to the public during the celebrations of the 300th anniversary of the Revolta de Vila Rica e da Capitania de Minas Gerais [Vila Rica Revolt and the Captaincy of Minas Gerais], at the first Mostra Multi: Interações da UFOP [UFOP Multi Exhibition: Interactions] (2020). Shortly thereafter, based on the recording of this conference, a video was produced, entitled Os baixos relevos da antiga rua Direita em Ouro Preto [The bas-reliefs of the old Direita Street in Ouro Preto]. It was widely circulated on YouTube.²

Historical research was divided into three segments: the panel itself, the house where it was found, and Direita Street, where the residence is situated. Here, a historical investigation is presented. The initial hypothesis of the project was proposed by Mariza Soares. It was linked to the results of Francisco Eduardo de Andrade’s research on the house at Direita Street and its residents between 1737 and 1844. The sources used for the first section are primarily historiography and iconography related to the Gbe peoples, especially those of the ancient kingdom of Dahomey. For the second and third sections, an extensive and diverse survey of the city’s documentation was conducted (including notarial and municipal records; parish and confraternity records; and tax records). The first part of the text supports and justifies the hypothesis regarding the creation of the panel and the processes behind its development. From this point, the paper presents partial results of the research aimed at examining the historical context and identifying potential subjects related to the production and visualisation of the panel.

These preliminary findings are being shared to make the research work initiated in 2017 publicly accessible in written form. This allows other scholars interested in the topic to review the data, analysis, and conclusions previously shared through various channels, such as the conference titled “Os baixos relevos da antiga rua Direita em Ouro Preto [The bas-reliefs of the old Direita Street in Ouro Preto]” (2020), which resulted in a video released the same year, and the round table discussion “Traçados africanos no patrimônio material de Ouro Preto [African traces in the material heritage of Ouro Preto]” (2021), both of which are recorded and available on YouTube.³

Archaeologist Cláudia Plens is overseeing the second investigative phase, which combines studying the panel with excavating the house’s backyard. This project has completed its initial stage with a report submitted to the Instituto do Patrimônio Histórico Nacional (Iphan). [National Historical Heritage Institute] According to this report, the panel features paintings, graphics, and bas-relief depictions, displayed on a thick whitish mortar applied to the rock wall. The images were processed using Metashape Agisoft and Designer software, allowing for a detailed description of the figures and supporting the conclusions outlined in this article. In the ongoing archaeological work, efforts are being made to date the material from the context in which the panel was created, either through the carbon-14 method or relative dating techniques. All material collected during the excavation of the house’s backyard was sent to the Laboratório de Estudos Arqueológicos [Archaeological Studies Laboratory] at the Federal University of São Paulo for sorting, cleaning, and analysis. The Centro Nacional de Arqueologia [National Archaeology Centre] in Brasília has designated the house at number 134 as the “Sítio CRD - Casa da Rua Direita” [House on Direita Street Site]. Once the analyses are complete, the collection will be deposited and safeguarded at the Federal University of Ouro Preto, and the information sheets will be sent to the Brazilian National Centre for Archaeological Research (Cadastro Nacional de Sítio Arqueológico (Plens, 2025). After finishing the first phase of the archaeological research, the team will reconvene to decide on the next steps in the investigation.

Finally, in response to the critical reader of this text, whom we thank for their careful consideration, we wish to emphasise that, as mentioned earlier, material testing is part of the archaeological research and has yet to be conducted. From a historical perspective, we are confident that the composition of the panel indicates that its creation results from knowledge of a set of narrative strategies shaped by African memory, in contrast with the slave and colonial frameworks. The absence of such tests does not undermine the argument presented; on the contrary, it shows that it was precisely through historical research that a new archaeological perspective on the wall, reinterpreted as a panel, was opened. In the future, it may be possible to obtain precise dating results for the engravings, resolving any doubts about their authenticity. For now, we remain within the realm of hypotheses, as in other research conducted by both historians and archaeologists.

As mentioned earlier, the house number 134 gained prominence in 2017 during a renovation, when a set of intricate engravings was uncovered on one of the basement walls, forming a large figurative panel measuring approximately two square metres (2m x 1m). Confronted with this unexpected discovery, the property owner sought experts to help identify the images. At the invitation of the property’s owners, our research began that same year, shortly after the panel’s existence became public.⁴

The current houses 134 and 138 were originally built as independent single-storey dwellings, with plots extending to what is now Senador Rocha Lagoa Street, running parallel to Bobadela Street. At a date yet to be determined, the plot was subdivided, with half of the rear section passing to other owners (Vasconcelos, 1955, p. 227).⁵ The two two-storey houses facing Bobadela Street kept their backyards but lost access to the rear lane. Later, both properties were renovated and given similar designs: a ground floor, a first floor, and an attic. Despite their similarities, the facades differ, as does the current internal layout of the space.

Throughout the renovations to the two-storey house at number 134, there have certainly been changes to its interior layout. The basement, following the slope of the hill, is below the level of Bobadela Street, aligning with the current Senador Rocha Lagoa Street. At the same level as the basement, separated by a small step, is the backyard of the house, which extends flat to the back wall of the property. Access to the upper floors is now via a recently built internal staircase. Broadly speaking, the architectural configuration follows the usual standards of the second half of the 1700s.⁶ The side walls of the basement, both made of stone, are different. The wall separating houses 134 and 138 was built with irregular stones of varying sizes, indicating a seventeenth-century technique used to renovate the single-storey house when the two-storey building was constructed. The wall bordering the current house at 124 was composed of thin cut stones arranged in layers. Visits to other houses on the street confirmed that their walls use the same construction techniques.

Figure 1
: Current Bobadela Street, houses 138 (left) and 134 (right)

Until the 1730s, earthen and adobe single-storey houses dominated in Vila Rica. From 1735 onwards, the use of stone and lime became more prevalent. Since the urbanisation of Direita Street occurred during this period, it is possible that some buildings were already constructed using stone and had basements. Furthermore, according to 18th-century techniques, stone walls typically feature a mortar covering made of sand, gravel, and lime, with raw clay acting as a binder. This is probably the composition of the thick mortar layer that supports the inscriptions examined here, as mentioned by Cláudia Plens and detailed in her report (Plens, 2025: 4), even without a materials analysis. Some structures also incorporated pieces of wood, brick, and timber between the stones, as seen on the now-exposed basement wall. In the 19th century, this technique remained largely unchanged, which is why dating the wall on which the panel was made is difficult (Costa, 2010: 33-34).⁷

The panel is positioned at the front of the basement side wall, adjacent to house number 138. As light only enters from the opposite side – the rear of the basement, which opens onto the yard – the engravings are poorly illuminated, making them difficult to observe. The inscriptions display a range of techniques and possibly different authors, suggesting that the wall has been subject to various interventions over time (Plens, 2025: 9-19). For the current study, only inscriptions created with an engraver’s chisel (or an equivalent tool) and those showing consistent technique and theme were considered. The selected set includes depictions of animals, people, and a vessel. The connection between the panel and slavery is evident. The initial visitors, whether curious or scholarly, highlighted this theme. In 2019, the history of slavery was further emphasised by the release of a video produced by the newspaper Estado de Minas.⁸

Contrary to this narrative, our discussions since 2020 have demonstrated that, although it is part of the history of African slavery in Brazil, the panel pertains to a period before enslavement. We have endeavoured to emphasise this shift in time and place from the beginning of our research. In essence, the panel centres on the time prior to slavery, the woman’s life in her homeland, and her journey into slavery, without at any point addressing her captivity in Brazil. In this context, a hypothesis was proposed that remains valid today: that the inscriptions are on a mortuary panel, potentially honouring an African woman enslaved on the Mina Coast and brought to Brazil. Considering the panel’s location, it can also be deduced that she lived and died in Ouro Preto or its environs. While her life and death cannot be detailed, it is possible to grasp the importance of this posthumous tribute, probably created at some stage during the 19th century. The reasons for placing the panel in that basement remain unknown. It is possible that this woman resided there, or perhaps the location was chosen because it was easily accessible to the artist who made it or to someone wishing to honour her. Given its position, it can be inferred that the panel was intended to be visible to visitors to the area’s basement.

By combining image analysis with the profile of the Atlantic slave trade, it became possible to link the panel with visual narratives found among Gbe-speaking peoples in West Africa, known in Brazil as Jeje or, more generally, as Mina.⁹ A large influx of Africans from the Mina Coast to Minas Gerais took place in the early decades of gold mining, mainly between 1700 and 1730, with a sharp decline from the 1740s onwards. From the mid-18th century onwards, data on the African presence in Vila Rica already indicate an increase in Africans from West Central Africa (Congo, Angola, and Benguela), as well as Creoles (enslaved African descendants). Although they were clearly a minority throughout the 19th century, the Mina people still stood out within the African population as a whole.¹⁰

Regarding the viability of the proposed hypothesis, we emphasize Vila Rica’s urban sociability and the experiences of slave labor in mining, with a notable presence of Mina people in the city and its surroundings. Naturally, other parts of Africa also feature examples of parietal art, mortuary panels, and depictions of animals and humans. During the first half of the 18^th century slaves working at the gold and diamond mines, mainly came from West Africa (particularly where is presently Togo Benin and Nigeria). After then, the majority of the African slaves came from West Central Africa (presently Angola, Republic of Congo and Democratic Republic of Congo). However, drawing an analogy with representations of the Gbe peoples, who were included in the slave trade routes between West Africa and the captaincy of Minas Gerais, becomes quite consistent upon examination, leading to the conclusion that the visual representations of the Gbe refer to the visual universe explored here. Regarding the honored individual, whose identity we do not know, it is reasonable to suggest that the agent or protagonists involved in creating the panel were well familiar with the Gbe rules for constructing a mortuary panel. The most probable scenario is that this African learned this practice in his homeland or from those originating there, rooted in diasporic memory and a cultural repertoire for creating such a visual work narrative.

