Malintzin's Origins Slave or Cultural Confusion

Malintzin’s Origins: Slave? Or Cultural Confusion?
Rosamund E. Fitzmaurice, University College London
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Abstract. One of the most famous figures in the conquest of Mexico, Malintzin,
also known as La Malinche and Doña Marina, has been described in ethnohis-
torical accounts as an interpreter who came from slavery. But what if this assertion
of Malintzin’s origins was a result of cultural confusion, or simply untrue? This
article closely examines ethnohistorical sources and their description of Malintzin’s
origins. Could cultural bias or cultural misunderstanding be present within them?
How might these biases affect our reading of Malintzin’s supposed slave status?
The article explores the role of exchange, political marriage, gift giving, and
polygyny in Maya and Aztec culture to add further context to Malintzin’s transfer
from Indigenous to Conquistador society. It theorizes that Malintzin was never
intended to be given to the Spanish invaders as a slave but rather as a bride.
Keywords. Malintzin, Malinche, slavery, conquest, Aztec
Introduction
Malintzin, also known as La Malinche and Doña Marina, is considered

Hernán Cortés’s most valued interpreter prior to and during the conquest of
Mexico. She is regarded as having birthed the first Mestizo, Don Martín,
the first child of today’s Mexico (Lanyon 2003), and is a key figure in mod-
ern Mexico’s cultural identity (Candelaria 1980; Cypress 1991; González
Hernández 2002; Karttunen 1997; Tate 2017). Malintzin’s story is espe-
cially spectacular, as she is described as a slave given to Cortés in a story of
rags to riches. Except, what if she was not a slave? Malintzin’s origin story
does not fit the typical narrative of Mesoamerican forced labor and deserves
Ethnohistory 70:3 (July 2023) doi 10.1215/00141801-10443447

Copyright 2023 by American Society for Ethnohistory
330 Rosamund E. Fitzmaurice
further investigation. Many have written about the life and legacy of
Malintzin, most notably Camilla Townsend (2006a), Cristina González
Hernández (2002), Sandra Messinger Cypress (1991), and Frances Karttu-
nen (1997), all of whom provide an account of her life during and after the
conquest, the period for which we have most evidence and certainty. While
they all comment on Malintzin’s origins, Townsend (2006a: 1–29) is most
comprehensive; she delves into enslavement practices and the condi-

tions under which Malintzin and her cohort were given to the Spaniards
(35–37). I hope to add to the discussion of Malintzin, questioning her
origins and the political implications of her exchange between the leaders
of Tabasco and Cortés. In contrast to the evaluation made by Townsend
(35–37), I suggest that the “giving” (dar) of Malintzin to Cortés and his
soldiers was not intended as a gift of a slave, but rather offered as part of
an alliance-building marriage agreement. I use Malintzin’s example to
consider how other early exchanges and alliance building took place at
early contact. Malintzin’s story reveals how political games were played
among Indigenous and conquistador societies, adding to the complexity
of these early interactions.
Background
Malintzin was born around 1500–1505 in Coatzacoalcos (Díaz del Castillo

[1584] 1982: 69; Townsend 2006a: 11, 12), a coastal region in what is now
Veracruz, neighboring Tabasco. This period of “contact” began in the year
1492 with the arrival of Columbus in the Caribbean. Culturally, however,
life was nearly indistinguishable from the Postclassic period (ca. 900/1000–
1492 CE). During contact Coatzacoalcos was Nahuatl speaking (Symonds
1995: 686–89), but, given its coastal connections with Maya communities,
it likely also contained Chontal Mayan speakers. Mesoamerica at the time
of contact was made up of a series of what we might call city-states and their
surrounding communities, which were varyingly delineated by culture and
ethnicity. In Classical Nahuatl a city-state was an altepetl (Townsend 2019:
viii, 40); in scholarship on the Maya these city-states are called polities
(Martin 2020). During the establishment of a tribute-based “empire” by
the Mexica of Tenochtitlan in 1428, various city-states provided tribute to
their superiors in the Valley of Mexico or faced military consequences.
While this collection of city-states is often described as “Aztec,” the uni-
fying sentiment that the term evokes is unhelpful; altepetls, polities, and
city-states within the “empire” were governed independently and main-
tained their own local identities. I use the term Aztec to describe peoples
within this imperial sphere, one in which Nahuatl was the lingua franca.
Malintzin’s Origins 331
Forced Labor
Most stories and scholarship on Malintzin describe her as a slave before

being given to Cortés (Filmer 2003: 308; Lanyon 2003: 124; Restall 2018:
363; Smith 2012: 283; Tate 2017: 82; Townsend 2006a: 11–29). However,
before critically assessing the assertion, we must define slavery. Slavery is one
of several ways one enters forced labor, with specific legal allowances and

