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The Portuguese Language in Trinidad and Tobago: A Study of Language Shift

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THE PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE IN TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO:
A STUDY OF LANGUAGE SHIFT AND LANGUAGE DEATH

JO-ANNE SHARON FERREIRA

1999
 THE PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE IN TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO:
A STUDY OF LANGUAGE SHIFT AND LANGUAGE DEATH

A Thesis
Submitted in Fulfilment of the Requirement for the Degree of
Doctor of Philosophy in Linguistics

for
The University of the West Indies

by
Jo-Anne Sharon Ferreira

1999

Department of Liberal Arts

Faculty of Humanities and Education
St. Augustine Campus
 i

ABSTRACT

The Portuguese Language in Trinidad and Tobago:

A Study of Language Shift and Language Death

Once a living language in Trinidad, Portuguese ceased to be considered by its

speakers and their descendants a marker vital to their existence. The
Portuguese speech community became vulnerable to language imposition
from the wider society, and Portuguese itself has been fully displaced by
English. The process of language death spanned two to three generations,
resulting from the intertwining of psychological and social causes –
particularly member core values, and the pressure of assimilation.

The Portuguese language survived in only a few Trinidadian families

which are the products of twentieth century immigration, or in which each
generation had at least one immigrant. An analysis of the community’s
history and demographics serves to show unstable levels of immigration, as
well as social mixing that took place through intermarriage. Linguistic change
and loss ultimately resulted from such intermixtures, and the community was
left exposed to the linguistic norms and values of the outer society, which it
adopted to the neglect of its own.

Lexico-semantic and phonological analyses of the language spoken by

creoles show evidence of language atrophy in progress, compared to the
language brought by the Madeirans. The few lexico-semantic domains that
remain are now disappearing. The informants exhibit varying levels of
knowledge of the language. The analysis shows systematic linguistic changes,
including regular patterns of reduction, as well as isolated changes at the
individual level.

Within the contact situation, English was perceived as the language of

power, prestige, and possibilities for advancement, which militated against
language maintenance in the Portuguese community. The low social status of
the original migrants was passed on to the language which was also locally
devalued. Language attitudes, in combination with socio-historical factors,
are the causes of the shift to English and of the death of Portuguese in
Trinidad and Tobago.

Jo-Anne Sharon Ferreira

 ii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The completion of this thesis would have been impossible without the support
and assistance of Jesus Christ, my parents, J. Roderick and Veronica Ferreira,
my grandmother, Maria Eustacia Petronella “Vio” de Souza Ferreira, and my
supervisor, Barbara Lalla. I owe them all my gratitude.
I would also like to thank the University of the West Indies for
awarding me a full two and a half year postgraduate scholarship as well as for
granting me teaching assistantships; Wycliffe Bible Translators Caribbean for
time spent at the Summer Institute of Linguistics in France and the United
Kingdom; and the Associação Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro for making a
month-long visit to Portugal possible.
The staff and resources of the following libraries were of enormous
help: the West Indiana Collection of the University of the West Indies in St.
Augustine; the Newberry Library, the Oliveira Lima Library, the Hispanic
Division of the Library of Congress, all in the United States; the Biblioteca
Nacional de Lisboa and the Arquivo Regional da Madeira, both in Portugal,
and the Museu Nacional/Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
This work could not have materialised were it not for the time and
good will of several persons: those born in Madeira and residing in Trinidad:
the late Maria Assunção de Jesus Abreu, Gil M. Ferreira, José João Pereira
(now in the U.S.A.), Maria Izilda Mendonça Perneta, the late Maria Mónica
Reis Pestana, and the late João Teixeira Neves; and those Trinbagonians of
Portuguese ancestry: Bella Gomes Bonfigli, Lewis Fernandes Camacho Jr.,
Abel Coelho Jr., Amanda Dias Correia, Donna Perneta Farah, José Eugenio
(Joseph Eugene) Fernandes, Andrieta Pestana Fernandes, Ignatius Seveirano
Ferreira, Mathilda Alzira Teixeira Ferreira, Maria Dorothy Gonsalves,
Carmelita Gouveia, Emmanuel Marcelino Mendes, Miguel Pereira, the late
Elsie de Nobriga Pereira, Jacintho “Sonny” Rodrigues de Souza, Anthony
Xavier, Martin Xavier, John Jude Xavier, Emmanuel Norbert Ferreira, Jerome
Everard Dominic Ferreira, Maria Rita Elinor Ferreira Gomes, John Wayne
Quintal, Joseph D. Cabral, Colin Ferreira, the late German Clement Govia,
Patricia Gouveia Guillaume, Bernard Tappin and Linda dos Santos
Ragoonanan.
Special thanks to Mrs. B. Ramlogan of the Computer Centre for her
help in data processing; to Elias Jorge Rodrigues Siqueira Nunes and Maria
Angélica Iguaracema Rodrigues da Costa Maha, Brazilian lecturers in
Portuguese language, and to members of the Department of Liberal Arts in the
Faculty of Humanities and Education at the University of the West Indies, St.
Augustine. All these persons, and many countless others, I thank for being an
integral part of the ongoing process of the historical documentation of the
Portuguese and their language in Trinidad and Tobago.
To my Alpha and Omega again, thank you Jesus.

Philippians 3:7–11
 iii

DEDICATION

To my beloved parents, Mom and Dad,

Veronica Sharon Carter Ferreira and Joseph Roderick Ferreira
 iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abstract

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1. Introduction 1

Scope and Limitations

Methodology and Data Collection

Chapter 2. Language Obsolescence 37

Language Maintenance, Shift and Death

Instances of Language Maintenance and Loss
The Theory of Ethnic Core Values

Chapter 3. The Social History of the Portuguese Language in

Trinidad and Tobago 75
Multilingual Trinidad before the Arrival of
Portuguese Speakers
Brief History of the Immigration of Portuguese
Speakers into Trinidad
The Portuguese Language in the Context of
Multilingual Trinidad

Chapter 4 The Demographic Background to the Portuguese

Speech Community 102

Numbers and Records

Origins and Residential Patterns
Marriage Patterns
Portuguese Ethnicity in Trinidad Today

Chapter 5. The Portuguese Speech Community of Trinidad 147

Speech Community
Social Networks
The Portuguese Speech Community from 1846 to the 1940s
Portuguese in Religious Circles
Portuguese in the Business Arena
The Two Portuguese Social Clubs
 v

TABLE OF CONTENTS
(continued)

Chapter 6. Presentation of the Data 199

Oral Data
General List of Oral Data
Some Portuguese Names in Trinidad
Song Fragments
Proverbs
Written Data
Portuguese in English Language Texts
Portuguese Influenced English and
Trinidadian English Creole

Chapter 7. Analysis of the Data 1: Lexico-Semantic Survivals 225

Surviving Domains in Trinidad

Food Names
Religion
Taboo Words
Songs and Miscellaneous Survivals
Names and Surnames
Portuguese Influence on Trinidadian English

Chapter 8. Analysis of the Data 2: Phonological Change 251

Outline of Madeiran Portuguese Phonology
Oral Data
The Phonemes of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad
Analysis of Phonological Change in Trinidad
Written Data
“Portuguese Shop in George Street”
Pitch Lake
Portuguese Dance
Other

Chapter 9. The Life Cycle of the Portuguese Language in

Trinidad 313
Earlier Language Maintenance
The Process of Language Shift
The Death of the Portuguese Language in Trinidad

Chapter 10. Conclusion

vi

TABLE OF CONTENTS
(continued)

Bibliography 349

Appendices
A. Profiles of Informants 373
B. Questionnaire Parts I and II 390
C. Consulate Files: Livros de Matrícula
and Registos de Passaportes 393
D. The Azoreans 397
E. Madeiran Immigration 400
F. Madeirans in Guyana and St. Vincent 411
G. Letters in the Press using the Portuguese language 413
 vii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Figures

Figure 1 Three Groups of Portuguese Speakers 33

Figure 2 Language Maintenance across Four Generations 320
Figure 3 Language Death in Two Generations 333

Charts

Chart 1 Year of Arrival 115

Chart 2 Madeiran Registrants per County of Origin 120
Chart 3 Age on Arrival 131
Chart 4 Year of Birth 132

Maps

Map 1 Map of Madeira and Porto Santo 121

Map 2 Map of Trinidad and Tobago 126
Map 3 Map of Port-of-Spain 128
 viii

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1 Numbers of Portuguese in Trinidad

107
Table 2 Table showing origins of Madeirans registered with the
Portuguese Consulate 118
Table 3 Table showing origins of non-Madeirans registered with
the Portuguese Consulate 122
Table 4 Local Residence of Persons Registered with the Portuguese
Consulate 123
Table 5 Professions of Portuguese Immigrants 134
Table 6 Table showing Marriage Patterns among Informants 138
Table 7 Contrastive Chart of the Consonant Phonemes of Madeiran
Portuguese in Trinidad 254
Table 8 Contrastive Chart of the Consonant Phonemes of Semi-
Speaker Portuguese in Trinidad
256
Table 9 Contrastive Chart of the Vowel Phonemes of Madeiran
Portuguese in Trinidad 266
Table 10 Contrastive Chart of the Vowel Phonemes of Semi-Speaker
Portuguese in Trinidad 267
 ix

ABBREVIATIONS AND SYMBOLS

Phonetic Symbols

Consonants

Zo\ voiceless bilabial plosive

Za\ voiced bilabial plosive
Zs\ voiceless alveolar plosive
Zc\ voiced alveolar plosive
Zj\ voiceless velar plosive
Zɡ\ voiced velar plosive
Ze\ voiceless labio-dental fricative
Zu\ voiced labio-dental fricative
Zr\ voiceless alveolar fricative
Zy\ voiced alveolar fricative
Zʃ\ voiceless alveo-palatal fricative
Zʒ\ voiced alveo-palatal fricative
Zg\ voiceless glottal continuant
Zʧ\ voiceless alveo-palatal affricate
Zʤ\ voiced alveo-palatal affricate
Zl\ voiced bilabial nasal
Zm\ voiced alveolar nasal
Zɲ\ voiced palatal nasal
Zŋ\ voiced velar nasal
Zɾ\ voiced alveolar tap
Zq\ voiced alveolar trill
Zʁ\ voiced uvular fricative
Zɹ\ voiced alveolar frictionless continuant or approximant
Zk\ voiced alveolar lateral
Zkˠ\ voiced velarised alveolar lateral
Zʎ\ voiced palatal lateral
Zv\ voiced labio-velar semi-vowel
Zi\ voiced palatal semi-vowel
 x
ABBREVIATIONS AND SYMBOLS
(continued)
Vowels
Zh\ oral close front unrounded vowel
Zɪ\ oral near-close front unrounded vowel
Zd\ oral close-mid front unrounded vowel
Zɛ\ oral open-mid front unrounded vowel
Z`\ oral open front unrounded vowel
Zɑ\ oral open back unrounded vowel
Zə\ oral mid central unrounded vowel
Zʌ\ oral open-mid back unrounded vowel
Zt\ oral close back rounded vowel
Zʊ\ oral near-close back rounded vowel
Zn\ oral close-mid back rounded vowel
Zɔ\ oral open-mid back rounded vowel

Other
Z}\ nasalisation
Zʰ\ aspiration
Z˳\ de-voicing or voicelessness
Zː\ lengthening
/ / phonemic
Z\ phonetic
Zˈ\ primary stress
Z ̩\ syllabic

Abbreviations
adj. adjective
acc. accusative
adv. adverb
art. article
col. colloquial
conj. conjunction
dim. diminutive
excl. exclamation
f. feminine
imf. imperfect
imp. imperative
ind. indicative
int. interrogative
I.P.A. International Phonetic Association

xi
ABBREVIATIONS AND SYMBOLS
(continued)

L1 first language
L2 second language
m. masculine
n. noun
n. prop. proper noun
nom. nominative
num. numeral adjective or noun
off. offensive
p.p. past participle
pl. plural
poss. possessive
pp. past participle
prep. preposition
pres. present tense
pron. pronoun
s. sentence
sg. singular
TBh Trinidadian Bhojpuri
TE Trinidadian English
TEC Trinidadian English-lexicon Creole
TFC Trinidadian French-lexicon Creole
TY Trinidadian Yoruba
vb. verb
 1

INTRODUCTION

The focus of this thesis is the Portuguese language in Trinidad. This is a

study of language shift and language loss among Madeiran Portuguese

immigrants and their descendants. The primary aim of this study is the

investigation of the patterns of language use and eventual disuse among

members of this group over the last 150 years. Such an investigation will

therefore take into account the external language history of Portuguese in

Trinidad, which includes both the socio-historical forces behind and the

psychological reasons for the community’s ultimate shift to English and

abandonment of Portuguese. An understanding of the external language

history will assist in the analysis of available linguistic data, and so

document and account for internal change.

Beginning in the year 1846, hundreds of Portuguese speakers

immigrated to Trinidad from the Madeira Islands. Although there were at

least three smaller Portuguese groups which had previously immigrated circa

1630, in 1811, and in 1834, these immigrants included persons from the
Portuguese mainland, Sephardic Jews, and Azoreans, isolated and unrelated

in origin to the immigrants of 1846. The earlier migrations proved to be

relatively insignificant because of the small size of the groups, and because

of the transient nature of the immigrants’ sojourn. Unlike those earlier, in-

transit groups, the majority of the Portuguese immigrants of the 1840s and

onwards, comprising both Catholic immigrants and Presbyterian refugees

from Madeira, chose to settle in Trinidad and Tobago.1

Today, despite strong external assimilatory pressures over time, there

is a group of persons in Trinidad of Portuguese origin that may be loosely

described as the “Portuguese community.” Some of these Portuguese

descendants have managed to preserve some of their ethnic identity, if only

from an intra-group point of view. Except for knowledge of family

connections and surnames, there are no locally accepted criteria for

identifying individuals as Portuguese in Trinidad and Tobago.

In their discussion of membership in an immigrant group, Dabène

1
Except for three or four families of Portuguese origin that settled in Tobago in the
earlier twentieth century, no Portuguese community ever developed in Tobago, and therefore
that island does not fall under this investigation. However, the use of the name “Trinidad and
Tobago” refers to the modern nation as a unit, with Trinidad being considered a region of the
nation.
and Moore state that “group membership a priori is first determined by birth,

and is strengthened through family and kinship relations. A posteriori, it is

determined by the individual’s decisions (Dittmar 1989)” (23).2

The modern Portuguese community is no longer a migrant group, but

membership must still be first determined by birth and family ties. For the

purposes of this study, members are defined as not only those who are the

products of endogamous Portuguese unions, but also those who are the

products of exogamous unions, whether or not they consider themselves to

be ‘Portuguese’ or members of the community.3 The latter are included in

this definition, since products of exogamous unions, especially where the

mother is Portuguese-born or a first generation creole, have also been

exposed to the language, sometimes as much as or more than the offspring of

endogamous unions.

In this study, unless otherwise specified, the terms ‘Madeiran,’

2
It would appear that within the community there were and are different criteria for
identifying an individual as ‘Portuguese.’ The Madeiran Portuguese Association’s
membership criteria were based on paternal lineage, while the creole Portuguese Club used
both paternal and maternal lines for membership criteria (cf. J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 77).
See chapter 5’s discussion of these two institutions.
3
An endogamous union is the union of two persons belonging to the same social
group, that is, marriage within one’s own group, while an exogamous union is the term given
to marriage outside one’s community. See chapter 4 for further discussion.
‘Madeiran Portuguese’ and ‘Portuguese’ are used interchangeably to refer to

the group under investigation, since informants themselves use these terms in

this way.

Madeira is an island chain in the Eastern Atlantic, claimed for

Portugal in the fifteenth century, and is one of the regions of the Portuguese

Republic, which is both continental and insular. The Madeiras or Madeira

Islands form an integral part of that nation, and is today a self-governing

region within modern Portugal. The archipelago was uninhabited before

Portuguese settlement, and the majority of its settlers were speakers of

Portuguese. The Madeiran archipelago possesses its own so-called insular

variety of Portuguese, and this investigation will therefore take into

consideration only the Madeiran Portuguese dialect that was brought to

Trinidad. The study excludes expatriate speakers of other dialects of

Portuguese, unless they became members of the community through

marriage to Madeirans in Trinidad or to Portuguese creoles of Madeiran

origin.
 Of the three main Romance languages to come to Trinidad,4 Spanish,

French, and Portuguese, the latest of the three, Portuguese, has been the

focus of little or no research, and has had the shortest life-span of the three

in the local context. The nineteenth century Portuguese arrivals came to an

already established British colony, and the migration of these speakers of

Portuguese, comparatively fewer than those from other Latin groups, took

place over a far shorter period than for the speakers of other Latin languages.

Unlike the early Spanish conquerors and the first prosperous French settlers,

the Portuguese came to Trinidad as indentured labourers, religious refugees

and small shop-keepers. Although the religious refugees in particular came

from a variety of social backgrounds, the majority of Madeiran immigrants

had been peasants in Madeira. Because of the timing and circumstances of

their migration, and because the only jobs available to them in Trinidad were

low-status, they therefore held the lowest socio-political and economic status

of these three very separate and very different groups.

4
The historically accepted dates for the entry of each of these languages are as
follows: Spanish – 1498, with the arrival of Columbus, French – 1783, when the Cedula de
Población was made effective, and Portuguese – 1834, with the arrival of the Azoreans. The
Italian language was also present in Trinidad, but was spoken by too few to leave any lasting
impact (Gamble 28).
 In Trinidad, the Portuguese were one of several non-anglophone low-

status immigrant groups of the nineteenth century, at which time the

sociolinguistic hierarchy of Trinidad was already established. They found

themselves in a complex sociolinguistic setting where Creole French, Creole

English and immigrant languages were the languages of daily reality, but

where English was increasingly promoted as the language of prestige.

Although English was out of the reach of most of the population, the

exclusive promotion of that language was ultimately to the detriment of all

other languages, powerless and powerful, including its former rival, the once

socially powerful French.

In the twentieth century, some individuals of both Portuguese birth

and descent were able to and chose to forsake their humble beginnings and

went on to achieve national prominence for themselves and by extension, for

their community. However, few (whether group insiders or outsiders) have

taken an active interest in recording the fate and contributions of the

community as a whole. Rarely have the Portuguese in Trinidad allowed

themselves to become the object of scrutiny, for reasons that include

jealously guarded privacy and a general tendency towards social

unobtrusiveness.5 The numerous descendants of Madeiran Portuguese in

Trinidad and Tobago have therefore seldom been the subject of serious

inquiry, despite their social and economic achievements. The community

has been artistically portrayed through the medium of two novels and a film.6

However, except for a few studies, including a 1994 publication by the

author (The Portuguese of Trinidad and Tobago: Portrait of an Ethnic

Minority), the Portuguese community has not been the focus of higher

research and study, either from an intra-group or extra-group point of view,

and least of all by linguists in any field of linguistics.

The ancestral language of the Portuguese in Trinidad is now no

longer spoken at a community level within this country, and there are no

young Trinidadian native speakers of Portuguese. Like Portuguese

immigrants in France and elsewhere, the home language of the Portuguese in

Trinidad was one of the varieties of regional Portuguese, seldom Standard

Portuguese. In Trinidad, they spoke dialects of insular Madeiran Portuguese,

5
In his article, “The Portuguese in the United States,” Raul d’Eça also examines the
reserved nature of Portuguese immigrants in the United States.
6
The full-length movie, “Angel in a Cage,” is the first of a trilogy by Mary Jane
Gomes and premiered in June 1999. It is the story of a Portuguese family in Trinidad and is
set in 1929. The second and third parts of the trilogy are set around the same time period, in
Madeira and Trinidad, respectively.
which is one of “les langues populaires et régionales” of Portugal (Silva and

Carvalho 53).7 It is these language varieties which are in danger of dying

out among immigrants, not modern Standard Portuguese which remains

vibrant in the homeland and elsewhere as “la langue nationale, normalisée,

moyen de communication nationale, voire internationale.”8 Indeed, the

Portuguese language is very much operative on every continent today, as the

national language of Portugal and Brazil, as the official language of the five

PALOP countries (Países Africanos de Língua Oficial Portuguesa),9 as the

colonial language of three Portuguese Asian territories (Goa, Macao and

Timor), and also as the language of several large immigrant communities in

North and South America, Western Europe, South Africa, and Australia

(Ferronha 21, 131).

Like other languages in Trinidad, Portuguese may be termed a

“heritage language,” meaning that it is the ancestral language of the modern

Portuguese community, but it is no longer necessarily spoken by the

7
“Popular and regional languages.”
8
“The codified, national language, medium of national, indeed international,
communication” (Silva and Carvalho 53).
9
Portuguese-official African countries, namely Angola, Cape Verde, Guinea-Bissau,
Mozambique and São Tomé e Príncipe.
descendants of the original immigrants (Winer, “Ethnic Lexis” 65). In

Winer’s article, Portuguese is described as an “ethnolect,” defined in the

context of Trinidad and Tobago as

a speaker’s variety of EC/TT (English Creole of Trinidad and

Tobago) which contains linguistic features – including lexical ones –
that result from the influence of a language other than English, and
that are shared with other members of a speech community. (67)

In the case of the Trinidadian Portuguese community, there are very few

remaining linguistic features, including lexical ones, that are known at an

intra-community level by all or even by a significant minority. Unlike

Bhojpuri which is a true ethnolect according to that definition and has

contributed about 1,800 words to EC/TT, the Portuguese contribution is

fewer than ten lexical items (Winer, “Ethnic Lexis” 73 n.5, cf. Baksh-

Soodeen 5–6). This is also true for Chinese, German and other heritage

languages in Trinidad. Winer’s main source of information for Portuguese is

the forerunner of this investigation, a 1989 study by the author, “Some

Aspects of Portuguese Immigration into Trinidad and Tobago: An

Investigation Based on Oral History.” As the title indicates, the approach to

that project was one of oral history, and that study itemises the most
common surviving words known to members of the creole Portuguese

community. All of those words are analysed in this study from phonological

and lexico-semantic perspectives, in addition to less widely known lexical

items and phrases.

Over the last century, the community has been almost fully

assimilated into the wider society on all levels – social, cultural, racial and

linguistic. Initially, this small immigrant group put up community resistance

against assimilatory demands, but succumbed before overpowering societal

pressure towards linguistic and socio-cultural conformity. The result is that

today the language and culture of the local Portuguese community in

Trinidad may be described as being practically extinct among most

descendants of the original immigrants. It is remarkable, however, that

despite the factor of absorption, and other considerations that include

unsteady patterns of migration and relatively limited numbers, some

descendants of twentieth century immigrants appear to have been successful

not only in the preserving of ties with Madeira, but also in the apparent

preservation of the Portuguese language to varying degrees of competence.

This curious fact, namely individual attempts at cultural and linguistic self-
preservation which have resulted in the survival of vestiges of the language,

invites an examination of the life cycle of the language.

This examination includes the reasons for its early maintenance, later

shift and ultimate loss among the majority of its speakers and their

descendants, and the reasons for its apparent persistence among the

community minority. Since no account of the use of language among

members of this group has ever been undertaken, this fact warrants an

attempt to do so now and indeed makes this investigation wholly original.

This thesis is also of sociological and anthropological value since it is

partly a synchronic study of the modern Portuguese community. An

examination of the norms and values of the modern social and sociolinguistic

behaviour of this group also gives important insight into past patterns of

interaction among members of the Portuguese community whose main

language was Portuguese, and contributes to an understanding of the

complex social make-up of Trinidadian and Tobagonian society. This study

is significant in terms of its contribution to language contact situations

leading to attrition, as well as its potential to expand the understanding of the

Caribbean language situation in general.

 Post-emancipation Portuguese migration is not unique to Trinidad and

Tobago. Within the anglophone Caribbean, far greater numbers settled in

Guyana and comparable numbers in St. Vincent, and Antigua, and also St.

Kitts, and Grenada, among other territories. While there has been substantial

chronicling of the history of the Portuguese in the Caribbean (Menezes for

Guyana, Ciski and Ralph Gonsalves (forthcoming, personal communication)

for St. Vincent, and J. Ferreira for Trinidad and Tobago10), there have been

no studies done on their language anywhere in the Caribbean to date.

While the region has been a rich mine for creolists, few linguistic

analyses have been carried out on minority immigrant or “ethnic” European

languages in the modern anglophone territories, apart from K.M. Laurence’s

and Moodie’s works on Spanish in Trinidad, and Müller’s study on German

in Jamaica, and others that do not deal directly with language, such as de

Verteuil’s histories of the German and Irish communities in Trinidad.11 It is

expected that this study will contribute to the recognition of the place and

10
The 1997 article by Vale de Almeida, “Ser Português na Trinidad: Etnicidade,
Subjectividade e Poder,” is “the narrative of a professional and personal relationship” between
that author and the author of this thesis (31).
11
See also broader studies on the Trinidad and Tobago language situation by Sealey
and Aquing, and Baksh-Soodeen.
rôle of non-creolised European languages in the English-official Caribbean

region.

Scope and Limitations

Limitations

As de Boissière acknowledged, the Madeiran Portuguese immigrants

in Trinidad were not the continental Portuguese slave traders who had come

to the Americas centuries before (17). This distinction is important since this

thesis does not deal with the well-known Portuguese influence on Creoles

seen in words such as bagasse, balangene, caca, creole, molasses, mustee,

mulatto, pickney and sabi.12 Allsopp says that caca, for example, “is likely

to have gained its widely established currency and very low status in the

New World from early Portuguese dominance of the West African Slave

Coast” (128), and pickney “was current in early Portuguese control of

slaving on the Slave Coast” (438–39). The history of the movement of

Madeiran Portuguese labourers and refugees to Trinidad and other West

Indian territories is entirely separate from that of the early slave traders in

the Americas, and the focus of this study is solely on the Portuguese from

12
See Goodman 391, Holm, Pidgins and Creoles 74–79, 90–92, and passim, and
Allsopp li, and 56.
Madeira and on their language in Trinidad.

Since the aim of this thesis is the examination of the life cycle of

Portuguese in Trinidad and the community’s patterns of language use, this

inquiry involves an analysis of the socio-historical background to the

immigration of Portuguese speakers, as well as the demography of the

immigrant group on arrival and during later settlement in Trinidad. Also

important is an investigation of the social and psychological factors that

encouraged language maintenance and of those that weighed heavily against

or endangered language survival. This focus on the social and the

psychological is important because social factors “play a major role in

determining the specific effects of a particular language contact” (Hock 7),

and psychological factors, reflecting a group’s values and attitudes, are

equally significant in deciding the course of a language.

This enquiry takes an interdisciplinary approach which is vital in

studies of language and cultural shift (cf. Nelde 85). The study reflects the

involvement of several related disciplines – sociology, ethnology, and

anthropology, all of which overlap to various degrees. As a study of

language death, this thesis falls under the label of socio-historical linguistics
and/or of the sociology of language. It may also be described as an

anthropological linguistic study as its focus is a small cultural group and its

use of language (cf. Crystal 20). Another suitable label is ethnolinguistic,

since the focus of this thesis is the Portuguese language in relation to the

language behaviour of a specific cultural or ethnic group (Crystal 126).

Finally, another linguistics sub-discipline under which this study falls is that

of contact linguistics.