Three questions were posed to better support this hypothesis: 1) How can the inscriptions be dated? 2) How can we determine who made them? 3) What is the significance of the panel?¹¹ This text was written in two parts. The first part offers an analysis of the panel from the perspective of conjectural history. It proposes a hypothesis about its creation, based on the visual culture of the Gbe peoples of West Africa, who were traded to Minas Gerais.¹² The second part explores the practices of workers and their housing experiences in Vila Rica’s urban space, especially along Direita Street and within the two-storey house from the slave era, which was frequented by Africans involved in the production of the panel and, perhaps, by the woman honoured in it herself.

ABOUT THE PANEL, STILL A CONJECTURAL HISTORY

The hypothesis examined here is that the engravings on the panel are an example of rock art, with its narrative telling the story of an enslaved African woman. The engravings depict selected episodes from her life, aiming to create a mortuary panel dedicated to her memory. This panel was created under conditions that suggest the deceased was someone important, prominent in the community, either because of her birth or her life during the years of slavery. She was probably an elderly and influential woman who may even have saved some money. (Higgins, 1999: 157).¹³ The panel may have been created shortly after her death or many years later. According to the common practices of converted Africans, this woman likely was buried in accordance with the norms of the Catholic Church. By resting in holy ground, the deceased might have been denied the funerals traditionally provided for by her ancestors, which was concerning both for her and for her ‘patricians’ or ‘kin of the nation’ who took her to the grave.

Christian burial did not prevent this woman and other Africans from being honoured according to their ancestral practices, but adaptations were certainly necessary. Among the Gbe people, post-mortem tributes can be held immediately or years after death, but they are always a strategy to restore the deceased to a prominent place in the community. The choice of the panel reflects the desire for the tribute to be lasting. In Dahomey, some panels are displayed in public spaces for all to see; others are placed in private spaces, visible only to a select few. However, all are designed to ensure the longevity of the tribute and the honoured person. A mortuary panel has particular characteristics: it is always initiated by those who survive the deceased and who uphold the ancestral cultural codes. This also requires qualified individuals skilled in both constructing the narrative to be told and handling the technical aspects. Thus, house 134 fulfilled specific conditions: a deceased person whose story warranted sharing; someone willing to tell it; a narrator who crafted the narrative in accordance with established rules; an appropriate location for its installation; and an artist capable of executing the plan (able to handle, for example, an engraver’s chisel or equivalent tool).¹⁴

There is still no conclusive evidence about this woman’s identity. However, based on the pattern of enslaved Mina people arrivals in Vila Rica, it is likely she could have arrived as early as the first half of the 18th century. Assuming she was about 20 years old in 1740, she could have lived to a venerable age, around 80, in 1800. Several Mina women resided in houses on Direita Street, roaming around and visiting them. Documentary sources connected with the two-storey house identify its inhabitants, as well as the African born and African descendant people from the manor houses, who may have lived in the basement or some enclosure in the backyard. Only one elderly African woman, linked to the family of an early owner of the two-storey house, appears in this documented record. She was a Mina woman named Quitéria, a slave of Caetano Francisco da Costa, estimated to be 70 years old at the time of her master’s death. At this stage of her life, she may have been working on family rural estates, tending crops and vegetable gardens, and performing domestic tasks.¹⁵ If she was traded between the ages of 10 and 20, Quitéria must have arrived in Minas between 1728 and 1738, a period when the Atlantic slave trade between Minas Gerais and the Mina Coast was very active. However, no further references to her have been found to date.

Agents of a rich cultural repertoire, these transplanted Africans had to adapt to the new conditions of slavery and find ways to reorganise themselves, and survive. They maintained close ties through Catholic brotherhoods and houses where they worshipped the voduns of their homeland. Among themselves, they spoke the so-called “Mina’s general language” (Rodrigues & Maia, 2023; Lima, 2025). Ancestor worship and associated funeral rituals were important components of their lives, and in some ways, they must have tried to preserve them. The Mina-Mahi of Rio de Janeiro developed a devotion to the Souls of Purgatory as a way of venerating their ancestors within the Catholic Church. The inscriptions found in Ouro Preto may provide insight into these practices within the context of slavery in Minas Gerais.¹⁶

Based on research into the visual and material culture of the Gbe peoples of Atlantic West Africa, it is possible to connect the Ouro Preto inscriptions to a significant narrative tradition among the eastern Gbe peoples, known in Minas Gerais as Mina peoples. Since the earliest accounts by travellers in the 18th century, there have been mentions of a visual culture among them, especially regarding parietal art as a way of constructing narratives. Even today, these practices continue (Soares, 2022: 215-242).¹⁷ The most well-known example is the ancient kingdom of Dahomey, mentioned earlier. In the Fon language of Dahomey, the expression nu-dide (dide: “to make an image” - do: “wall” - nu: “thing”) means “thing made for the wall”. These ‘things’ can be paintings, bas-reliefs, and appliqués cloths (a type of embroidery) that are hung on walls. In the past, these cloths were woven from raffia, but by the 18th century, imported cotton pieces began to be used.¹⁸ These textiles remain expensive even today and, like the wall panels, are crafted by specialised artisans and artists. When someone passes away, those wishing to honour them commission a cloth illustrating their life story. During the funeral, a spokesperson describes the embroidered figures on the cloth through a song. Afterwards, the fabric is buried with the deceased, and the family preserves the song (Musée Albert-Kahn, 1996: 48-50). To understand the relationships between the images embroidered on the fabric, it is important to know the life story or song – that is, to be familiar with the oral narrative that precedes and informs the construction of the object.

Figure 2
: Reproduction drawing of King Glelé’s funeral cloth (ca. 1889); and photograph of a funeral cloth (ca. 1930) (*)

The panel located in house 134 shows a composition similar to the fabrics shown above: isolated or grouped figures, as if floating in the air, with no apparent connection, guided by a narrative that explains the images. In the Gbe panels, as in the basement, there is a dominance of figurative graphics, including people, animals, plants, and objects. Regardless of the medium or intent, they all present a story that cannot be understood solely through the depicted figures: the images only make sense when accompanied by an oral narrative. In the two clothes, as in the Ouro Preto panel, it is essential to recover the story to understand the images. In the case of the Ouro Preto panel, the story was reconstructed based on knowledge of the context of enslavement and the forced exile to which the transplanted Africans from Mina Coast were subjected.

Regarding the placement of the panel in the basement, it is important to consider that, among the Gbe, ancestor worship is associated with an “architecture of concealment”. Burial sites remained unknown, and even today, the temples where ancestors are worshipped remain closed. There are panels on the outside of these temples, but the mortuary panels are hidden inside (Antongini, 1997: 13). Located on the opposite side of the basement from the light source, the panel can only be seen with artificial lighting, suggesting it was intended for a select few who knew of its existence to observe.¹⁹

Once the issue of the connection between the basement panel and the Gbe panels had been resolved, the second step in this methodological exercise was to examine the Ouro Preto panel. Among the recordings on the panel, created using various techniques and possibly at different times, only the bas-relief images were chosen, which were likely produced by the same individual who could handle an appropriate instrument (a type of engraving tool). It is assumed that the creator envisioned a narrative comprising a preconceived series of images, which included the following numbered engravings: 1 (a group of women), 2 (a bird), 3 (a feline, presumably a leopard), and 9 (a vessel, presumably a slave trade embarkation).

Figure 3
: Panel described in the archaeological research (with numbering of image cut-outs)

No engraved inscriptions were found in Dahomey, indicating that this technique was acquired in Brazil.²⁰ Among the images discovered, several female figures, or the same women in different contexts, stand out. They appear in three scenes: a group, two women at the mortar, and two women on the quarterdeck of a ship. Two animals are depicted: a feline and a bird. In Dahomey, the leopard is the emblem of royalty, while the bird signifies the female figure and ancestry. Finally, the depiction of a tall-masted vessel relates to maritime navigation, specifically the crossing of the Atlantic.

As with the Dahomey panels, the reading direction is from left to right and top to bottom. At the top left, there is a group of women; below them, the feline and the bird; on the right, the vessel with two women on the quarterdeck. The two segments (right and left) depict two periods: on the right, the time before slavery, and on the left, the journey from exile to slavery. The narrative begins in a period of freedom and ends in one of enslavement, without depicting typical scenes of slavery in Minas Gerais. The scene of the women at the mortar signifies an activity common across Africa (pounding corn, sorghum, and, from the 17th century onwards, cassava), not unique to Brazil. The women at the mortar clearly belong to the first set, which corresponds to a time before vessel. What they evoke is life before slavery and its disruption. The third period, characterized by slavery in colonial territories, is not represented in the panel.²¹ Therefore, we consider this to be an African narrative about an individual who crossed the Atlantic. The repeated depictions of women and feminine activities suggest that the person honoured is probably a woman. There are 17 female figures in total (13 women, 2 at a mortar, and 2 on the vessel), clearly emphasising a feminine theme. It is therefore reasonable to conclude that it recounts the life of a woman.