limitations; one is forced to perform tasks (labor) and one’s life is completely
controlled by another. Methods of entry into forced labor include: debt
bondage, where a debtor repays one’s creditors in labor;1 penal labor, where
forced labor is extracted through punishment; corvée labor, a form of tax-
ation;2 serfdom, a multigenerational system mostly associated with feudal
Europe in which common people provide (usually) agricultural labor for a
land owner, only keeping a portion of their produce;3 and slavery, where
persons are captured, kept, and forced to work or born into captivity and
forced labor.4 The term slavery has, however, become a proxy term for all
types of exploitation, regardless of system (cf. Lakoff and Johnson 1980:
147–55): slavery connotes poor working conditions, employer exploitation
of employees, and trafficking. When slavery is enshrined in law, however,
it is frequently associated with ownership and thus enslaved persons are
regarded as property (Lewis 2022: 29–30). In such systems “owners” are
subject to the same rights and limitations to their slaves as to other forms of
property. Thus, the term slavery has become somewhat imprecise. Indeed,
use of the term and idea of slavery (defined largely by ownership) by Spanish
writers in the contact and colonial period is set against a debate around the
morality of slavery as defined by legitimate or “just war” (Carro 1971).5
Previous summaries and discussions of forced labor in Mesoamerica
have largely focused on the Aztecs (Berdan and Smith 2021; Bosch García
1944; Hicks 1974; Izquierdo 1984; Shadow and Rodríguez 1995; Town-
send 2006b: 357–65). However, we may attempt to consider both “Aztec”
and “Maya”6 cultures under the umbrella of Mesoamerica when discussing
larger patterns of social hierarchy. In Mesoamerica, according to Spanish
written sources, one was forced into labor via either debt bondage, pun-
ishment, or sale. Diego Durán, a Dominican friar who wrote Aztec histories
from Indigenous codices (or “painted books”), explains that one became an
esclavo/a (slave) as punishment for a crime (penal labor). If one was unable
to pay back the item or value of a theft, that person would be sold (vender)
for the price of the item: “A los ladrones, que fuesen vendidos por el precio
del hurto que hicisen” (Durán [1588] 1990: 119). Some of these esclavo/as
could end up in public markets where they were generally purchased to
become “bathed slaves” (esclavos lavados; or in the Nahuatl, tlaaltilin)
(Anderson 1982; Sahagún [1545–90] 1976: 45–49). In the Maya world

theft was also punishable by penal labor, wherein people became esclavos
according to Diego de Landa ([1566] 1966: 53), a Franciscan friar who
documented some features of early colonial Maya society in the Yucatán.
According to Durán ([1574–76] 1971: 96), slavery as a punishment was
not limited to theft but applied in instances of treason and murder. People
could also enter forced labor when they had not repaid their debts, many of

which were thought to be related to gambling when playing or watching
patolli and the Mesoamerican ball game (Durán [1574–76] 1971: 301,
305; Evans 2013: 402).
Another method of enslavement was sale. Durán ([1588] 1990: 135–
36) points specifically to famine driving families to sell (vender) their chil-
dren. Durán states that these children could be bought back, recovered
(recobrar/rescatar), and that they were generally sold to nobles, implying
that they were in households that would be able to maintain them during
the child’s time of service. Indeed, when families approached nobles to
retrieve their children the price would be calculated as that of the original
price of the child plus the cost of the child’s maintenance: “Y daban por un
niño un cestillo muy pequeño de maíz a la madre o al padre, obligándose a
sustentar el niño todo el tiempo que el hambre durase para que si después el
padre o la madre lo quisiesen rescatar, fuesen obligados a pagar aquellos
alimentos” (And they gave for the child a very small basket of maize to the
mother or the father, obliged to support the child the during the entirety of
the famine and if after the father or the mother wanted to regain [the child]
they were required to pay for the maintenance [of the child during the fam-
ine]) (Durán [1588] 1990: 135–36). Thus, while this relationship between
the “slave” and enslaver appears to be asymmetrical and exploitative, it is
conceivable that this arrangement may suit struggling families with access
to noble or wealthy families. In this way one could consider the exchanged
child as collateral for a loan, which would be paid back when the family
could afford it, and the interest accrued took the form of the maintenance
costs for the child. While these types of exchanges were private, there is
evidence for public slave markets (Díaz del Castillo [1584] 1982: 189; Durán
[1574–76] 1971: 133; Sahagún [1545–90] 1976: 45–67). Durán ([1574–
76] 1971: 133) explains that these markets are for those who have angered
or disappointed their masters such that they were traded away. Because
one needed to be sold by a master, it is likely that those who were enslaved
were initially forced into labor due to a crime, debt, or private sale before
they could be sold publicly. Diego de Landa ([1566] 1966: 39) also notes
that slaves were sold in the Maya world and asserts, “El oficio a que más
inclinados estaban, es el de mercaderes llevando sal, y ropa y esclavos a
tierra de Ulúa y Tabasco” (The role to which they were most attracted was
that of merchant, who would carry salt and clothes and slaves across the
land from Ulúa and Tabasco), echoing Cortés ([1518–26] 1993: 565,
566); he even suggests that some Maya communities would do anything
to honor their rey (king) including “vendrerían a sus hijos y mujeres”
(would sell their sons and wives) (Landa [1566] 1966: 34), presumably
only when the rey was under pressure to provide for the community.

I principally use the accounts of Diego Durán, Bernal Díaz del Castillo,
Sahagún, and Diego de Landa in their descriptions of forced labor practices
among the Indigenous peoples of Mesoamerica; that is not to discount their
problematic nature. Landa and other Spaniards’ relationships with the
Maya of the Yucatán peninsula was destructive and violent (Clendenin
2003), and the authenticity of Landa’s work in particular has been criti-
cally evaluated (Restall and Chuchiak 2002; Restall et al. 2023), espe-
cially his reports of specific events. Commentary by Landa (or perhaps we
should say the school of Landa) on contemporary early colonial practices
appears more credible (Restall and Chuchiak 2002: 664); thus, descrip-
tions of forced labor could be considered within the category of societal
observations. These sources were also influenced by Spanish and Chris-
tian ideas. We therefore may consider points where we see such influence,
such as the conflation of the terms for war captives (cautivos, presos, pris-
oneros) and enslaved persons (esclavos/as). Frequently when Durán ([1588]
1990: 51, 106, 114, 128, 129, 152, 174–75, 192, 264, 273–74) refers to
war captives as esclavos they do not enter forced labor. Instead, Durán
describes captives taken in war and displayed as part of public killings
which were referred to as “sacrifice” by sixteenth-century Spaniards.7
Landa ([1566] 1966: 16–17) claims that the Cocom rulers of Mayapan
were the first to enslave: “Que aquel Cocom fue el primero que hizo escla-
vos,” which he reports as an event. Furthermore, it is his only reference to
enslaved war captives or kidnapped people among the Maya; thus, we might
safely distrust this information. While many areas of the world associate
slavery with captivity in war, or with kidnapping and piracy, this was less
common in Mesoamerica; instead, captives were killed off the battlefield
(see Hernandez and Bracken [2023] for a detailed assessment on Maya
warfare in particular). While piracy or raids were conducted by Maya
communities, these were not intended for private profiteering and enslave-
ment, as was the case for the Spanish when they landed in the Caribbean
(Stone 2017), but rather interpolity warfare (Helmke 2020). The confla-
tion of terms by Landa and Durán likely comes from the Spanish practice
of enslaving captives in war and piracy. It seems likely that some people
captured in war were traded, but as tribute items taken to Tenochtitlan
and other dominant city-states rather than in private sales (Berdan and
Anawalt 1992: 146; Townsend 2019: 363, 364).
Early Life of Malintzin
Malintzin was not born into forced labor. Nor are there accounts that she
was enslaved as a form of punishment.8 Instead, it appears that Malintzin