Quantitative approaches that are used for large bodies of data samples

elicited from large social groups are not practical in this particular case for

two reasons: the state of the language and the size of the group. In the first

place, many studies of language death deal with languages in earlier stages

of attrition, and secondly, the groups are often larger. Therefore a wider

range and quantity of data in these cases are usually available from a greater

number of people. In terms of actual numbers of speakers, the current

number of native-born Madeiran lusophones in Trinidad is now fewer than

seventeen, and there are no more than a handful of Portuguese speakers

among the first and second creole generations. Another factor limiting a

quantitative analysis of the data is the fact that this study deals with a loosely
knit body of persons that is no longer definable nor identifiable as a separate

social entity. The Portuguese community is in great measure a reality of the

recent past, up to approximately the 1960s, rather than the present. The very

term ‘community’ is a leftover from the past. It is difficult to define and

describe the Portuguese descendants today as a community, comparable to

the Arab community in Trinidad, for example, where fairly strict rules of

endogamy still prevail, and in which family and business ties are still very

strong (cf. Laquis). It is therefore difficult to statistically assess a group such

as the Portuguese and to establish frequencies in the linguistic data.

Language attrition is “a slow but steady atrophy in the use and

structure of a language which is being replaced by another, dominant form of

speech” (Hock 7). This study will firstly define the terminology of language

death, and will examine both traditional and current theories of language

shift and death. An examination of the factors crucial to the development of

a minority immigrant language will serve to highlight the directions taken by

Portuguese in Trinidad, and the focus is on the history of this group’s

language behaviour up to the present. The thesis places the description of

the life cycle of the Portuguese language in Trinidad in a global context

alongside studies of a similar nature13 (cf. Cortes, Pap, Schoenmakers-Klein

Gunnewiek, Silva, and Stephens).

The second area of investigation to be considered is the external

language history of Portuguese. The thesis will examine the advent of

Madeiran Portuguese speakers en masse into polyglot nineteenth century

Trinidad, and discuss the impact of the social history of Trinidad on the

linguistic evolution of immigrant Portuguese. This thesis will attempt to

locate the first speakers in their socio-historical context, to investigate the

sociolinguistic dynamics operating in their new host society, to examine the

pressures that beset the migrants on arrival and in the course of their

settlement, and to ascertain the social position of the Portuguese language

from a historical point of view – who were these speakers, and why they

came to Trinidad.

Thirdly, because of the unreliability of records pertaining to the

13
Efforts to gain access to potentially important unpublished studies by the following
researchers proved futile: John B. Jensen (“Phonological Interference: A Study of the English
Pronunciation of Portuguese Immigrant Children in Fall River, Massachusetts.” Diss. (Ph.D.)
Harvard University, 1970), and Miguel Abreu de Castro Parreira (“Immigração portuguesa na
América do Norte; considerações histórico-sociais e lingüísticas.” Diss. (Ph.D.)
Universidade Clássica de Lisboa, 1969). It was proved impossible to gain access to the
following potentially useful studies: Milton M. Azevedo’s A Contrastive Phonology of
Portuguese and English (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 1981), and Donald
P. Macedo’s “Stereotyped Attitudes toward Various Portuguese Accents,” Focus 4 (1981).
numbers of Portuguese in Trinidad, particularly during the earliest periods of

immigration, combined with the dearth of information on the linguistic

experiences of the early immigrants, accurate and full reconstruction of the

nineteenth century community and its use of language at different stages is

very difficult. The thesis will, however, attempt to statistically analyse the

demography of the group, based largely on mostly twentieth century

immigration files from the honorary Portuguese Consulate. All of these

extra-group factors of immigration and contact had an impact on the ultimate

choice of language made both by individuals, and by the community as a

whole.

Fourthly, in order to understand the course taken by the language, it

is necessary to understand the social structure of the Portuguese speech

community, its internal social networks, and the efficacy of their language

support mechanisms. Establishing this framework of the intra-group

structure will assist in shedding historical light on the voyage of the language

from life to death, since the destiny of the language was set in motion during

the early years of migration.

Fifthly, the investigation makes available actual remnants of the

language as they exist today, from both oral and extant written sources. A

general list of oral data, comprising mostly lexical items, is presented. This

is followed by shorter lists of surnames and personal names, song fragments,

and the written data.

Next, the study undertakes a two-part linguistic analysis and

evaluation of the data corpus presented. The first part of the analysis

considers the reasons for the survival of specific lexico-semantic categories,

and explores the meaning and significance of patterns found in the data.

The second part of the linguistic analysis to be undertaken is an

examination of the phonological changes in evidence from generation to

generation. This analysis actually shows parts of the language in its initial

stages of life among the immigrants, and subsequent stages, slowly moving

through the process of atrophy and decay through successive generations.

Drawing together the information so far presented, the study then

goes on to describe the actual life cycle of the language. It will discuss the

circumstances under which the language was used as well as the attitudes of

the speakers of the Portuguese language in Trinidad. Chapter 9 will both

analyse and account for the processes of language maintenance, shift and
eventual death.

Finally, the thesis will consider both the theoretical and practical

implications of the findings and will offer an appreciation of its contribution

to already known facts about language death and about Portuguese in a

multilingual/English-official environment.

Methodology and Data Collection

In order to obtain linguistic and extra-linguistic data, both oral and

written sources were utilised. For strictly linguistic data, the study relies

mainly on the contemporary oral sources that are still available within the

Portuguese community, and to a lesser degree on extant written references.

With regard to the written sources of linguistic data, those that are

available are surveyed to gain an understanding of actual language

behaviour. The texts examined here focus mainly on the English and/or

English Creole used by Portuguese immigrants, and provide some insight

into the immigrants’ language acquisition experiences leading to

bilingualism. No texts are available to show the use of Portuguese either by

immigrants themselves or by first and second generation creoles. According

to Winer,

historical texts challenge the linguist; they may be authentic examples

of speech from past centuries, and rewarding sources of information
about linguistic situations that cannot otherwise be retrieved. (“Early
Trinidadian Creole” 181)

There are, however, drawbacks to relying on historical texts, since “their

accuracy is much more difficult to evaluate than that of field notes or tape

recordings,” as Winer notes (181). Caribbean scholars who have relied on

written texts “as a window on the linguistic past” (Rickford 302) include

Cassidy, Hancock, Lalla, D’Costa, Robertson, and Rickford, and most of

these works (with the exception of Robertson’s) focus on the English-lexicon

Creoles of various Caribbean territories (Winer, “Early Trinidadian Creole”

181).

With the exception of at least three extant creative pieces of writing,

few written texts provide actual examples of the immigrants’ speech. The

writings that contain references to Portuguese speech in Trinidad are, in

chronological order:

(1) the script for a skit, “Portuguese Shop in George Street” by an

anonymous writer (Penny Cuts, 17 September 1904),

 (2) Pitch Lake, the 1934 novel by Alfred Hubert Mendes, a

Trinidadian author of Portuguese descent,14 and

(3) a 1947 calypso, Portuguese Dance by calypsonian King Pharaoh.15

All are able, to varying degrees, to cast some light on language use in

the Portuguese community.

The three texts are surveyed mainly for any persistent influence of

Portuguese on their second language(s), English and Trinidadian English-

lexicon Creole, examined for their reliability and legitimacy, and considered

as sources for reconstruction of a possible immigrant “Portuguese English”

where possible. There are other texts of interest and these will be briefly

considered as well.16 For other written linguistic data, little has survived,

since the files of the Portuguese Association are not available for scrutiny,

“all correspondence up to 1935 having been destroyed” (Reis, Associação

Portugueza 7), and neither personal nor business correspondence was

14
Mendes began another novel, a satire of the Portuguese business community, but it
was destroyed and no known trace of it remains (Sander, The Trinidad Awakening 89).
15
At least three other calypsoes mention the Portuguese presence in Trinidad, but
“Portuguese Dance” is the only one containing any kind of reference to the language of the
Portuguese in Trinidad.
16
See chapter 6.
available from informants.17

Apart from actual language data, insight into the intra-group and

extra-group language attitudes of the past, as well as an understanding of

extra-linguistic factors responsible for language vitality and later death, have

also come through both contemporary written and oral sources. The written

sources are largely historical commentaries generally containing passing

references to the sociolinguistic acclimatisation of Portuguese immigrants to

their new environment, and include texts and articles and also novels. The

oral sources were the author’s informants who offered their own opinions on

the language and its use, and who acted as witnesses to parents’ and

grandparents’ language behaviour and attitudes.

The research framework for eliciting oral data was essentially one of

approaching language informants through family and other relationships. It

was possible to find a few valuable and helpful informants in groups with a

heavy overlap of kinship and friendship links. Personal ties were extremely

important in the eliciting of information, and success depended largely on

17
It would have been interesting to have access to correspondence from Trinidad to
Madeira. Some informants have preserved letters and photographs (with inscriptions at the
back in Portuguese) from relatives in Madeira.
such connections. For example, for reasons of kinship ties and existing

intimacy, the most approachable and loquacious informant was the author’s

grandmother, informant B09, who could be approached at almost any time,

without a formal appointment. Other informants were accessed through

informal social contacts, that is, previously established mutual acquaintances,

who were either family or friends of the interviewer and/or of other

interviewees. Since the author’s large paternal family is of Portuguese

descent, several older family members helped in pinpointing possible

informants inside and outside family circles, and in setting up first meetings

with friends and acquaintances. Although the author was born into a

generation that grew up largely ignorant and unaware of connections

between families, most of the informants chosen belonged to older

generations and had much keener insight into kinship links, community

structure and language use than the younger generations. Having an

obviously Portuguese surname also helped in conducting research, since

informants could ask questions and place the author in the context of her

family to their satisfaction. It was important to declare kinship and social

ties in order to establish contact and to build confidence. The more

friendships that were developed, the better it was for increased trust which in

turn assisted in the elicitation of data.

Where possible, mutual acquaintances facilitated introductions to

informants outside the interviewer’s immediate social or family circle. In the

case of personal introductions, these visits were followed up by telephone

calls and visits, depending on the interest and availability of the prospective

informants. While family and other associations proved to be very helpful,

other contacts were made with no intermediary, either over the telephone or

in person, and these sometimes proved to be the more difficult to plough.

Most first meetings and subsequent interviews took place in the homes or

offices of informants and at times convenient to them.

In an attempt to locate ‘suitable’ informants, that is, speakers of

Portuguese or those who grew up hearing, understanding and/or speaking

Portuguese, it was important to approach the community through the social

group rather than through the language.18 Some of these persons were met in

the course of the author’s 1989 study, and during research on culture and

entrepreneurship among the Portuguese and their descendants. The results of

18
See chapter 5 for a discussion of social networks.
the latter were published in the author’s 1994 monograph. For the 1989

project, interviews that focused on oral history took place over a period of

four months with two Madeirans, five first generation creoles, and six second

generation creoles.19 For the 1994 publication, interviews concentrating on

entrepreneurship took place during the period 1992 to 1994. These two

studies preceding this thesis were of a socio-cultural nature, and focused on

areas that informants felt comfortable discussing. The studies revealed the

linguistic insecurity of many first and second generation creoles and showed

that informants were often unwilling to divulge their linguistic knowledge

outside of the context of history and culture.

The valuable experience gained during the course of those studies

proved to be a bridge to this thesis. Those studies helped to clarify the social

structure of the modern community for the author, and ultimately provided a

pool of possible linguistic informants with whom a good rapport had been

established. During those periods of research, some linguistic data was

discovered, and it became clear which of the informants would prove to be

19
See also the author’s “Some Aspects of Portuguese Immigration into Trinidad and
Tobago” in the OPReP Newsletter 8 (December 1989):3–5.
most helpful in providing further linguistic data themselves, or in

recommending persons to the author as possible future contacts, or both.

Some of the data dealt with in this thesis were elicited during the two earlier

periods of research on the Portuguese, as well as during 1995 and 1996.

Depending on their availability and dependability, some of the same

informants provided data for all three studies.

Informants for this thesis were selected on the basis of age, ethnicity,

a community-wide reputation for good language skills, and their willingness

to be interviewed. They were drawn from among both Madeiran-born and

creole Portuguese. All creole informants are members of either the first or

second generation with at least one immediate immigrant forebear of the

twentieth century. Other creoles, whose ancestors were immigrants of the

nineteenth century only, claimed to know no Portuguese, and therefore could

provide only socio-historical information, such as information on family

connections, but not language data.

Within their community, a few creoles were generally endorsed by

native-born Madeirans and other Portuguese expatriates as speakers of good

Portuguese. There are others known not as fluent speakers, but vaguely as
having some command of the Portuguese language. Those community

members able to indicate speakers of the Portuguese language did so on the

basis of kinship and intra-group social connections passed on by parents and

grandparents. These persons were therefore the first targets of investigation,

but not the only ones, as others who were less at the forefront of the

“community” eventually surfaced, and a few of these also made themselves

accessible.

An essential component of this study was the discovery of the

varying levels of language competence. It was necessary to develop

sensitivity to core ethnic values in general and to language attitudes in

particular. Eliciting language data was only possible on the basis of mutual

acquaintance or acquaintance with members of the author’s family, and

secondly on the basis of personal willingness to divulge information.

Selection of informants was therefore based on a filter of the interviewee’s

early receptivity to the author, as well as to the idea of being interviewed.

This filter was basically an informal interview with general culture-oriented

questions. The interview created and used was based on the author’s past

experience, and was devised to identify those interested in and capable of

becoming informants, and to quickly locate those who could be of most

value to this study. This filter was also aimed at excluding those who would

pose the most resistance and therefore provide the least information. Two

clear dangers in an early selection of potential fruitful respondents were the

possibilities of (1) prematurely dismissing those who could be of possible

value after further encouragement to participate, and of (2) keeping those

who were receptive largely out of curiosity and interest, but of little real

help. The latter obstacle was avoided by a second more in-depth interview,

while little could be done about the former, in view of constraints of time

and of the scope of this work.

The corpus of oral data was elicited from informants by means of

both informal and formal interviews. The former was basically a “getting

acquainted” conversation, with no notes or recordings taken, in order to keep

the potential informant as relaxed and comfortable as possible. Socio-

historical and cultural questions preceded language-oriented questions, and

the informants were encouraged to speak about the community’s history with

little intervention from the author.

The formal interview consisted of two parts: (a) tape-recording some

of the informants discussing areas of Portuguese culture pertaining to the

home and community, and (b) a written questionnaire dealing largely with

language attitudes, with specific questions designed to elicit Portuguese

names of certain items unique to the culture of the community.20 An earlier

questionnaire was formulated and based on Dorian’s 1981 interview format

and 1989 questionnaire, with some input from Rambissoon Sperl’s

questionnaire. However, it was found to be too detailed and tiring for the

elderly informants at whom it was targeted. It was therefore revised to

contain a few specific language questions and other open-ended ones. Also

considered was a list of 100 basic words compiled by Sarah Gudschinsky in

the field of lexicostatistics or glottochronology (Lehmann 107–108).

However, when tested on informant B09, it was found that she recalled only

12% of the words on the list, although she knew many other words and

expressions. During that session, the informant apologised frequently for her

inability to recall most of these basic words, since her practice of Portuguese

had practically come to an end in 1943, 56 years ago. Like the detailed

questionnaire, this list proved to be too intimidating and challenging for most

20
See appendix B.
of the first and second generation creoles, partly because it had no contextual

base, and partly because of either memory loss or language loss or both. It

effectively showed that the language as it exists among those groups is in a

state of atrophy that is too far advanced for standard methods of questioning

and eliciting data. The recorded sessions also used some of the language-

specific questions from the written questionnaire for the purpose of

transcribing pronunciations. The questionnaires were left with the

informants for collection at a later date, to give the respondents time and

freedom to reply. Not all informants, however, were recorded or given the

questionnaire. The elderly in particular were seldom keen on being taped or

on poring over a questionnaire. In such cases, notes were taken during

discussions, when permitted by the informants.

In a community whose language has become or is becoming

obsolescent, there are those whom Dorian calls “terminal speakers,” and

these are the speakers of a language who are not only among the last

remaining speakers of their community’s language, but whose own fluency is

endangered by lack of practice (Investigating Obsolescence 8). The main

problems in locating such persons lay firstly in the actual paucity of

interlocutors, and secondly in the problem of self-definition. Although none

of the informants was reluctant to declare ethnic group membership, not all

who were able to do so were willing to claim speaker status of any level of

fluency, except of course those born in Madeira who had immigrated in their

teens or older. Those Portuguese creoles unwilling to be identified as

speakers of Portuguese or as “good” informants hesitated because of

linguistic insecurity that was sometimes extreme, and because of exposure to

Portuguese only in Trinidad and not in Portugal. The written questionnaires

were administered mainly to those Trinidadians of Portuguese descent who

were known to possess some measure of competence in the language, that is,

those who may be said to belong to the categories of “terminal speaker” or

“semi-speaker” and “passive” to “near-passive bilingual.”21

The problem of negative prestige of the language is old and deep-

rooted because of historical reasons to be examined in chapters 3 to 5. This

affected the chances of confident language learning for several of those who

today may be classified as Dorian’s “semi-speakers.” Regrets about

ignorance of the language are now frequently expressed by members of the

21
See chapter 2 for a discussion and definition of terms used.
second and third creole generations, and also some first generation creoles,

particularly in the wake of increasing ethnic consciousness at a national level

in Trinidad and Tobago. The seed sown by intra-group and extra-group

stigmatisation has, however, borne permanent fruit. As a result, even

eliciting the limited data available was at times problematic. Feelings of

embarrassment and linguistic self-inadequacy resulted in would-be

informants concealing their limited knowledge, for fear of producing less

than ‘perfect’ utterances. In one case, for example, a well-educated

respondent, B06,22 who was identified by several others, including expatriate

Portuguese, as a good speaker of the language with very little grammatical

deviance or very few “mistakes,” was unhappy about being identified as a

fluent speaker of Portuguese. This was a result of his inadequate reading

and writing skills in Portuguese, and constant comparison, at both conscious

and sub-conscious levels, with his abilities in English as an educated native-

speaker. Self-assessment was an important consideration in selecting

informants, because any strong degree of reluctance to be interviewed clearly

militated against the possibility of the successful elicitation of data. While

22
See family tree in chapter 9.
group discussions may have helped to encourage the more inhibited and the

less confident, it was not always possible to organise such meetings. While

many of the informants were acquainted with one another, they came from a

variety of backgrounds and did not necessarily belong to the same social

sub-groupings. Arbitrarily grouping such persons together, with only the

writer as the common connection, might have been somewhat awkward and

ultimately counter-productive. The Madeiran-born, however, were often

very amenable to the idea of meeting with other native speakers of

Portuguese visiting from abroad. Group discussions within families were

found to be very helpful in stirring the memories of the older family

members.

Although all informants were able to affirm the existence of an ethnic

Portuguese community, within certain limitations, acceptance of the notion

of a speech community was a different matter. An ethnic group may be

described as a body of persons knit together on the basis of common cultural

and ancestral ties, historical or contemporary. A speech community, in the

words of Spradley and McCurdy, is “a community that shares a specific

linguistic code and the sociolinguistic rules of using and interpreting the
messages generated by that code” (386). Except for a few individuals and

families, most informants agreed that the Portuguese language was “dead”

on a community level, and that the shared linguistic code in this group is

now English, and no longer Portuguese. Most Portuguese creole informants

referred to Portuguese as a ‘foreign language,’ in the same vein as French

and Spanish, which are actually more familiar to them as taught subjects in

secondary schools.

In the past, cultural community occasions promoted the regular

assembling of Portuguese speakers and encouraged the development of at

least “semi-speakers.” The decline and disappearance of these events is

partially responsible for the reduction of language skills, even among

bilingual informants who are native speakers of Portuguese. Some of the

more recent immigrants, who meet only occasionally, would sooner converse

in English with each other than in their mother tongue. This depends on the

level and length of their acquaintance with each other, and on the absence or

presence of those around them whose comprehension of Portuguese is

limited or non-existent.

Second generation Trinidadian Portuguese have had so few

opportunities to practise using the language that they now struggle to recall

what they know, lacking in confidence and unconvinced that they are

successful in their attempts to reproduce their ethnic language. This

hesitation and faltering makes elicitation more difficult since some try to

change their pronunciation if they perceive that they are not being

understood or if bilingual immigrants are within earshot. In an interview

setting, the native speakers, literate in at least their own language, and

reasonably confident in their mastery of Portuguese and English, are able to

produce both careful formal Portuguese and rapid informal speech in a

casual situation, while the second and third generations usually shy away

from answering language-related questions or volunteering information.

Although there is a lack of structural linguistic diversity in the

competence of individuals in the creole generations, another type of

sociolinguistic variability has arisen due to unpredictable idiosyncratic

change. However, this synchronic monogenerational variation is not as

remarkable as is inter-generational change. A language facing death usually

begins to degenerate at the individual or ontogenetic level. The changes and

structural simplification that take place are therefore largely idiosyncratic.

What is produced varies from one individual to the other especially at the

intra-generational level. In most language death situations, the general

course of the process of sound change tends towards structural

simplification, especially at the individual level. Because of few

opportunities to use the language at an intra-group level, the language often

fails to develop at the community or phylogenetic level. The differences

from generation to generation may become so pronounced that mutual

intelligibility is not guaranteed at the community level.

Idiolectal variation is understandably most widespread by the second

and third generation creoles, some of whom may not be understood by

Portuguese speakers outside of the family, even less outside of the

community. The first creole generation acts as a bridge between the second

generation and the Madeirans. They are able to understand both groups,

although in a somewhat restricted way depending on the level of familiarity

with the language. Communication in groups becomes increasingly rare and

difficult to achieve simply because of the limited size of the community,

notwithstanding the fact that pairs or small groups of three or more may still

have occasion to come together and speak Portuguese.

 Informants are placed into three main linguistic sub-groupings, with

the main criteria being their place of birth, and their competence in

23
Portuguese, often self-assessed. These sub-divisions with details of their

characteristics are as follows:

GROUP A (“The Madeirans”) comprises bilinguals whose mother

tongue is Portuguese, that is to say, those born in Madeira who migrated to

Trinidad and Tobago between the 1920s to the 1960s. In the Portuguese

community today, there are now at least seventeen such persons, with the

recent passing of three persons, who were very willing informants.24 These

three Madeirans were among a total of six who willingly allowed themselves

to be interviewed. A number of factors have influenced their own

maintenance of the language and ultimately the transmission of the language

to their children, successful or not. These factors include age at migration,

prior schooling in Portuguese, marriage (to a Portuguese speaker or not),

23
See appendix A.
24
Since the time of the majority of interviews in 1996, a total of five informants have
passed away, including the three mentioned above, as well as the husbands of two, the fathers
of two and the mothers of two. Most of these persons passed away during the author’s
estágio in Brazil from February 1997 to July 1998.
return visits to Madeira and personal language attitudes. Almost all the

members of this group are bilingual in Madeiran Portuguese and Trinidadian

English Creole and/or Standard Trinidadian English. Most are literate in

Portuguese. Literacy skills in English vary widely, often with significant

interference from Portuguese. They range in age from 61 to 93.

Understanding language attitudes and ethnic values was key for this group.

Other persons born in Madeira migrated under the age of 6 and were

therefore educated in Trinidad. Their competence in English has long

transcended their competence in Portuguese and their linguistic behavioural

patterns resemble those of the following group.

GROUP B (“First Generation Creoles,” or G1) comprises a much

broader class of persons, of the first generation, born in Trinidad and Tobago

of Portuguese parentage. This group numbers in the hundreds and includes

both children of the living Madeirans of Group A and/or deceased

Portuguese immigrants. The fundamental criterion for placement in this

group is the Portuguese birth of at least one parent. It is mainly from this

group that data were elicited. While some have parents who were both

Portuguese-born, others have one Portuguese-born parent and one West

Indian-born parent of Portuguese or non-Portuguese descent. Nineteen

persons from this group were approached, largely because of their self-

confessed recollection of phrases and words in Portuguese. In some cases,

onlooker assessment of their competence helped, based on past performance

in groups. Again, acquaintance with the interviewer and readiness to share

their knowledge made selection possible. In terms of competence in

Portuguese, they range from semi-speakers and passive to near-passive

bilinguals to English-speaking monolinguals. In two unusual situations, the

respondents were educated in Portugal. In another rare case, the first

language of five siblings born in Trinidad was Portuguese. Although their

individual competence now differs, they are categorised as members of this

class rather than the first because of their place of birth and because the

language dropped out of regular use after childhood. Their behaviour now

resembles that of semi-speakers of the language. The majority, however, are

monolingual and literate in English and have had either partial or full

secondary education in English up to at least the age of 13. During

childhood, most were frequently exposed to use of the Portuguese language

at home by two or more elders in the home, whether or not such exposure
resulted in their own competence in Portuguese. They range in age from 35

to 90.

GROUP C (“Other Creoles,” or G2, G3, and so on) consists of

second and third generation Portuguese, the grandchildren of both living and

deceased Madeirans. They are further subdivided based on their parentage:

those with two Portuguese creole parents (Group CA), and those with one

(Group CB). Numbers in this group also potentially extend into the

hundreds. The overwhelming majority of the informants belonging to this

category are monolingual and literate in English, and have received full

secondary schooling at least up to the age of 16. Only those who claim to

recall at least hearing Portuguese in use at home were interviewed in this

category, even if they now remember no more than a few words. Some who

remember nothing at all are included in this group, if only to substantiate

claims of the complete loss and death of the language. A total of eleven

persons were selected for observation and comparison with the other groups.

They range in age from 37 to 70 years of age.

The following diagram represents the linguistic relationship among

members of each group. The shaded area shows the shared corpus of
elements of the Portuguese language.

Figure 1
Three Groups of Portuguese Speakers

Group A comprises twentieth-century Madeiran immigrants, native

speakers of Portuguese.

Group B consists of first generation Portuguese creoles, most of

whom were exposed in various measures to the Portuguese language; few are

actually native speakers of Portuguese, and some are semi-speakers of the

language.

Group C is composed of other creoles, among whom there are no

native speakers of Portuguese, but most have what they describe as a

smattering of the language, namely a few words and phrases.

Establishing such groupings allows for a look at the life cycle of the

Portuguese language in Trinidad and Tobago. Ideally, several families with

living members in all three categories, and with both sexes represented fairly
equally would provide case studies to help determine patterns of the process

of language shift and obsolescence. 25 Unfortunately, this is not the case,

given factors of death and migration, so members of families of varying

backgrounds and experiences have been chosen.

The interviewer’s use of University-learned Brazilian Portuguese

posed initial problems in allowing informants from Category A to feel at

ease conversing with her in Portuguese. This obstacle was ultimately

overcome by bringing another Portuguese speaker, from Portugal or Brazil,

whether acquainted with the informant or not. The discussion of other socio-

cultural areas that were sources of pride, to both the secure and the less

secure, were used as a springboard for the observation and recording of

language behaviour, including the extraction of language data and

sociolinguistic attitudes. A contemporary understanding of the reasons

behind language choice came from the self-assessment of individuals, their

recall of the competence and performance of their parents and other family

elders, as well as the interviewer’s observations. A month-long visit to

Portugal, including a week in Madeira, and fifteen months spent at Brazilian

25
See chapter 4 for reference to the importance of gender in language acquisition.
universities in Brasília and Rio de Janeiro took place after most of the data

were collected, but the exposure gained from both visits was helpful in the

analysis of the data..

In the minds of most members of Group A, the Portuguese language

is very much alive in light of its sustained vitality in Portugal, its homeland

of origin, and elsewhere in other lusophone areas of the world. Although not

the main group under study for linguistic data, their language attitudes are

important. The shift in language use in Trinidad actually began with native

Madeiran immigrant speakers of both centuries. The acquisition and

increasing use of English was accompanied by decreasing use of Portuguese,

and continued with the acquisition of English as a first language by the vast

majority of their children, members of Group B. The gradual death of the

language, which began in Group A with the shifting process, continued in

Groups B and C, resulting in a limited grasp of a few Portuguese lexical

items or none at all.