In the first scene, apart from the women, the delineation of the space, created with quadrangular graphics that may depict walls or partitions, draws attention.

This depiction might refer to the mud buildings found within the territory of the Gbe people, where the checkered appearance results from a technique called “cob ball” building, in which walls are constructed from stacks of raw mud balls. The squares also serve as a decorative pattern on walls, possibly inspired by the craquelé effect of the mud walls, and are based on two examples of grid-like wall designs in Dahomey. Among the Gbe peoples, this graphic style (known in art history as a “checkerboard pattern”) appears repeatedly across various contexts and materials.

Figure 5
: Ruins of the royal palace of Abomey, capital of the Kingdom of Dahomey; and the temple of an tohosu, an entity associated with ancestor worship

As the slave trade vessels between Brazil and the Mina Coast varied in type and tonnage, among the most commonly used were sumacas, brigantines, and schooners—small, light vessels that shortened crossing times and consequently reduced mortality and morbidity among the enslaved Africans being transported.²² It might be a coincidence that there were two women pounding grain in a mortar, and two others on the deck of the vessel, or it might be the same two, at the mortar and on the deck.

Figure 6
: Slave trade embarkation with two women on deck (clip 4)

The accuracy of the depiction of a sea vessel suggests that the artist had some knowledge of the subject, either from having crossed the Atlantic himself or from hearing descriptions of the experience. The outline of the vessel in the panel closely matches records in other sources. Two other distinctly different images stand out here, both sharing the same basic features as the vessel depicted in the Ouro Preto panel: the low hull and the two main sails, which characterise all these small vessels that, although little known to the general public, are used to images of larger vessels that transported a more significant number of people, were regularly used in the transatlantic trade of human beings for the rapid transport of small groups. The first is an English engraving entitled Slave-Schooner at Port Royal (1857), and the second is a charcoal inscription found in the territory of Quilombo da Cabaça Diamantina.

Figure 7
: Sailing vessels

Finally, the figure of feline occupies the centre of the panel and, due to its size, deserves special mention. Certainly, there were large felines in the forests of Minas Gerais, but the reference to a jaguar (onça pintada) would be the only mention of Brazil in the panel, which seems unreasonable.

Figure 8
: Feline and long-legged bird (clippings 2 and 3)

It is more plausible to associate this feline with African leopards and their symbolism in Dahomey, where the mothers of the ahosu (a position translated as “king”) are called “leopard wives” (Bay, 1998). Suggesting that the woman honored in the panel was an enslaved kpojito would be a stretch, but it is plausible to link this representation to the powers or experiences of women, both in her homeland and in Minas Gerais, where African and creole women stood out. Nor can we connect this woman with the famous queens of colonial Catholic brotherhoods; instead, we can only observe that the narrative behind the representation must have been very important to the community, which shared the meanings of female agency in the diaspora, whether through experiences in urban slave society or through ancestry in their place of birth.

The analysis of the panel, which examines various ‘signs,’ confirms the validity of the conjecture presented (Ginzburg, 1989: 143-179). The panel follows the core principles of mortuary panel composition observed among the western Gbe peoples brought to Vila Rica/Ouro Preto. In their funerals, it was believed that the rites helped the dead on their journey, and the fabrics and songs ensured the individual would not be forgotten. Therefore, it can be inferred that the panel in the basement depicts the story of a woman’s exile, who, due to the conditions of enslavement and conversion to Catholicism, had only partial funeral rites performed. The panel thus honours her significance. This view highlights her connection to her ancestry, balanced by the silence surrounding her unfortunate enslavement.

Discovering the same visual narrative pattern among various Gbe peoples, not solely among the Daomeans, strongly indicates the importance of this visual language across Africa and the diaspora. Analysis of the Ouro Preto panel suggests that other panels may have been made in Minas Gerais and other regions of the Americas, where Africans from the Mina Coast were prominent. Since many questions remain about the panel and current sources are lacking to support the conjecture, the research has concentrated on better understanding urban sociability in Vila Rica, specifically the lives of those living in house 134 on Direita Street, where the panel was found. The second part of this article explores this aspect. Examining the panel’s context aims to understand who lived in that house over about a hundred years, from the mid-18th century to 1850, in order to grasp how the conditions were created for the gathering of people who made a mortuary panel according to the Gbe tradition and cared for it, as described above.

FROM THE PATH TO DIREITA STREET AT VILA RICA TOWN HALL

Vila Rica’s founding in 1711 established the urban layout that emerged from a network of paths, shortcuts, and trails connecting the settlements and camps between the valley and the gold-mining mountains. These paths effectively formed the core of urban development in the 18th century, becoming the streets and public spaces of the city as the arrival of transplanted Africans increased.²³ This is exemplified by Direita Street (now Bobadela Street), which runs along the gentle slope of Santa Quitéria Hill – convenient for the movement of people and goods — and connected the main church (located below, at the bottom of the hill) with the parish church of Nossa Senhora do Pilar do Ouro Preto more directly to the town’s central square, at the top of the hill. The hill was situated within the territory of this parish, established at its creation, presumably between 1700 and 1703.²⁴ The Santa Quitéria hill bordered the other parish of the village, whose parish church, dedicated to Nossa Senhora da Conceição, in the hamlet of Antônio Dias, was regarded as “the oldest” in the village.²⁵

Around 1710, with population growth, the route between the two parishes and churches became known as the “new pathway”. As this route became more useful for travel, it was referred to as “Rua Nova” [New Street] in the same decade. In 1714, it was described as a “new street that goes from Ouro Preto to the town hall,” located in the square. Two years later, it was mentioned as a “new street in this square, which comes to it from Ouro Preto”.²⁶ This street was very popular for various activities throughout the 18th century and became a place for various trades] and a cobbled street for the public servitude of the residents.²⁷ The square was “a public, flat, spacious place in cities and villages […] for fairs and public games, where people played ring toss, played contoadas [a game involving striking with the shaft of a spear or baton], and bullfighting” (Bluteau, 1720, v. 6: 665-666). Conveniently located at the junction with the square, this well-paved street facilitated access to political and administrative institutions and publicised the powers that be. For its residents, this meant opportunities to gain favours, friendships and advantageous contacts and alliances.

Located atop Santa Quitéria Hill, the square divided the two boroughs and marked the political and administrative centre of Vila Rica. Since the 1710s, the town has been the district’s seat and, from 1721 onwards, the residence of the governors of the captaincy of Minas Gerais. In addition to the town hall, the pillory was erected in the square; nearby, law enforcement officers and notaries sought to establish their residences. The public dimension of the square, becoming the circuit of the agents of the royal administration, the governance of the people, the powerful lords, and the various seekers of state services, stimulated land occupation, densification of neighbourhoods, and the building of new houses and two-storey houses. This square was also frequented by other residents of the village – free poor people, freedmen and captives – as well as workers from various trades. From the 1720s onwards, the new street in the parish of Pilar do Ouro Preto was possibly named Rua Direita [Right Street]. When the urban land was listed in 1737, it was further specified as: rua Direita da casa da câmara [right street of the town hall].²⁸ Over the following decades, with two-storey houses and cobblestones, the route became a symbol of the city’s decorum and the civility of its residents. By then, it had replaced the common notion of a path or recent street associated with ranches.²⁹

In the second half of the 18th century, the central square (known simply as “Praça”) was surrounded by royal and municipal government buildings: the palace of the governor of the captaincy of Minas Gerais, the town hall, the jail and the pillory. Construction of the town hall and the stone-and-lime prison began in 1784. Since the early 1720s, the headquarters of the captaincy’s paid troops had been located in a nearby square on the slope of Santa Quitéria Hill, adjacent to the backyards of the houses on Direita Street. This state administration circuit also included the district’s tax offices, such as the intendancy (and gold foundry) and the provider’s office. (Menezes, 2005: 43-53; Lopes, 1952: 103-251). The temple of the prestigious Third Order of Carmel was built in the last decades of that century, near the square where the old chapel of Santa Quitéria once stood. The white (or whitewashed) slave owners joined this brotherhood, including a significant number of military officers, merchants, miners, and owners of rural properties of Portuguese descent.³⁰

In the central square and surrounding streets – such as Direita Street – where the Justice authorities (ouvidor and corregedor) and magistrates commonly lived, the district court conducted, in addition to ordinary proceedings, court hearings. Several residents frequented the area, including white, black, and mixed-race individuals who submitted petitions or complaints to the authorities, reporting crimes, usurpations, and abuses. The appeals of subordinates, in the central space of the punishment devices (prison and pillory) or in the vicinity of public administration agents. They sought to obtain decisive support for supposedly legitimate rights while accounting for the necessary mediation of prosecutors, lawyers, and patrons in legal disputes and social rights claims.