was forced out of her community by her relatives. Many sources have
suggested that Malintzin was traded as an esclava (slave) (Gómara [1552]
1966: 56–57; Tapia, qtd. in Fuentes 1993: 24; Torquemada, qtd. in Pérez
Galdós 1988: 338; Salazar 1575, bk. 2, chap. 36; Landa [1566] 1966: 10).
However, our fullest source of information on Malintzin, Díaz del Castillo,
never describes her as such. He reports that she was “given” to people from
Xicalango —“dieron de noche a la niña, Doña Marina a unos indios de
Xicalango,” ([they] gave one night, the girl, Doña Marina to some Indians
from Xicalango) (Díaz del Castillo [1584] 1982: 69)— who then gave her to
the Maya community in Tabasco where Cortés and Díaz del Castillo meet
her “por manera que los de Xicalango la dieron a los se Tabasco, y los de
Tabasco a Cortés” (in the same way those from Xicalango gave her to those
from Tabasco, and those from Tabasco to Cortés) (69–70). Malintzin was
reportedly of high status, born into a high-ranking family in her commu-
nity, and thus she was given away to avoid a power dispute. The potential
power dispute took the form of an inheritance clash: Malintzin’s mother
remarried after Malintzin’s father died, when Malintzin’s half brother was
born, favored for the leadership role, Malintzin was sent away to prevent
her from asserting any claims she may have had as heir. According to Díaz
del Castillo, who knew Malintzin personally, she was young when she was
forced out of Coatzacoalcos; Townsend (2006a: 22) estimates that she was
between the ages of eight and twelve. As a child she was unable to exert any
influence over her own life despite her status, and she found herself in a new
community.
Cortés ([1518–26] 1993: 575) in his letters mentions Malintzin just
once by name. In his fifth letter he describes her as his interpreter, given to
him along with nineteen other women in Tabasco. Although he takes her
everywhere he goes, the implication of paid or coerced labor is not present;
rather, she is given the role of interpreter. Francisco López de Gómara,
Andrés de Tapia (first published in 1561), and Francisco de Aguilar (first
published in 1865) were contemporaries of Cortés and wrote about him in
their work. In contrast to Díaz del Castillo, they explain that Malintzin was
given as a slave along with the nineteen other women in Tabasco (Gómara
[1552] 1966: 56–57; Tapia, qtd. in Fuentes 1993: 23–24; Aguilar, qtd. in
Fuentes 1993: 137–38). Gómara claims that Malintzin was stolen from her
parents during war; however, such an elite captive would likely have held
a lot of value and thus would have been a good candidate for “sacrifice”
or concubinage (Townsend 2006b: 362). Enslavement of captives was com-
mon in Europe, and it is likely that Gómara assumes Malintzin’s enslaved
status based on these practices and the perceived gift of her and the other
women. Furthermore, Gómara never knew Malintzin, nor did he visit the

New World (Townsend 2003: 1). Indeed, Gómara’s account was criticized
at the time of writing in 1552 not only for its overly flattering portrayal
of Cortés but for its inaccuracy (Roa de la Carrera 2010: 35, 39, 45n3).
Gómara largely based his account of Cortés and the conquest on Cortés’s
own stories and letters and relied on accounts of those whom he trusted
based on their social standing (39).
One of the accounts from which Gómara borrows is Andrés de Tapia
(qtd. in Fuentes 1963: 18; Roa de la Carrera 2010: 40). While Fuentes
(1993: 17–18) credits Tapia as a reliable source, Tapia only mentions Mal-
intzin in brief. Tapia does not refer to Malintzin by name, simply stating that
she was a translator who was discovered among the women given to Cortés.
Tapia’s details of the transaction are limited, stating that the people of
Tabasco gave them slave-women to grind maize for bread (qtd. in Fuentes
1993: 23–24). While Tapia does note that Malintzin was removed (stolen)
from her birthplace, he does not mention the status of her parents, stating
that she was raised among Maya peoples. Tapia describes these women as
possessions and omits their baptism, their new names, and that they were
allotted to individual conquistadors by Cortés. Tapia implies that the women
were sent en masse to the Spaniards rather than handed over in person (Díaz
del Castillo [1584] 1982: 67; Gómara [1552] 1966: 56). By glossing over
of the details of the transaction, omitting Malintzin’s name, and generally
downgrading her role in the conquest, Tapia reduces the reliability of his
account of Malintzin.
Similar difficulties arise in the writings of Francisco de Aguilar first
published long after he wrote the sixteenth century account in 1865. He does
name Malintzin but says that she is one of eight, not twenty, given to the
Spaniards (Aguilar, qtd. in Fuentes 1993: 138), and he does not explain
Malintzin’s background, stating simply that she knew Nahuatl and Mayan
(the variety of Mayan is not specified). In turn, Aguilar’s overall lack of
information and inaccuracy regarding Malintzin weakens his account.
Patricia de Fuentes (1993: 134–35) notes in her introduction to Aguilar
that he experienced a sort of moral revelation before writing his history
and released those he was given in encomienda (a corvée form of forced
labor; see Yeager 1995). Thus, it is possible that Aguilar was intentionally
vague about Malintzin due to his realized moral failings of the Spanish
invaders — in this case, the enslavement of Indigenous peoples.
Many of those who describe Malintzin’s origin as a slave appear late
in the historiography, never knew Malintzin, and learned of her from popu-
lar culture or Spanish-influenced accounts. Fray Juan de Torquemada (first
published in 1615, qtd. in Pérez Galdós 1988: 388), Francisco Cervantes de
Salazar (1575: bk. 2, chap. 36), and Diego de Landa ([1566] 1966: 10–12) are