On the basis of both oral and written data, this thesis will examine the

factors behind the general attrition of Portuguese among members of the

Portuguese community on the one hand, and specific preservation on the

other. It will account for and analyse the processes involved in the

community’s change in language choice and use, with language shift and

death as the end result, and will examine the relationship of the Portuguese

language to the structure of the community in which it was used. Language

attitudes, use and choice were clearly affected by the history and

demography of the community. An understanding of the structure of two

family trees will also assist in showing the process of language shift at the

individual and family levels.

The twofold research focus here is firstly on the external language

history of Portuguese, that is, the historical forces that shaped the fate of the

group and its language and the inner workings of the community and its use

of language; and secondly, on extant language data. Past and current

theories of language obsolescence that are relevant to this case study will be

surveyed, and extant data will be examined in light of applicable theories.

These theories will provide the framework and undergirding for this thesis,

and will help to shed light on the complex, multilinguistic history and

modern sociolinguistic make-up of Trinidad and Tobago.

 2

LANGUAGE OBSOLESCENCE

In order to adequately assess the Portuguese language situation in Trinidad, it

is necessary to place this study in a relevant theoretical framework. This

chapter will therefore review theories of linguistic change leading to

language death, in particular the three main sub-fields of language

maintenance, language shift and actual language loss. Case studies that show

key points of similarity as well as others that diverge from this one are used

for comparison and contrast, so as to best evaluate the situation under study.

The sociolinguistic sub-field of language death is a continuously

developing area of linguistic research. Still in its fairly youthful stages, it is

closely linked to older areas of research such as bilingualism and language

acquisition. Language death is known by several names, in particular

language obsolescence and language attrition. Scholars wrestle with the use

and definition of these terms as well as those of language loyalty,

maintenance, shift, expansion, contraction, extinction, disappearance, loss

and death. The name “death” has lent itself to a play on words so that we
find scholars experimenting with labels such as “language suicide”

(Denison), “language genocide” (Day), and “obituary of a language”

(Hindley)26. Languages that are “dying” have been also described as

“moribund” and those that are no longer “living” are “dead.”

As can be judged by the number of names describing this area of

research, this field is still “beset by definitional indeterminacies and

terminological uncertainties” (Dorian, Investigating Obsolescence 2).

Crystal notes that some scholars use the term “language death” to refer only

to languages such as Latin and Celtic which are no longer spoken by anyone

anywhere in the world (The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Language 360, and

Clyne 18). For other languages, such as immigrant languages, that are lost

to successive generations in one place but survive in other places, the term

“language loss” may be used, although it is often used interchangeably with

“language death” (Hock 530). In this study, the latter is used since other

scholars have used it effectively in dealing with lost immigrant languages,

26
Reg Hindley, The Death of the Irish Language: a Qualified Obituary (London:
Routledge, 1990).
and since informants themselves consider the Portuguese language to be dead

where they are concerned. As the study of language death gains ground in

recognition of its intrinsic and extrinsic value and importance, there has been

a corresponding growth in the number of debates, conferences and

publications which have attempted to arrive at conclusive definitions of the

terms that are most frequently used, and that should be used in this domain

of linguistics.

Significant strides have been made over the last three decades since

Fishman’s 1964 seminal article entitled “Language Maintenance and

Language Shift as a Field of Enquiry: A Definition of the Field and

Suggestions for its Further Development” and Heinz Kloss’ article,

“German-American Language Maintenance Efforts” in Fishman’s Language

Loyalty in the United States. In 1981, the publication of Dorian’s Language

Death: the Life Cycle of a Scottish Gaelic Dialect established her as the

leading authority on this phenomenon. The latter work still constitutes the

launching point for many researchers, and the field is continually being

developed and expanded by that author herself and other notable names in

the linguistics arena. Researchers and scholars struggle to theoretically

shape the growing accumulation of world-wide data on diverse cases of

language death. The phenomenon may be dealt with from several

perspectives, such as those of the purely linguistic on levels such as

phonology, morphology, syntax, and lexico-semantics, and from other

perspectives such as the historical, sociological, anthropological, ethnological

and psychological.

The study of language obsolescence may be delineated as the

investigation of the social history and/or description of “precariously placed

speech forms,” usually minority languages (Dorian, Investigating

Obsolescence x). The speakers of these minority languages gradually shift

from one speech form to the next, with the ultimate result of the

disappearance or loss of the group’s language to upcoming generations of the

ethnic group. Generally speaking, languages in a bilingual or multilingual

contact situation, whether immigrant or native, are those most often

considered as candidates for the study of language obsolescence.

Language death, according to Cook, “is not an isolated phenomenon;

it is one of the most prominent consequences of acculturation involving

languages of unequal status coming into contact” (235). Language death,

usually brought about by language contact, is almost always preceded by the

gradual processes of linguistic change and language shift. Structural

linguistic change takes place in all natural languages, whether or not they are

in their original environments. Modification is expected and inevitable, and

affects languages on all linguistic levels. Diachronic or long-term alteration

actually begins as the struggle of synchronic, co-existent variants, some of

which ultimately triumph over their contenders. Although all change starts

synchronically, there are varying degrees of change, determined by a variety

of extra-linguistic factors. Some change may simply result in the internal re-

shaping of a language, as opposed to the more dramatic type of language

change resulting in the ultimate erosion of a group’s language. Change

occurs because of linguistic as well as extra-linguistic factors. The intra- and

extra-linguistic factors that bring about change in the language of a

community are to some extent intertwined, but differ in both effect and

cause, and are therefore separately discussed.

Labov’s Uniformitarian Principle dictates that the “general processes

and principles which can be noticed in observable history are applicable in

all stages of language history” (Hock 630). This principle concerns largely
linguistic factors which are subject to far less variation than external factors.

Unlike Labov who proposes that the present explains the linguistic past and

that the present may help to predict the future, Tamis proposes that the

present differs from the past and may not be used to explain the latter

because of fundamental differences (481). While Labov focuses mainly on

intra-linguistic factors, Tamis deals with extra-linguistic factors, which differ

from group to group. Present extra-linguistic factors which differ

fundamentally from those of the past cannot be applied to the past without

reservation.

Extra-linguistic factors include “socio-economic, psychological as

well as historical reasons and they often take place because of language

contact” between two or more groups of speakers of different languages

(Tamis 485; cf. Nelde 74). When a language is in its home environment,

internal linguistic changes may be relatively regular and predictable,

depending on the socio-political and geographic stability of its native

speakers. Socio-political change and geographic movement constitute the

main non-linguistic determinants essential to language change and they are

not as stable or regular as intra-linguistic causes of change.

 When a language is uprooted from its natural environment and placed

in an alien, sometimes hostile environment, change is effected more suddenly

and more swiftly. If the speakers of the newly transplanted language are in

the minority or find themselves in a socio-economically subordinate position,

language maintenance may not be possible. Such a language often faces

severe competition from the overwhelmingly dominant linguistic variants of

the host language. The lexical level, for example, is the most malleable of

all linguistic levels. As the speakers of a minority language need to adapt to

their new environment, so too the need grows to acquire new and socio-

culturally relevant lexicon. Some of these lexical items embody concepts

and articles unique to the learner’s new surroundings which were previously

unknown to the immigrant speakers. Where the lexical elements of the

minority language have counterparts or parallels in the competitor language,

these often face ultimate disappearance and may be completely replaced by

equivalents in the host language. On the other hand, other specific lexical

items often survive. These are the type that have no equivalent in the host

language, and that describe cultural features unique to the minority group.

In Trinidadian Creole English, for example, included among words of

non-English origin that persist from generation to generation are those that

are felt to have no equivalent in English. Examples of these are “tabanca”

(roughly “unrequited love”; < probably Cariban, cf. Macushi tabangke

‘wonder’; Allsopp 544), “maco” (roughly “a busybody” as a noun, or “to

stick one’s nose into another’s business”; < macquereau French; Allsopp

363), “parang” (a specific type of Spanish-language Christmas songs; <

parranda Spanish ‘a spree, a binge’; Allsopp 429), and many food items such

as “pastelle” (a meat-filled corn pastry; < pastel Spanish; Allsopp 433) and

“pelau” (a dish of rice, pigeon peas and meat, usually chicken or beef; <

pilao Indic via Urdu; Allsopp 435). The vast majority of words from Carib,

Arawak, Spanish, French Creole, Bhojpuri, Chinese, Yoruba and many other

languages in Trinidad have been lost to speakers of these ethnolects and the

nation as a whole. These lost lexical items are usually those that have close

or exact equivalents in English or that have simply been forgotten, rejected

or considered useless. When greater numbers of linguistic elements on all

levels are eroded, the language in its new environment may lose its struggle

to survive and become moribund.

Language Maintenance, Shift and Death

The process of language death may normally be divided into three

overlapping phases: language maintenance, language shift and language

death. The first phase of the life of a minority language is marked by its

regular use within a given community, supported by formal and informal

networks and structures that enable and promote intra-group communication.

This phase is often referred to as “language maintenance.” The term “shift”

itself implies that there is a movement from one stage to the next. The

“shift” in favour of another language system over the community’s mother

tongue begins when the former makes inroads into the community and

becomes the target language for the youth of the community, upon whom

language vitality depends. Even when the language continues to be used for

intra-group communication, a partial shift towards the use of the dominant

language outside of the group may take place in certain spheres. The result

is varying degrees of bilingualism, which often precedes the community’s

full shift to the second language. Static bilingualism, as defined by Tamis,

exists when “a minority language is maintained in a high-contact situation

with the host language for more than four generations” (484). This differs
from a dynamic bilingual environment in which “a minority language is a

new phenomenon.” If stable bilingualism is not achieved on a long-term

basis, this is generally a sign that the original structures or communication

bridges have begun to disintegrate, and “language death” is often inevitable.

Before loss occurs, language shift must take place. Fase, Jaspaert

and Kroon define language shift as a change in language use among a

minority group, and language loss or death as a change in the language

proficiency of an individual. They note that “while the question of shift is

mainly related to the group, the question of loss is basically one that relates

to the individual. It is the individual losing the ability to use the language”

(4). Language loss begins with the individual, but language shift is an intra-

group phenomenon in which the minority group may or may not advocate

the use of the language within the ranks of the community. Fase et al note

that “language death only occurs when intraethnic communication

disappears, and … this can normally only happen when the group itself

dissolves owing to demographic causes” (6). When individuals growing up

in the community lack the necessary daily exposure to the language in a

number of contexts, the result is a loss in personal competence and

performance.

Nelde also underscores the importance of the individual’s rôle in

language shift, especially in instances of individual migration as opposed to

group migration. Migration, often followed by socialisation, and possibly by

assimilation, may lead to language shift, and these three factors together

create a conflict situation. According to Nelde, whose main interest is what

he calls “contact linguistics” (75), “language contact is connected to

language conflict” (73). This conflict is the result of sociolinguistic,

psycholinguistic, linguistic and metalinguistic differences, or “the

incompatibility of language attitudes, the differences between languages

themselves and the diverging concepts which each language embodies”

(Nelde 73). That researcher goes on to note that “when at least two

languages or variants meet – that is, come into contact for a period of time

often spanning several generations – the result in many cases is language

shift” (81). The individual, through self-assertion, either attempts to

withstand external influences, “thereby creating a conflict situation,” or

chooses, through self-adaptation, to modify his sociolinguistic behaviour,

“thereby relinquishing something of his own identity.” The latter choice

results in a cultural and a linguistic shift, and may also bring about conflict,

in this case at a community or in-group level. Here the study of extra-

linguistic factors becomes crucial, and “questions regarding the conditions

under which and the rate at which the immigrant is assimilated, which group

he identifies with and the cultural community in which he prefers to live are

essential” (Nelde 81–82).

The issue of conflict also appears in Jaspaert and Kroon’s definition

of language loss. They perceive language loss “as a form of language

change that causes potential communication problems between individuals

and the community of which they consider themselves a member” (80).

When one or more members consent to the use of another language in

several domains, thereby forsaking some use of their language, this may give

rise to internal friction, as noted above. In her discussion of language loss

among Portuguese migrants in the Netherlands and France, Schoenmakers-

Klein Gunnewiek offers a definition of language loss that also includes the

notion of conflict, or confrontation:

According to our definition of language loss, a language loser has

intensive contact with a L2 community. This results in a
confrontation with other linguistic elements and other boundaries of
 concepts. But following the conceptual hypothesis, the confrontation
with other boundaries of concepts is the major cause of language loss.
(104)

The beginnings of language attrition therefore lie in the clash or contact

between languages which leads to both intra-group and extra-group conflict.

If a group is not in agreement about the preservation of its language,

uncommitted members or “language losers” begin language shift.

One of the key extra-linguistic factors in language shift is

assimilation which usually leads to the modification of language behaviour.

Most often, assimilation involves intermarriage or exogamous unions, where

members of a group marry outside of their ethnic community and/or social

class. When a member of a specific linguistic community marries another

who speaks the language of the wider community and does not speak the

language of the minority group, the result is often adaptation within the

family unit. As Nelde puts it,

regardless of sex, the marriage partner who speaks a foreign tongue

will also adapt both linguistically and culturally for status reasons.
This, in turn, will strongly influence the future language in the
family, so that a snow-ball effect arises in the second generation. (83)

A high incidence of out-marriage in an immigrant group shows the extent to

which the group is leaning towards full assimilation. Endogamy, on the

other hand, is a form of social isolation. Social and geographic isolation are

factors in favour of language maintenance, while regular exposure to and

dependence on the wider society will aid in language attrition. These

factors, as they pertain specifically to the Portuguese in Trinidad, will be

dealt with more fully in chapter 4, and finally in chapter 9.

Several conditions must be in place before the process of language

attrition begins to take place. These factors are both internal and external.

Internal factors are psychological, such as language attitudes. External

factors are largely social, and include group demographics. The numerical

proportions of the groups as well as their socio-political position(s) vis-à-vis

one another are important.

In a language loss situation, the society is usually heterogeneous, and

there must be at least two different groups, one of which is the socially

dominant larger group and the other of which is smaller and socially

subordinate. The smaller, subordinate group often comprises either a group

native to the area but politically displaced by another group (such as the

Arawaks of Trinidad or the Aborigines of Australia), or an immigrant group

(such as the Germans of Trinidad or the Turks of the Netherlands) who are

native speakers of a language different from that of the dominant host group.

In some cases, if the host language is being only partially learned by the

immigrant generation, a kind of pidginisation of the host language may

occur. This may be a sort of immigrant interlanguage where the phonology

and syntax of the L1 are combined with the lexicon of the L2, and may

precede genuine or partial bilingualism.

When an immigrant group as a whole, primarily through successive

non-immigrant generations, eventually switches to the dominant language,

their language usually disappears completely. Except perhaps for some

lexical items, minority languages often do not influence the mainstream

languages, although groups may develop ethnolects with lexical traces of the

immigrant language remaining in their use of the host language. An example

of this is Indo-Trinidadian speech which preserves several Bhojpuri lexical

items in current, everyday use.

The reverse situation (a small dominant group and large subordinate

group) could give rise to the birth and development of a pidgin or creole, an

entirely new language, generally with the lexicon coming from the language
of the dominant group, and the structure or syntax from the larger group(s),

as is the case for most Caribbean Creoles. Whereas the larger oppressed

group may experience the loss of its native language(s), it also acquires a

new language in whose development it has a creative hand, whether

consciously or unconsciously. In this context, other social factors are

important for the development of a creole language, and these include

linguistic diversity in the subordinate group, as well as the geographical

displacement of these subordinate multilingual speakers. Mintz shows that

the process of creolisation of Western European languages in the Caribbean

occurred under specific demographic circumstances (493–94).

As Nelde has noted, “numerous language shifts have occurred owing

to increasing heterogeneity” (80). Such a situation creates the need for a

lingua franca, which may either be adopted or replaced by another lingua

franca. In the case of Trinidad, it is important to emphasise the

heterogeneous nature of this island’s demography. With a relatively small,

mobile population, and far reaching educational policies, it was difficult for a

multilingual community like this to remain divided into several small

linguistic entities. Already cosmopolitan before the end of slavery,

Trinidadian society diversified even further under waves of immigrants

arriving after emancipation, and the lingua franca of the nineteenth century

was French Creole.27

So far, typical language loss studies of minority languages reveal that

the smaller subordinate group finds the life of its language threatened by the

pressure on the group because of the socio-economic survival needs of the

minority group itself. There is increasing pressure to conform linguistically

to the wider society by the adoption and mastery of the dominant language,

and “ethnic groups within a modern nation-state, given opportunity and

incentive, typically shift to the language of the dominant group” (Bratt

Paulston 9). One initial compromise is bilingualism among members of the

minority group in which a diglossia-like situation develops. That is, the

minority language remains the language of the home and community, while

the majority language is the formal language of communication with those

outside the community – in the work place, school and wider society in

general. Bilingualism, however, does not always remain stable, and may

give way to language shift and loss in successive generations (cf. Zentella).

27
See chapter 3.
 Language attitudes, in particular lack of language loyalty, readily

contribute to language attrition or erosion. This is largely psychological and

internal to the speakers of the language. Where there is a lack of conscious

group or ethnic identity and little language loyalty among early immigrants,

language maintenance efforts and success are low at the outset. The group is

usually unable to check the inevitable loss of their language, regardless of

the efforts of a few. Unless there is positive reinforcement at home, such as

the inculcation of ethnic pride and language loyalty, and at school, the

younger generations usually begin to perceive the dominant language as the

language of social acceptability, popularity, superiority and mobility.

Wavering feelings of language loyalty among successive generations

eventually cause the partial existence of the language in limited contexts.

Limited or partial usage of a language results in limited or partial structures

being passed on to the next generation. A language in such a state is really

considered by most scholars to be “dying” or “dead.” The total demise of

the language among members of the immigrant group is usually the end

result. Where the degree of loyalty to the immigrant language is high,

language preservation may be the group’s experience, resulting in stable and

simultaneous co-existence with the socially dominant language.

Even where a group valiantly attempts to keep its language banner

flying, younger generations may be heavily influenced by the wider society

in a number of ways. These include the media, the formal education system

where the language of instruction is the language of the majority, and

ongoing social contact with their peers who belong to the majority group.

Indeed, Nelde feels that language maintenance is only possible if there exists

“a completely monolingual infrastructure … in the territorial area of (1)

Administration, (2) Education, and (3) Business and Industry” (82). To a

large extent, this is true, yet some groups manage to preserve their language,

at least in the home, even in the absence of such a monolingual

infrastructure. If an immigrant group manages to produce bilingual

grandchildren, this serves as an indicator that language maintenance efforts

are succeeding and may do so for some time.

In any given society whose language is threatened, speakers with

various degrees of competence and performance may arise. According to

Dorian’s Language Death terminology, there are fluent speakers, whose

mother tongue is the ethnic language of the community and who may be
either monolingual in their first language, or may be either partly or fully

bilingual. There are three other categories of speakers: (1) semi-speakers,

(2) passive bilinguals, and (3) near-passive bilinguals. Semi-speakers may

be defined as speakers of the ethnic language (usually the mother tongue of

at least one parent) to varying degrees less than full fluency. They are

exposed to both the minority ethnic language of the home and to the

language of the wider community. If the fluent native speakers are

becoming bilingual, they often find that their language is used in increasingly

fewer spheres, and therefore the range of varieties at their disposal and at the

disposal of the following generations is severely narrowed. The ethnic

language may be limited to the home, with little room for situational

variation and social differentiation. As a result, semi-speakers are unable to

master a number of levels of their parents’ or grandparents’ mother tongue.

They are usually halting and insecure in their speech production, especially

face to face with fluent speakers of the language. Passive and near-passive

bilinguals also possess almost full comprehension of the spoken ethnic

language in restricted contexts, but their performance is even more limited

than that of the semi-speakers.

 Unlike near-passive and passive bilinguals, semi-speakers can

produce more or less “correct” sentences, although the former “often know

many words or phrases, but cannot build sentences with them or alter them

productively” (Dorian, Language Death 107). Such fossilised words or

phrases include the lyrics of songs, regularly repeated phrases such as

standard salutations, kinship terms, expressions of endearment, nicknames,

curses and exclamations, and also utterances which are difficult to translate

because there is no exact equivalent in the dominant language. When they

leave home, some semi-speakers and passive bilinguals ultimately adopt the

linguistic characteristics of the host language monolinguals. They then

appear to be completely monolingual in the dominant language which has

become their primary language. As they grow older and as their parents and

elderly kinsmen die, they lose touch with the language through loss of

practice and regular exposure to the ethnic language. An abundance of semi-

speakers and a deficit of native speakers usually means that the language has

become obsolescent.

Instances of Language Maintenance and Loss

 The kind of change that Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad faced as an

immigrant, minority, transplanted language, away from its natural home,

differs from that kind of change and loss experienced by indigenous,

minority languages, such as the Amerindian languages of the Caribbean. In

order to unearth general principles of language death, the following

discussion compares and contrasts the case of Portuguese in Trinidad with

case studies of other minority immigrant languages in a specifically English-

official context. The comparisons will draw on points of similarity and help

to account for the fate of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad and Tobago.

Two immigrant languages in Australia, a large, English-official but

multilingual country, are the focus of the research of two papers. Ronald

Taft and Desmond Cahill focus on the maintenance of Lebanese Arabic.

A.M. Tamis examines Greek, which is the second strongest ethnic language

spoken in Australia, after Italian. Smolicz agrees that of all of Australia’s

immigrant groups, speakers of Greek have experienced the smallest shift

(“Minority Languages as Core Values of Ethnic Cultures” 27). Although

classified as a multilingual country (Grimes 78), twentieth century Trinidad

and Tobago is no longer actively multilingual, while Australia’s

multilingualism continues to be dynamic with an ongoing flow of migrants.

Australia has officially advocated multiculturalism since 1973, and to some

extent multilingualism. The comparison is useful in that what is happening

in Australia reflects to some extent what once prevailed in multilingual

Trinidad, although on a different scale, and can provide a glimpse of both

efforts at language maintenance and language death in progress.

Taft and Cahill’s study deals with the self-assessment of Lebanese-

born parents and their children, who are either Lebanese-born or Australian-

born, while Tamis’ study deals with Greek in Australia. While both studies

show that both languages have been maintained over time, both reveal that

these languages are in the process of submitting to a fate similar to that of

Portuguese in Trinidad, although at a much slower rate. Both studies explore

several circumstances, largely internal to the ethnic group, that contrast

sharply with those concerning Portuguese in Trinidad. How the lives of

Lebanese Arabic and Greek in Australia fared differently from that of

Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad lies in the differing attitudes of their

respective users, which to a large extent shape and dictate the future of

language use in their communities. What follows is a summary of Taft and

Cahill’s study, showing the potential effects of positive language attitudes on

mother-tongue preservation, as well as a look at Tamis’ analysis which is

both similar to and different from the Trinidad Portuguese scenario in several

ways.

Taft and Cahill begin by stating the seemingly obvious, that “normal”

integration and assimilation of an immigrant group take place primarily on

the socio-cultural and linguistic levels. Part of the linguistic assimilation of a

group includes some gradually acquired individual and corporate competence

(rules for encoding and decoding speech messages), and performance (actual

use of these rules) in the host language. This second language (L2)

acquisition in turn leads to some loss or attrition of the immigrant language.

Given the widespread dominance of the host language, the immigrant

language is usually forced to operate in restricted environments.

Tamis concurs with Taft and Cahill’s assessment of language shift,

and states that language erosion occurs because of the impositions placed on

the range of functions distributed or allowable to the immigrant language.

These functional constraints placed on the immigrants’ first language (L1)

create a type of unstable and changing diglossia, due to necessitated and

increasing use of the L2, usually for socio-economic survival. Huffines

proposes that:

The use of two or more languages within one community is

dependent on each language’s serving a function which the other does
not. If two languages could be used interchangeably on all occasions
by all speakers, one would be superfluous and ultimately dropped
from the repertoire of languages serving the community. (44)

A lexically-reduced performance in the L1 develops among the parents, and

their children are exposed to this variety of the L1, which incurs “problems

of imperfect learning, and hence further linguistic reduction, eventual

pidginisation and death” (Tamis 483).

Taft and Cahill accept that the length of time spent in the host

country also contributes to and promotes the attrition of the L1, Lebanese

Arabic in this case, because of an increasing lack of opportunities to use the

first or home language. The longer the stay in the host culture, Australia in

this instance, the greater the use of the L2 among the children. The children

usually attend L2 schools and therefore attain some degree of bilingualism.

The same is true of Madeirans in Trinidad. Portuguese creole children,

especially boys, were inevitably immersed in English in the wider

environment through schooling and contacts in other spheres, and use of

Portuguese was generally restricted to the home. Although there were other

limited opportunities to use Portuguese, in some cases in the places of work,

worship and socialising (as will be seen in chapter 5), use of the language

was not formally reinforced or encouraged outside the home.

Psychological factors in favour of L1 erosion include increasing

tolerance towards the L2, as well as the recognition of the social importance

of the latter. Linguistic tolerance leads to frequent lexico-semantic

transference (including word-borrowing and code-mixing), especially in

areas previously unknown to the immigrants. Recognition of the weight of

the official language is often preceded or accompanied by the felt pressure to

conform to the use of L2 for the sake of social acceptance and/or economic

advancement. The absence of standardisation and literacy in the mother

tongue is a factor in language attrition. In an effort to combat L1 illiteracy,

and to treat the two languages as equal, bilingual education programmes are

often promoted. Although designed to develop and sustain the use of the

two languages, these programmes may inadvertently cause a simultaneous

shift to the L2, despite regular improvement in the L1 in the areas of literacy

and oral fluency. This is because of a greater number of opportunities to use

the L2, and increased literacy practice in general.

In the face of limits imposed on Lebanese Arabic in Australia,

maintenance of that language is perceived to be a type of resistance to total

domination by the host language, especially among first and second

generation members who attend English-only schools. Despite the

destabilisation and possible erosion of the L1 through necessary and regular

interaction with English speakers, Taft and Cahill feel that maintenance is

possible over time. However, it has become increasingly difficult because of

some children’s dwindling interest in L1 and their increasing literacy in

English and no parallel L1 literacy.

Despite the odds, several Lebanese immigrants in Australia continue

to maintain the use of Arabic. According to Taft and Cahill, this has been

made possible up to the time of investigation because of several factors,

beginning with the obvious fact that Lebanese Arabic is the mother tongue of

the Lebanese Arabic immigrants. This necessary base is the foundational

support for all other offshoot reasons for L1 maintenance. The other reasons

that are put forward are principally extra-linguistic, and include:

(1) fairly open attitude of the dominant host society, that is, a lack
 of openly negative pressure against the persistence of the

immigrant language,

(2) intra-group pressure or encouragement for the preservation of

their L1,

(3) demographic features of the group that promote language

survival (such as group size, its social status and intra-group

organisational structures, including the family, religion and

“ethnic” schools),

(4) the need and occasion to use the L1 frequently,

(5) individual (and corporate) language loyalty and ethnic/national

pride, and, of course,

(6) individual linguistic ability.

Taft and Cahill also include competence in the L2 and the ability to choose

the L2 over the L1 where necessary, but this does not necessarily relate to

L1 language maintenance. Competence in the second language usually

initiates language shift.

Taft and Cahill found that basic or advanced education and literacy

among the parents were likely to promote good, all-round L1 and L2

language skills in the children, especially if the mothers were literate in the

L1. Literacy is a key support mechanism for private use of an ethnic

language and there is a definite correlate between literacy and language

survival. Even biliteracy might encourage the mother tongue to remain in

some use.