The political and administrative centre of the urban space was challenged by the more dynamic, spread-out longitudinal commercial activity of the town. It also encountered fraternal sociability, with bonds of neighbourliness, friendship, and kinship creating distinctions and segregation in civil relations and the social rights of residents.

Figure 9
: Map of Vila Rica of Nossa Senhora do Pilar [ca. 1780–1800]

Figure 10
: Central square and Direita Street in the parish of Pilar, 19th century

AGENCY AND NEIGHBOURHOOD OF OURO PRETO PARISH

In 1804, a census was conducted in Vila Rica, revealing the town’s social and economic characteristics, the result of centuries of urban evolution.³¹ Political, administrative, legal, military and ecclesiastical activities were concentrated in the central districts of the urban parishes of Pilar do Ouro Preto and Antônio Dias. However, the proportion of slaves in Ouro Preto’s population was relatively higher than in the other central district, accounting for more than a third of the residents, or 36.19%. Ouro Preto became the most densely populated district in the town: 2,871 individuals – 1,405 men and 1,466 women – out of a total of 8,867 inhabitants, representing 32.38% of the free and enslaved people in the city.³² Among the enslaved population, more than half were men (58%), indicating relative economic prosperity despite the crisis in gold mining. Nonetheless, in Ouro Preto, as well as in the district and neighbourhood of Alto da Cruz, the proportion of women among the enslaved population was the highest in the city (Costa, 1979: 242-243).

The creolisation of the enslaved population was evident since 59.22% of captives were of African descent (creoles and mixed race) and 40.78% were Africans. Among these, 34.54% were from West Central Africa – most of them, 27.21%, came from Angola – and 6.21% were from West Africa , most of them surnamed Mina from Mina Coast .³³ The evident decline in trading from the Mina Coast since the mid-18th century was also reflected in the calculations of enslaved people detailed in post-mortem inventories of the mining territory. In the 19th century, 90% or more of the enslaved Africans listed in the inventories of Minas Gerais originated from West Central Africa (Congo, Benguela, Angola) (Bergad, 2004: 229, fig. 4.10). This clear dominance of West Central Africans indicated a strong connection between Atlantic trade in the Rio de Janeiro marketplace and economic activities in Minas Gerais during the second half of the 18th century and throughout the 19th century (Bergad, 2004: 228-229; Goulart, 1975: 202-217; Florentino, 1997: 37-41)

Figure 4
: Women and building (clip 1)

Political, administrative, legal, military and ecclesiastical activities were concentrated in the central districts of Ouro Preto and Antônio Dias. Men worked as barkeepers, innkeepers, peddlers and sellers of dry goods. They also constituted the majority of business agents, including those involved in wholesale trade (shops and trade in “dry goods”). Women were more involved in the food supply business, working both inside the home and on the streets (Costa, 1979: 253-254). Dona Joaquina Rosa do Sacramento was the only woman in the household, the head of the household, who had a shop selling “dry and wet goods”. Much more widespread were the agencies of Rita Maria, a white woman who lived “from her agency” and employed her Creole slave and captive children in “domestic service”, or of the Creole Vitoriana Maria do Carmo, who lived in a rented house in the Cabeças district and lived “from her agency of selling produce from the land”.³⁴ Greengrocery, a very significant activity among women, was a means of livelihood for freed black women, creoles and mestizos. One example was Maria Teixeira, a freed black Mina woman who lived on the hillside of Ouro Preto (between the main church and Direita Street), whose slave, who had come from Angola, was also a greengrocer. In a neighbouring house, very close by, lived Tereza Mina, another Mina and black female greengrocer.³⁵

Poor free men and forros [freedmen] engaged in all of the more specialised craft occupations that demonstrated clear economic activity and commercial influence (shoemakers, tailors, carpenters, blacksmiths, tinsmiths, bricklayers, saddlers, locksmiths). Both free and enslaved women participated, in a more discreet yet still effective manner, in urban productive activities deemed profitable: household services (cooks); small-scale trade in foodstuffs (greengrocers, bakers, confectioners); sales or crafts (seamstresses, spinners, weavers, lacemakers); provision of specific services (washerwomen, midwives); gold panning or mining (activities employing about a quarter of female workers); and, finally, vegetable farming (horticulture, small farms, and smallholdings). Enslaved women were particularly notable as cooks, greengrocers, and gold miners (Costa, 1979: 252-254).

In the district of Ouro Preto, in addition to neighbours who held ecclesiastical or military positions or were linked to the municipal and royal administration, merchants stood out, including traders, shop owners, sellers of dry and/or wet goods, and greengrocers. According to the 1804 demographic census, Urban commerce was concentrated in the districts of Ouro Preto and Cabeças, both in the parish of Pilar, including the popular produce trade, which was almost exclusively female and involved a significant number of enslaved women. Furthermore, various urban officials and workers, who were dependent on the urban market, made up the streets and districts of this parish more than in other districts. Notably, houses belonged to shoemakers, tailors, woodworkers, carpenters, musicians, shop assistants, cooks, laundresses, bricklayers, barbers and hairdressers, blacksmiths, saddlers, painters, and apothecaries (Costa, 1979: 257-260).

Free women, more than men of the same status, tended to share productive activities with enslaved people. In the 1804 census, which certainly aimed to designate occupational variation or combined activities (perhaps requiring the employment of enslaved workers), it was considered that the female worker “lives from her agency”.³⁶ The employment of slaves as newspaper sellers (or for profit), commonly on the streets or according to market arrangements, was more widespread than the few mentions of this work in households. For example, Dona Clara Maria de Jesus, a white widow living in the parish of Conceição de Antônio Dias, who owned three slaves, “lived off the wages of her slaves”. In the parish of Pilar, Francisca Romana de Oliveira, a mixed-race widow and mother of five children, owned four male slaves who were occupied “in delivering newspapers,” in addition to four female slaves whom she kept “to serve the house.” Six forras [freed women] also lived in this household.³⁷ Women, particularly those with low incomes, used to participate in productive household tasks or organise for the family’s livelihood.³⁸ In the urban areas of the captaincy of Minas, where small slave holdings (ranging from one to five captives) were common, even the masters and mistresses certainly had to engage in some activity essential for their personal sustenance or that of their families.³⁹

The neighbourly relations on Direita Street, a thoroughfare that embodied urban civility, centred around networks of friendship and kinship, and fostered a promising conviviality and a ballast of various deals, commitments, assistance, and favours. The symbolic and material value of the street’s renowned neighbourhood was especially advantageous for residents of the stretch between the square and the bridge, next to the Nossa Senhora do Pilar do Ouro Preto main church, a route favourable to commercial deals and urban trades between the 18th and 19th centuries. The street provided a direct link between Praça da Câmara and the government palace and the parish church of Our Lady of Pilar the patron saint of the town), where the inauguration ceremonies of government officials and important public religious rites, such as the Corpus Christi procession and the popular festivities of Holy Week, usually took place (Oliveira, 2016: 119, 129). Near this central square residents still lived close to the capital’s military barracks on one side, and the church of the Third Order of Carmel on the other. In the early 1760s, this neighbourhood was home to shopkeepers, merchants (“who live off their businesses” or have business premises), vendors, shop assistants (from shops or dry and/or wet goods retailers), lawyers, notaries, clerks, justice officials, shoemakers, barbers, tinsmiths, hairdressers, swordsmiths, turners, blacksmiths, and a midwife.⁴⁰

THE TWO-STOREY HOUSE ON DIREITA STREET

The two-storey house with two balconies where the panel is located was the home of Caetano Francisco da Costa, a married Portuguese man from Pico Island in the Azores, who worked as a solicitor and attorney for the town hall.⁴¹ In the mid-18th century, perhaps spurred by expectations of friendship or alliance in the neighbourhood of Direita Street Caetano acquired the house belonging to the Veríssimo Dias Teixeira.⁴² The renovated house sheltered his family “and their belongings” probably between the 1750s and 1770s.⁴³

Since 1752, Caetano had served as a second lieutenant in the Itatiaia parish ordinance company. He was promoted to assistant of the Ordenanças de Pé [Foot Ordinance, a form of infantry] of Vila Rica in 1758.⁴⁴ He became a Carmelite brother in 1753 and, between 1758 and 1769, was elected procurator and secretary of the Third Order of Carmel.⁴⁵ His wife, Dona Micaela Clara da Visitação e Mello, who may have known how to read and write, joined the sodality three years before her husband and held leadership positions in the Order until 1772.⁴⁶ Since the mid-1700s, the trajectories of the emigrant couple reveal a progressive social consolidation endorsed by their new home. The plot of land on which Caetano built his house was the same size as the former owner’s property, measuring 1.5 fathoms (3.30 metres) wide. The plot extended from Direita Street to the rear, where the barracks were located, with a depth of approximately 60 metres. Most of the land was then occupied by the backyard.⁴⁷

Caetano renovated the old building on an unknown date. It was a single-storey house, as was common in the first half of the 18th century. By building a two-storey house, which symbolised the family’s desired social status, he was able to accommodate his growing family. The couple had five children, and in 1788, when Caetano died, the family had nine slaves and an urban property that was described in the inventory: “a property of houses located on Direita Street in this town, which start with the houses of The Carmel Order, where Captain Antônio José de Abranches lives [as a tenant], and with the houses of Ana Joaquina [Felícia]”.⁴⁸ The enslaved individuals were listed as follows: With an estimated age of 45, José Crioulo had “a wound on his left shin”; Joaquim Angola, 25, who was “well-proportioned and worked as a weeder”; Maria Mina with an estimated age of 35, a cook and laundress; Juliana, a mulatto woman, with an estimated age of 30, who complained of many ailments; Ana, mixed race, 30 years old and “a seamstress, lacemaker, ironer and skilled in all other women’s crafts” (the most valuable slave in this household); Feleciana was Ana’s daughter, aged 11, and was “learning lace-making and all other women’s crafts.” Miguel was from Angola, aged around 25, and “worked as a weeder and woodcutter.” The family also had a rural property, where there was a main house, barns and slave quarters, and where two elderly captives lived, supposedly unfit for work: Quitéria Mina, estimated to be 70 years old, a “very old Mina woman with no teeth,” and Joaquim Benguela, about 55 years old, “with somewhat swollen feet,” suffering from a disease called bouba [yaws].⁴⁹ Certainly, this estate produced foodstuffs, vegetable garden, and orchard that supplied the urban house. The two resident African slaves considered unfit for urban labour due to old age and illness, seemed to enjoy relative rest in the estate’s slave quarters.