among them. Alfred Tozzer (1941: 16n90–92), in his commentary accom-
panying his translation of Diego de Landa, notes confusion over Malintzin’s
origins as reported by Landa. Such confusion is also reflected in Cervantes
de Salazar’s two versions of Malintzin’s origins: one in which her parents
were slaves and one in which they were nobility (1575: bk. 2, chap. 36). By
the time of their writing and publication—Landa in 1566, Francisco Cer-
vantes de Salazar in 1575, and Torquemada in 1615— an interesting form
of transculturation (Ortiz [1940] 1995: 98) had emerged, parts of the New
World had been hispanized and Christianized, and in the process the con-
quest was justified and mythologized.
Five authors attest to Malintzin’s enslavement among Indigenous peo-
ple, however—Gómara ([1552] 1966: 56–57), Tapia (qtd. in Fuentes 1993:
24), Torquemada (qtd. in Pérez Galdós 1988: 338), Salazar (1575: bk. 2,
chap. 36), and Landa ([1566] 1966: 10)— only do so after first establishing
her enslavement among the Spanish. There is an interesting legal quirk to
these stories: the New Laws of 1542 outlawed slaving unless it was by virtue
of a “just war” (capture in battle) or exchange from a third party (thus no
new enslavement was enacted) (Stone 2017: 261–62). While the New Laws
were not retroactive, Díaz del Castillo ([1584] 1982: 5) notes that King
Charles V outlawed the enslavement of Indigenous peoples from at least
1517. Thus, by describing Malintzin as already enslaved allowed the
Spanish to legally treat her as such. Meanwhile, in Cortés’s fifth letter in
1526, the only source we have from before the New Laws, he does not
call Malintzin a slave; neither Aguilar nor Díaz del Castillo describe Mal-
intzin’s enslavement among Indigenous people (although Aguilar does call
her a “slave woman” [qtd. in Fuentes 1993: 138] as she is given to them).
Such foregrounding of Malintzin’s enslavement legitimized not only their
treatment of these women but also the treatment of subsequently enslaved
women displaced by the Spanish conquest (see Restall 2018: 293).
Unfortunately, there are no Indigenous sources which discuss or depict
the early life of Malintzin, instead she is introduced as part of the cohort
of Spanish men meeting Indigenous peoples. Malintzin is even depicted as
meeting the Spanish ships on the shores of Mesoamerica in Sahagún’s
General History of the Things of New Spain (the Florentine Codex), a
text written in both Nahuatl and Spanish, derived from interviews with
Indigenous informants, and accompanied by vignettes painted by Indig-
enous scribes. Other Indigenous texts that depict Malintzin are the
Lienzo de Tlaxcala and the Codex Azcatitlan, neither of which show her
childhood, origins, or her life before the arrival of the Spanish. The Indig-
enous texts that depict Malintzin all show her in a clearly elevated status
(Karttunen 1997: 295). She tends to be placed centrally and is usually

drawn larger than other figures, both symbols of importance. In the Codex
de Azcatitlan, Malintzin is only clearly identifiable in one scene (fol. 22v),
that of the conquest of Tenochtitlan. However, she is present throughout
the Lienzo de Tlaxcala in twenty-two of the forty-eight scenes; the plates of
the Lienzo show Malintzin as a key figure in diplomacy, between figures,
behind or advising Cortés (plates 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 20, 27, 28, 29, and
48), and in battles (plates 9, 14, 15, 19, 21, 22, 23, 26, and 45). Her physical
position at the front or center of scenes, among the crowd, as a head and
shoulders by Cortés, and as a warrior holding a shield and spear, are all
significant symbols of any key figure in the conquest. These pictorial texts
introduce Malintzin as an ally of the Spanish but not as Spanish herself. The
sources reveal a theme of respect and of the emergence of transculturation,
and while they acknowledge Malintzin’s Indigeneity, she is clearly an inter-
mediary for the Spanish.
It is unclear how old Malintzin was when she met the Spanish invaders.
She died in 1529 around the age of thirty (Chaison 1976: 521–22; Kart-
tunen 1997: 308; Townsend 2006a: 171); therefore, she was likely born
around 1500. However, there is some debate around her age, and it is pos-
sible that she was born in 1505 (Cypress 1991: 33; Townsend 2006a: 11).
Furthermore, although the exact date on which Cortés and his soldiers met
the Maya in Tabasco is unknown, the year was 1519 and it was not long
before their meeting with Motecuhzoma Ilhuicamina. Malintzin is clearly
depicted as an adult woman in the Indigenous codices, which might be an
indication that she was closer to nineteen than to fourteen when she met
Cortés. From the perspective of canon law (ostensibly followed by the con-
quistadors) Malintzin was certainly old enough to have been handed over
to the new explorers with the implication of marriage (the minimum age was
twelve). In real terms one might expect the Spanish to regard Malintzin as
an acceptable object for extramarital sexual services (Karttunen [1997: 301]
notes that domestic service, and cooking in particular, was an allusion to
sexual services). When handed over to the conquistadors Malintzin was
given or assigned to Alonso Hernández Puertocarrero, so too were each of
the other women “given” to individual men (Díaz del Castillo [1584] 1982:
67). Townsend (2006a: 37) notes that Puertocarrero was high ranking
within the group, and thus the gift of Malintzin might have been an indi-
cator of her beauty; perhaps the leaders of Tabasco also indicated her
political (rather than economic) value to Cortés in the exchange.
Offerings of women to the conquistadors in this fashion are discussed
numerous times by Díaz del Castillo ([1584] 1982: 69–70, 146–48, 172,
206, 209, 229), not only in Tabasco but in Tlaxcala (see below), Chalco,
Cimaloacan, Ayotzingo, and Tenochtitlan by Motecuhzoma himself. Cortés