Lebanese parents in Australia are increasingly exposed to English in

their daily lives, and are therefore able to understand and communicate with

their children in English. The latter frequently choose to use the L2 as a

result of constant exposure at school and from the mass media. Taft and

Cahill therefore state that after ten years in Australia, the use of Arabic as L1

in the homes is more a choice than a necessity. This choice in favour of

Lebanese Arabic as the L1 is usually reinforced by parental pressure and

example in the home and by some formal L1 instruction. The fact that

Lebanese immigrants continue to use Arabic at home points to strong

psychological factors in favour of L1 maintenance. Time will tell whether

the descendants of these immigrants will continue to make language

preservation efforts.

It is interesting to note the differences between the Lebanese

communities in Australia and in Trinidad. The Lebanese (usually called

Syrians) were the last of the immigrant groups to come to British Trinidad

and the majority came in the early twentieth century to the 1940s (cf. Laquis,

and also Besson, “The Syrians and Lebanese of Trinidad”). The modern

community is often perceived as separatist by the rest of the society. The

Arab community appears to see its cultural strength in the family unit and

endogamous practices, family partnerships in the business arena, and cultural

activities co-ordinated by the Syrian-Lebanese Women’s Association.

Despite its close-knit nature, it has not maintained the use of Arabic in the

home, and children are schooled in English at local schools.

In his discussion of Greek in Australia, Tamis insists that changes are

inevitable in a ‘low’ versus ‘high’-contact situation, despite the relative

success of Greek in Australia. He shows that such a situation will finally

end in language death, a theory which well suits the situation of Portuguese

in Trinidad. Here Tamis uses ‘low’ to refer to the lower social status of the

immigrant group which often uses its language at an informal intra-group

level. The term ‘high’ points to the dominant host society, in which the

official language is used in all formal contexts. He suggests that the

difficulty experienced by adult Greek speakers in learning English causes an

initial desire to retain the L1 and also promotes attachment to the ethnic

group and its identity. Like Taft and Cahill, Tamis also discusses the

linguistic and non-linguistic factors involved in language maintenance. That

author notes that the two clear-cut factors which influence the linguistic

behaviour of members of the Greek community are “the proportion of inter-

ethnic marriages within the Greek community and the social and national

value of the Greek language for its users” (486). He correlates language

maintenance with strong family ties and strong feelings of ethnic identity,

which is not, however, necessarily supported by use of the ethnic language in

every group, since some groups consider language secondary to other

cultural norms and values.

The survival of Greek in Australia faces further complications,

because of conditions in the homeland, according to Tamis. In Greece, the

emigrants left behind a fully developed diglossic situation. They formally

learned a superimposed variety of Greek, while speaking a ‘low’ variety in

which they are mostly illiterate (Ferguson 233–35). Because of the restricted

functions of Greek in Australia, immigrant children have relatively little

opportunity to learn and use the ‘high’ variety learned by their parents in

school. The ‘low’ variety, on the other hand, cannot lean on the support of

literacy. In addition, it is in danger of being lost because of the pressure

from Australian English in schools, and because of the “sociopolitically

motivated difficulties of dialect speakers” (Nelde 74). This means that

speakers of the ‘low’ variety are not willing to pass on their dialect to their

children. Ethnic identity is tied up in two varieties of Greek; one which is a

source of pride but is seldom used and therefore faces imminent extinction,

and the other which is more frequently used but less a matter of pride. If

attitudes were different, such as stronger feelings of language loyalty, then

the ‘low’ variety could probably survive for a longer period. It is worth

noting that colloquial Arabic and colloquial Greek occupy similar positions

vis-à-vis the standard classical varieties of the respective languages in their

places of origin, and are not the varieties of literacy.

In sum, in an era of multiculturalism and ethnic pride, speakers of

both Lebanese Arabic and Greek in Australia are valiantly trying to preserve

their languages. Both language groups are in the same country and face a

similar sociolinguistic situation where the dominant language is English.

Both languages ultimately face the same fate, and will probably eventually

lose their footing in their communities of use. Language vitality is strongly

influenced by migration factors, infrastructure or networks of the groups and

language attitudes.

Unlike ‘low’ and ‘high’ Greek or Arabic, the differences between

Madeiran and continental Portuguese are not as vast, and exist mainly at the

phonological and lexical levels. However, some Madeiran immigrants in

Trinidad considered their variety to be inferior to the standard Lisbon dialect

of Portuguese. Some of these were also illiterate in their language. It would

appear that there was a high degree of illiteracy among the earliest

immigrants. These immigrants could not therefore make any effort to

instruct their descendants in their ethnic tongue, and lack of time was one of

the reasons frequently put forward. In the early twentieth century, when the

Portuguese Association was run by literate immigrants, attempts were made

to promote use of the language outside the home, through plays and concerts.

Concrete efforts to teach Portuguese formally have only come about in this

decade, but have not come through the initiative of the Portuguese

community, whose most recent immigrants were all born before the 1940s.
Any attempts now to formally learn Portuguese in Trinidad and Tobago can

only take place under Brazilian tutors, much to the general disapproval of the

Madeiran-born community members and others in the community who

appear to be partial to European Portuguese in general. While literacy will

not prevent language erosion, it is certainly a factor in favour of language

maintenance on which immigrants can lean if they so choose.

In the latter half of the nineteenth century, the intake of Portuguese

immigrants to British Trinidad reached its peak, yet the community always

remained comparatively small. During this period, Trinidad was truly

multilingual and three other languages besides English, namely Spanish,

French Creole and Bhojpuri, occupied prominent positions because of

historical, social and demographic reasons respectively.28 To complicate

matters further, English Creole was growing in use and many socially

subordinate Portuguese probably came into contact with this variety through

contact with the lower classes, rather than with the Standard English

promoted and spoken by the groups of prestige and power.

28
See chapter 3 for further discussion on the social history of the Portuguese language
and chapter 4 on the demography of the Portuguese speech community.
 Like other immigrants of the same era, the Portuguese had limited

opportunities for education and social advancement, especially among those

who occupied the lowest strata, and they also possessed a lack of economic

and political (and perhaps psychological) power to encourage the survival

and development of their language away from their homeland. The wider

society came to associate the Portuguese language with the low-status shop-

keepers’ class, and eventually some of the Portuguese descendants

themselves adopted that viewpoint. This social stigma against the

Portuguese language, accompanied by the low levels of literacy among many

immigrants, like the Greek situation in Australia, assisted in preventing the

language from attaining any longevity at the community level.

Nowadays, there is a general national resurgence of ethnic group

loyalty and feelings of ethnic identity, once kept alive by immigrants

themselves to some extent but generally submerged among the members of

successive generations in the struggle to survive. Not only is ethnic pride

currently on the increase, but the possibilities for social mobility and relative

economic wealth are greater now than they were in the past. If large

numbers of financially independent speakers were to immigrate en masse in

such a climate as this, one might well surmise that the odds of survival for

that group’s language might be greater. Such a possibility is, however,

remote, largely because of the dominance of the national and official

language in every sphere.

Language attitudes among the Madeiran Portuguese community in

Trinidad, like the Greek community in Australia, differ greatly from the

Lebanese Arabic-speaking community discussed above. All three groups

started off at a numerical and social disadvantage, and were expected to

embrace English as quickly as possible. However, of the three, only one

seems likely to continue using its language in the future, and the resolve and

determination exhibited by the Lebanese is the basis for the possible

difference in outcome.

With reference to other immigrant languages in Trinidad, all of them

eventually submitted to language death or obsolescence, although they are

alive and well in their countries of origin and among immigrant groups

elsewhere. A flood of studies, both published and unpublished by graduates

and undergraduates, demonstrate the widespread casualty rate of immigrant

languages in this country. Specialist studies done on these languages include

Thomas’ study on French Creole, (K.M.) Laurence’s and Moodie’s studies

on Spanish, Mohan’s, Rambissoon Sperl’s and Durbin’s studies on Bhojpuri,

and Warner-Lewis’ study on Yoruba. Published and unpublished

ethnographic research on other groups such as de Verteuil’s study on the

Germans, Millette’s study on the Chinese (among several others), and

Laquis’ study on the Syrian-Lebanese community, make mention of language

loss among those groups under study. Comprehensive studies by Carrington,

Winer, Solomon, Bryan, Sealey and Aquing, and Baksh-Soodeen shed light

on the multilinguistic history of Trinidad, and show conclusively that all

immigrant languages were forced to give way to English and English Creole.

The language policy, as seen through education policies, ensured that no

other languages could ever occupy official positions or positions of social

dominance.29

The survival of a language does not depend solely on the size of the

group, although large numbers of immigrants help. Bhojpuri, an Indian

immigrant language, was brought by its numerous speakers during the same

era as Madeiran Portuguese. Descendants of Indians now account for 41%

29
See chapter 3.
of the population of Trinidad and Tobago and comprise the majority ethnic

group of the country. Although the language appears to be surviving among

some elderly persons of Indian descent, the language has long been

diagnosed as obsolescent by Mohan, Rambissoon Sperl, Durbin and many

others. The survival of a language does not depend solely on the size of the

group, although large numbers of immigrants help. As we shall see,

psycholinguistic factors appear to prevail above all others, and those, in

combination with sociolinguistic considerations, decide the fate of an

immigrant language.

The Theory of Ethnic Core Values

The survival of any immigrant group as a separate entity depends on

the extent to which it is aware of itself, and to which it is able to articulate

and define the cultural values it most prizes. A group’s ability to protect and

defend itself against domination from other groups begins with, and is based

on, its self-identity defined in terms of its core values. Core values,

according to Smolicz, are

those values that are regarded as forming the most fundamental

components of a group’s culture. They generally represent the
heartland of the ideological system and act as identifying values
 which are symbolic of the group and its membership. (“Minority
Languages and the Core Values of Culture” 26)

In Smolicz’s words, “a group’s loss of its core values results in its

disintegration as a community that can perpetuate itself as an authentic and

creative entity across generations” (“Minority Languages as Core Values of

Ethnic Cultures” 279). A group must determine specifically what is essential

to its survival as a distinct ethnic unit. Most cultures value their languages

as vital to their existence. If, however, a minority ethnic group does not

reckon its language one of its key non-negotiable values, then the language

of that group will face eventual death. Outward efforts at language

maintenance may indicate the group’s internal values, but a group’s

persistence over the long-term and across generations will show the strength

of their value system as it specifically pertains to their language.

Smolicz’s theory of core values maintains that not all ethnic core

values are equally important to group survival, or are held as equally

important. Those values that are held to be most symbolic of the group and

its members are those that are likely to survive, and most likely to keep the

group distinct from neighbouring groups. Even in the face of self-definition,

a group can face pressure from “colonial power, post-colonial cultural or

economic dominance, or internal colonialist policies” (Smolicz, “Minority

Languages as Core Values of Ethnic Cultures” 279), and also from

modernisation and assimilation policies. In the nineteenth century, Trinidad,

an ethnically plural society, appeared to be linguistically tolerant towards

bilingualism for some time, at least socially, if not politically and

educationally. Despite this appearance of tolerance, immigrants were

expected to learn the English language, and fit in as fully functional

members of society. Progressiveness seemed to imply rejection of all but

English in a society where the dominant group was becoming more and more

linguistically monistic.

Although some cultural values of the Portuguese in Trinidad

overlapped with wider societal values, their language and other aspects of

their culture kept them separate from other previously established Euro-

Trinidadian groups in the early era. They began to be accepted by the latter

only after they stripped themselves of all distinguishing ethnic symbols and

values. Once the creoles discarded most of the reminders of their immigrant

past and adopted social skills to match those of the élite, many were
eventually incorporated into the diminishing “white” minority élite. Full

acceptance meant that the Portuguese language, which not only symbolised

the shop-keeping class, but which maintained a communication barrier, had

to be replaced by English, the language of prestige and of wider

communication. Social blending called for the eradication of anything that

maintained separation and distance from the élite and other groups. If little

commitment is attached to the language in the first place, then language shift

will entail little or no struggle.

The core values of the Portuguese of the earliest times included their

language, food, and possibly family structure and patriotism. Other core

values suggested by Smolicz include dances, music, arts and crafts, health

care, political organisation, and educational system. None of these, however,

was found to be among those that were crucial to the Portuguese and their

self-image. The constitution of the Portuguese Association, an organisation

that was founded almost six decades after the arrival of the first Madeirans,

attempted to clearly define its goals, of which cultural survival was not one.

Its agenda and strategies were quite unlike those of the Alliance Française,

for example, which actively promotes the diffusion of the French language
world-wide. A glance at the Memorandum and Articles of Association

shows that the Association was not necessarily distinguishable from other

friendly societies, except that its membership was made up strictly of

Portuguese men. Portuguese language and culture were taken for granted,

since the goals of both the Association and individuals included social

fraternisation and the development of internal economic links. The early

goals of the Association did not include cultural development. Some time

after the formation of this social club, the focus came to include the

propagation of Portuguese culture, but specific cultural goals were not

clearly defined and the Association found it difficult to evenly maintain a

strong cultural focus.

Many descendants did not go out of their way to learn their parents’

and grandparents’ tongue, as proficiency in foreign languages (including

French, Spanish and Portuguese), was often seen as an expendable gift or

talent. Some may have made the effort if the structures were in place, but

there were none at any level – primary, secondary or tertiary, and fluency in

Portuguese was not an economically advantageous asset. English, on the

other hand, occupied all public domains and was important for social and
ultimately financial success, or vice-versa. It represented social acceptance

and legitimacy, and was a key to opening many doors. The Portuguese had

little choice but to adopt the national standard, although at first many

probably spoke something of an interlanguage combined with elements of

Trinidadian English Creole. When the opportunities for education arose,

many later rejected the Creole, since use of that language variety was

discouraged in the schools of prestige while Standard English was the variety

that was actively promoted.

Religion is often a core value in many cultures. The Presbyterian

Portuguese had no uniquely Portuguese religious traditions that kept them

apart from other Presbyterians and that could reinforce other aspects of their

culture. They eventually became immersed in an increasingly non-

Portuguese Protestant community, even while trying to maintain their

distinctiveness as an ethnic group in that milieu. Some members of

successive generations of Portuguese Presbyterians lost their religious

heritage by marrying Portuguese Catholics and by becoming absorbed by

that community. With regard to the Catholic Portuguese, the majority easily

conformed to Catholicism in Trinidad, while preserving only a few of their

traditionally Portuguese Catholic symbols for some time. Although Trinidad

was largely Catholic at the time of the earliest Madeiran Portuguese

migrations, the Roman Catholic Portuguese were unable to preserve

numerous customs peculiar to Madeira, and were content to become part of

mainstream Catholicism in Trinidad.

In the United States, the more numerous Portuguese Presbyterians

from Madeira were able to remain Protestant in that largely Protestant

country. Smolicz refers to the “assimilatory-potential of a Protestant faith”

as part of the process of anglicisation in a Protestant anglophone country

(“Minority Languages as Core Values of Ethnic Cultures” 289). Despite

their numbers, their language and culture also succumbed to extinction, and

they appeared to lose the language even more quickly than their counterparts

here in Trinidad (cf. Wright 4). Although the Presbyterian Madeirans

established Portuguese churches in that country, they had fewer social

structures, such as clubs, in place to combat the erosion of their L1.

Like Tamis and Taft and Cahill, Smolicz also looks at examples of

language survival in Australia, and he does this through the theory of ethnic

core values. He notes that the attitude of English colonies is not an

encouraging one for the survival of other languages, especially if the degree

of commitment toward ethnic languages is low among minority groups

(“Minority Languages and the Core Values of Culture” 26–27). Unless a

group puts mechanisms in place to promote and strengthen its sense of

identity and self-esteem, little success will result in the face of pressure

against its language and culture (30).

Smolicz maintains that it is possible for a group to retain its ethnic

identity even if its language has been lost or abandoned, and cites the Irish

and non-Israeli Jews as examples (“Minority Languages and the Core Values

of Culture” 26). Neither group depends on their ethnic language, Irish

Gaelic and Hebrew (or Yiddish) respectively, for ethnic identity. Their core

values lie elsewhere, and so they are able to function as distinct ethnic units.

For other groups, the eradication of an ethnic language usually indicates that

the group itself has given up its struggle to preserve its ethnic identity.

Efforts to maintain links with the country of origin always enhance survival

efforts, but if it is financially or politically impossible, the group may well

remain with mere vestiges of its cultural forms and values.

Many host societies will allow a small group to quietly, privately and
unobtrusively preserve a few cultural emblems for the sake of nostalgia. In

the case of the Portuguese in Trinidad, examples are the Portuguese

Christmas crèche, and the Portuguese anthem, one of the few songs

remembered by any informant. Smolicz notes that the Welsh, who have all

but lost their language, focus on such emblems as identity markers.

Deprived of language as the core marker of their identity, some Welsh

people “resort enthusiastically to “residual” or “non-authentic” expressions

of ethnicity” (“Minority Languages as Core Values of Ethnic Cultures” 291).

The Portuguese in Trinidad also show much enthusiasm in their discussion

of yesteryear, and of the remaining cultural fragments or relics. It is at

Christmas that any vestige of Portuguese identity temporarily resurfaces and

manifests itself in the preparation of a favourite Christmas dish. Luso-

Trinidadians cling to and almost depend on this dish as a symbol of

ethnicity, and to be Portuguese means to have a long continuity of an almost

ritualistic preparation of this dish, as a tradition spanning all generations.30 It

is actually seen as a value that is characteristic of the group. On the whole,

they are much more secure in their identity as Trinidadians and Tobagonians,

30
See chapter 7 for further discussion.
are fully assimilated, and have relatively little else that obviously resembles

mainstream Portuguese culture in Portugal and in overseas Portuguese

communities world-wide.

In Australia, many children of Polish immigrants shifted to English,

perceiving themselves as different in a negative light, and feeling that the

language barrier was hindering their socio-economic success (Smolicz,

“Minority Languages as Core Values of Ethnic Cultures 284”). In Trinidad,

the Portuguese were newcomers, too few in number and too socially weak.

They had no social and financial power, and came as immigrants beginning

new lives in a new place. Later arrivals became dependent on a financially

established bilingual Portuguese community, and were at the mercy of a

largely anglophone society. They were, like the Poles in Australia, willing to

escape from the past as an impoverished peasantry and to discard reminders

of their immigrant past, even to the detriment of the survival and use of their

language. Conformity became an advantage to socio-economic survival.

Today, the identification of Luso-Trinidadians is largely an in-group

phenomenon, and except for knowledge of Portuguese surnames, outsiders

often have difficulty in determining which Euro-Trinidadians are of

Portuguese descent. In Australia, the majority of the population is of

European origin and Euro-Australians of course belong to all social classes,

but not in the Caribbean. In general, and indeed in Trinidad and Tobago,

many Euro-West Indians occupied privileged places of power because of

historical reasons. To fit in with this small élite, there was even more subtle

pressure on all European minorities to conform. Leaving behind their

differentiating cultural markers was often seen as progress. The Chinese in

Trinidad and Tobago, for example, have also experienced the displacement

of their language(s), but they remain phenotypically and recognisably

Chinese, even with the adoption of non-Chinese names. Among the

Portuguese generally only family links, surnames and a few cultural items

have endured.

Smolicz’s humanistic sociological approach looks at the domains of

language use, including the school and the home, the assimilation of

children, the rôle of grandparents, and attitudes above all (“Minority

Languages as Core Values of Ethnic Cultures” 280). He outlines four types

of attitudes that are possible with regard to language: (1) positive, (2)

negative, (3) indifferent, and (4) nostalgic (281). While the fourth may be
positive, it has no maintenance power, and those who are nostalgic are often

content to live in the past; they are unable to translate attitudes into

tendencies. Attitudes are defined as existing but passive personal linguistic

or cultural systems, while tendencies are the activation of these personal

systems (281). A positive attitude, therefore, is the only possible one that

will grant languages and other core values the possibility of survival.

As far as Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad is concerned, the theory of

ethnic core values effectively deals with the reasons for its demise. It is

certain that the erosion of Portuguese values is largely responsible for the

ultimate disuse of that community’s language in Trinidad. This erosion was

assisted by external factors that placed much pressure on already irresolute

core values, which began to lose ground relatively early in the immigrants’

struggle for socio-economic survival. As Kloss rightly points out, “factors

of numbers, economics and institutional support do not necessarily maintain

a language or cause its death” (209–212, qtd. in Huffines 43). Rather, social

and psychological factors play a major rôle in determining the fate of a

language, and in fact, “attitude and self-definition are tied in with reasons for

migration” (Huffines 43). The core values of an immigrant group are often
determined before migration. The following chapter goes on to examine

those socio-historical factors that were most instrumental and persuasive in

the Portuguese community’s ultimate choice of language.

 3

THE SOCIAL HISTORY OF THE PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE

IN TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO

In order to fully assess the reasons for the demise of the Portuguese language

among ethnic Portuguese in Trinidad, an appreciation of the relevant socio-

historical circumstances surrounding the Madeirans’ arrival in Trinidad is

fundamental. Bratt Paulston offers this comment on the relationship between

language and society:

The major point to understand about language as group behavior is

that language is almost never the causal factor, never the factor that
gives rise to, brings about, and causes things to happen, but rather
language mirrors social conditions, mirrors man’s relationship to
man. (6)

The link between language and society is crucial to understanding the life

cycle of this immigrant language and must therefore be established for a full

analysis of language shift and language death to take place.

Going back to the roots of Portuguese immigration will help to trace

the course of the language, taking into account the socio-historical factors

that influenced language use and choice. This investigation calls for an

examination of the external language history of Portuguese in Trinidad, and

will investigate the social and linguistic experiences of the first immigrant

speakers of Portuguese in nineteenth century Trinidad.

As noted in chapter 1, it is important to arrive at an awareness of

their myriad reasons for departure and the social circumstances surrounding

their migration. This will give an indication of their possible views on

language preservation before their arrival, as language attitudes and values

determine to a large extent the survival or death of a language. This chapter

will therefore be devoted to a scrutiny of the push and pull factors that took

the Madeirans out of Madeira and into multilingual Trinidad.

Multilingual Trinidad before the Arrival of Portuguese Speakers

When the Portuguese immigrants from Madeira first came to

Trinidad in 1846, they found themselves in a complex multilingual situation.

Gamble concluded that “the languages spoken in Trinidad are numerous and

diverse” (38). That author recognised that

Many distinct peoples go to make up the population of Trinidad.

There are men from all quarters of the globe, and with but little
exaggeration, it may be said that, in Trinidad, all the languages of the
earth are spoken. (28)
These languages included Cariban and Arawakan languages, and from the

fifteenth century onward, Western European languages such as Spanish,

French, English, Portuguese, German, Danish and Italian; West African

languages including Yoruba, Igbo (Ibo) and other languages from the Niger-

Congo family; Creole languages such as Lesser Antillean French Creole and

Caribbean English Creole; Chinese languages including Hakka; and Indian

languages such as Urdu, Tamil, Hindi, Bhojpuri, Bengali and others, inter

alia, only a few of which have survived up to the present, to varying degrees.

Although Trinidad was seized from the Spanish for the British crown in

1797, the lingua franca for several decades was French Creole. At the wider

social level, English only truly conquered French at the beginning of the

twentieth century, one hundred years after the British take-over.

The heterogeneous sociolinguistic scenario in Trinidad became

particularly complex by the late eighteenth century. Roume de St. Laurent’s

successful second Cedula de Población heralded the introduction of French

and French Creole-speaking immigrants in significant numbers into Spanish

Trinidad, beginning in 1783. Before the arrival of the French, the Spanish

population of Trinidad only reached to 1,400. By 1797, Trinidad’s

population burgeoned to 28,000 people, of which 20,000 were French

Creole-speaking enslaved Africans. As Borde put it, “Trinidad at that time

seemed like a French colony which Spain had recently acquired” (2: 301).

While Spanish remained the language of government, of archival records and

of the law courts, French was the language of commerce and society for

many years (Borde 2: 302).

Fourteen years after the arrival of the French in numbers, the British

took over the island of Trinidad in early 1797, although Spain only formally

ceded Trinidad to Great Britain under the Treaty of Amiens in 1801–02. In

the late nineteenth century, French and French Creole occupied positions of

prominence. French was used for all official purposes until 1823 (Gamble

17), but throughout the mid to late nineteenth century, advertisements and

correspondence in French continued to appear in the largely English-

language newspapers. French Creole, in particular, had become “the

medium of thought” of most of the African-descended population (or

“Creoles,” the label used by Gamble), and was the language “spoken most

widely, the lower orders scarcely using any other, though they can nearly all

of them speak English” (Gamble 39). That language persisted in that rôle
for over a century after the British had seized Trinidad. It was also the lingua

franca of the population, including migrants from West Africa, Western

Europe, India and China.

Trinidad under Spanish rule appeared to have been linguistically

tolerant, but this was not the case under British rule. In the last few years of

Spanish control, for example, the French and French Creole speakers

retained their cultures and languages, and were under no evident pressure to

become Spanish. (It is not possible to speculate on what linguistic policies

would have prevailed, had Trinidad remained Spanish for much longer.)

When the British came into power, they challenged the domination of the

French at all levels, especially at the levels of language and religion.

Language is the chief culture marker for most groups, and the French

language began to be slowly stripped away from the French creoles.

However, the French managed to preserve their religion, their identifiably

French family names, which continued to exert considerable social prestige,

as well as an upper class way of life, in keeping with their status as land-

owners.

In 1823, twenty-six years after the British took control, English was
made the official language of Trinidad (Holm 350; cf. Gamble 17). By the

mid-nineteenth century, however, the majority of the population seemed

scarcely closer to becoming anglophone. One author writing in 1866 even

thought that “the day is far distant ere the many tongues … found in

Trinidad will become as one” (Gamble 45). Yet in 1886, two decades later,

Cothonay’s conclusion was quite different. That author advocated that

English was “la langue de l’avenir pour la Trinidad”31, and went further to

advise all newcomers to Trinidad to learn English, and then Spanish for good

measure: “conclusion pratique: vous tous qui désirez venir à la Trinidad,

apprenez l’anglais … et l’espagnol par-dessus le marché …” (317).

Between the 1830s and 1860s, an era of significant non-British

immigration that was to change the face of Trinidad, the British government

began to develop what Brereton describes as “full-scale policy of

‘Anglicisation’” (“Social Organisation and Class” 37). Several years prior

to this, a group of colonists had lobbied for the introduction of British laws

and institutions into Trinidad (Ramnath Singh 3), including language,

religion and education. The new policy aimed firstly at anglicising Spanish

31
“The language of the future for Trinidad.”
laws. Secondly, in order for the British to efficiently control the varied

population, specific measures had to be put in place. The policy that was

adopted affected the curriculum of the schools and employment in the

business sector, in short, socio-economic mobility.

Targeted largely at the French creole élite, the social and economic

rivals of the less numerous British expatriates and creoles, this anglicising

policy was designed to combat the pervasive influence of the French creoles

in every sphere of life. As Wood notes, “from the beginning of British rule,

the free classes were divided by religion and language” (1). Two men, both

of whom came to Trinidad from St. Kitts, were at the helm of the plan of

anglicisation. Both Sir Henry McLeod, the Governor of the time (1840–

1846), and Charles William Warner, the Attorney-General in Trinidad from

1844 to 1870, were in great measure responsible for promoting English at

the expense of French, particularly Warner. This move helped to deepen the

division between the English and the French, although it was some time

before the fruits of their joint efforts were clearly seen.

