The genesis for this special issue on "Words and Deeds" was a panel discussion held in conjunction with the January 1997 joint meeting of the Conference on Latin American History and the American Historical Association in New York City. Participants Richard Boyer, Sonya Lipsett-Rivera, Kimberly Hanger, and Jane Landers presented the papers included in this volume. The essays all flowed together so nicely and initiated such a lively exchange among panelists and the audience that the editors of The Americas asked us to prepare them for publication, incorporating some of the commentary offered at the session. What you read in the following pages is a result of that process, although we still think it rather ironic that a journal produced by the Academy of American Franciscan History should want to include articles with so many off-color words and references to sexual conduct and violence!

The fact that these essays generated such interest as conference papers and appear in this special issue of The Americas confirms the value cultural historians are placing on the study of insults, conflicts, and other confrontational behavior to reconstruct societal norms and worldviews and assess challenges to them. What constituted an insult or defined anti-social behavior reveals much about what the community considered each person's position in it; resistance to one's assigned role and identity or objection to someone else misconstruing this identity unmasked a sense of injustice that community members, especially its leaders, had to rectify in order to maintain social order.

This essay presumes the baroque texture of colonial Mexico in its multiple styles, voices, and peoples differentiated by race, ethnicity, locale, culture, place of origin, position, wealth, and clientele. It also presumes, using Marina S. Brownlee's words, a “selfreflective and distorting” tendency of baroque societies to spin off countercurrents and transpositions of dominant culture. “Profusion of detail, hierarchy, and contrast,” Irving Leonard's well traveled characterization of the Mexican baroque, could not be confined easily to fixed orderings and orthodoxies. From the first, in fact, the project to order the colony created more rather than less diversity by “introduc[ing] new, upsetting influences.” These influences—new cultural valuations, “a new, exclusive religion, and new laws and procedures”— may have “unified a congeries of independent states and empires.” But they also combined in different ways, rates, and degrees with pre-existing and newly emerging political and cultural forms. Not as a uniform flood plain but as diverse sedimentations, the colony was formed by back-eddies and cross currents more than a single stream.

Countless judicial complaints ranging from malos tratos (domestic mistreatment) to assault to insults contain the phrase de obra y palabra (by deed and word). Mexicans of the period 1750 to 1856 understood that the two aspects of injury—verbal and physical—were equally important. While violent acts harmed the body, words attacked an individual's honor and reputation. Therefore harm was conceived of as both physical and verbal, and the connection between the two was inherent in judicial formulations and the expression itself.

Colonial New Orleans was a community, like so many others in Latin America, in which the upper sectors desired to maintain order and “toda tranquilidad,” preferably by way of legislation and judicial compromise but through force and authoritarian measures if necessary. Challenges to this tranquility came from those groups considered marginal and thus often subordinated, oppressed, and made generally unhappy with the status quo, among them workers, women, soldiers, slaves, and free blacks (libres). Free black women— the focus of this paper—drew upon multiple experiences as members of several of these subjugated groups: as women, as nonwhites, sometimes as former slaves, and usually as workers, forced by poverty to support their families with earnings devalued because they were gained doing “women's work.” But they did not suffer silently. Condemning the patriarchal order, racist, sexist, authoritarian society in which they operated, libre women vigorously attacked it both verbally and physically, employing such elite-defined legal and illegal methods as petitions, judicial procedures, slander, insults, arson, and assault and battery.

Historian Charles Cutter has analyzed the “non-adversarial nature” of the Spanish legal culture and the manner in which Spanish authorities deployed written law (ley), customary law (derecho), and personal discretion (arbitrio judicial) effectively to achieve justice (equidad), even in peripheral areas of the empire. The primary objective of judicial administration was the resolution of conflict and restoration of harmony within the Spanish community. This paper uses civil and criminal records from second Spanish period Florida (1784-1821) to explore the gendered nature of Spanish legal culture by examining conflict between women and its resolution, as well as the ways in which the community and the court attempted to monitor and correct the “disruptive” behavior of women.

The historiography of the Mexican revolution has largely overlooked the period of the country's reorganization. Between the writing of the 1917 constitution and the creation of the Partido Nacional Revolucionario (PNR) in 1929, the revolutionary government centralized its power, institutionalized its political system, and achieved widespread legitimacy for its social and economic program, referred to as the Official Revolution. The five major syntheses of the revolution that appeared during the 1980s added important insight to the conflict and generally emphasized the struggle's regional aspects. Although a trend toward neopopulism appeared, these scholars tended to argue that the revolution exhibited considerable local variety as opposed to traditional accounts of a nationally consistent agrarian uprising. These works also seriously damaged what has become known as the “careerist” school, which portrayed lower-class participation in the conflict as manipulated by power-hungry, revolutionary elites. Nevertheless, few authors extended the revolution's periodization beyond 1924. Thus, no study has yet fully analyzed the dynamics of Mexico's reorganization. Neither has a volume emerged that appreciates this process at the local level.