([1518–26] 1993: 168, 184, 215, 561–62) echoes these events in his second
and fifth letters. Later in the conquest these gifts of women were coerced.
There is a distinct change in the language around these women; they are
clearly described as slaves by Díaz del Castillo ([1584] 1982: 310) and Cortés
([1518–26] 1993: 617–20, 631, 649, 660), who do not use the term in early
interactions. Women were forcibly taken, assessed for their value, branded,
and distributed among the Spanish soldiers, with some set aside for the
crown. Bartolomé de Las Casas ([1552] 1953: 65) details one of these later
interactions, which appear at first to mirror the early interactions of gift
giving and person exchange ending in alliance — however, in the clear
context of spreading Spanish slaving practices with less emphasis on alli-
ance after the conquest of Tenochtitlan. Thus, we should consider the
political environment and the roles of the women within the contests of
their exchanges. Such context includes the roles of wives, concubines, and
other female dependents in Mesoamerican society. Given their roles and
the political nature of the exchange, I propose that the transferal of Mal-
intzin and the nineteen other women between the Lords of Tabasco and
Cortés was most likely not intended as a gift of slaves (although the Spanish
soldiers may have misunderstood this, deliberately or otherwise) but as a
marriage alliance.
Marriage, Concubinage, and Labor
Political marriage alliances by way of polygyny were an important aspect

of Indigenous life in Mesoamerica for the political elite (Clendinnen 1982:
428; Coe and Houston 2015: 234; Hassig 2016; Martin and Grube 2008:
16; Restall 2018: 126; Sharer 2006: 676; Smith 2012: 48, 160–61; Evans
2008: 215; Townsend 2006b: 365–77). Among Aztec nobility tlatoque (a
Nahuatl term for rulers; Townsend 2019: x) married their daughters to the
dominant huehueintin tlatoque, usually in Tenochtitlan, and the resulting
offspring were expected to take the role of heir (Pedro Carrasco [1984]
discusses the minutiae of marriage alliances and succession or inheritance of
offices; see also Hassig 2016: 40). Polygyny was so engrained in the culture
of the ruling classes that it formed part of the establishment of Tenochtitlan
according to Durán ([1588] 1990: 48); the mythology of the first king of
Tenochtitlan surrounds the story of Acamapichtli not only marrying into
the ruling family of Culhuacán but marrying the daughters of the local
nobility, too, uniting the neighborhoods of the until then divided Tenoch-
titlan. Mexica succession was organized via restricted election rather than
primogeniture (Durán [1588] 1990: 53; Hassig 2016: 24–60), nevertheless,
all Aztec tlatoque were related. The pool of potential candidates for leader

was vast, and thus political ties and allegiances (usually by marriage) were
key to establishing and maintaining power. Not only did the Aztec tlatoque
themselves have multiple wives but the nobility, the pool of potential can-
didates for huehueintin tlatoque, did too.
Marriage alliances are important in discussing Malintzin and her
exchange since she is reportedly the daughter of a cacique (Díaz del Castillo
[1584] 1982: 69), a Taíno term for “chief,”9 or could have been the daughter
of nobility (Salazar 1575: bk. 2, chap. 36; Gómara [1552] 1966: 57; Landa
[1566] 1966: 10; Torquemada, qtd. in Pérez Galdós 1988: 338). It is possible
that her initial exchange from the Nahua to the Maya community was for
a marriage transaction, as it follows customs of not only the Aztecs but
also the Maya. The age range of eight to twelve may seem early to consider
marriage; however, among Postclassic Maya communities betrothal was
arranged early in life, only to be finalized when they were around the age of
twenty (Landa [1566] 1966: 42–43; Sharer 2006: 675). Furthermore, Ross
Hassig (2016: 17) points out that in some cases in the Aztec world, girls
as young as twelve were married, although largely treated as daughters by
their husbands. The problem with this narrative is the presence of the peo-
ple of Xicalango, who were the supposed slave traders in the traditional
story. These people could conceivably be marriage arbitrators. In both
Aztec and Maya communities there were those who arranged marriages
between families (Sahagún [1545–90] 1981: 40; Hassig 2016: 16–17;
Sharer [2006: 676] notes that some communities in the Yucatán still use
matchmakers). Coatzacoalcos, Malintzin’s birthplace, is one of many com-
munities with ties in the Nahuatl speaking and (Chontal) Mayan speaking
worlds, and thus is it conceivable that such an alliance would exist. Lisa
Sousa (2017: 63, 71), for example, gives no distinction between Chontal
(Maya) and Nahua ethnic practices when reporting marriage arrange-
ments in Ichcateopan. Migration of those who spoke Nahuatl (Beekman
and Christensen 2003) and Mayan (Miller Wolf and Freiwald 2018; Halpe-
rin et al. 2021) is known in Mesoamerica, as well as established trade and
tribute connections among these groups (Marci and Looper 2003: 292); while
we cannot guarantee that those who migrated married and integrated with
their new communities, it seems likely that they would have for their
communities to persist. Interethnic and interlinguistic unions, including