Described as “the most influential Attorney-General in the history of

Trinidad” (Wood 37), “the dictator of Trinidad,” “the evil genius of

Anglicization,” and “the evil genius of the country” by some (Wood 181),

Warner was the real driving force behind the Anglicisation policy.

According to Campbell, “the consuming passion of his long career was to

give an English identity to a colony which was a mosaic of non-English

cultural elements…” (“Charles Warner” 55). In 1845, Warner declared in

the Legislative Council that “English rights and privileges should only be

given to those who would take the trouble to learn English and to bring up

their children in an English way” (Wood 181). McLeod also endorsed the

importance of an English system of education in spreading English, and his

successor, Lord Harris continued to promote the policy.

Warner was instrumental in the setting up of the Queen’s Collegiate

School, later Queen’s Royal College, in 1857. This prestigious school for

boys used English as the medium of instruction, and most of the students

were English-speaking. In order to combat the growing dominance of the

British, and their values, religion and language, St. Mary’s College was

established as the French and Catholic rival of Queen’s Royal in 1863. Up

to 1870, the language of instruction in that school, as well as its female

counterpart founded years before in 1836, St. Joseph’s Convent, was French
(Brereton 125). However, many French creoles eventually began to send

their children to Britain for further education, which only served to fulfil the

government’s anglicisation ambitions as the children became truly alienated

from their ancestral culture and language as part of everyday life. It is

interesting to note that it was during this period of Anglicisation that

Trinidad’s first grammar of Creole French, a “living, flourishing language,”

was produced by John Jacob Thomas in 1869 (Brereton 122).

Under the Education Ordinance of 1851, a system of secular

government-controlled Ward schools was established. The urban schools,

based in Port-of-Spain, were called Model and Normal schools. The model

of education to be used was that which was effected in Ireland in the 1830s.

The Irish model developed schools that were open to all, free, and secular,

that is, under the control of a board of education and not religious entities.

As Brereton notes, “this system of education established in Trinidad after

1838 exercised a powerful influence on social development” (A History of

Modern Trinidad 122). There were, however, “acute language problems

since English was the only language of instruction in the Ward schools while

the majority of the pupils were patois-speakers” (123). The Ward schools
were located in the rural areas where the majority of children were French

Creole- and Spanish-speaking. According to P.J. Keenan, 32 the system used

in these schools was “brainsick” and “irrational”, since the children were not

being taught English through the medium of their mother tongues. Rather,

French and Spanish speaking children have been set to learn English
alphabets, English spelling and English reading without the slightest
reference whatever, in the explanation of a word or the translation of
a phrase, to the only language, which they could speak or understand.
(qtd. in Carrington et al 13)

The theory and practice of mother-tongue education was clearly wanting in

those schools, with the result that the children’s acquisition of English was

far from perfect.

According to Ramnath Singh, the Ward school system seems to have

failed after twenty years. One of the factors was the curtailing of the Mico

Charity’s involvement in the education of the Afro-Creoles, due to economic

reasons. Despite the failure of the Ward schools, the Anglicisation policy

was all-embracing in its reality. The primary school system together with

large-scale immigration from other British colonies of the Eastern Caribbean

32
Keenan, P.J. Report on Education in Trinidad, 1869. Cited in Gordon, S.C. Reports
and Repercussions in West Indian Education 1835–1933. London: Ginn and Co., 1968.
in the same era remain the chief factors in the spread of English.

The policy ultimately affected speakers of all other languages,

including Spanish speakers. Though the Spanish language remained mostly

an in-group marker learned by children, particularly in the rural areas (cf.

Moodie/Moodie-Kublalsingh), it was also spoken by some clerks in Port-of-

Spain dry goods stores where continental customers made their purchases

(Gamble 39). Many among that group also spoke French Creole since that

language was learned by adult non-native speakers as the lingua franca of

Trinidad. By 1923, within a century, French Creole was displaced as the

lingua franca, and the majority of the population came to speak English

and/or English Creole (EC).

Brereton notes that the acquisition of English as the first language of

the children of the French creoles in the early 1900s was a “major landmark

in the assimilation of the French Creole élite” (122). Unlike their parents,

these English-educated children were not taught French at home, and French

was used as a means of preventing the children from understanding adult

discussions, as were French Creole, Portuguese and other languages in

Trinidad. Other language groups in Trinidad also went through this process
of assimilation at the same time that their languages went through the

process of attrition, or vice-versa. With regard to the French creoles, it

should be noted that despite linguistic assimilation, the religious and kinship

bonds of the French creoles remained strong, and for years they remained an

identifiable group.

Into this heterogeneous society came the Madeirans. On arrival in

Trinidad, these speakers of Portuguese found themselves automatically

placed nearer the bottom of the social ladder than the top. This phenomenon

is widespread in the anglophone world, as illustrated in Harney’s 1990

article, specifically in Guyana (cf. Menezes), in St. Vincent (cf. Ciski), and

in the U.S.A. (cf. Estep’s thesis on Hawai’ian Portuguese, and works on

other American Portuguese by Pap, and Wolforth).

Many children of the earliest Portuguese immigrants were not

exposed to education in the best schools or in any school, mainly because of

their low social status. When they did attend school, their instruction was

only in English, which was as disadvantageous for Portuguese speakers as it

was for French Creole and other speakers. As a result of the low social

position of speakers of Portuguese, their language came to occupy the same

place in society that they did. Some of the creole Portuguese later came to

view their ancestral language in an unfavourable light, and English was the

language that was most highly esteemed by this and other groups. This was

to have a profound impact on the development of the language, as will be

seen in the discussion of language shift in chapter 9. As Baksh-Soodeen

notes, all other languages in Trinidad, indigenous and immigrant, suffered

the same fate as Portuguese (4–5). Before discussing the impact of a British

education on the fate of Portuguese in particular, this chapter will now go on

to examine the factors of emigration and immigration concerning the

Madeirans in Trinidad.

Brief History of the Immigration of Portuguese

Portuguese Speakers into Trinidad

The first known Portuguese nationals came to Spanish Trinidad in as

early as 1630, over two centuries before the arrival of the Madeirans.

Nothing is known of their origin nor of their purpose and length of stay

(Williams 20). Other Portuguese speakers may have been among Sephardic

migrants. There were Sephardic Portuguese Jews in Tobago in the late

1660s, but “researchers disagree whether Tobago served as a transit point

only or whether Jews were to finally settle in Tobago” (Arbell 14).

Hyamson also notes that a number of Sephardic Jews settled in both Tobago

and Trinidad, but the exact origin and fate of these Sephardim are also

hidden in history (154). Whether the Sephardim who came to Trinidad came

directly from the Iberian peninsula or from other Mediterranean areas such

as Italy, or whether they were descendants of immigrants to South America

or Jamaica is yet unknown. Others of Sephardic descent may have come

later to the island among non-Jewish immigrant groups (cf. Farah). Given

the failure of these Jewish settlements, failure in terms of numbers and socio-

cultural, economic and linguistic contribution to both islands, neither of these

researchers deals with the issue of language. This local situation was quite

unlike that of Curaçao, whose notable Sephardic population, in particular

Jews of Portuguese origin, contributed in large measure to the development

of Papiamentu, although they were not the only source of Portuguese

influence on that territory’s language (cf. Goodman 366).

Apart from these isolated and unconnected groups, neither of which

left known descendants nor any linguistic legacy, it appears that other

travellers and settlers from Portugal came at different points in history.

These included four Portuguese who were in Trinidad in 1811, according to

the 1891 Census of the Population of Trinidad and Tobago. By that time,

Spanish Trinidad had capitulated to the British Crown, and the 1891 Census

notes that the Portuguese were some of the first immigrants to come to

Trinidad after the British capture of the island in 1797. This is not surprising

in view of the centuries-old relationship between Britain and Portugal.

Four centuries before the British took Trinidad, Britain and Portugal

had forged an alliance in 1373. Later, in 1386, the two crowns committed

themselves to a more permanent friendship and alliance by means of the

Treaty of Windsor. By making these two countries political allies, the treaty

set the stage and opened up the way for the unhindered exchange and traffic

of goods, military support and people. Ultimately, the treaty affected the fate

of would-be migrants from Portugal and its provinces in terms of the

possible destinations open to them. By the nineteenth century, these had

grown to include British possessions in the Caribbean and South America,

including Guyana, St. Vincent, St. Kitts, Antigua, Grenada, Jamaica and

Trinidad.

Long known as a nation of seafarers, the people of Portugal were also

known as a migratory society, primarily because of social, economic and

political factors (cf. Klein 309–10). In the mid-nineteenth century, the

agricultural economies of the Atlantic provinces of Portugal, namely the

archipelagos of the Azores and of the Madeiras, grew increasingly fragile.

Such economic hardship was aggravated by sore neglect on the part of the

Lisbon government, and was a primary motive for mass departures. Many

labourers and others sought to escape adversity by emigrating, and

Portuguese from these two island chains emigrated in droves to the ‘New

World,’ particularly to Canada, the United States, Guyana, Brazil, and

Venezuela.

The year 1834 was the year of the abolition of slavery and the

beginning of the apprenticeship period. In July of that year, four ship-loads

carrying a total of 161 Azorean indentured labourers from the island of Faial

(or Fayal) came to Trinidad aboard British ships, seeking employment and

relief from the burdens of extreme poverty.33 The owners of these ships

were not, however, officially commissioned by the British government to

33
The Regional Archives of Madeira have in their possession a record of an 1834
contract drawn up between Madeirans and planters in Trinidad. Whether any Madeirans
actually migrated to Trinidad in that year remains unknown up to this point. Source: Livro
#2324, Registos Notariais, FLS. 54–55Vº. The Madeiran Archives also possess passport
registers for over 100 persons applying to come to Trinidad between 1851 and 1879.
bring indentured labour to Trinidad from Portugal or its provinces. Rather,

they were aware of the impending labour problems for the sugar planters in

the West Indies and sought to illegally procure indentured labour from

sources other than Africa. Used to the Atlantic slave route, the ships called

at Faial and, allegedly by means of duplicity, the sailors successfully

convinced labourers there of ready farm employment in Trinidad. Unaware

of the unauthorised nature of their situation and the potential hazards on the

sugar estates, the first batch of forty-four Azoreans was surreptitiously

landed, not at the main harbour of Port-of-Spain, but at Las Cuevas on

Trinidad’s north coast. From there they were taken to a Chaguanas estate,

where many grew weak from the stressful labour and climatic conditions.

Illness led to death, and the Azoreans who followed during that year

succumbed to the same fate after overwork on other Chaguanas estates (Reis

315–17).

By 1836, hardly two years after the arrival of the first Azoreans, the

few that survived had twice petitioned the Governor of Trinidad, in English,

to allow them to return home to Faial, since the experiment had failed their

expectations. With the exception of historical documents highlighting their

brief sojourn, there is little or no other available evidence of their presence

here, not even of their probable use of interpreters to write their letters or

plead their case.34

As mentioned earlier, Madeira, like the Azores, suffered from an

increasingly unstable economy in the nineteenth century. Madeira’s wine

industry was the economic base of the majority of islanders, but factors such

as changing markets gave it a severe jolt. At least two devastating vine

diseases also resulted in a lack of available wine for sale. The island’s

economy was on the downturn at that time, and hundreds of Madeirans had

earlier begun to migrate to several locations. In 1835, Portuguese

immigration to Britain’s West Indian colonies was legitimised and the first

legally contracted Madeiran Portuguese labourers went to work in Guyana

(formerly British Guiana or Demerara).35

The Guyanese experiment proved to be relatively successful for

planters and labourers alike, despite an initially high mortality rate, with the

result that by 1846, approximately 12,000 Madeirans had landed in Guyana,

34
See appendix D.
35
See appendix F.
and thousands more followed in later years, reaching up to 21,811 by 1861

(Wood 102). The numbers of Portuguese in Guyana rose to 40,000

(Nepomuceno 100), and accounted for 70% of all Portuguese emigration to

the Caribbean (Vieira 47). Portuguese emigration, including the not

uncommon clandestine emigration, ultimately rose to 14% of the local

resident population in Madeira (Nepomuceno 100). Figures for legal

migration average 716 persons a year during the 1840s to 1860s.

On a much reduced scale, Trinidad attempted to repeat Guyana’s

success by experimenting with European labourers, especially with

Portuguese indentured labour, but also with French, German and British

labour. In 1845, British Guiana authorised a bounty and importation of up to

1,000 Madeiran Portuguese labourers. K.O. Laurence notes that similar

authority was sent to Trinidad but the bounty was never officially proclaimed.

It appears that the original offer of a bounty was to be restricted to Portuguese

who came in the “healthy” season, that is, November to March (“Immigration

into Trinidad”1: 86). In Trinidad, both cocoa planters and sugar planters

were desperate for workers. It was also suggested that Canary Islanders,

many of whom had begun to migrate to Venezuela and later Cuba, be sought
after as indentured labourers. They did not come to Trinidad and Madeirans

instead were drafted for local estate labour. Thus the first Madeirans

destined for Trinidad arrived in 1846.36 An analysis of the numbers of

Madeiran arrivals from 1846 onwards will be carried out in chapter 4.

Madeiran immigrant labour had been proposed by cocoa planters

since 1844, and the introduction of Madeiran labour was later approved only

for the cocoa estates (K.O. Laurence, “Immigration into Trinidad”1: 86).

Because of the then low price of cocoa, however, no planter could afford

Madeiran labour. Sugar planters instead managed to secure the Madeirans

for their estates, and the immigrants themselves chose the sugar estates

because of higher wages. Several more ship-loads were to follow, but the

official Portuguese indenture contracts (originally for two-year periods) came

to an abrupt end only one year later in 1847. Many of the Madeirans in fact

quickly forsook field labour in favour of other less strenuous occupations,

and some were attracted by the higher wages earned as gardeners and

servants (K.O. Laurence, “Immigration into Trinidad”1: 89).

In Madeira, social conflict arising from changing religious patterns in

36
See appendix E.
a formerly constant setting occurred almost simultaneously with that island’s

economic difficulties, causing a mass exodus of a few thousand Madeirans.

What began as the evangelical teaching of the Bible in small schools and the

distribution of free medicines and medical care dramatically concluded in a

volatile clash of religious denominations. Dr. Robert Reid Kalley, a

Protestant Scots medical missionary, had gone to Madeira in 1838 and for

several years managed to conduct his medical practice and missionary

endeavours in an uninterrupted and undisturbed manner. His charitable

works, particularly those in the sphere of education, were officially

commended, until some of his students became “Bible-readers” and elected

to become members of the Church of Scotland (cf. Poage 103, 113). Thus

arose a furore among members of the Roman Catholic Church’s hierarchy in

Funchal and Lisbon, who threatened any Madeiran found to be a follower of

Protestant doctrine with immediate excommunication and/or ultimate

deportation from his/her homeland. Hundreds of Madeiran Presbyterians left

for Trinidad because

they had heard that in the island of Trinidad they might enjoy liberty
of conscience, and freedom to worship God. This made that island
 the place of greatest attraction to them. (Norton 101–102)37

Several later fled to the United States, other West Indian islands and other

countries, but by far the largest number came to Trinidad. Altogether,

approximately 1,000 refugees left.38 In the long run, however, over 700 of

the first Presbyterians who chose Trinidad eventually moved on to another

English-official country, the United States, because of an offer of both land

and work, and in order to “found their own villages, have their own

pastors…” (Day 59).

These two groups of Madeiran Portuguese, one made up of Catholic

labourers, the other of Presbyterian refugees, found their way to Trinidad in

1846 for very distinct reasons, reasons which ultimately affected their

language use, as will be seen later.39

Tobago and Trinidad were united in 1889, when Tobago’s economy

failed, forty-three years after the arrival of the first Madeirans. It is unlikely

37
When Spain capitulated in 1801–02, all Catholics in British Trinidad were to be
allowed freedom of worship. According to article XI of the Articles of Capitulation, “the free
exercise of their religion is allowed to the inhabitants” (Campbell 336, cf. Cameron 4).
38
While no statistics specific to the late 1840s have yet come to light, a glance at
available statistics for 1873 shows that the Madeiran population was only 110,764 by that
time (Gil et al 33). The mass migrations of the mid to late 19th century, of both would-be
labourers as well as the persecuted, therefore left a real dent in the island’s population.
39
See chapter 5.
that any of the earliest immigrants headed directly to Tobago as their

ultimate destination, since the larger Trinidad offered more employment

opportunities. In the years after 1889, however, a few Portuguese shop-

keepers made their way to Tobago, but via Trinidad. After Guyana, Trinidad

remained one of the main West Indian destinations chosen by Madeiran

Portuguese emigrants.

In his summary of the catalysts for emigration from Madeira during

the nineteenth century, Vieira summarises three of the main causes:

The emigration from Madeira in the nineteenth century had many

causes: a slump in the wine market of the 1840s (made worse in 1852
by the effects of the blight of powdery mildew), religious strife in
1844–46, and increasing unemployment among agricultural workers.
(45)

Nepomuceno takes another factor into consideration, that of the downfall of

the potato crops, one of Madeira’s staples, which gave way to a famine in

1846 and 1847:

Bastou uma quebra na produção, em consequência de uma moléstia,

para que de novo se verificasse outro surto de terríveis fomes, com
grandes sofrimentos, violência, agitação social e paralisação
económica.40 (98)

40
“A breakdown in production [of potatoes], caused by disease, was enough for
another outbreak of terrible famines, with great sufferings, violence, social disturbance and a
crippling of the economy to ensue.”
These four factors might be considered the push factor in the departure of

hundreds from Madeira, while promises of a better life elsewhere might be

called the pull factor.41 It appears that Madeirans at that time had a

propensity for emigration. By and large they were welcomed wherever they

went in the West Indies, mostly because they provided cheap labour, and

also because their presence acted as a buffer between the Africans and

Europeans (Brereton, A History of Modern Trinidad 96). They helped to fill

the immediate, though not the long-term, needs of estate owners. Brüdt

notes, however, that “não há, na Madeira, verdadeiros lavradores”42 (64).

This is true of both the nineteenth and twentieth century immigrants to

Trinidad since many had been landowners given to private small-scale

hillside farming, while the women had contributed to the upkeep of the

family by selling their embroidery. Ultimately they were not favoured as

labourers in Trinidad, as most of them preferred to find work off the estates

and in the towns and villages.

41
No doubt the Madeirans who came to Trinidad had heard about the success of their
compatriots in Demerara (cf. Menezes, The Portuguese of Guyana 74).
42
“In Madeira, there are no true labourers.”
 Vieira also considers the fact that emigration was not due only to

socio-economic factors: “a closer analysis of Madeiran emigration goes

beyond particular times of economic stress and shows departures continuing

in periods of economic stability” (46). Some other reasons for emigration,

apart from immediate economic difficulties, included desires to flee military

service and to reunite with family members abroad. Business possibilities

loomed larger in Trinidad and elsewhere. One quick overview of the

emigration history of the Madeirans in Trinidad is as follows:

In course of time both emigrants and refugees were able to branch

out on their own in small businesses. It was no longer the pursuit of
agriculture that induced the emigrants to come here at a later period.
By then, too, the flow of refugees had ceased. (Reis, Associação
Portugueza 129)

The outpouring of refugees came to a complete halt by the late nineteenth

century, and the number of emigrants had begun to wane as well.

The Portuguese Language in the Context of Multilingual Trinidad

By the time of the arrival of the Portuguese in Trinidad, the

Anglicisation policy mentioned earlier had been implemented the decade

before, but was to take effect only in the early twentieth century, the
dominant French Creole reluctantly giving way to English and Creole

English. Before that happened, Gamble described the place of French Creole

or “patois,” as it is locally called, as

the language which the African and the Coolie, and the stranger in
general, learns first, and of course, for the simple reason that he hears
it most frequently spoken. Its vituperative epithets are numerous and
forcible; and … the best known, because the most frequently in use.
(39)

As labourers and shop-keepers, the early Portuguese were probably also

among those obliged to learn French Creole rather than English at first.

Good communication skills were necessary for shop-keepers catering to a

multilingual clientele. Urban Portuguese dwellers may have been under

greater pressure than rural residents to discard their mother tongue earlier, in

favour of French Creole or English or both, since contacts were more

numerous and since their clients in Port-of-Spain and San Fernando in

particular were probably multilingual. An awareness of the eventual socio-

economic benefits to be gained from knowing English was probably not

uppermost in the thinking of the earliest Portuguese whose struggle was one

of survival and of basic economic security. On arrival, most of them

automatically came to occupy the lower strata. They were not caught up in
the battle of gaining access to the top, although their descendants were later

to become interested in or even pre-occupied with social mobility.

Spanish was another language with which the Portuguese in Trinidad

came into contact. The former was a language that had been in Trinidad

hundreds of years before Portuguese, and was spoken by greater numbers of

persons than the latter, but it was not a language of widespread influence.

Although it persisted in the nineteenth century, it was relegated to being

spoken “in certain districts and villages, in which the people are almost

entirely of Spanish descent” (Gamble 39). Gamble’s comments on the

relationship between the two Iberian languages in Trinidad, Portuguese and

Spanish, indicate that some Portuguese speakers could understand Spanish,

and possibly vice-versa, which generally holds true today as well:

There are a good many Portuguese in the island, and many of them
who speak only their own language. Any one, however, who is
familiar with Spanish can understand, and be understood by, a
Portuguese. There seems to be more difference in the accent than in
the vocabularies or structure of the two languages, the Spanish being
both sweet and sonorous, while the Portuguese is to foreign ears
drawling and nasal. (40)

Whether or not Spanish speakers were themselves marginalised in British

Trinidad, even their language appeared to have the victory over Portuguese.
This was because of this apparent issue of one-way intelligibility between the

two languages, and because of its long-standing presence in the island. From

the start, the Portuguese language appeared to lose the battle before it had

even started. In Trinidad, it was surrounded on all sides by other more

dominant languages, and there was little chance of it penetrating the ranks to

achieve national, regional or any local status. The Portuguese were not

expected to maintain their language in the face of French Creole, the

prevailing lingua franca of the 1800s, English, the language of prestige, and

even Spanish, a marginalised but traditional language.

It is important to emphasise the heterogeneous nature of Trinidad’s

demography in the nineteenth century. The island’s population was far too

small to support a national policy that could tolerate the long-term legal co-

existence and survival of several languages, though such co-existence was in

fact a reality for some time. Although there were small, vital ethnolinguistic

groups, it was socially difficult to support the notion of the permanent

existence of each group in the face of such intense, close inter-group contact

and heavy colonial power. There were few rigid social boundaries and no

insurmountable physical difficulties in terms of the local infrastructure and

geography of the land that would prevent contact; on the contrary, the

population was both socially fluid and physically mobile. Indeed, inter-racial

liaisons, official and otherwise, became increasingly common. While

cultural and ethnic plurality could be tolerated, linguistic fragmentation was

clearly another matter. Furthermore, the colonial powers of the time were

not prepared to allow the outward survival of immigrant languages, including

those of groups that could pose no economic threats or challenges. In the

late nineteenth century, the British were doing their best, and were finally

beginning to succeed, in their sustained efforts to quench French as a rival

language to English in the school system and otherwise. Other languages

such as French Creole, though beginning its slide underground, still

persisted, while English Creole, although neither officially nor unofficially

recognised, was gaining ground. Although it was a reality in the complexity

of daily linguistic exchanges, English Creole hardly figured in discussions of

educational and linguistic policy makers, largely because of the low social

status of the majority of its L1 speakers, and the stereotype attached to it as a

heavily stigmatised variety of English.

While the population itself resorted to French Creole as its choice of

a linguistic bridge for the numerous competing languages, this language

ultimately posed little sociolinguistic threat to English (as it was considered

‘broken French,’ and was considered the counterpart of English Creole, often

referred to as ‘broken English’). The colonial government sought after the

collapse of that linguistic bridge and its replacement by that of English.

How active they were in pursuing these policies in the society generally is

seen in the establishment of the Ward schools. The growth and persistence

of Creole English may well have suited the government, however, since a

good command of English would have enabled the masses to have hope of

social mobility and/or dominance.

Already linguistically cosmopolitan before slavery’s end, the society

diversified even further under waves of immigrants who were welcomed for

the sake of the plantation-based economy. As Brereton put it,

Trinidad was among these Caribbean societies [that] were largely

shaped in the post-abolition era by the legacy of the slave system and
its twin, the plantation mode of production (“Social Organisation and
Class” 33).

The estates necessitated a large productive labour force and the open-door

immigration policy was an attempt to boost the economy. The immigration

policy was an open-door one, because of the economic benefits to be derived

by the plantocracy, and it met with varying degrees of success. K.O.

Laurence pointed out that the economy prospered because of immigrants

who came to be seen as a relief for the economy (Immigration into the West

Indies 17). This was a view which was also held by some persons of the

nineteenth century (Port of Spain Gazette, 14 and 23 October 1846). The

openness to immigrants, however, was no indication of a tolerant language

policy, since immigrants were expected to eventually be assimilated into the

society.

The two early Madeiran groups faced similar yet different

experiences of language within the first few years after their arrival. The

similarities lay in the fact that both groups were exposed to an English-

official, French Creole situation in the wider society where there was no

previously established lusophone community. The differences were to be

found in the depth and rate of exposure to English. The more numerous,

more widely dispersed Catholic Portuguese appeared to be under relatively

less pressure towards linguistic conformity, at least during the initial stages.

Unlike the Presbyterians, however, they could not use Portuguese for regular
public worship, although the occasional mass was said in Portuguese. The

fewer, mostly urban-based Presbyterians made valiant attempts at language

maintenance in the context of their church, but they faced inevitable

immersion because of the fact that all other Presbyterian churches conducted

their meetings in English, and because of their numbers.43

During the nineteenth century, when the ‘white’ socially prominent

groups grew smaller and were threatened by the growing ‘coloured’ middle

classes, the French finally but slowly joined hands with the English (creoles

and expatriates) to “maintain their control over the commanding heights of

the colonial economy and their hegemony over the society” (Brereton,

“Social Organisation and Class” 88). Finally, by the early twentieth century,

as these two power groups united to pool their resources, English fully

replaced French as the language of all of the élite, and it was the language

that came to represent these groups as a new unit. Included in that élite

group were also descendants of immigrants from Germany and from Ireland.

Despite the joining of forces, the numbers of ‘non-whites’ continued

to grow and to far outweigh the groups of European origin. During the early

43
See chapter 5 for further discussion.
years of migration, the Portuguese were kept firmly outside the ‘white’ social

walls, although they were Europeans. Their status as uneducated shop-

keepers of the peasant class and their lack of old money were among the

chief reasons. By the 1920s, almost seventy-five years after Portuguese

immigration, the closed ranks of the European creoles opened up again to

welcome those Portuguese who met the criteria of acceptability into the

upper-middle and upper mercantile classes. These criteria included a good

education, and ownership of ‘respectable’ and profitable businesses. The

beginning of “Portuguese prestige” (de Boissière 20) coincided in time with

the implementation of English as the national language in all spheres, and

with the fact that socially accepted Portuguese creoles were native English-

speakers.

Unlike the Indians and their descendants who long resisted absorption

because of factors such as non-European cultures, including religions and

languages, and local social position, the creole Portuguese belonged to the

socially accepted religions, had the “right” skin colour, and generally had

faster and easier access to the top, providing the right socio-economic factors

were in place. Such mobility was limited and restrained at first, but it was
possible. Ease of movement served to pull socially ambitious Portuguese

further and further away from regular use of their ethnic language, and to

push them towards learning English as quickly as possible.