Around 1767, Caetano purchased a property near the old family townhouse on Direita Street, a large house with “two storeys, a tower, a garden, and running water”.⁵⁰ At least two military officers – Lieutenant Bernardo Teixeira (Alves) and Second Lieutenant Bernardo Antônio Crioulo – rented this small house near the barracks or some of its rooms, both paying the same monthly rent (three-eighths of gold) for periods of one year and six months.⁵¹

Caetano and his son, the secular clergyman José Caetano da Costa, requested loans to buy a large townhouse on Direita Street, which provided the necessary assets for priestly ordination. Caetano was the guarantor for the loan his son requested from the orphan court in 1780. To secure the loan, he mortgaged the old property, “a dwelling with houses and a yard,” and due to the outstanding debt, it was offered for sale at a “public auction in the town square”. The house was rented out or perhaps occupied by the family’s slaves. By 1793, it had fallen into a state of “considerable disrepair” and was sold at a discount to Francisca Custódia do Pillar.⁵² Supposedly, she lived with her mother and sisters in the adjoining townhouse.

Francisca Custódia was the daughter of Ana Joaquina Felícia, who lived in the house adjacent to the auctioned property (now number 138).⁵³ In the list of residents of Direita Street from 1764, it was mentioned that Ana Joaquina, whose name was Ana Maria Joaquina, “lives off her agency”.⁵⁴ The plots (of land) of the two houses were the same size (1,5 fathoms) and their backyards extended to the path behind. In 1819, Ana Joaquina’s house, adjacent to the townhouse that Francisca had purchased, required some reconstruction, as the appraisers concluded that the house had “damage from rotten wood.”⁵⁵ The resident inherited the casas de sobrado (two-storey houses) built in the 1750s from her mother, Custódia da Costa Braga. Custódia was a landowner who paid for the building costs but ended up in debt.⁵⁶ According to the 1804 census, Ana Joaquina da Costa Braga, still bearing her mother’s surname, declared ownership of 17 slaves, including six Angola and one Benguela.

Francisca, despite owning the house next door, was listed, along with two sisters, in the household led by her mother, indicating a close connection and mutual support between these residents of the two similar households.⁵⁷ This female resident’s core dates back to the efforts of Francisca Custódia’s grandmother.⁵⁸

Records from 1804 indicate that Francisca had already owned the neighbouring house since 1793. In other words, for more than 10 years. Perhaps this was the time spent renovating the property, which also required negotiations with the neighbours of the adjoining houses. According to reports, the resident paid for the construction of “half the wall” that bordered the Tertiary Order’s house.⁵⁹ Certainly, there were other renovations or reconstructions of dividing walls, especially on the upper floors. The parishioner joined the Third Order of Carmel like other honourable women from the prestigious street.⁶⁰ Dona Francisca lived in the townhouse on Direita Street for 40 years until her death in 1842. She was the mother of three daughters - also called “donas”. If her neat handwriting is any indication, she was literate. About two years after the elderly lady’s death, her post-mortem inventory described a modest fortune, which included the townhouse on Direita Street and a Creole slave named Raimundo, a 33-year-old. However, the adornment of the rooms and the furniture preserved in the house suggest that Dona Francisca embraced nineteenth-century politeness and clearly engaged in the process of “interiorisation of sociability” within the domestic sphere (Borrego, 2025: 51-52). She owned 14 paintings “large” and “small; a “large hall mirror”; two “flower vases”; “a tray from India”; a “rosewood chair with a backrest”; a “white wood” chair with a backrest; candlesticks, a silver salver and cutlery (including three “small tea spoons”); a dining table; a large chest of drawers; a dressing table; and, finally, a wastepaper basket. These items suggest a desire for a more refined urban lifestyle sociability.⁶¹ This type of domesticity differed from that practised in Caetano Francisco’s family, which, being more connected to street life, combined the agency of female expertise, the role of a local law enforcement officer, the provision of shelter for military personnel, and the accommodation or workplace for enslaved individuals.

In short, the current house at number 134 was likely originally a single-storey building belonging to the former leaseholder of the land and owner of the dwelling, Veríssimo Dias Teixeira (or Ferreira).⁶² Possibly in the 1740s, Veríssimo traded (or sold) the property, passing it on to Caetano Francisco, who built his family’s two-storey house there. In 1780, after being offered as collateral for a loan, the property was auctioned off and, after falling into disrepair, was purchased in 1793 by Francisca Custódia, whose mother and grandmother had been neighbours of Caetano and Dona Micaela.

Table 1
: Title chain for the three adjacent properties

Date and registration	138	134	124
1764: Land tax and surtax (*)	Ana Maria Joaquina (lives off her agency)	Caetano Francisco da Costa (town hall solicitor)	Manoel Varela da Fonseca (notary public)
1772: Land registry	heirs of Custódia da Costa Braga	Caetano Francisco da Costa (**)	Sebastião Francisco Bandeira
1789: Post-mortem inventory of Caetano Francisco da Costa	Ana Maria Joaquina (daughter of Custódia Braga)	Micaela Clara da Visitação and heirs of Caetano Francisco da Costa	Third Order of Carmel
1812: Register of rents	Ana Joaquina Felícia (Ana Maria Joaquina), nº 652	Francisca Custódia do Pillar, nº 653 (daughter of Ana Joaquina)	Third Order of Carmel, n/c.

• APM, CMOP, Tax assessment and collection records, codex 82, 1764, f. 18; book of town hall records, 1772, codex 97, p. 210. AHMI, 1st Office, post-mortem inventory, 1788, codex 29, record 328; 1st Office, civil libel, codex 197, record 2742, 1756. APMOP, Livro dos tombos, nº 151, 1806-1812, f. 136.
• (*) Refers to the identification of residents for tax purposes.
• (**) Veríssimo Dias Teixeira was the owner and previous leaseholder, registered in the first book of the land registry of the Vila Rica council (1737).

CONCLUSIONS

Research into the history of the building and its first residents on the former Direita Street, now number 134, between the mid-18th century and the 1840s, does not allow us to answer two of the three initial questions posed by the project: 1) When were the inscriptions made? 2) Who were their authors? A conjecture was made about the third question regarding the meaning of the panel, but the answer given is speculative, and its reasoning is linked to the two previous answers. However, during this period of the African diaspora in Minas, the outlines of the specific interpretation of the engravings on the basement wall were defined. The study made it possible to understand the sociability and practices of coexistence in urban contexts, such as parishes, streets, and homes, which were central to the panel’s material presence and tangible nature.

Therefore, the research aimed to examine urban sociability, focusing on the parish of Pilar in Ouro Preto, particularly Direita Street. Due to its location in the city, this street was one of the most prestigious, inhabited by individuals connected to the town’s political and administrative authorities. However, it was also home to a poor population, both enslaved and free, who fulfilled the needs of residents across various sectors and provided services to the entire city. To better understand their existence, it is essential to consider not only the street where these individuals perform various functions, but also their homes. There remains much to be researched about the enslaved population of Direita Street in Vila Rica, latter the city of Ouro Preto.

The two-storey house at number 134 currently has three doors: one providing access to the ground floor and the other two leading to the shop facing the hillside street, with the floor raised on the west side to match the slope. Its previous configuration is unknown. The foundations and pillars of the basement of the single-storey house were likely reinforced when other floors and sections of the house were added. In the townhouse, the basement offered access to the backyard, the shop, or the first floor. The basements, which are the spaces between the street-level floor and the backyard, served various purposes, including storage, craft activities, shelter for the house’s slaves, and even as venues for social events.⁶³

The backyards of the houses on Direita Street extended to the path or street at the rear, where the barracks were located. It is estimated that they had an internal area of about 200 square metres at that time. The land where house number 134 now stands measures 98.40 m², which is half the size of the original parcel, according to the owner. Until an unspecified date, the front of the house faced Direita Street, while the back opened onto the square in front of the barracks. In the yard, the shop, and the cellar, people moved about and worked; little is known about them, but it can be assumed that among the enslaved and freed workers, there were individuals involved in the production of the panel studied here.