marriages, continued in the colonial period; marriage for political
advantage occurred after Nahua assisted conquests of Maya speaking
areas (Megged 2013: 219–20).
Endogamous, patrilocal monogamy was the most common form of
union across Mesoamerica; most people tended to stay within their own
class and community. These customs were different for the elite since

they tried to maintain endogamous unions in terms of class (on how they
attempted to maintain this endogamy, see Hassig 2016: 71–84) but nec-
essarily exogamous unions in terms of locality, due to the limited number of
nobles in one place, and tended toward polygyny rather than monogamy.
Nobility of various altepetls and polities maintained political ties with each
other through a combination of polygyny and concubinage and increased
the wealth of the household as the number of laborers increased. We should
consider explicit hierarchies when discussing wives, concubines, and other
female dependents (including slaves) and their varying levels of legitimacy
and power. Townsend (2006b: 373–77) reveals the subtlety of these hier-
archies, examining the practicality of relationships and living arrange-
ments among wives, concubines, and other female dependents.
Each of these female dependents occupied a different point on the
spectrum of power within the family, and this power allowed them varying
degrees of political, bodily, and sexual autonomy. Noting that even the most
powerful wife would not have held complete autonomy, we could describe
wives as the highest ranking of these dependents, followed by concubines
and ending with slaves. One’s position in the household largely depended on
her status at birth and her status at the point of entry into the household
(Townsend 2006b: 368). A woman from a powerful family is likely to be
welcomed as a wife, but this is diminished to concubine if her natal family’s
status has declined because of conquest (Townsend 2006b: 362). Alter-
natively, a serving woman to a high-status bride might remain with her
mistress in the new household as a concubine (P. Carrasco 1997: 90;
1984: 44).
Mesoamerican female dependents of all cultures and ethnicities were
household laborers for their families. Elite women were an essential part of
this economic activity, lending them familial and social power (Anderson
1997; McCafferty 1988: 48–50). In general, most women performed
domestic labor, and most people in forced labor also performed domestic
labor (Durán [158] 1990: 169). This does not mean that all of those who
performed domestic labor were women, nor that all of those forced into
labor were women. However, it does reveal why some terminology refers
to both women and serving people: for example, Townsend (2006a: 19;
2006b: 375) explains that while the term tequixtia means “to put out [of
a home or structure],” it was associated with the removal of women and
servants only.
Díaz del Castillo and Cortés both comment on how they were given (or
more properly, lent) laborers by local elites when they needed assistance.
They frequently mention warriors and carriers; however, they were also
sent women to grind maize (Díaz del Castillo [1584] 1982: 138; Cortés

[1518–26] 1993: 168), and after their work these laborers returned to their
communities. Yet the Spanish sources never described female laborers
as esclavas or criadas (servants); the sources simply call them women and
describe their activities. It is certain that the women given to the Spanish
soldiers by local lords (as wives or concubines) would have performed these
same tasks. In this way the Spanish men might have considered women
given to them slaves and treated them as such, but that does not certify that
the women were gifted with that intention.
While the betrothal theory outlined above could conceivably fit the
narrative that Díaz del Castillo and others offer about Malintzin’s life,
perhaps we should consider if Malintzin was offered as a concubine. It is
important to point out that concubines are not described as slaves, although
they have less autonomy than wives; they are not described as being bought
at market, nor are they described as having sold themselves into their posi-
tion. Their transaction resembled a marriage but with less political value. It
is unclear when a man “acquired” concubine(s) in relation to his legitimate
marriage (P. Carrasco 1984: 44; Hassig 2016: 97). Presumably it would be
advantageous to marry before acquiring a concubine to clarify which woman
was of higher status. The status of children by concubines and by wives
differed (P. Carrasco 1984: 44; Townsend 2006b: 366), but both inherited.
What is the distance between concubinage and marriage? It seems to be a
matter of subtle status difference: a concubine performs the same role as the
wife but has descended the social scale. It seems that she was once an elite and
was given in political transaction by the subordinate party. This could cer-
tainly describe Malintzin’s initial transaction between her Nahua and Maya
communities if we believe a war or political confrontation took place.
However, our only source that suggests warfare in Malintzin’s transaction
is Gómara. In his story Malintzin is stolen; she is not part of political sub-
jugation or alliance. Townsend (2006a: 23–24) points out the politically
bizarre choice for Malintzin’s mother, whose noble husband has died, to sell
her child; but instead of entertaining the idea that Malintzin was given away
in marriage or concubinage, she implies that Malintzin was a commoner
who was sold into slavery during hard times. Cypress (1991: 28–30) and
Townsend (2006a: 25) consider how romantic the story was for authors like
Díaz del Castillo, who might have been influenced by Medieval European
folklore and bible stories. Díaz del Castillo is also criticized for creating
an early stereotype of the passive “patriarchal, colonized woman” (Cypress
2012: 32; see also 25, 44). Townsend (2006a: 23) thus suggests that perhaps
Malintzin “encouraged” Díaz del Castillo to believe her nobility: “Malintzin
herself probably preferred he believe this than know the full truth,” a truth
that, of course, only she knew. Malintzin’s valued status is implied by her