The history of Portuguese settlement in Trinidad outlines several

factors that limited the chances of survival of the Portuguese language. The

language policy of a British regime and the limited numbers of Portuguese

migrants acted as the chief external odds against the continuation of

Portuguese as a living language among the Portuguese in Trinidad.

Prolonged contact of ethnic groups often results in the collapse of traditional

boundaries between these groups. The Portuguese as an ethnic group in

Trinidad ultimately disappeared as an entity in its own right, merging as it

did with various other ethnic groups, of European and other origins, despite

the few who have attempted to preserve their ethnic identity.

Having explored the place of the language in context with other co-

existing languages in the host community, and the external factors that

weighed heavily against the maintenance of Portuguese, this investigation

will now go on to examine the internal demography of the community,

including the actual numbers of arrivals in the country as far as can be

discerned from the available records, as well as residential and marriage

patterns.
 4

THE DEMOGRAPHIC BACKGROUND TO THE PORTUGUESE

SPEECH COMMUNITY44

Despite the fact that speakers of Portuguese formed a minority group within

the wider host society, they were not numerically insignificant, and there are

many descendants of Portuguese immigrants in Trinidad today. The

Madeiran Portuguese constituted perhaps the only significant post-

emancipation European group in Trinidad and Tobago, significant both in

relative size and in their socio-economic contribution to their adopted nation.

The present chapter seeks to account for the initial vitality and

subsequent loss of the Portuguese language in Trinidad by establishing the

strength of the Portuguese presence in Trinidad from the time of arrival of

the first Madeirans to the present time, and by examining the internal

structure of the community in terms of professions, and marriage patterns.

Information on the numbers of native Portuguese speakers and the size and

make-up of the group over time provides important information on the

background to the vitality and loss of the Portuguese language in Trinidad.

44
The concept of ‘speech community’ is discussed in chapter 5.
Numbers and Records

Generally speaking, there has never been precise or regular

documentation of all foreign-born and locally-born Portuguese from 1846 to

the present time. Historical records preserve discrepancies in the tally of

Portuguese nationals and descendants, thereby making it difficult to arrive at

any accurate conclusion. Modern local censuses used to but no longer

include separate returns for the Portuguese as a national minority. The last

year for the classification and registration of persons as ‘Portuguese’ in local

censuses was 1960.

With regard to nineteenth century record-keeping, there is still no

absolute certainty nor unanimity concerning the precise number of

Portuguese who came to Trinidad in that century. Hundreds of Portuguese

arrived from Madeira between 1846 and 1848. For the short period from

1846 to 1847, there are at least three different figures for the numbers of

immigrants. Wood notes that 1,298, of whom 725 were Catholics and 573

were Protestants arrived in 1846 (106), while K.O. Laurence records that

1,003 persons arrived during that year (“Immigration into Trinidad”1: 87).
A third researcher has it that only 897 arrived between 1846 and 1881 (Ciski

92). However, the arrival, as opposed to the settlement, of approximately

one thousand Protestants between 1846 and 1849 alone (as estimated by

Reis, Associação Portugueza 127) is probably reasonably accurate, since

writers such as Baillie and Norton also agree that hundreds of Portuguese

Protestants went to the United States via Trinidad. By 1854, only a few

hundred Portuguese, Catholic and Protestant, were left in the colony, the

majority of Protestants having re-migrated to the United States from 1849

and onwards.

In terms of the twentieth century, hundreds of Portuguese citizens

came to Trinidad up to the 1950s. Because of the existence and availability

of records kept by the honorary Portuguese Consulate, data on the numbers

of twentieth century immigrants is likely to be somewhat more accurate than

for those of the nineteenth century. Since the linguistic data collected and

analysed in this study were drawn from both twentieth century immigrants

and the children and grandchildren of twentieth century immigrants to

Trinidad, this discussion of twentieth century migration is especially

important as background to the informants and the data they were able to
provide.

Language transmission depends heavily on women, who are often the

‘culture carriers’ or ‘guardians’ of language and culture of any ethnic group

(cf. Dabène and Moore 30). However, relatively little information is

available on the male-female ratio of immigrants in both the nineteenth and

twentieth centuries. There were generally more male immigrants than

female, as borne out in data provided by the Consulate; nonetheless there

was a significant number of the latter.

From the first shipload of 219 indentured labourers to the last

immigrants of the 1940s to 1960s, the number of Portuguese nationals in the

community has been subject to fluctuations, largely due to a lack of steady

migration from Madeira. In 1900, Reis notes that there were an estimated

2,000 nationals of Portugal in Trinidad. Less than half a century later in

1945, this figure dropped by ninety percent to between 200 to 230 persons in

both Trinidad and Tobago (Reis, Associação Portugueza 129, 269).

While the numbers of Portuguese nationals continued to diminish

over time, the actual community of ‘Portuguese’ persons grew with the birth

of creoles of Portuguese descent in the late nineteenth century. The 1946

Census of Trinidad and Tobago noted that while “there is an apparent drop

in Portuguese Nationals […], it seems likely that not a few who were

returned as natives of the West Indies are, as a matter of fact, of Portuguese

descent.” It appears that separate returns for the Portuguese in censuses after

that time included both Portuguese nationals and creoles.

The Portuguese community appeared to increase, not only because of

the birth of Portuguese creoles, but also as a result of secondary out-

migration of other Portuguese creoles from other Caribbean territories. The

latter include Antigua, Guyana, St. Kitts and St. Vincent.

Retro-migration, that is, resettlement in their homeland of Portugal in

general, Madeira in particular, does not appear to have been very common.

Although there are recorded cases of repatriates in Consulate records, the

immigrants usually chose to stay or settle elsewhere. (See below for further

discussion.)

By 1960, the community comprising both Portuguese-born and

creoles of Portuguese descent (born in Trinidad and Tobago and other West

Indian territories) reached up to 3,400, according to the 1960 Census. Today

the number of ‘Portuguese’ persons in Trinidad averages approximately

2,000 or fewer, according to the present honorary Consul for Portugal (cf. J.

Ferreira, The Portuguese 25). The Portuguese Consulate and the Associação

Portuguesa can only estimate the numbers of Luso-descendants and the

estimate of 2,000 is probably conservative. However, if products of both

endogamous and exogamous unions are included, numbers in the group

extend to the thousands.45 The Trinidadian Portuguese community consists

of those born in Madeira, Portugal, of whom there are no more than

seventeen persons alive in Trinidad today, and those of Portuguese or part

Portuguese descent.

It is also important to note that the European creole community in

1960 amounted to only 1.9% of the total population of Trinidad and Tobago,

a total of 15,718 persons. That figure does not include the Portuguese, who

came under a separate category, and for whom the total figure was 2,416 in

1960 (Population Census 1960). By 1990, the Euro-creole population

decreased to 7,254 persons, this time including the Portuguese, and

representing 0.65% of the national population (1990 Population and Housing

45
The descendants of the author’s paternal great-grandparents alone exceed 491
individuals, almost a quarter of 2,000. Of these, 232 (47.25%) are half or more than half
Portuguese. Only 63 (13%) are products of endogamous Portuguese unions.
Census).

The following table is a summary of the numbers of Portuguese

nationals in Trinidad from 1834 to 1881, and in Trinidad and Tobago from

1891 to 1970. Note that the figures for the years 1960 to 1970 also include

creoles.
 Table 1
Numbers of Portuguese in Trinidad

YEAR PLACE OF ORIGIN TOTAL

1834–1836 Azores 161
1846–1847 Madeira 1,29846
1861 Cape Verde 172+47
1871 Portugal, mainly Madeira 605
1881 Portugal, mainly Madeira 709
1891 Portugal, mainly Madeira 701
1901 Portugal, mainly Madeira 731 to 2,00048
1911 Portugal, mainly Madeira 70849
1921 Portugal, mainly Madeira 517
1931 Portugal, mainly Madeira 34550
1946 Portugal, mainly Madeira 31351
1951 Portugal, mainly Madeira 200 to 23052
1960 Portugal, mainly Madeira 2,416 to 3,40053
1970 Portugal, mainly Madeira 1,80254

Main sources: Censuses of the Population of Trinidad and Tobago 1891,

1901, 1921, 1931, 1946 and 1960, and others as footnoted.

The apparent disparity in the figures for 1901 attests to the lack of

consensus about the size of the Portuguese community. The first figure of

46
Wood 106.
47
Census 1891; no separate returns in census.
48
Reis, Associação Portugueza 129.
49
Census 1921.
50
Census 1931.
51
Census 1946.
52
Reis, Associação Portugueza 269.
53
Census 1960 and Lowenthal 202.
54
1970 Census of the Commonwealth Caribbean
731 given by the Census of 1901 counts only nationals of Portugal, that is,

those born in Portugal and her provinces. Reis admits that the figure of

2,000 is an estimate. The source for his information is not disclosed, and it

may well have been the Portuguese Consulate. For the years following the

turn of the century, however, Reis accurately quotes census reports. Even

then, after almost half a century of migration, there was a general lack of

clarity about the size and composition of the group. Later figures include

creoles of Portuguese descent, which shows that both the definition and

delineation of the make-up of the Portuguese community changed with time.

Much of the following discussion is based on data that was gleaned

from a source that is extant and accessible but hitherto unexamined, namely

the records kept by the Honorary Portuguese Consulate in Port-of-Spain. The

main Embassy and Consulate of Portugal, which currently serve a

community of thousands of Portuguese, are located in Caracas, Venezuela.

According to the local Consulate, the Caracas mission does not hold old

records pertaining to Trinidad and Tobago since the local Consulate was

autonomous for many years and therefore kept its own records. The

Consulate has preserved some records of immigration, of which there are

two types available, that is registration certificates of immigration, and

applications for passports for Portuguese citizens, and their spouses and

children who were also entitled to Portuguese citizenship.55

An overview of the available data reveals the following facts. Of the

registered 897 Portuguese nationals and spouses (if not Portuguese-born):

(1) of the 897, 82.7% came between 1900 and 1950 (according to the

Consulate data, the earliest recorded applicant came in 1875, and the

last came in 1975),

(2) 739 or 82.4% were male and 158 or 17.6% were female,

(3) the majority of 53.62% came from the capital of Funchal and

environs,

(4) of the funchalenses, 20.3% were in business as businessmen and

27.5% as clerks, and

55
“The Consulate” refers to the Honorary Consulate of Portugal, currently under Mr.
Ignatius Ferreira, Furness Complex, 11–13, Milling Avenue, Sea Lots, Port-of-Spain. It also
refers to past Consulates, also run by businessmen in their offices. The present Consul
received the four volumes of files (one of immigrant registration certificates, three of passport
applications) from José Thiago Gonsalves, Honorary Consul and Vice-Consul for twenty
years from 1963 to 1983. There are also three other volumes of immigrant registration
certificates under study. There may well be other extant volumes in the offices of former
Consuls. (See J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 103 for a list of Consuls and Vice-Consuls from
1893 to 1896.) The Consulate volumes are hard bound, and consist of stubs containing the
same information as that on the receipts given to the applicants. (See also footnote 3 in
chapter 3.)
(5) the majority went to live or started off in Port-of-Spain.

Generally speaking, immigration registration was done only once for

most persons. Since, however, most certificates were valid for only one year

after issue, individuals could apply as often as needed. Passports were, of

course, subject to expiration, and a series of applications was possible, which

was often the reality for travelling businessmen and sailors in particular, as

well as others. The registration files include over one thousand documents,

and there are over 500 passport applications, but all applications represent

only a total of 897 applicants. Some of the applications included the names

of the wife and children of male applicants, since it seems possible that

families made their applications under the father’s name. Applications for

women could also include the names of their children. However, the total

figure of 897 registrants analysed here does not include these family

members registered under one person’s name; it refers only to the actual

number of chief applicants or registrants recorded by the Consulate. These

other individuals number approximately 246, bringing the total to 1,143.

However, since there is no analysable data on these persons, these 246

persons are not included in the discussion to follow.

 The basic information common to both the immigration registration

forms and the passport applications included the applicant’s name, parents’

names, place of birth, and physical description (height, colour of hair and

eyes, nose, mouth, beard, and sometimes colour of skin). Some volumes

also included information on the applicant’s civil status, previous place of

residence, local residence, date of arrival, information on spouses and

children, destination and photographs and, in the case of passport

applications, cross-referencing to the registration books.56

Until 1930, the illiteracy rate for Madeira and the Azores was 77%

(Moreira 16). Unfortunately, the data does not record the literacy status of

most of the immigrants. Only if the applicant was unable to sign his/her

signature, was a note of explanation included, “não sabe ler/escrever”

(“cannot write/read”). This does not appear to have been done with any

degree of consistency, but the records that do show this provide a helpful

clue to the literacy level and ability of some of the individual applicants.

Because of this inconsistency in the records, a comprehensive statistical

56
See appendix C for formats of sample registration forms.
count is not possible. Although the files are in generally poor condition,

they are legible, and it is safe to say that this source provides the best, most

thorough, and most reliable, available primary data on Portuguese

immigration to Trinidad.

While the demographic data provided by the Portuguese Consulate is

of considerable value, several problems and limitations can be detected. The

main problem is that of completeness. Although the Consulate was

established in the late nineteenth century, the extant files range only from

1917 to 1975, a period of 58 years. Assuming that record-keeping began

with the first Consul’s appointment in 1893, information for over twenty-six

years is therefore missing. It is not likely that all records ever kept are still

in existence today.

The registration files are the most voluminous and span 1917 to 1975.

The passport applications range only from 1931 to 1963. According to the

present Honorary Consul who took office in 1985, the Consulate was

empowered to issue passports until the immigration laws in Portugal were

tightened in the late 1980s.57 It is likely that there are other records of

applications made after 1975 to the present Consulate. These were probably

made by immigrants who were residents of Trinidad and Tobago, spouses,

children and grandchildren of Portuguese, since no new Portuguese are

known to have immigrated after the 1960s.

Other problems include the comprehensiveness and the slant of the

data. While it is fairly certain that all or most of those issued a certificate of

registration were immigrants, not every Portuguese residing in Trinidad

registered as an immigrant, since it was not obligatory, and the files kept

were probably never intended to be censuses per se. For example, of the six

Madeirans interviewed (see appendix A), four registered with the Consulate,

and no files were found for the other two. The two unregistered informants

are also the more recent immigrants, having arrived after 1945.

There were also some 15 retornados (return migrants or repatriates)

among the applicants; that is, persons who stayed for some time, but

ultimately returned or were deported back to Madeira. These persons may or

57
All first and second generation creole Portuguese and spouses of Portuguese citizens
must now direct their requests to Portugal’s Embassy and Consulate in Caracas, Venezuela.
may not be counted as immigrants, which makes the determining the total of

immigrants somewhat problematic. There are also others who emigrated to

other countries, some shortly after arrival, others years after settling and

establishing their families here. Among the informants for this thesis, one of

the Madeirans (also a citizen of this country) eventually migrated to North

America, and the Portuguese Mozambican-born mother of another informant

migrated to the UK. Since they maintain strong family and business

connections here, they would be counted as part of the modern community.

It is not certain that retornados who only stayed for a short time before re-

migrating would be counted in a similar way.

In terms of the ethnicity of registrants, not all were of Portuguese

origin. Portuguese citizens came not only from Portugal, but from Cape

Verde, Mozambique, Angola, Goa and Macau. Only one applicant born

outside of Portugal was a creole Portuguese; the rest born outside of Portugal

were all non-Portuguese in ethnicity and race. Among the in-transit

applicants were some fourteen Cape Verdean sailors who comprised some

1.6% of the total number of applicants, but the majority, 96.2%, were

“ethnic Portuguese.” Altogether 32 persons or 3.6% were of other ethnic

origins, and no information or photographs were available for 2 persons

(0.2% of the total number). Spouses of Portuguese citizens were the most

varied in ethnicity, and were Portuguese, part-Portuguese, non-Portuguese,

and non-European in ethnicity, and were of various national origins,

including other former British West Indian territories, Venezuela, Spain and

the U.S.A.

With regard to the passport applications, not all Portuguese persons

residing in Trinidad applied for passports, since some never needed to, never

having left Trinidad after immigrating. In-transit Portuguese citizens en

route to Venezuela, Curaçao, or Brazil could also apply to the local consulate

for passports or renewals of their passports. This does not necessarily prove

that the applicant was in Trinidad to stay for any length of time. From the

passport applications, it is not always possible to ascertain who was merely

in-transit, who became permanent residents, and who ultimately returned to

their home country.

Determining the immigrant status of applicants can be based on five

criteria: (1) the number of applications, (2) the number of years between first

and last passport applications, (3) whether the registration certificate firmly
states that the applicant was in-transit, (4) the occupation of the applicant,

since sailors were generally in-transit or non-resident, and (5) the writer’s

knowledge of historical personalities, and personal acquaintance with

immigrants and/or of their descendants. Despite these criteria, however, it is

still very difficult to determine the migratory status of the registrants. Apart

from the 15 return migrants already mentioned, there were at least 32

persons who were definitely not immigrants,58 29 persons who were born in

Trinidad and who were therefore not immigrants, at least 162 persons who

were definite immigrants, 531 persons who were probable immigrants, and

128 whose status is unknown.

The statistics are generally in favour of north-based male Portuguese

involved in commerce, and do not take into account all members of the

Portuguese community, born in Portugal, in Trinidad, or other areas. It is

also possible that those who registered with the Consulate saw it to their

advantage to do so, or wanted to preserve their affinity to and connection

with Portugal and Madeira by registering. While it is certainly the best

58
This figure includes four persons from Cape Verde who entered Trinidad illegally on
an Italian ship and who spent some time in the Royal Gaol in Port-of-Spain.
source of data available, the Consulate data must therefore be considered a

sample that is only partially representative.

The following chart shows the numbers of Portuguese who arrived in

Trinidad over a period of one hundred years from 1875 to 1975, according to

the Portuguese Consulate. While the chart does not establish numbers of

actual immigrants, it reveals greater numbers of arrivals than previously

known for this century. Of the 897 persons in Consulate files, at least 792

came in the twentieth century, 51 in came in the nineteenth century (or may

have been born then), and no indication of year of arrival or migration is

given for 54 persons, some of whom were not migrants but were related to

Portuguese citizens. Especially significant is the fact that 595 Portuguese

nationals are recorded as having arrived in Trinidad between 1910 and 1930,

post-World War I. Some of these persons were en route to other permanent

destinations and were simply passing through Trinidad. Nevertheless, the

traffic was great enough to indicate that there was ongoing contact with

Portugal, probably more than in any era prior to this, except of course for the

1840s to 1850s.
 Chart 1
Year of Arrival
Year of Arrival

300
250
200
150
100
50
0
1875 - 1890 s 1900 s 1910 s 1920 s 1930 s 1940 s 1950 s 1960 s 1970 s Ot he r Unkn o
1888 wn

Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

Origins and Residential Patterns

It is important to note that many of the immigrants came from the

same places and many were related or had strong business connections.

Many continued to cluster in nearby places in their new home environment.

Of Madeira, Francis Rogers notes that “the nature of living on the island,

namely, the spread-out distribution of dwellings due to the difficult nature of

the terrain” meant that homes were “not clustered into villages; therefore

there was little awareness of village society” (Atlantic Islanders 65).

Although this was so, the average Madeiran was and still is accustomed to a

strong sense of family, nuclear and extended, which often includes more than

one generation under one roof, usually grandparents and sometimes

grandchildren (Rogers, Atlantic Islanders 315). Many of the immigrants

developed strong bonds with each other in their new environment, and

virtually became family to one another, in a sense replacing the family they

had left behind.

With regard to the area, town or village of origin of the Portuguese

registered with the Consulate, 81.6% or 732 persons came from Madeira,

representing the vast majority of the registrants. Table 2 clearly shows that,

according to the Consulate data, most of the Madeirans came from the main

concelho (county or municipality) of Funchal, which is also the name of the

capital of Madeira. In Funchal, the greatest number of persons, including

most of the 162 definite migrants, came from the towns of São Roque, Santo

António and Monte. Several other registrants came from the municipality of

Calheta.

The rest of the registrants came from a variety of other Madeiran

towns, mainland Portugal, and Cape Verde, while some of the registrants
came from Trinidad, other West Indian territories and elsewhere. No

information, however, is available on the origins of 2.7% of the registered

persons. The persons born in Trinidad were usually the spouses or children

of Portuguese citizens. Both of these groups were automatically entitled to

Portuguese citizenship. Table 3 shows the origins of the 165 non-Madeirans

registered with the Consulate in Trinidad, who constituted 18.4% of the total

number of registrants.
 Table 2

Table showing origins of Madeirans registered with the Portuguese

Consulate

COUNTY59 OF TOTAL TOWN OF ORIGIN NUMBER

ORIGIN IN THE NUMBER PER OF
MADEIRA COUNTY PERSONS
ISLANDS PER TOWN
CALHETA 98 Arco da Calheta 37
Calheta 57
Estreito da Calheta 2
Ponta do Pargo 1
Prazeres 1
CÂMARA DE 29 Câmara de Lobos 22
LOBOS Estreito de Câmara de Lobos 7
FUNCHAL 481 Monte 76
Santa Luzia 30
Santa Maria Maior 43
Santo António 82
São Gonçalo 24
São Martinho 55
São Pedro 24
São Roque 124
Funchal (Sé) 23
MACHICO 8 Machico 8
PONTA DO SOL 16 Ponta do Sol 13
Canhas 3
PORTO MONIZ 6 Porto do Moniz 6
RIBEIRA 16 Campanário 1
BRAVA Ribeira Brava 15
SANTA CRUZ 52 Santa Cruz 42
Camacha 4

59
It should be noted that these are modern political divisions that do not necessarily
correspond to the reality known by the immigrants at the time of migration.
 Caniço 6
SANTANA 6 Santana 2
Faial 3
São Roque do Faial 1
SÃO VICENTE 10 São Vicente 10
PORTO SANTO 4 Porto Santo 4
NOT STATED 7 7
TOTAL 732 732
Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

The above table is graphically represented in the following pie chart.

Note the overwhelming numbers who came from Funchal and environs. Very

few persons came from the island of Porto Santo.

Chart 2
Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain
 The following map of Madeira illustrates the geographic relationship

of one town to another. It is interesting to note that the majority of

registrants came from Funchal, the island’s main port, as well as the two

concelhos nearest to Funchal, namely Câmara de Lobos to the west and

Santa Cruz to the east. Note that each concelho bears the same name as its

main town.

Map 1
Map of Madeira and Porto Santo
Source: Freitas 90
 Of the non-Madeirans who registered with the Portuguese Consulate,

the majority came from continental Portugal, followed by Trinidadian-born

Portuguese and other Luso-West Indians. The following table summarises

the origins of the non-Madeirans, and includes figures for 33 persons whose

origins were not recorded.

Table 3
Table showing origins of non-Madeirans registered with the Portuguese
Consulate

OTHER AREAS OF NUMBERS PERCENTAGE

ORIGIN OF PERSONS OF TOTAL OF
897
PORTUGAL 59 6.58%
CAPE VERDE 14 1.56%
OTHER PORTUGUESE 7 0.78%
60
PROVINCES
TRINIDAD61 29 3.23%
GUYANA 11 1.23%
OTHER W.I. 4 0.45%
TERRITORIES62
ELSEWHERE63 8 0.89%
UNKNOWN 33 3.68%

60
Angola (2), Macau (2), Azores (1), Goa (1), and Mozambique (1)
61
18 from Port-of-Spain, 4 from San Fernando, 7 from elsewhere (inc. Chaguanas,
Barataria and Princes Town)
62
St. Vincent (2), St. Kitts (1) and Antigua (1)
63
Suriname (2), Spain (2), Venezuela (1), U.S.A. (1), France (1), and Zanzibar (1)
TOTAL 165 18.4%

Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

On the point of local residence, not all of the documents under

investigation actually include a local address. While it is true that the

majority of Portuguese settled in or near the main town of Port-of-Spain, the

available data appears to favour those who were north-based, possibly

because of greater ease of access to the consulate than for others based

elsewhere. The following table shows the number of registered immigrants to

areas of residence.

Table 4
Local Residence of Persons Registered with the Portuguese Consulate

COUNTY TOTAL TOWN OF NUMBER OF

NUMBER PER RESIDENCE PERSONS
PERSONS PER
COUNTY TOWN
ST. GEORGE 572 Port-of-Spain 488
Diego Martin 12
San Juan 27
St. Joseph 12
Tunapuna 11
Tacarigua 12
Arima 10
CARONI 40 Chaguanas 20
 Couva 20
VICTORIA 81 San Fernando 76
Princes Town 5
ST. PATRICK 18 Fyzabad 5
Siparia 10
La Brea 3
ST. DAVID 0 0
ST. ANDREW 0 0
NARIVA 0 0
MAYARO 0 0
TOBAGO 0 0
UNKNOWN 166 166
OVERSEAS 20 20
ADDRESSES
GIVEN

Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

Although Tobago is recorded as having no Portuguese living there,

there was some traffic between the two islands and at least three Portuguese

immigrants are known to have set up businesses there.

The figures given in the above table cannot be considered to be static

as the registers provide information over a period of 58 years. There was, in

reality, almost constant moving around in both islands. Although the table

shows a heavy concentration in Port-of-Spain, many of the registrants who

registered more than once gave more than one local address, indicating a fair
amount of movement within Port-of-Spain in particular, and Trinidad in

general. This is true from generation to generation. The broad distribution

of Portuguese speakers had serious implications for the viability of the

language. Informants note that there were small concentrations of

Portuguese families in specific areas. From an outside perspective, these

families became closely associated with the trading and shop-keeping in

particular areas outside of Port-of-Spain and San Fernando, such as five

families in Chaguanas, three in Scarborough and environs, some in Siparia,

and so on. However, numbers as small as three and five families, however

large the individual families, were hardly enough to sustain language

transmission and maintenance, and these families were probably even more

vulnerable to language shift than the greater constellations in the more urban

areas.

Several factors, including ongoing geographic and social mobility

within Trinidad, considerably increased the group’s vulnerability to social

and linguistic influence from the wider society. With increasing desire for

social mobility and the accompanying financial capability to facilitate this,

many Portuguese sought to leave urban Port-of-Spain and settle in suburban

communities such as Woodbrook, Diego Martin and the wealthier areas of

Carenage and Point Cumana. Geographic mobility in some cases is

indirectly related to social status. This movement away from dense

communities helped to turn the historical bondedness of the Portuguese

community into suburban uniplexity, as will be seen in the discussion of

social networks in chapter 5.

The following map of Trinidad shows the areas of residence or

location of the Portuguese registered with the Port-of-Spain Consulate. In

much the same manner that the majority of registrants originated in the main

port area of Funchal, many chose to settle in and around Trinidad’s main

port of entry, Port-of-Spain, and others later moved to the second largest

town of San Fernando.

 Within Port-of-Spain, 247 persons gave an address in what is today

downtown Port-of-Spain. Of these, there were also 39 persons (or 8% of the

registrants based in Port-of-Spain) who stated no specific area. The

breakdown of the rest is as follows:

• Belmont – 81 (or 16.6%)

• Woodbrook – 45 (or 9.22%)
• St. James – 33 (or 6.76%)
• Newtown – 28 (or 5.74%)
• St. Ann’s/Cascade – 23 (or 4.71%)
• St. Clair – 13 (or 2.66%)
• Laventille – 9 (or 1.84%)
• Maraval – 9 (or 1.84%)

Information from other sources confirms that the majority of

Portuguese continued to live in or near Port-of-Spain up to 1960. According

to the Population Census of 1960, over 67% of the north-based Portuguese

lived in middle-income areas in and around Port-of-Spain. Of that number,

25% lived in downtown Port-of-Spain, or Port-of-Spain proper, 21.5% in

Belmont, 20.4% in Woodbrook, 10.4% in St. James, 10% in Newtown, 5.5%

in St. Clair, 2.7% in East Dry River, and 1.5% in Clifton Hill, Cocorite and

Gonzales.