In the 1800s, the description of Francisca Custódia’s domestic furniture reveals changes in the social interactions and customs of the residents of the two-storey house built in the latter half of the 1700s. It served as both a residence and a workplace, linked to the street, neighbouring houses, the barracks, the central square, and religious temples. However, in Francisca’s home, female agency was associated with stronger, more refined internal domestic relations. Like Caetano’s wife, the resident organised income-generating activities that were typical of women’s skills.

In fact, grocery trading and textile crafts, important activities in local production, were the livelihoods of black, creole, and mixed-race women. For example, Maria Teixeira and Tereza, greengrocery vendors who lived on Direita Street, were both Mina women. Although they worked in the street, they prepared food and managed sales at home. These activities, commercial or otherwise, were usually concentrated in cellars and backyards, rather than within the social space of the house. While it was possible to identify the residents of the common areas of the house, it remains a challenge to recognise those who worked and lived in the backyards, cellars, or huts (cabanas) that were probably built in the large backyards of the manor houses (and, in this case, when the enslaved were married).⁶⁴ Since the 1790s, the adjoining townhouses have remained within the same family network: the current 138 passed from Custódia Braga, a natural daughter baptised in the parish of Itatiaia, to her daughter, Ana Joaquina; and the current 134 was acquired by Francisca Custódia, Ana Joaquina’s daughter. The material and symbolic investment of the grandmother, linked to neighbourhood housing on Direita Street and within the parish, was well utilised by Dona Francisca, a member of the Ordem Terceira do Carmo de Vila Rica [Third Order Carmelite of Vila Rica], whose social recognition is evidenced by her reputation as a godmother to children. Further research may reveal more information about this family, as well as the activities of these three generations of women and others associated with them through service or slavery.

West Africans, known as Mina constituted about 6% of the enslaved population of Vila Rica, according to the 1804 census. For the most part, they were survivors of the vigorous slave trade of the 18th century. However, they are the ones who matter here: the elders, custodians of the group’s memory and the last capable of recounting and preserving their traditions. Caetano’s post-mortem inventory (1788) offers a glimpse into the life of Quitéria Mina, who was then estimated to be 70 years old. She had lost her teeth and was considered “very old,” which is why she was left at the estate where Joaquim Benguela also lived. Some younger individuals could also understand or recognise the visual representations of this memory, such as the cook (and likely the greengrocer) at the house on the street, Maria Mina, and the greengrocers in the neighbourhood.

This research focuses on the panel that occupies the side wall of the basement of the current two-storey house number 134, which is shared with house number 138. The former has been renovated and is currently undergoing the regularisation process with IPHAN (the National Institute of Historic and Artistic Heritage). Meanwhile, the latter is in a serious state of disrepair and at risk of collapse.

It is assumed that damage to property 138 will lead to the destruction of the panel, as both houses share the same wall. The city of Ouro Preto is renowned for maintaining its historical heritage and holds the status of UNESCO World Heritage Site. Therefore, it is essential to emphasise the significance of the spaces occupied by the enslaved population of the ancient city. From the perspective of urban domestic or neighbourhood sociability, the basements and remains of buildings in the remaining backyards are notable. Among these, the basement of the two-storey house at 134 is particularly significant due to its prominent location. The panel presented here, a valuable remnant of the subordinate classes, warrants a strong policy to preserve the urban spaces of coexistence and sociability for enslaved and freed black and mixed-race people, to avoid the irreplaceable loss of a vital material heritage of African peoples in Brazil and their own history.

Finally, we must acknowledge Gayatri Spivak’s (2010) question: ‘Can the subaltern speak?’ We know they can, which is why the research continues.

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• FRANCO, Renato. A piedade dos outros: O abandono de recém-nascidos em uma vila colonial, século XVIII. Rio de Janeiro: EdFGV, 2014.
• GINZBURG, Carlo. Sinais: raízes de um paradigma indiciário. In: GINZBURG, Carlo. Mitos emblemas e sinais: Morfologia e história. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1989. p. 143-179.
• GOULART, Maurício. A escravidão africana no Brasil: Das origens à extinção do tráfico. 3. ed. São Paulo: Editora Alfa-Ômega, 1975.
• GUIMARÃES, Carlos Magno. "Esclavitud, rebeldia y arte". Contribuciones al Estudio del Arte Rupestre Sudamericano. Arte rupestre colonial y republicano de Bolivia y paises vecinos, n. 3, p. 212-219, jul. 1992.
• HIGGINS, Kathleen J. "Licentious liberty" in a Brazilian gold-mining region: Slavery, gender, and social control in eighteenth-century Sabará, Minas Gerais. Pennsylvania State University, 1999.
• KLINK, Leonardo Lopes Villaça. Mãos e traços na parede: Os baixo-relevos em um contexto de escravidão como subsídios ao estudo da trajetória, da presença e da lembrança africana, Ouro Preto/MG (séculos XVIII-XIX). SAECULUM - Revista de História, v. 28, n. 49, p. 263-283, jul./dez. 2023.
• Le HÉRISSÉ, Auguste. L'ancien royaume du Dahomey: mœurs, religion, histoire. Paris: Émile Larose, 1911.
• LIBBY, Douglas Cole. A culture of colors: Representational identities and Afro-Brazilians in Minas Gerais in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Luso-Brasilian Review, v. 50, n. 1, p. 26-52, 2013.
• LIMA, Ivana Stolze. Antônio, escrivão português e Rita, africana do Benim: Essa não é uma história de amor. Rio de Janeiro: 7 Letras, 2025.
• LOPES, Francisco Antônio. Câmara e Cadeia de Vila Rica. Anuário do Museu da Inconfidência, 1952, p. 103-251.
• MAIA, Moacir. De reino traficante a povo traficado: A dia´spora dos coura´s do Golfo do Benim para Minas Gerais (Ame´rica portuguesa, 1715-1760). Rio de Janeiro: Arquivo Nacional, 2022.
• MATHIAS, Herculano Gomes. Um recenseamento na capitania de Minas Gerais. Vila Rica, 1804. Rio de Janeiro: Arquivo Nacional, 1969.
• MENESES, Jose´ Newton Coelho. Pa´tio cercado por a´rvores de espinho e outras frutas, sem ordem e sem simetria: O quintal em vilas e arraiais de Minas Gerais (se´culos XVIII e XIX). Anais do Museu Paulista, v. 23, n. 2, p. 69-92, jul./dez. 2015.
• MENEZES, Ivo Porto de. Os palácios dos governadores em Ouro Preto. Cadernos de Arquitetura e Urbanismo, v. 12, n. 13, p. 39-58, dez. 2005.
• MUSÉE ALBERT-KAHN. Pour une reconnaissance africaine: Dahomey 1930. Département des Hauts-de-Seine: Musée Albert Khan, 1996.
• OLIVEIRA, Monalisa Pavonne. Fé e distinção: Um estudo da dinâmica interna e do perfil de irmãos da Irmandade do Santíssimo Sacramento da Igreja Matriz de Nossa Senhora do Pilar do Ouro Preto (século XVIII). Tese (Doutorado em História) - Universidade Federal de Juiz de Fora, Juiz de Fora, 2016.
• PACHECO, Bruno. Os baixos relevos da antiga rua Direita em Ouro Preto Disponível em: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oni4E_rWQY&t=1267s Acesso em: 15 dez. 2024.
  » https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oni4E_rWQY&t=1267s
• PEREIRA, Edithe et al. Possíveis práticas rituais nas cavernas com arte rupestre de Rurópolis (Pará). Revista Habitus, v. 14, n. 1, p. 6, 2016.
• PLENS, Cláudia R. Relatório de pesquisa: A presença africana no patrimônio material de Ouro Preto, Minas Gerais. Gravuras afro-brasileiras em Ouro Preto, MG. Relatório encaminhado ao Instituto do Patrimônio Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro em agosto de 2025. Pesquisa arqueolo´gica autorizada a partir do Processo IPHAN n. 01514.000718/2021-10, Portaria n. 68, de 25 de novembro de 2022.
• REIS, João José. Rebelião escrava no Brasil: A história do levante dos malês em 1835. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2003.
• RODRIGUES, Aldair; MAIA, Moacir. Sacerdotisas voduns e rainhas do Rosário: Mulheres africanas e Inquisição em Minas Gerais (século XVIII). São Paulo: Chão Editora, 2023.
• SAID, Edward. Permission to narrate. Journal of Palestine Studies, v. 13, n. 3. p. 34, 1984.
• SLENES, Robert W. Na senzala, uma flor: Esperanças e recordações na formação da família escrava: Brasil sudeste, século XIX. Campinas: Editora da Unicamp, 2011.
• SOARES, Mariza de Carvalho (org.). Rotas atlânticas da diáspora africana: Entre a Baía do Benim e o Rio de Janeiro. Niterói: EdUFF, 2007.
• SOARES, Mariza de Carvalho. African barbeiros in Brazilian Slave Ports: A Case Study from Rio de Janeiro. In: CAÑIZARES-ESGUERRA, Jorge; CHILDS, Matt D.; SIDBURY, James. (ed.). The Black Urban Atlantic in the Age of the Slave Trade. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 2013. p. 207-230.
• SOARES, Mariza de Carvalho. Diálogos Makii de Francisco Alves de Souza: M anuscrito de uma congregação católica de africanos Mina, 1786. São Paulo: Chão Editora, 2019.
• SOARES, Mariza de Carvalho. A coleção Adandozan do Museu Nacional: Brasil-Daomé 1818-2018. Rio de Janeiro: Mauad, 2022.
• SPIVAK, Gayatri Chakravorty. Pode o subalterno falar? Belo Horizonte: UFMG, 2010.
• TEIXEIRA, Vanessa Cerqueira. A quebra dos grilhões: Devoção mercedária e crioulização em Minas Gerais (1740-1840). Belo Horizonte: Páginas Editora, 2022.
• TRINDADE, Cônego Raimundo. Instituições de igrejas no bispado de Mariana Rio de Janeiro: Ministério da Educação e Saúde, SPHAN, 1945.
• TRINDADE, Cônego Raimundo. Arquidiocese de Mariana. Subsídios para a sua história. 2. ed. Belo Horizonte: Imprensa Oficial, 1953.
• VASCONCELLOS, Sylvio de. Vila Rica: Formação e desenvolvimento, residências. São Paulo: Perspectiva, 1977.
• VASCONCELLOS, Sylvio de. Arquitetura no Brasil: Sistemas construtivos. Belo Horizonte: UFMG, 1979.
• VASCONCELOS, Salomão de. Os primeiros aforamentos e os primeiros ranchos de Ouro Preto. Revista do Serviço do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico Nacional, n. 5, p. 241-257, 1941.
• VASCONCELOS, Salomão de. Como nasceu Ouro Preto: Sua formação cadastral desde 1712. Revista do Instituto do Patrimônio Histórico e Artístico Nacional, v. 12, p. 171-232, 1955.
• VELOSO, Tércio. Terrenos urbanos: Os aforamentos da sesmaria da câmara de Vila Rica e a sociedade mineira setecentista (1711-1809). Tese (Doutorado em História) - Universidade Federal de Ouro Preto, Mariana, 2018.
• VERGER, Pierre. Fluxo e refluxo: Do tráfico de escravos entre o Golfo do Benin e a Bahia de Todos os Santos dos séculos XVII a XIX. (1968). São Paulo: Corrupio, 1987.
• VERGER, Pierre. Dieux d'Afrique. Paris: Éditions Revue Noire, 1995.