inclusion as part of the “gift” to the Spanish, indicating her noble (if lower
elite) descent. Marriage was just as important as gift giving in political
relationships in Mesoamerica, indicating hierarchy in relationships of the
givers and receivers (Clendinnen 1991: 70; Coe and Houston 2015: 275;
Harrison-Buck 2021).
Those who describe Malintzin as a slave seem to assume it because of
the transactional aspect of movement from one community to another. She
was “given” (dar) or “sold” (vender) between parties, but sales of esclavos
followed certain customs, none of which fit Malintzin’s story. Most of our
information for Malintzin’s background states that she was from a noble
family and thus unlikely to have been sold as a commodity for her labor.
While some believe that Malintzin might have labored in ritual service at
temples (McCafferty 2009) or moved from one place to another as part of
tribute (González Hernández 2002: 204), I suggest she was transferred in
an act of betrothal (or perhaps as a concubine) for political gain. It is
important to note that marriage and sales can be viewed similarly: as
mutually beneficial exchanges between parties. Marriage, however, implies
active political value of those within the marriage (the objects of the
exchange) rather than their economic or corporeal value. Gift giving
more closely resembles sales rather than marriages due to the value and
symbol of the gift rather than the active political agency of the gift (however,
see Harrison-Buck 2021 on the personification and gendering of prestige
goods in reciprocal gifting among Maya peoples). There is a subtle differ-
ence between the economics and politics of marriage and gift exchange, and
this may be easily misunderstood, intentionally or unintentionally.
It is unlikely that the Spanish invaders were simply ignorant of the
practice of marriage alliances; similar alliances were common among Early
Modern Europeans. However, it is possible that because the conquistadors
had been presented with multiple women, they did not understand the
implied polygynous nature that this practice had for the Indigenous people.
Such cultural clashes should not be taken for granted but rather interro-
gated. Kevin Terraciano (2019) notes how divergent perspectives emerge in
the Florentine Codex, book 12, and explains that although the Nahuatl and
Spanish texts are presented side by side, they are not consistent translations
of each other. He illustrates these divergent perspectives with an example

from chapter 11, when the Tlaxcalan nobles offer their daughters to the
Spanish conquistadors, most likely for marriage to shore up their newfound
friendship, and yet the Spanish text does not reflect these inferences in the
Nahuatl (Terraciano 2019: 47). “The difference in word choice suggests
that the Spaniards used them (usaron dellas) for labor or sex, or both, which
is neither stated nor implied in the Nahuatl” (47). Díaz del Castillo ([1584]

1982: 147) echoes this event and infers that the women are to be married to
Cortés and his men: “Paresce ser tenía concertado entre todos los caciques
de darnos sus hijas y sobrinas, las más ermosas que tenían que fuesen don-
xellas por casar” (And it appears to have been agreed between all the caci-
ques to give us their daughters and nieces, the most beautiful they had, all of
marriageable age). The language is subtle and can be interpreted variously
depending on the circumstances surrounding the exchange: these women
are of proper age (D. Carrasco [2008: 119] translates this as “ready for
marriage”); they are beautiful, noble; the “caciques” agreed among them-
selves to hand over their daughters and nieces. While these women might
be put into the category of concubines, the relationship being established
is a new friendship, a new alliance, one in which both the Spanish and the
Tlaxcalans have suffered attacks; it is not clear who is the dominant party;
they are at a stalemate. Díaz del Castillo ([1584] 1982: 147) goes on to
report, “El viejo Xicotenga: Malinche, porque más claramente conozcáis
el bien que os queremos, y deseamos en todo contentaros, nosotros os quer-
emos dar nuestras hijas, para que sean vuestras mujeres, y hagáis genera-
ción porque queremos teneros por hermanos” (The old Xicotenga said,
Malinche so that you know more clearly the good will that we want, and
that we desire total contentedness, we want to give to you our daughters,
in order that they may be your women [wives] and that there will be a new
generation to make us brothers”). The leader of Tlaxcala leads his daughter
to Cortés: “Malinche esta es mi hija, e no ha sido casada, que es donsella,
y tomalda para vos. La qual le dió por la mano” (Malinche, this is my
daughter, she has not been married, thus she is a maiden, and I give her to
you. He gave her to Cortés by the hand). As can be seen in the original-
language quotation, Cortés is referred to as Malinche, one of Malintzin’s
names; Díaz del Castillo ([1584] 1982: 144) notes that this was common
since she was always speaking “for” him. Thus, the political implications of
this interaction and the proposition of marriage was undoubtedly clarified
by Malintzin herself (something she was not in the position to do during the
negotiation of her own exchange).
A similar event is described earlier in the text by Díaz del Castillo
([1584] 1982: 98–101) with the noble daughters of Cempoala. These
encounters are not surrenders, and these women are not given to the
Spanish men simply to please them; they are there are part of the political
agreement of peace and alliance building. Interestingly, after initial contact
there was a rise in Spanish-Indigenous marriages (P. Carrasco 1997: 88),
perhaps due to increased familiarity but certainly also for mutual political
benefit. Spanish men at first contact may have had wives in Spain or did not
want to tie themselves to an Indigenous “princess” when another, wealthier
or more politically attractive match might come along. Such was the case,