The following map of Port-of-Spain highlights the main areas where

the Portuguese settled. These include Belmont, Newtown, Woodbrook and

the downtown area near to the dock area, to the south of the city. Laventille

is situated in the east, St. Ann’s/Cascade in the north-east of the Savannah,

and St. James is to the west of Woodbrook.

 Map 3
Map of Port-of-Spain
Source: Media and Editorial Projects Limited (1997)
 A glance at the 1999 telephone directory reveals that there is a heavy

concentration of Portuguese names in the north-western peninsula. However,

names alone are not an indication of portugalidade (“Portugueseness”), that

is, identification with or affinity to the Portuguese community, nor are they

an indication of modern links with Madeira.

In one informant’s neighbourhood of 31 families, for example, there

are nine families with Portuguese origins and/or surnames (two originating in

Guyana), including two sets of families connected to each other. Only two of

the nine families appear to be aware of their ancestry. These continue to

have links with other Luso-descended families, and are involved or have

been involved in activities of the Portuguese community.

An overview of biographical information of the 36 informants for this

thesis reveals the following information:

• of the 36, 6 are from Madeira, 1 was born in Guyana, the rest were born

in Trinidad and Tobago

• of those born in Trinidad and Tobago, five were born in south Trinidad,

two in Chaguanas, one in St. Joseph, two in Curepe, one in Arima, one in
 Santa Cruz, one in Tobago, and the rest are from Port-of-Spain and

environs

• at the time of interviewing, 27 persons lived in Port-of-Spain and

environs, 2 in Mt. Lambert, 3 in Curepe/St. Augustine, 1 in Arima and 3

in San Fernando; the three in Curepe and one from San Fernando have

since moved to Port-of-Spain

• nearly all informants improved their standard of living over time and this

is reflected in their residence of today as compared with the residence of

their childhood

• all except two stayed in Trinidad, one creole, one madeirense; four are

now deceased (including 3 madeirenses), as are immediate relatives of 6

persons

• 34 are Catholic and 2 are Protestant

• the 36 represent 26 families, since there is one family of 3 brothers, a

family of a mother and 4 of her 14 children, two mothers and daughters,

two cousins, and one aunt and her niece

• only 9 of 31 are involved in endogamous unions

• 10 families have had contact with Madeira, that is, they have either
 visited, or have had relatives visit.

Although there are 158 female registrants in the Consulate files,

including some born in Trinidad, it is not certain how many native-born

Portuguese women migrated during the years of migration. The files are

unable to reveal this information with any accuracy, since many married

women did not apply for passports for two main reasons: (1) fewer women

travelled, and (2) several of those who did, travelled under their husbands’

names.

The age ratio is not fully revealed in the files since not all children

travelled as frequently as their parents, primarily because of the cost factors

involved, and so they were not mentioned in the passport applications. There

were, however, three families that migrated with several children between

1929 and 1932, and in these families, all of the children born in Madeira

were entered as separate registrants.

It is important to note that the average registered immigrant left

his/her home at the age of 28 or under. The importance of this lies in the

fact that most of the twentieth century migrants left their home with full

competence in their mother tongue, were old enough to have children and
pass on the language, even to English-schooled grandchildren, yet the

efficacy of their attempts to do so, if at all, is doubtful. Since many of them

had left Madeira behind with a sense of permanence and turned their

attention to survival and success in their new home, the motivation to keep

the Portuguese language alive was not very high. Many of these young adult

Madeirans were also young and flexible enough to want to learn another

language. The following chart shows the age on arrival of the registered

nationals of Portugal.

Chart 3
Age on Arrival
Age on Arrival

300
250
200
150
100
50
0
Un d e r 11- - 20- - 30- - 40- - 50- - 60- - 70 Un k n o
11 19 29 39 49 59 69 a nd w n
Ov e r

Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

Most of these immigrants were born in the late nineteenth century to early

twentieth century. The chart confirms that these are the ancestors of

many Luso-Trinidadians alive today who have at least one immigrant

grandparent. There are a few hundred persons in the Portuguese

community with at least one Madeiran-born parent, aged 35 and over, and

hundreds more under that age with at least one Madeiran-born

grandparent, as mentioned in chapter 1 (see pages 30–31). This chart

represents an effort to determine probable numbers of those exposed to

the Portuguese language in their childhood. This will be dealt with

further in chapter 5.

Chart 4
Year of Birth

Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

 With reference to the profession of applicants, the type of

occupations held by the Portuguese is also important. Most of those who

registered as immigrants or applied for passports were businessmen, as

already indicated. As noted on most certificates, the vast majority of the

registrants from Calheta were not immigrants, but were labourers en route to

Aruba, Curaçao and/or Venezuela. There was no such known influx of

Portuguese labourers to Trinidad in the twentieth century. As noted in

chapter 3, the first nineteenth century ship-loads of Portuguese were mainly

indentured immigrants and refugees who later deserted field labour in favour

of jobs as shop-keepers, clerks, market gardeners, mechanics, domestics,

seamstresses, and divers other types of self-employment.

The twentieth century registers prove that more than half the number

of 739 Portuguese men were involved in some aspect of the commercial

sector, whether as businessmen or store clerks. The general notion or

stereotype of Portuguese shop-keepers is a fact confirmed both by

informants’ accounts of the trades of their forefathers, and the Consulate’s

registers. This fact is vital for understanding language use, since these

business clusters provided a natural outlet outside the home for language
maintenance among the men. Language use in the business arena will be

further discussed in the following chapter.

Of the 158 women (17.6% of those registered), most of them were

listed as domestics, or housewives involved in housework, whether or not

they participated in their husbands’ businesses, and a few were listed as full-

time seamstresses or embroidery workers. Fewer still were listed as

businesswomen. The fact that the majority of female registrants were

housewives is crucial. As Dabène and Moore show,

members who do not have to maintain close links with the host
society (for example, housewives) [often] develop minimal skills in
the majority language. Women usually seem to be most affected by
such phenomena. Their central position in families imposes the
extensive usage of the original language as the privileged code for
daily conversation. (22–23)

This is undoubtedly true for the early female immigrants of the last century.

For some time, the men tended to be involved in the same areas of

commerce. For the very earliest immigrants, therefore, conditions appeared

to be ideal for reinforcing language maintenance both within and outside the

home.

The following table summarises the types of professions in which

Portuguese registrants were involved.

Table 5
Professions of Portuguese Immigrants

PROFESSION MALE FEMALE PERCENTAGE

Owner of Business 182 20%

Clerk or Employee 247 27.5%

Labourer 110 12%

Sailor 42 5%

Domestic 126 14%

Embroidery Worker 5 0.5%

Other 45 5%

Unknown 140 16%

Source: Consulado de Portugal in Port-of-Spain

Harney makes the interesting and accurate point that

immigrants are rarely statistically or culturally representative of the

country they leave behind… [the] vast majority of Portuguese
migrants were island people, peasants, fishermen, sailors with limited
educational backgrounds. (125)

This is true for Trinidad as well, where the majority of immigrants were
from the Madeira Islands, and were originally peasants, with a few sailors in

their midst. In Trinidad, many became involved in commerce, and the

majority owned rum shops and groceries, creating cohesion and

interdependence among community members. As later discussions of social

networks in chapter 5 will show, tight networks were maintained in the

Portuguese business community, which aided language maintenance for

some time.

Marriage Patterns

With regard to marriages, unfortunately the Consulate’s data does not

give details for a large number of registrants. Of the total number of persons

recorded as married at the time of registration, there were only 231 such

persons, accounting for 25.8% of the whole group. This group also includes

divorcees, widowers and widows. Of the data that is available, 395

registrants were young, unmarried men at the time of arrival and/or

registration, and this group of persons accounts for 44% of all registrants. No

information is available for 271 persons or 30.2% of all applicants. This

means that 74.2% of registered persons are therefore omitted from a full
analysis of endogamous and exogamous unions.

Out of the total number of 231 married registrants, 195 or 84.42%

were involved in endogamous unions, that is, they were married to ethnic

Portuguese from within the community, while 36 persons or 15.58%, were

involved in exogamous unions, or married to persons outside the Portuguese

community. It is also important to acknowledge the actual place of birth of

the spouses in these 195 endogamous unions since only the Portuguese-born

were native speakers of the Portuguese language. The majority of 38% came

from Portugal (83 from Madeira and 4 from continental Portugal), 20% were

Luso-Trinidadians, and the rest were mostly from Guyana, St. Vincent, other

West Indian territories and Venezuela.

Taking a closer look at the 162 definite migrants (see page 114), it is

interesting to note that of the 40 definite female immigrants,64 29 married

Portuguese men, the spouses of 3 were of other European origin, and 8 were

single, including one whose child’s father was of Afro-Trinidadian origin. Of

the three whose spouses were of other European origin, two are sisters who

64
Of these 40, 32 were from Madeira, including one from Porto Santo, 3 were from
Portugal, 1 from Mozambique, 2 from Guyana, 1 from the U.S.A. and 1 from Spain who may
have been part Portuguese. The individual whose child’s father was non-Portuguese felt very
much ostracized. Her situation was clearly not the norm, as it violated ethnic, religious and
gender norms and values.
migrated to Trinidad in 1931 at the ages of 2 and 5, and subsequently

migrated to the United States. It appears to be that, among these immigrant

women, the exceptions to endogamous unions were very few, and the

overwhelming majority of Portuguese-born women married Portuguese-born

men or men of Portuguese descent. Arranged marriages were not unknown,

and Madeiran-born Portuguese were often chosen as mates for creole

Portuguese women, and the criteria were usually ethnicity, socio-economic

status and religion. Men, on the other hand, not only had non-Portuguese

wives, but also had liaisons and children with non-Portuguese women, to the

extent that Albert Gomes wrote that the Portuguese “were assimilated into

the population in this way” (Through a Maze of Colour 10). Ethnolinguistic

intermarriage is almost automatically accompanied by language loss to

successive generations, or put another way, by linguistic assimilation of the

minority partner and the children of the union.

With reference to the marriage patterns among the informants for this

study, only two informants from Group A (the Madeirans), and five from

Group B (first generation Portuguese Creoles, with at least one Madeiran-

born parent) were involved in endogamous unions. These figures represent

33.3% for both groups. From Group A, both persons married to Portuguese

were women, one creole, one madeirense, and from Group B, four of the six

were women. In Group CA (second generation Portuguese Creoles, whose

parents are both Portuguese Creoles, whether first, second or third

generation), 20% of persons were involved in endogamous unions, and none

of Group CB (other Portuguese Creoles, with only one Portuguese Creole

parent) was involved in an endogamous union. Only one spouse of a Group

CB member was part-Portuguese. The following table summarises the

marriage patterns among the language informants for this thesis.

 Table 6
Table showing Marriage Patterns among Informants

Group Total Total Endogamous Unions Unions

number number unions with with
in persons persons of
unions of other non-Euro
Euro origin
origin or (including
Mixed Lebanese)
65
Luso-
Euro
Group A 6 6 2 2 2
Group B 19 16 6 7 3
Group CA 5 5 1 0 4
Group CB 6 5 0 4 1

Six of the informants for this thesis belong to one family (including

one informant who married into this family), that of informant B09. Two of

their grandfathers were Madeiran-born and the grandmothers were of Luso-

Guyanese and Luso-Trinidadian origin. In this family, the level of mixing

was fairly high in the first generation. In the second generation, in this

family of fourteen children, the mixing became even greater. Two remained

unmarried, only four married Luso-Trinidadians, the spouses of two were of

65
Modern marriages to other Europeans and Lebanese can be problematic because the
children of these unions often look phenotypically like Portuguese as well.
other European origin, four married persons of mixed origin, one married a

mostly Sino-Trinidadian and another married an Indo-Trinidadian. The four

who married other Luso-Trinidadians had twenty-two children among them,

and the rest had sixteen children among them. None of these thirty-eight

persons from the third generation married Portuguese or Luso-Trinidadians.

In this family, the Portuguese language was not passed on beyond the first

generation.

In one older nineteenth century Presbyterian family, the first creole

generation were all involved in endogamous unions, but only five of the

sixteen in the second generation continued the pattern of endogamy. The

rest married Euro-descendants or others. In no modern family of nineteenth

century origin has the language survived, regardless of endogamous unions.

Linguistically speaking, many of the men married within the Portuguese

community, but outside the Portuguese speech community. The families that

apparently succeeded in preserving the language were either those that

originated in the twentieth century, or who had at least one immigrant per

generation or both. In the case of one family (that of informant B06) which

originated with a late nineteenth century immigrant, an immigrant married

into every successive generation, notably a female immigrant per generation.

The language survived with input from other female relatives and servants.

The language therefore appeared to survive longer in this family than in any

other family originating in the nineteenth century. An examination of the

history of most families revealed fewer overlapping waves of migration than

for the family of informant B06, and these families also had a weaker rate of

language survival.66

In 1945, Reis analysed the make-up of the Portuguese community as

follows:

Today, their descendants are so inextricably intermingled as to defy all

efforts at creating ethnographic boundaries, excluding of course, creoles
of the first generation born here of Portuguese parents and the offspring
of these first generation creoles who marry into their own class and
group. (Associação Portugueza 130)

Descendants of the Portuguese in Trinidad no longer have options or desires

for endogamous unions based on common ancestry, for the group to which

they belong is the wider Trinidadian society.

66
See chapter 9 for a representation of the two contrasting family trees of informants
B06 and B09.
 The above sections have demonstrated an effort to analyse the

Portuguese community from a historic viewpoint. However, efforts to

provide an up-to-date and accurate demographic analysis of the modern

Portuguese community, from which informants were drawn, would prove to

be difficult, if not impossible. There are two main reasons for this: the

process of assimilation and the size of the group.

Firstly, this group is thoroughly integrated into the wider community.

As early as 1891, assimilation of the group was well under way. According

to the 1891 Census of the Colony of Trinidad and Tobago, “as with all other

sections of the immigrant population, except the East Indian, the descendants

of the natives of Portugal are gradually being absorbed in the native

population.” That census report does not specifically state what type of

assimilation was taking place, but racial, socio-cultural and linguistic

assimilation was undoubtedly implied. From 1871 to 1960, the statistical

system of Trinidad and Tobago provided data on the Portuguese as a

separate ethnic group, but it no longer does so (see page 103). In Trinidad

and Tobago, the Portuguese have been assimilated into other European

groups as well as into non-European groups. Their descendants are now

usually classified under one of three rubrics, that is, either ‘European,’

‘Mixed’ or ‘Other.’

Secondly, the group is a small percentage of the overall European

community, which itself does not amount to more than 2% of the national

population. Furthermore, it has waned in size over the years and is now very

small. Data collection on the present numbers of the Portuguese community

can only be somewhat subjective, given the problems of the variety of self-

definitions among Luso-descendants.

The Portuguese population has not experienced any significant level

of growth. By contrast, it has been steadily on the decline from the middle

of this century for three basic reasons: ethnic intermarriage or out-marriage,

mortality and migration.

Out-marriage often took place firstly among the men, if they could

not find a spouse in the Portuguese community, and for other personal

reasons. Although there was a relatively high percentage of women and

children among the immigrants, and therefore fairly strong family

preservation, fewer women than men emigrated from Madeira, as noted

earlier. As a group, however, the Portuguese began to be absorbed very

quickly by the wider society through out-marriage. The men were quicker

than the women to take spouses and/or partners of African and Indian

descent, and also persons of Chinese origin. Marriages with descendants of

other European groups and persons of mixed lineage also took place. The

women, both Madeiran-born and creole, were slower to select non-

Portuguese mates and tended generally to choose from within their own

community – where choice was possible, for arranged marriages were often

sanctioned as a means of bringing families together. In the twentieth

century, male Madeiran immigrants as well as the creole Portuguese men

were still able to find wives from within the creole Portuguese community.

However, social and marital relations with other ethnic groups had become

almost a way of life for the Portuguese in twentieth century Trinidad.

According to de Boissière, some of the men married into French creole

families to raise their social position (19). Even the Portuguese creole

women began to marry outside of the group, which as Patterson puts it, “is

the surest sign not only of the weakness of the endogamous principle, but the

demographic decline of the group” (346).

 The passing on of the majority of immigrants and first generation

creoles, many of whom actively practised various aspects of Madeiran

culture, signalled the beginning of the end for the community as a distinct

ethnolinguistic unit. Left without even a loosely knit body of elders familiar

with and having more than a passing interest in the group’s past, the

community was destined to struggle for the future life and vitality of its

culture, language and very ethnic identity.

Apart from the early migration of the Presbyterian refugees to the

United States in the late nineteenth century, there was considerable

emigration of whole families of Portuguese origin from the 1960s onwards.

Great Britain and Canada, both Commonwealth territories, were two

especially preferred destinations for Trinidadians of Portuguese descent

seeking to emigrate. Within recent times, the United States of America has

become an increasingly popular choice. The dent such emigration has made

in the Portuguese group is more obvious as the group is already very small.

Apart from family migration, many individuals left for personal reasons

which included educational and job opportunities abroad. Voluntary exile

was the case for two of the nation’s most politically and socially prominent
citizens of Portuguese parentage, namely Albert Maria Gomes and Alfred

Hubert Mendes,67 the authors of the two novels on the Portuguese

community of Trinidad.

The Portuguese community has lost its numerical vitality and its

chances for survival are few, since it is now too integrated into the wider

society and has lost all motivation to remain exclusively Portuguese. Except

for their surnames, most Luso-Trinidadians and Tobagonians are now

indistinguishable from the social subset of Euro-Trinidadians, and the mixed

creoles from the wider mixed population. Although ethnicity claims are

based on historical experience and not on present reality, there are several

families of Portuguese origin, with at least one immigrant forebear of the

early twentieth century, who have managed to preserve a few cultural

reminders, not the least of which are vestiges of the Portuguese language.

Portuguese Ethnicity in Trinidad

Trinidad Today

Between the late nineteenth century and the early twentieth century,

the Portuguese group in Trinidad and Tobago was much more tightly knit

than it is today. No concentrated, isolated enclaves of the Portuguese ever

67
See chapter 7 for a discussion of the novel Pitch Lake, by Alfred H. Mendes.
existed here at any time during their immigration history, despite

recommendations by some members of the interested public in 1846 (cf. J.

Ferreira, The Portuguese 18). By some 40 to 50 years after the first wave of

immigrants, the group comprised a variety of speakers, including bilingual

immigrants, their sometimes bilingual creole children and incoming

monolingual Portuguese immigrants. During this period, Portuguese

language learning among the creoles was facilitated by the more cohesive

nature of the community, lack of enforced education in English and exposure

to a number of monolingual immigrants outside the family.

Although the Portuguese of Trinidad and Tobago no longer form a

close-knit unit or community, they may still be characterised as an ethnic

group according to Schermerhorn’s definition. He defines an ethnic group

simply as:

a collectivity within a larger society having real or putative common

ancestry, memories of a shared historical past, and a cultural focus in
one or more symbolic elements defined as the epitome of their
peoplehood. (12, qtd. in Ciski 2)

Except perhaps for one or two surviving symbols of Portuguese ethnicity,

such “cultural focus” has greatly weakened over time. As Smolicz puts it,
“the core values of many, probably most cultures” are languages, and if

these

are lost or destroyed, the cultures become residual and intellectually

de-activated. In this way, they become reduced to mere fragments
that can then be regarded as sub-cultural variants upon the majority
culture. (“Culture, Ethnicity and Education,” qtd. in “Minority
Languages and the Core Values of Culture” 39)

In recent years, annual diplomatic and other occasional religious and cultural

reunions have helped to reassert Portuguese identity. Such social functions,

as well as common historical and ancestral ties, still bind the community

together, albeit loosely. The Portuguese language remains in limited use

among few members. Although the Portuguese of Trinidad and Tobago have

lost much of their distinctiveness as a separate ethnic component, they may

still be defined as an ethnic group submerged within the European minority

because of their shared ancestry, memories and culture.

In Trinidad and Tobago today, most Portuguese Trinidadians live in

urban and suburban areas. They are of course educated in English, and

today few outsiders to the community are aware of the existence of the

limited number of semi-speakers of Portuguese and the even fewer native

Portuguese speakers. The acquisition of Portuguese by members of the

second and third generations has been hindered because of a lack of

exposure to the language within the now widely diffuse Portuguese

community. Most of what has been achieved varies individually at differing

levels and rates due to varying degrees of experience with the language in

Trinidad. Visits to relatives in Madeira have helped some increase both their

interest and their proficiency in the language. In the majority of cases, there

was hardly, if ever, any reinforcement of the language at the level of literacy,

which could have enabled longer survival of the language.

Growing socio-economic pressures to survive, accompanied by an

increasing desire to progress socially, caused many members of the group to

feel that the language was useless and even embarrassing in comparison to

English – useless even at an in-group level since, more and more, English

became the target language of the community. Writing about the Portuguese

in 1972, Lowenthal observed that “the old stigma of alien ethnicity and of

trade still attaches to them as a stereotype” (202). Many creoles wanted to

escape this feeling of alienation by abandoning those aspects of their

ancestral culture that would pose a barrier to assimilation, which above all

else included the language. Despite tremendous pressure in the late

nineteenth and early twentieth centuries causing the Portuguese language to

lose ground, it has managed to survive, albeit in truncated fashion, and is not

yet completely erased from memory nor even from some home usage.

With a clearer understanding of the demographic make-up of the

Portuguese community, past and present, the following chapter will analyse

the rôle of the language at an intra-community level, starting with an

appreciation of the theories of speech community and social networks where

relevant to the group under study, and continuing with a look at in-group

attempts at maintenance within the structures of church, businesses and

cultural groups.
 Map 2
Map of Trinidad and Tobago
Source: Fullard (the Caribbean Region) J
 5

THE PORTUGUESE SPEECH COMMUNITY IN TRINIDAD

The preceding chapters have dealt with an analysis of the immigration history

of the community of Portuguese speakers in Trinidad and its subsequent

demographic make-up. This chapter will now turn to an analysis of the

historical Portuguese speech community, and the social networks among the

Portuguese community in Trinidad, past and present. This chapter looks at the

group’s internal social structure as it relates to the use of the Portuguese

language by community members. The loss of the Portuguese language is

paralleled almost exactly by the disintegration of the Portuguese speech

community and inner social networks. The focus is largely on the historical

community, stretching from 1846 to the 1940s. Specific social spheres in

which the ancestors of the modern ‘community’ operated will be examined. It

is the modern community that is the source of oral linguistic data for this

thesis presented in chapter 6.

With regard to the concept of “speech community,” there has been

“considerable confusion and disagreement over exactly what a speech

community is” (Hudson 24). Since Bloomfield’s initial discussion of the

concept in 1933, researchers have posited varying theories, all with different

emphases and perspectives. Some researchers such as Lyons focus mainly on

the commonality of the linguistic code spoken, while others such as

Bloomfield and Labov focus more on the sociological aspects of the theory.

Others still, such as Le Page and Tabouret-Keller, look at not only language
and community, but also individual involvement and self-definition.

Crystal’s dictionary of linguistic and phonetic terms notes that the term

speech community “refers to any regionally or socially definable group

identified by a shared linguistic system” (323). Most theories generally agree

on the need for the existence of (a) a social group, (b) institutionalised social

interaction patterns, and (c) separation or distinctness from other groups,

political, physical or otherwise.

One of the chief difficulties of defining “speech community” lies in

the difficulty of identifying and delineating the actual boundaries of such

groups. Other difficulties, as noted by Hudson, include (a) the very often

subjective perception of such groups, and (b) the lack of a unified code even

in such groups, for example, differences in the structure and usage of the

community code across generations.

Given the enormous variety of language situations around the world, a

useful definition cannot be rigid, and should be narrow enough to be

manageable and relevant, and broad enough to be useful and meaningful.

Apart from strictly linguistic issues, geographical, political, ethnic, socio-

economic and cultural factors all come into play in defining a speech

community, or a linguistic community, to use Gumperz’s term (“Types of

Linguistic Communities” 463). In one community, stable bilingualism might

be the norm, while another might be an example of complex monolingualism,

with a complex type of interaction between social rules and language use.
 For the purposes of this thesis, despite the numerous and often

nebulous overtones of “speech community” definitions, a speech community

will refer to a group or set of people whose members generally agree on the

norms and values of language choice and use, and the membership of the

group. The “norms” involve the language variety or varieties (or the linguistic

code or codes), as well as the specific shared, characteristic linguistic features

that are in actual use. The “values” held by group members are usually beliefs

concerning how, when, among and by whom the specific linguistic code or

codes are used, and attitudes both towards the language(s), and towards

its/their speakers. Such values often constitute mutual agreement, tacit or

otherwise, on the particular language variety that holds the members of

community together. For communication to take place the linguistic code

spoken must be mutually intelligible to all its speakers, even if at varying

degrees of competence. These people are often culturally affiliated, and there

is a clear connection between language use and social structure.

Gumperz defines a speech community as:

any human aggregate characterized by regular and frequent interaction

by means of a shared body of verbal signs and set off from similar
aggregates by significant differences in language usage. (“The Speech
Community” 219)

Romaine partially espouses this view of a “speech community” as “a group of

speakers … who share a set of norms and rules for the use of language(s)”

(Sociolinguistic Variation 13).

Labov, in his discussion of creole speech communities, notes that “the

term community assumes something held in common” (369). Winford agrees

with Labov’s definition of ‘speech community,’ as “the view that the

community is defined by shared linguistic knowledge and shared norms of

interpretation and evaluation” (102), but disagrees with Labov’s perspective

on the model of grammatical description that Labov proposes for speech

communities in general. Winford chooses to separate the task of defining the

boundaries of the speech community from the task of describing and defining

the boundaries of grammar, especially in light of research on complex creole

continua and multilingual situations.

The approach taken by Le Page and Tabouret-Keller makes room for

several overlapping sets of individuals with differing combinations of

language use. These scholars actually side-step the term “speech community”

and prefer to concentrate on the social or personal groups that are part of the

reality perceived and identified by the individual (discussed in Hudson 26).

Taking any of these approaches, it may be said that from the historical

point of view, a Portuguese speech community once existed in Trinidad, in

which Portuguese was both the first language and the primary language for the

majority of community members. That speech community stood out as

distinct from the host community. It was also distinct from other speech

communities such as the Spanish, French Creole, Bhojpuri and others which

once existed within the wider Creole and English-official society, and

alongside the Portuguese speech community. The Portuguese speech

community was almost certainly never penetrated by outsiders, as its members

shared a minority linguistic code completely unknown to and unlearned by

non-Portuguese. At varying stages of its life cycle, the Portuguese speech

community comprised monolingual native speakers, bilingual Portuguese-

born persons, semi-speakers, passive and near-passive bilinguals, as discussed

in chapter 2. In spite of incomplete competence in the language, the semi-

speakers and the passive and near-passive bilinguals were usually considered

to be part of the speech community, by reasons of their comprehension, full or

partial, and their blood ties to fully competent Portuguese speakers. However,

although the monolingual English speakers of Portuguese descent were

considered ethnically Portuguese and therefore part of the Portuguese group,

they could not be part of the Portuguese speech community. For these English

language monolinguals, active or passive participation in the Portuguese

speech community was impossible, except for a few learned words and

phrases held in common by many. This is clearly exemplified in the

formation of two separate social clubs, as seen below in this chapter.