• DATA AVAILABILITY STATEMENT:
  The complete dataset supporting the results of this study has been published in the article itself.
• 1
  Mariza de Carvalho Soares’ research is part of her CNPq research grant project. Francisco Eduardo de Andrade is conducting his research as part of the project Espaço urbano das Minas Gerais: negócios e tratos da escravidão na rua Direita de Vila Rica, 1772-1812 [Urban space in Minas Gerais: slavery business and deals on Direita Street in Vila Rica, 1772-1812], with the support of the Federal University of Ouro Preto (UFOP). Archaeology is being handled by archaeologist Cláudia Regina Plens, who is responsible for the authorising process Iphan 01514.000718/2021-10, ordinance 68, dated November 25, 2022.
• 2
  Bruno Pacheco. Os baixos relevos da antiga Rua Direita em Ouro Preto [The bas-reliefs of the old Direita Street in Ouro Preto]. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oni4E_rWQY&t=1267s. Accessed on: December 15, 2024.
• 3
  In 2023, an academic article was published that revisits our data and research conclusions. Because it refers to our dissemination interventions, the text does not do justice to the scope of the analysis already carried out (Klink, 2023: 263-283).
• 4
  This ongoing research has been supported by Mr Philipe Passos, son of the property owner, Ms Cecília Versiani Passos. The first visit to the basement, which gave rise to this project, took place in 2017 at the recommendation of Professor Luiz António Souza (School of Fine Arts, UFMG).
• 5
  We used Google Maps to reconstruct the current block, which has served as a reference for restoring the houses on the street.
• 6
  “By the end of the 18th century, balconies started to dominate the façade, overshadowing the blind sections, which were reduced to nearly a single upper strip above the lintels, complemented by another lower strip beneath the window sills” (Vasconcellos, 1977: 191).
• 7
  According to Vasconcellos’ classification (1979: 27-29), this would be a “canjicada” wall, a technique that interlaces stones of different sizes for constructing houses and walls.
• 8
  Obra revela “cenas africanas” em porão de Ouro Preto; escravo pode ser autor [Work reveals “African scenes” in a basement in Ouro Preto; slave may be the author]. Estado de Minas, Belo Horizonte, 29 September 2019. Available at: https://www.em.com.br/app/noticia/gerais/2019/09/29/interna_gerais,1088821/obra-revela-cenas-africanas-em-porao-de-ouro-preto-escravo-pode-s.shtml. Accessed on: 15 Dec. 2024.
• 9
  Regarding the slave trade on the Mina Coast. Verger (1987); Soares (2007).
• 10
  See Bergad (2004) and Maia (2022) for a general survey based on inventories from Minas Gerais.
• 11
  Regarding the dating of rock paintings in Brazil, see: Pereira et al. (2016, p, p. 6).
• 12
  Establishing a link between the Gbe people and the panel is difficult because, in historiography or art history, there are no documented cases of other African groups traded to Brazil producing similar panels.
• 13
  On the roles and social mobility of Mina African women in Minas Gerais, see: Faria (2000: 89-91); Rodrigues; Maia (2023).
• 14
  Edward Said (1984: 34) argues that facts lack a narrative in order to be absorbed and circulated among people. To define this situation, he uses the expression “permission to” narrate”.
• 15
  Arquivo Histórico do Museu da Inconfidência [AHMI] [Historical Archive of the Museum of the Inconfidência], 1st Official Letter, box 29, file 328, 1788, post-mortem inventory, Caetano Francisco da Costa.
• 16
  The vocabulary of Mina’s general language (circa 1740) is well documented, with António da Costa Peixoto providing a vocabulary to facilitate communication between masters and Africans. A more accessible source to consult this work is the publication by Yeda Pessoa de Castro (2002). See: Rodrigues; Maia (2023). Regarding Rio de Janeiro, see: Soares (2019).
• 17
  See the wall of the Yemadjé family’s sewing workshop, which has produced applied fabrics since the late 18th century. Available at: https://wikivisually.com/wiki/Zagnanado. Accessed on: 2 April 2024. Also see Pierre Verger’s photographs of the Zomadonu temple, particularly the checkered wall, images 139 and 140 (Verger, 1995).
• 18
  The oldest known cloth is the war flag sent by King Adandozan to Prince Regent Dom João in 1810 (Soares, 2022, p, p. 127–158).
• 19
  The research examines who produces and who observes rock art (Pereira et al., 2016, p, p. 6).
• 20
  The panel from house 134 shows no visible colors. Archaeological research should uncover potential traces of pigments. In Dahomey, cotton fabrics often use colors extensively. There are no examples of raffia fabrics to confirm the use of dyes during that period.
• 21
  This absence is also seen in other slavery narratives, where this period is often left out. A clear example is the story of Francisco Alves de Souza, who identified himself as mina-makii (or mahi). He mentions the Mahi people in his homeland and, before enslavement, briefly shares his experience as a slave, then continues by describing his life and his “Nation kin” in Rio de Janeiro after his manumission (Soares, 2019).
• 22
  According to the Transatlantic Slave Trade Database sumacas, patachos, escunas and saveiros were all two sail vessels. They transported a smaller number of people, but could sail faster than larger vessels, resulting in lower mortality and morbidity rates.
• 23
  See: Vasconcelos (1941, p, p. 241-257).
• 24
  See: Trindade (1945, p, p. 213).
• 25
  According to Trindade (1953, v, v. 1, p. 67), the date of creation of the parish of Nossa Senhora da Conceição de Antônio Dias [Our Lady of Conception of Antonio Dias] is unclear; nevertheless, the chaplain of the hamlet church had certainly been serving as parish priest since the 1700s Arquivo Histórico Ultramarino [AHU], Projeto Resgate [Overseas Historical Archive, Resgate Project] Minas Gerais, box 20, doc. 34, Request […] of the brotherhoods located in the parish of Antônio Dias [before 1732].
• 26
  Municipal officials identified the route in 1712 as follows: ‘a new road that runs from Ouro Preto to Antônio Dias’. Another way of describing the same route was “a new pathway that goes from Ouro Preto to Antônio Dias before reaching Pelourinho, facing the hill of Mestre de Campo [Pascoal da Silva Guimarães], starting at a ranch owned by a freed black woman”. Arquivo Público Mineiro (APM) [Minas Gerais Public Archive] Câmara Municipal de Ouro Preto (CMOP) [City Council of Ouro Preto] codex 1, f. 26v, 37v, 44v, 57v. See: Veloso (2018: 78-80).
• 27
  According to municipal regulations, in the mid-18th century, residents were required to ensure that their buildings in urban areas were aligned with the street or alley and the adjacent pavement (which also facilitated rainwater drainage). APM, CMOP, box 23, doc. 39.
• 28
  APM, CMOP, codex 38, Book of the chamber’s rentals, 1737-1738, f. 210. The name Direita Street (or Direita and Reta, meaning Right and Straight Street) could be applied to more than one street, especially during the period of discontinuity in the urban layout of Vila Rica, as a legacy of the separation of the mining settlements or the most populated neighborhoods that made up the city since 1711.
• 29
  APM, CMOP, codex 1.
• 30
  On the expansion in the territory of Minas Gerais and the social and political prestige of the Third Order of Our Lady of Carmel of Vila Rica, see: Andrade (2019, p, p. 1170-1193).
• 31
  According to Mathias (1969: XVII-XXXV), the census takers were military agents who divided the urban space into districts and those in streets, and other public places. Along time the new neighborhoods were progressively integrated in those districts and in the two parished of the town (Pilar e Antonio Dias). Iraci del Nero da Costa analysed this welknown census (Costa, 1979).
• 32
  About 18th century population estimates (not always accurate) see: Fonseca e Venâncio (2000: 153-181).
• 33