as Pedro Carrasco (1997: 94–95) explains, for the Tlaxcalan Doña Luisa
Xicontencatl, a woman clearly intended to be part of a marriage alliance. At
this early stage of contact legitimate Christian marriages as recognized by
the Spaniards themselves were rare and Indigenous peoples had to make
allowances for their unknown Spanish customs. These alliance-building
interactions show a pattern of how Indigenous and Spanish people valued
these unions. Indigenous families had always used marriage alliances to
increase their social worth and political power in the region, but new Spanish
men dealt in a different political world where they were not allowed to
marry multiple wives, and thus their political alliance building in this area
was narrower. Instead, the conquerors accepted the women, baptized them,
and later called them slaves, using them simultaneously as a symbol of
political unity and for personal pleasure. A cohort of women resembling
wives or concubines among the Spanish would not have perturbed local
Indigenous leaders and might have lent legitimacy to the Spanish, for they
represented already successful political alliances. Indigenous leaders add-
ing to the cohort of women would not necessarily see their own brides
or concubines as beneath these other women. While we cannot say with
certainty that this event mirrors Malintzin’s exchange, it seems probable.
Conclusion
Malintzin does not become a “slave” in the way that is typical for Meso-
americans. She does not seem to have been sold for profit, neither she nor
another member of her family committed a crime to be punished, and there is
no mention of debts to be paid. Calling Malintzin a slave appears to have
come from Spanish sources legitimizing their own exploitation of her and her
fellow “gifted” women. Under these circumstances they could justify labor
and sexual exploitation without fear of defying their faith (thinking noth-
ing of extramarital sex). The Maya community of Tabasco that met Cor-
tés recognized Spanish power and was prepared to secure an alliance with
brides or concubines. Meanwhile, the Spanish soldiers took on the guise
of successful alliance builders given their entourage of women, and they
ignored any implications that women given to them by political elites were
to be their legitimate wives or legitimate concubines. The “gift” of Mal-

intzin is just one of many early contact exchanges that exemplify a political
ploy by the Spanish newcomers taking for granted that accepting women
offered as wives or concubines meant political alliance while exploiting
them for their bodies and their labor. By describing these gifts of women as
wives and concubines we shift the narrative from overwhelmed or defer-
ential local leaders providing their new conquerors with gifts of slaves, to

discussions among equals in a rapidly changing political climate.
Notes
An earlier iteration of this article was presented online to the Spanish and Latin
American Studies Department at University College London. Thank you to the
audience for listening, asking perceptive questions and providing encouraging
feedback. Thank you to Elizabeth Baquedano for our many debates and con-
versations on Malintzin, reading drafts of this paper, and your encouragement
throughout. Thank you to Elizabeth Graham, Alexander Samson, and José Oliver
for reading drafts of this article and providing feedback. Thank you, too, to the
editors of Ethnohistory for their comments on the piece, and to the two anony-
mous reviewers for their criticism and insight. All translations are my own unless
otherwise attributed.
1 Debt bondage may be term-limited or without term, and debt can be passed
through generations in some situations. Modern slavery and people trafficking
tends to take the form of debt bondage (Dinan 2000).
2 Corvée labor should not be confused with communal labor, since the corvée
laborer does not directly benefit from the labor. For example, an agricultural
communal laborer will ultimately consume the food they produce, while an
agricultural corvée laborer largely provides the food for others. As of the late
twentieth and early twenty-first centuries communal labor is still practiced in
some areas of Mexico (Mutersbaugh 2002: 477).
3 One was usually born into serfdom, although there were nuances to each
practice (Bailey 2014: 3–4; Sivéry 1999: 42–43).
4 Depending on the status of the parents and the legal system, the children of
slaves could be born free; thus, enslaved status is not de facto heritable. Meso-
american forced labor among the Aztecs was not heritable (Berdan and Smith
2021: 136). While this is very likely the case for Maya peoples, none of our
sources say so explicitly.
5 This debate was driven by Bartolomé de Las Casas (1953) and Juan Ginés de
Sepulveda most famously at the Colegio de San Gregorio and is known as the
Valladolid debate (see Brunstetter and Zartner 2010 for the lasting implications
of the arguments put forward).
6 Like the term Aztec, Maya is a unifying term for ethnically diverse peoples, in
this case based on language group rather than tribute sphere (see Restall 2004).
7 The concept of sacrifice has recently been criticized (Graham 2019; Jacobsen
2019; Jansen and Pérez Jiménez 2019, 2022).
8 Townsend (2006a: 23) and Karttunen (1997: 312) briefly entertain this idea but
do not state their belief in it.
9 Taíno is an Arawakan language of the Greater Antilles. It translates as “head of
the house/lineage” (i.e., kasíkua- plus gender suffixes -li or -ri). The Spaniards
borrowed this term and frequently used it in their vocabulary to refer to a chief
or an elite leader in continental America (José R. Oliver, pers. comm., 1 June
2021).

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Malintzin’s Origins: Slave? Or Cultural Confusion?

Rosamund E. Fitzmaurice, University College London

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Malintzin, also known as La Malinche and Doña Marina, is considered

Ethnohistory 70:3 (July 2023) doi 10.1215/00141801-10443447

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Malintzin was born around 1500–1505 in Coatzacoalcos (Díaz del Castillo

Most stories and scholarship on Malintzin describe her as a slave before

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(Anderson 1982; Sahagún [1545–90] 1976: 45–49). In the Maya world

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Early Life of Malintzin

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Marriage, Concubinage, and Labor

Political marriage alliances by way of polygyny were an important aspect

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communities to persist. Interethnic and interlinguistic unions, including

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of each other. He illustrates these divergent perspectives with an example

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to be their legitimate wives or legitimate concubines. The “gift” of Mal-

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Anderson, Arthur J. O. 1982. “The Institution of Slave-Bathing.” Indiana, no. 7:

Clendinnen, Inga. 2003. Ambivalent Conquests: Maya and Spaniard in Yucatan,

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Helmke, Christophe 2020. “Tactics, Trophies, and Titles: A Comparative Perspec-

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