  At the time, in Minas Gerais, the term ‘creole’ referred to black individuals born in Brazil who descended from Africans born slaves. The handling of this identity was also linked to some ascending social trajectories. Libby (2013: 26-52); Teixeira (2022).
• 34
  See: Mathias (1969: 66-163).
• 35
  See: Mathias (1969: 100).
• 36
  For example, in the district of Alto da Cruz, Francisca de Gouvea, possibly the mother of three Creole children who lived with her, was a ‘black Angola woman who lives off her agency’. Mathias (1969: 125).
• 37
  See: Mathias (1969: 17-67).
• 38
  In 1804, approximately 60% of households in Vila Rica did not own slaves, probably as a result of underreporting in the registers. Costa (1979: 185).
• 39
  On the other hand, these small slave owners did not own the majority of slaves (according to the database of post-mortem inventories from the mining districts of the captaincy of Minas Gerais). The wealthiest masters (those with more than 10 captives) owned almost three-quarters of the slaves counted (Bergad, 2004: 296-301).
• 40
  APM, CMOP, codex 82. Lançamentos de derrama [Land Tax Entries], 1764, f. 16-18. The occupations listed refer to neighbours in the most relevant section or location of Direita Street, in accordance with the study’s objectives, to conduct a vertical investigation.
• 41
  AHU, Minas Gerais, box 69, doc. 29. Request by Caetano Francisco da Costa, resident of Vila Rica do Ouro Preto, born on the island of Pico, asking for permission to return to his homeland [before 1756]. APM, CMOP, box 56, doc. 44, Request for a new appointment to the position of solicitor in Vila Rica, 1781. The solicitor of causes was a public official responsible for filing lawsuits and legal proceedings.
• 42
  APM, CMOP, codex 97, Book of the chamber’s forums, 1772, p. 210. No registry documents related to Veríssimo Dias Teixeira were found. In the register of urban land in Vila Rica, compiled between 1737 and 1738, it is stated that this Veríssimo Dias (with the surname Ferreira) was summoned “for recognition of the register and measurement of the houses he owned on this site, which border on the west with the houses of Hierônimo dos Santos and on the east with those of José Correa”. These houses were subject to ground rent, and the owner was therefore obliged to pay the council the annual rent for the “land occupied by the houses”. It was recorded that these ‘when measured, were found to occupy [the leaseholder’s building], at the front of the street, one and a half fathoms [3.30 m]’. APM, CMOP, codex 38, Book of the council’s rents, 1737-1738, f. 256v-257. The old linear measure of a fathom is equivalent to 2.20 m.
• 43
  APM, CMOP, codex 82, Lançamentos de derrama [Land Tax Entries], 1764, f. 18.
• 44
  AHU, Minas Gerais, box 64, doc. 45, Request by Caetano Francisco da Costa, second lieutenant of one of the Ordenança de Pé do termo de Vila Rica [Foot Ordinance Companies of Vila Rica], requesting confirmation of his position in the aforementioned post, [before 1754]. AHU, Minas Gerais, box 75, doc. 26, Request by Caetano Francisco da Costa, aide to the Ordenanças de Pé [Infantry Regiment] of Vila Rica, requesting confirmation of his rank in the aforementioned position, [before 1760]. The assistant ordinance (an irregular troop of civilians), an officer of a rank superior to that of second lieutenant, ensured the execution of the commander’s orders. Together with the sergeant major who assisted him, he was responsible for the troops’ military training. See: Cotta (2002: 71-95).
• 45
  Arquivo Eclesiástico da Paróquia de Nossa Senhora do Pilar (AEPNSP) [Archive of the Parish of Our Lady of Pilar], Third Order of Carmel], (OTNSC), Livro de Eleições e Posse 1752-1809.
• 46
  AEPNSP codex 2354, Entries, Professions and Current Account, 1747-1771, Reg. 170, Reg. 450. AEPNSP, OTNSC, Livro de Eleições e Posse, 1752-1809.
• 47
  On food supply gardens and household chores in slave-based Minas Gerais, see: Meneses (2015: 69-92).
• 48
  AHMI, 1st Office, box 29, file 328, 1788, post-mortem inventory, Caetano Francisco da Costa.
• 49
  AHMI 1st Official Letter, box 29, file 328, 1788, post-mortem inventory, Caetano Francisco da Costa.
• 50
  Arquivo Eclesiástico da Arquidiocese de Mariana (AEAM) [Archive of the Archbishopric of Mariana]. De Genere et Moribus, cabinet 6, folder 1079, José Caetano da Costa. In the early 19th century, Priest José Caetano da Costa was the owner of the townhouse. Arquivo Público Municipal de Ouro Preto [APMOP]. Livro dos tombos [Register of Deeds], nº 151, 1806-1812, f. 136.
• 51
  According to two credits presented in the assistant’s inventory. AHMI, 1st Office, box 29, file 328, 1788, post-mortem inventory, Caetano Francisco da Costa.
• 52
  AHMI, 1st Office, box 29, file 315, 1780, post-mortem inventory, 1780, Custódio José de Araújo. AHMI, 1st Office, box. 422, doc. 8487, notification, 1793, Francisca Custódia do Pillar.
• 53
  AHMI, 1st Official Letter, box 16, file 153, post-mortem inventory, 1819, Ana Joaquina de Oliveira.
• 54
  APM, CMOP, Codex 82, Tax entries, 1764, f. 18.
• 55
  AHMI, 1st Official Letter, box 16, file 153, post-mortem inventory, 1819, Ana Joaquina de Oliveira.
• 56
  AHMI, 1st Office, civil lawsuit, code 197, case files 2742 and 1756, [defendant: Custody of Costa Braga].
• 57
  See: Mathias (1969: 107).
• 58
  Custódia da Costa Braga was a natural child and may have been of mixed race. Although she was a devoted follower of Our Lady of Carmel there is no record of her having joined the renowned Third Order of Carmel in the neighbourhood. Ana Joaquina was also a natural child, as was her granddaughter, Francisca Custódia. Both joined the Carmel Order and, probably recognised as charitable, became godmothers to several children in Vila Rica. AHMI, 2. Official letter, Post-mortem inventory, box 8, doc. 84, Custódia da Costa Braga, 1761 (Franco, 2014: 96). Banco de Dados sobre as séries paroquiais da Paróquia de Nossa Senhora do Pilar de Ouro Preto – séculos XVIII e XIX [Database on the parish records of the Parish of Nossa Senhora do Pilar de Ouro Preto – 18th and 19th centuries], coordinated by Adalgisa Arantes Campos (UFMG). We are grateful to this professor for granting us access to the database.
• 59
  AEPNSP, OTNSC, codex 2355, Entries, Professions and Current Account, 1765–1794, Reg. 2085.
• 60
  AEPNSP, OTNSC, codex 2355, Entries, Professions and Current Account, 1765–1794, Reg. 2085.
• 61
  AHMI, 1st Office, box 48, file 585, post-mortem inventory, 1844, Francisca Custódia do Pillar. Surely, during Francisca’s decades of agency, the total value of her assets was greater than that assessed after her death. For insights on the functions and social significance of the backrest chair, the chest of drawers, and the dining table during that period, see Borrego (2025: 47-95).
• 62
  Until the mid-18th century, nearly all dwellings were single-storey houses, relatively temporary—especially if they were ranches—and built with little durability. According to the city council’s solicitor, in 1812, when requesting a new inventory of the houses and leasehold lands—after the first inventory of the town was conducted between 1737 and 1738—”almost all the buildings were made of wood from the surface of the ground [...]” and, therefore, they were either ruined or demolished (cited by Vasconcelos, 1955: 209).
• 63
  Between the 18th and 19th centuries, Africans in urban areas could occupy shops, such as barber “shops” in Rio de Janeiro (Soares, 2013: 207-230) and shops within the townhouses of Salvador. According to João Reis, a ‘shop’ was a “kind of basement that can still be seen today in several old townhouses in Salvador” (Reis, 2003: 124).
• 64
  On the slave huts in the “Ouro Preto region” in the early 19th century see Slenes (2011: 161-183).

• Editor in charge:
  Ely Bergo de Carvalho

Data availability

The complete dataset supporting the results of this study has been published in the article itself.

Publication Dates

• Publication in this collection
  15 May 2026
• Date of issue
  2026

History

• Received
  25 Jan 2025
• Reviewed
  10 de=?? dezembro
• Accepted
  1 Aug 2025