Language and generational differences between bilingual and monolingual

Madeirans and monolingual creoles became crucial to the development of

separate goals and attitudes in these two groups. Bilingual creoles could

choose to belong to either group, depending on age and interests.

The modern Portuguese community, however, no longer qualifies as a

distinct speech community separate and apart from the wider society.

Descendants of Portuguese speakers now share norms and rules for language

use, not with the few remaining bilingual Madeiran immigrants, but with the

wider national speech community. The now rare semi-speaker of Portuguese

(usually the child of one or two Madeiran immigrants) whose first and

primary language is English, not Portuguese, clearly belongs to the latter

group. Such an individual participates fully in the wider speech community,

but only partially in any given group of Portuguese speakers and is generally

incapable of transmitting anything more than lexical items to successive

generations. This is very often the case for the children of immigrants, as

Labov notes in his study of the Philadelphia speech community, in which

Greeks, Italians and Puerto Ricans live, “acquire many of its features, but are

outside in the linguistic sense. Yet their children are fully representative of

the speech community” (“Is There a Creole Speech Community?” 373).

Portuguese is in fact no longer spoken by the majority of Trinidadians

of Portuguese descent, nor is it even spoken by a significant minority.

Nevertheless, the tail end of the historical Portuguese speech community

stubbornly persists, but is dying out. It is so small that the Portuguese-English

bilingual, whether creole or Madeiran-born, is now increasingly rare and is

considered almost an oddity even by the English-speaking monolingual of full

or part Portuguese descent, far more by complete outsiders to the community.

These bilingual or partly bilingual persons are those that have the ability to

communicate in Portuguese, to varying degrees, and may do so with each

other for nostalgic reasons, not out of necessity.

Despite the loss of Portuguese at both the individual and group levels,

there are still some lexical items known only to some members of the

Portuguese community. Very few are known to non-Portuguese and it is this

set or combination of lexical items that continues to remind at least some

Luso-Trinidadians of their shared past and of the former existence of a

Portuguese speech community. This list is fully presented in the following

chapter.

Labov states accurately that “the term community assumes something

held in common” (“Is There a Creole Speech Community?” 369). In the case

of the modern Portuguese community, the common and binding element is no

longer language, but ethnicity (see reference to Schermerhorn’s definition in

the preceding chapter). Some members of the community continue to

perceive themselves as distinct, solely on the basis of ancestry and blood ties,

but not on the basis of language.

It is difficult to locate a point in history when the Portuguese speech

community ceased to exist. It is possible that the speech community truly

ceased to exist as soon as the children of immigrants began to receive a formal

education in English, and to be exposed to English in other spheres (see

discussion on religion below). This therefore means that the speech

community may well have begun to disappear as early as the late nineteenth

century, and was only lent a veneer of support by successive immigrating

generations up to the 1960s. While all informants agree that the Portuguese

language is no longer valid as a means of communication among members of

the community, all agree that it was regularly in use in the past as a vibrant

means of communication, especially among their parents and grandparents.

 Eckert and McConnell-Ginet offer an interesting and viable alternative

to the traditional notion of community, or even speech community.

Perceiving a need for sociolinguistics to effectively marry the concepts of

social practice and the individual’s placement in society, they adopt Jean Lave

and Etienne Wenger’s notion of the “community of practice” which is “an

aggregate of people who come together around mutual engagement in some

common endeavor” (490). This is a useful concept since it is based on a

community “defined by social engagement,” as opposed to a community

delineated by and limited to a physical or geographical base. The definition of

a community of practice differs from that of the traditional community in that

it is defined both by the membership of a group and the common practices of

specific joint activities or endeavours of the group, including language and

culture. One of the main values of this concept is the realistic

acknowledgement that communities of practice, according to Eckert and

McConnell-Ginet,

may be large or small, intensive or diffuse; they are born and die, they
may persist through many changes of membership, and they may be
closely articulated with other communities. (490)

In this sense, the Portuguese in Trinidad may be defined as a community of

practice that was once much larger, more intensive and vibrant, but which has

changed to one that is smaller, more diffuse and dying. Membership in the

group has changed over time and continues to change, and all members of the

modern community are members of other “communities of practice.”

Although the Portuguese in Trinidad have lost hold of their ancestral

or ethnic language as one of their regular community practices, they are still

identifiable as a social grouping, albeit loosely conjoined. The community

continues to exist and function in terms of kinship ties and older social

networks to some degree. The concept of social network, clusters and sectors

are of significance to understanding language use in the community over time.

The investigation of the nature of Portuguese networks, past and present, was

indispensable for this study. It was found necessary to be at least reasonably

informed of existing social networks to locate the few remaining speakers and

semi-speakers of Portuguese who could provide linguistic data.

Social Networks

Social networks may be defined as the sum of informal, social

relationships contracted by an individual in the spheres of kinship,

neighbourhood, occupation and friendship. According to Milroy and Li, “a

social network may be seen as a boundless web of ties which reaches out

through a whole society, linking people to one another, however remotely”

(138). More narrowly and practically speaking, “the term social network

refers quite simply to the informal social relationships contracted by an

individual” (Milroy 178).

A network may either be dense and multiplex or loose and uniplex. A

multiplex relationship is a multi-stranded one, that is, an individual may be

linked to ego in a multiplicity of ways, as neighbour, godparent of a child,

customer, inter alia. A uniplex relationship, the opposite of multiplex, is one

that consists of only one link, and individuals are connected to one another in

only one relationship. A dense network indicates that not only are individuals

linked to each other in multi-faceted relationships, but that the majority of

persons in that community are known to each other. A spare or loose

network, on the other hand, denotes a lack of mutual, common relationships

among several individuals. A traditional rural society is usually dense and

multiplex, as are some types of urban communities, but many modern urban

societies are typically loose and uniplex. While a loose and multiplex

network is possible, as is a dense and uniplex one, researchers agree that

multiplexity and density are usually co-existent (Milroy and Margrain 48).

Another way of contrasting different types of social networks is seen

in Milardo’s approach, discussed in Milroy and Li (138). Two types of

networks are ‘exchange’ and ‘interactive’ which are ‘strong’ and ‘weak’

respectively. The former consists of an individual’s mutual and deep

relationships, while the latter is made up of an individual’s regular but casual

contacts. Strong, ‘exchange’ networks appear to be the basis for language

continuity in an immigrant community. Milroy and Li make the point that

closeknit social networks consisting mainly of strong ties seem to have

a particular capacity to maintain and even enforce local conventions
and norms – including linguistic. Thus network analysis offers a basis
for understanding the social mechanisms that underlie [the] process of
language maintenance, the converse of language shift. (139)

Without a cohesive inner structure of social networking, immigrant languages

have few or no support mechanisms, and face erosion and ultimately, loss by

both the individual and the shift of the community to another language.
 The Portuguese community has lost much of its former homogeneity

and compactness. Its social networks are no longer dense and multiplex, but

loose and uniplex. Up to the 1970s, however, more than one observer felt that

the existence of the two Portuguese social groups was proof that they had only

been partially assimilated into the wider society at that time:

The survival of exclusively Portuguese social clubs in Trinidad attests

not only to bonds within that community, numbering 3,400 in 1960,
but also to their incomplete integration in Creole society. (Lowenthal
202; cf. Brathwaite 73)

Nearing the dawn of the twenty-first century, however, just three decades

later, this is hardly true, and neither of the clubs referred to above function as

they did in the past. Like Brathwaite, many respondents also remember a time

when the community was dense and close-knit and when they themselves

were active participants in the shared activities of the once larger community.

They are still able to pinpoint connections among individuals and families on

the basis of similar employment, religious links (especially Catholic

godparents) and social friendships. This proved to be most helpful in finding

Portuguese speakers, whether they are at the core or at the periphery of

modern community life. Those who now have limited participation in the

modern community include those who live in homes for the elderly.

Portuguese creoles are now fully integrated into creole society, and today their

social networks are loose, with a few surviving multiplex clusters.

Milroy and Margrain note that clusters and sectors are even more

important as a “means of compelling normative consensus than overall

density” (51). A cluster is a network within a network, a community within a

community, and is defined as “a portion of a personal network where

relationships are denser internally than externally” (Milroy and Margrain 51).

This personal network is typified by an intense level of activity in social,

informal settings among few people. In the Portuguese community of the late

1990s, the social networks are on the whole fairly loose, and boundaries are

obscure, but little pockets or clusters have survived to this day.

Group solidarity and network density are important “norm-

enforcement mechanisms,” as Milroy says. These norms include language,

and as that researcher puts it,

a close-knit structure is an important mechanism of language

maintenance, in that speakers are able to form a cohesive group
capable of resisting pressure, linguistic and social, from outside the
group. (178)

In other words, a dense and multiplex network favours the maintenance and

preservation of a group’s sociolinguistic norms and values. A loose network,

on the other hand, tends to cause individuals to look outward and to gravitate

towards and adopt the norms and values of the wider society.

As Milroy and Margrain note, “geographic mobility has the capacity to

destroy the structure of long established networks” (52). Any movement away

from traditional neighbourhoods causes networks to become less dense and

less multiplex. Many of the first immigrants came in groups from the same

towns and villages in Madeira, such as Santo António, São Roque and Monte,

as shown in the preceding chapter. The process of immigration itself began

the slow unravelling of networks established in Madeira. Eventually many of

those networks left behind were completely destroyed and became unknown
to successive generations. For many immigrants, these networks became what

Milroy and Li identify as a ‘passive’ type. ‘Passive networks’ are those that

continue to exist for immigrants in their homes of origin, but are no longer

active because of the physical distance between the immigrant and his former

community (139–140).

Clearly, as Milroy puts it,

one important corollary to the link between language maintenance and

a close-knit territorially-based network structure is that linguistic
change will be associated with the break-up of such a structure. (185)

The “break-up” that began with immigration continued for a number of years

after the arrival of the first immigrants and their families, until the language

and culture of the Portuguese in Trinidad had all but disappeared. In

discussing Italian immigration to Holland, Jaspaert and Kroon concur that

language loss interpretation of variation is only possible if it coincides

with a non-linguistic social fact [which is …] the immigration process,
which caused a rupture between the immigrating group and the Italian
speech community to which they adhere. (80–81)

Emigration often begins the disintegration of old associations, and

immigration signals the creation of new networks.

Some of the immigrants knew each other in Madeira before migrating.

As shown in the preceding chapter, 54.3% of immigrants registered with the

Honorary Portuguese Consulate came from the modern municipality of

Funchal, including the town of Funchal and its immediate environs. From

Quintal’s commentary on the San Fernando Portuguese, it is clear that many

of them, of the majority of whom came from the town of São Roque, and also

from Monte, felt strong ties based on their past connections (6). Even those
who arrived with few or no social connections were automatically linked on

the basis of language and nationality. To quote Dabène and Moore, “language

plays the part of an ‘emotional cement’ in own-group recognition and the

determination of in- and out-group boundaries” (23), and was one of the key

factors in drawing new immigrants together, regardless of prior existing

bonds.

Although they had left behind their old way of life and communities,

many of the forefathers of the Portuguese community naturally attempted to

recreate new networks in their new home and preserve group cohesiveness on

arrival in Trinidad. Some of these efforts included clustering in the same

residential areas, such as Belmont and Newtown in Port-of-Spain, as noted in

the preceding chapter. (It is important to note that geographic mobility within

Trinidad was also partly responsible for the ultimate disintegration of

networks in Trinidad.) Other efforts at group cohesion included the creation

of strong business links and partnerships, the inclusion of Portuguese friends

in nuclear family settings (seen in the important socio-religious rôle of

godparents, which had social overtones as well), the birth of socio-cultural

clubs and the incorporation of new immigrants into the community.

In Trinidad, the new immigrant community was sustained not only by

attempts at cohesiveness, but through ongoing chain migration. In their

discussion of the speech of bilingual migrants, Dabène and Moore show the

importance of chain migration in the recreation of social networks in the host

society. Ongoing migration allows the community “to protect itself from out-
group values, as well as to validate in-group linguistic and behavioural

models” (22). Once an immigrant group stops being replenished by the

arrival and integration of new immigrants, it becomes increasingly difficult to

maintain their linguistic, ethnic and cultural foci and many groups begin to

look outward with the passage of time.

Frankenberg suggests that “the less the personal respect received in

small group relationships, the greater is the striving for the kind of impersonal

respect embodied in a status judgement” (232, discussed in Milroy and

Margrain 49). In other words, the inner fragmentation of a socio-

economically and politically powerless group, combined with the non-

validation or marginalisation of the group by the wider society, often leads to

a desire for upward social mobility. As Milroy and Margrain note, “when

networks become less dense, people are more anxious to achieve a higher

social status” (49). For the Portuguese of Trinidad, this is no doubt true. As

the community became more and more exposed to the social and linguistic

norms and values of the society, and as individuals became increasingly

prosperous, many felt that financial success was not enough. Increasing

financial prosperity was often accompanied by the strong desire to attain

higher social status and social ‘respectability,’ and to conform to the wider

society as much as possible.

One route towards achieving social status was through education. As

Lowenthal puts it, the route for the Portuguese of Trinidad and Guyana “was

generally similar: off the estates and into retailing, then with money acquired,
emulation of the social and educational standards of the British-based élite”

(202). For some, this included sending their children to British public

schools. This resulted in the adoption of foreign values and a shift in loyalty

away from the language and lifestyle of the Portuguese, which came to

symbolise all that was backward and unprogressive. Language was not

merely a symbol of Portuguese ethnicity which could be a negative or positive

symbol, depending on the perspective, but the reality for many was that it

became a real obstacle to their social and economic mobility.

For those who could ill afford to send their children abroad but who

were anxious to achieve social mobility for themselves and their children, the

local so-called prestigious denominational schools were the next obvious

choice. Exposure to and involvement in new social networks resulted in

either hostility or indifference to the language and culture of their ethnic

community. Instead, the creole European upper classes and their acrolectal

variety of English became the object of much envy and imitation. Milroy and

Margrain note that “several studies point out a concern with upward mobility

and adequate education of children as characteristic of working class people

whose network structures have been disrupted” (49).

There are many interpersonal variables in sociolinguistic attitudes. If a

speaker’s “personal network is relatively loose-knit, it will not constitute a

bonded group capable of enforcing a focused set of linguistic norms” (Milroy

195). It is not unusual for two individuals of the same family to become part

of different networks. If this happens, they will develop differing language

loyalties, and will therefore “make use of contrasting language norms.” The

degree of parental integration also affects the children’s degree of interaction

and assimilation. Older children often tend to follow the cultural traditions and

patterns of their parents more closely than younger siblings. If geographic or

social isolation of the family occurs, the result will most likely be limited

opportunities for the practice and perpetuation of speech acts. As Romaine

notes, if the children experience distance from their parents and from

community elders, or “discontinuity of different generations of speakers in the

community,” then acquisition of the first language of the parents will be less

than perfect (Sociolinguistic Variation 16).

Despite pressures from the outside, the group’s internal social structure

was once strong and dense enough to sustain regular use of the language both

inside and outside the home. Even in the home setting, however, parents did

not often encourage use of the language even among family members. While

creole children may not have been reprimanded for using Portuguese at home,

some remember being excluded from adult conversations and gatherings,

which is true for the French and Spanish creoles as well. Often these adult

dialogues took place in Portuguese. Some informants of endogamous unions

recall that even their mothers were excluded from the gatherings of Madeiran

men, especially if the women were born in Trinidad and were not native

Portuguese speakers. At no time did the Portuguese community ever lose its

minority status in the community. As a result, its ethnic language never

became a language of the street that could easily be picked up with or without
encouragement. It could only be learned in the home or not at all, and had

few reinforcements from the slow flow of migrants.

Outside of the home, the most important arena for language-learning,

use of the language was reinforced in the spheres of interaction of religion,

business and social clubs for several decades after the arrival of the first

immigrants. The following discussion will show to what extent the language

was actively used in these three sociolinguistic domains.68 A sociolinguistic

domain, as defined by Crystal, refers to

a group of institutionalised social situations typically constrained by a

common set of behavioural rules, e.g., the domain of the family is the
house, of religion is the church, etc. (A Dictionary of Linguistics and
Phonetics 112; cf. Fishman “Who Speaks What Language to Whom
and When”)

When social networks were strong and dense, the use of Portuguese in these

sociolinguistic domains outside the home continued to flourish. As internal

networks weakened in strength and focus, the language slipped out of use in

these spheres, leaving the home as the final domain for language sustenance.

While depleted networks were not the sole cause of language disappearance,

language use in these domains is closely related to the viability or

vulnerability of Portuguese social networks.

The Portuguese Speech Community from 1846 to the 1960s

Portuguese in Religious Circles in the Nineteenth Century

With regard to the religious scene in Trinidad in the mid- to late

68 Note that the use of the word ‘domains’ here differs from the other lexico-semantic
use of the term as will be seen in chapter 7.
nineteenth century, Gamble remarked in 1866 that

public worship is conducted in three different languages: in English by

the Protestants generally; in French by the Catholics in their
discourses; and in Portuguese by one of the Baptist missionaries, and
by the minister of the Portuguese Free Church, who, with his people,
are refugees from Madeira …. (40–41)

That writer added that “discourses in French are, I think, more frequently

delivered in Trinidad than in other Catholic countries” (43). The Catholic

Portuguese immigrants found themselves in a religious environment where

French was in regular and frequent use, usually combined with some English.

On the other hand, the Presbyterian Portuguese refugees attempted to worship

in their own language at first, and they were served by lusophone ministers

and supply ministers in the early years. Although they tried to and needed to

maintain their linguistic distinctiveness at first, it was the completely Church

of Scotland (anglophone like most other Protestant churches in Trinidad) that

welcomed and embraced the refugees on arrival and that ultimately came to

dominate the increasingly small band of refugees.

On the whole, historians have had very little to say about the rôle of

language in the Portuguese Roman Catholic community. Cothonay alone

records in detail the typically Madeiran celebration of the Catholic feast of the

Assumption, in honour of Nossa Senhora do Monte (Our Lady of the

Mountain69), the patron saint of Madeira. This feast was the rallying point for

the Portuguese Catholic community and up to the early twentieth century,

“that was the feast all Portuguese used to go to,” according to informant B09

69
Monte is also the name of the town where the church of Nossa Senhora do Monte is
located.
(qtd. in J. Ferreira, “Some Aspects of Portuguese Immigration” 31).

However, as far as is known, the Portuguese language was not used on this

public religious occasion, even where so many Portuguese were gathered. The

language of the Roman Catholic Church in Trinidad was French, and it “spoke

mainly the French language, and it projected French cultural values”

(Campbell, “Charles Warner” 57). Indeed, says Campbell, it was the “church

of the non-English people, the spiritual bulwark of the forces which made

Trinidad a non-English colony” (56). At one Portuguese celebration of the

feast of the Assumption in the early 1880s, Cothonay records that one priest

preached in French, and also in English which was the language that the then

archbishop encouraged priests to use in sermons (Cothonay 317). By 1884,

English had become “la langue que les Portugais comprennent le mieux, après

la leur, bien entendu” (Cothonay 309).70

Only thirty-eight years after the arrival of the first Catholic

immigrants, English was already their second language, much more than the

dying French and/or French Creole were. Clearly, the Catholics were very

much exposed to the outside community in which they worked and in which

they participated in the sphere of religion. Cothonay took it for granted that

this minority immigrant group ought to be bilingual and to be able to

communicate with its host society after almost four decades in Trinidad.

Cothonay considered the Presbyterian Portuguese church, a place

where meetings were conducted in their own language, a threat to the

70 “The language that the Portuguese best understand, after their own, of course.”
Catholics. The Portuguese Church “créa un véritable danger pour leurs

compatriotes catholiques” (311).71 This French priest, who preached in

English for the sake of his congregation, considered learning Portuguese,

having felt “la nécessité d’étudier leur langue, et de [m]’y mettre enfin

sérieusement” (309).72 It is not known, however, if he actually undertook to

learn Portuguese and to preach in that language. There are also no available

records of other nineteenth century Catholic priests actually learning

Portuguese for the sake of these members of the congregation, which included

speakers of other languages besides English, and no records of entire masses

said in Portuguese even during that century. There is one record of a sermon

delivered in Portuguese in the early twentieth century. It was delivered at a

high mass in 1906, and Reis noted that the sermon in English was followed by

a sermon in Portuguese: Rev. Fr. McAlinney “also delivered an eloquent

sermon along the same lines, but in Portuguese (Associação Portugueza 17,

my emphasis). This is quite unlike the case of British Guiana where

expatriate Portuguese-conversant Italian priests were sent to the much larger

Portuguese population in that territory as early as the 1880s (Menezes, The

Portuguese of Guyana 62).

Cothonay was one of the few Roman Catholic priests to voice his

recognition of the value of using Portuguese in a church setting to best

communicate religious tenets to members of that group, and generally to make

71 “Presented a real danger for their Catholic compatriots.”

72 “The need to study their language and to finally set about doing it seriously.”
the Portuguese immigrants feel at home. Yet he and other Catholic priests

never seriously needed to fear the loss of the Portuguese Catholics to the

“Portuguese Church” on the basis of language alone, especially in light of the

fact that the Latin mass was the same in Madeira as it was in Trinidad. While

there were a few early converts to Protestantism on the estates as Baillie noted

(256, 259), most other Catholic Portuguese were not interested in leaving the

Catholic church for purely linguistic reasons. In their new home, they do not

appear to have considered trading their traditional, familiar Catholic church

(albeit English- and French-speaking) for a Portuguese-speaking Protestant

church, simply to be where their native language was in public use. For some,

preservation of their religion was more important than the preservation of

their language, and their Portuguese ethnic identity was closely tied to Roman

Catholicism.

Although the Portuguese language was not used during sermons at

masses, reunions for the celebration of Nossa Senhora do Monte meant that

the language was undoubtedly in full use at an intra-group level for the

duration of the feast. When the lusophone Madeiran population was at its

numerical peak, the feast was elaborately celebrated for several years in

Trinidad. Use of the language was promoted largely at an informal level, in

the planning of the feast and in gathering to reminisce of earlier times in

Madeira. Religion, a core value of the Catholic community, was a far greater

factor for group solidarity than was language. It was important as a matter of

pride on the individual level, and also afforded respect and acceptance from
the wider community. In Trinidad, the Catholic religion was also that of the

established French creole élite and public adherence to it also became

important for acceptability outside the Portuguese community. Furthermore,

the comparatively recent Portuguese Presbyterian converts had been

ostracised by Catholics in Madeira. Many of the Portuguese Catholics in

Trinidad initially avoided dealings with the Protestants on any significant

level. Running much deeper than linguistic factors was spiritual dependence

on the Roman Catholic Church. For many, the idea of leaving behind their

traditions was simply unthinkable, and conflict was inevitable for those who

did leave that institution.

In spite of concerted initial efforts by the Portuguese Presbyterians to

avoid linguistic absorption, they were dominated by the British, since the St.

Ann’s Church of Scotland, the “Portuguese Church,” was governed by

expatriate British ministers, from 1873 up to 1989.73 In addition, the sister

assembly of Greyfriars was made up of several members from various parts of

Great Britain. As a result, the refugees appeared to lose their language at an

earlier stage than the Catholic Portuguese. Among other reasons for this was

the static nature of their community which was not renewed by incoming

Madeirans. There are also no reports of repatriados among members, nor of

members returning to visit Madeira which had practically expelled them. By

contrast, the Catholic Portuguese community continued to maintain links with

Madeira and to receive immigrants. They therefore appeared to hold on to the

73 See J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 102 for a list of the ministers of St. Ann’s Church of
Scotland.
language for many more years.

Some descriptions of the use of language in the Presbyterian

community are available, and as in other areas, the history of the Presbyterian

Portuguese is better documented than that of their Catholic counterparts, and

several commentaries on language use are available. In his record of the

Presbyterian Portuguese, Hewitson wrote that “they and their benefactors

were unacquainted with one another’s language” (report qtd. in Norton 103–

104). On arrival, “none of them understood the English language, with the

exception of a little boy” who became their interpreter (letter from Rev.

George Brodie reproduced in Missionary Record of the United Secession

Church, qtd. in ‘After Many Years’ 53). Evidently, the converts were not

exposed to English in Madeira, save this “little boy.” It is possible that he

learned some English in Madeira.

Dr. Robert Reid Kalley, the Scottish medical missionary under whose

ministry hundreds of Madeirans turned to Protestantism, arrived in Madeira in

1838.74 Shortly after his arrival, he opened a school to teach English “with the

design of acquiring the Portuguese language” (Norton 13), and he also

established several Sabbath schools or day schools established for Portuguese

children (Norton 109–110). It is assumed that instruction was in Portuguese,

since Kalley imported Portuguese Bibles that were used as an educational

tool, but English might also have been used to some extent. Although Dr.

Kalley and his assistant, Rev. W.H. Hewitson, were English-speaking Scots,

74
See chapter 3.
they were able to communicate with the Portuguese in their language in

Madeira. They also did so when they visited the refugees in Trinidad, where

Hewitson stayed for some time.

At first, the refugees kept to themselves and met regularly to share

biblical teachings and to pray. For worship and the Lord’s Supper, they met at

first in the Scots Greyfriars Church. That church “became their first centre in

Port-of-Spain and here their material and spiritual wants were attended to by

the Rev. Alexander Kennedy and a Scottish assistant of Dr. Kalley” (Wood

105). The first service that they attended at Greyfriars was entirely in English

which was completely foreign, and the second was in Portuguese (Franklin,

‘After Many Years’ 53–54). They were very much dependent on their young

interpreter. Later, “with the desire of being more independent” (Franklin, St.

Ann’s Church of Scotland Centennial Sketch 7), and of preserving their

identity as a Portuguese group within the Scottish church, they rented

premises in Port-of-Spain not far from the main church. Some later moved to

Arouca where there was another Church of Scotland (now called Barrow

Memorial), but the majority eventually left for the United States. Later the

remnant embarked on the project of building their own church in Port-of-

Spain, with the same intentions of keeping together and worshipping in a

common tongue.

The Scottish Presbyterian leaders were quick to grasp the importance

of being able to relate to the newly arrived Portuguese congregation in their

own language. Rev. W.H. Hewitson, Dr. Kalley’s co-worker and countryman,
was their first minister in Trinidad and “had laboured among them in Madeira

… he having studied the language in Lisbon before going to Madeira”

(Franklin, “Seventy-Fifth Anniversary” 10). Given their common experiences

in Madeira in matters of their faith, added to Hewitson’s facility in the

language, this was a sensible match of minister to congregation. Following

him were two Madeirans who were specifically chosen and ordained as

ministers “for the special purpose of ministering to [their] countrymen” (Earle

9). Besides these three Portuguese-speaking ministers, there were also supply

ministers, deacons and elders who were lusophone and of Madeiran birth.

After these three ministers, however, only Rev. D.M. Walker, who held office

from 1873 to 1880, endeavoured to study the Portuguese language.

By 1880, toward the end of the nineteenth century, the community was

becoming fully bilingual, and this was in some measure due to external

pressures.75 Keen to take up the challenge of relating to his new congregation,

Rev. D.M. Walker “early set about making himself proficient in the

Portuguese language” (Franklin, “Seventy-Fifth Anniversary” 11). Services

were by then bilingual and “during the years of his ministry among them the

hymns were sung in Portuguese at times and in English at other times”

(Franklin, “Seventy-Fifth Anniversary” 9). Already English was making

permanent inroads into the Portuguese Presbyterian community. This small

group was not only surrounded by an English and Creole-speaking

community, but was also faced with ministers whose mother tongue was also

75 See further discussion below.

the official language of the wider society. As part of a wider Protestant

community, the congregation continued to maintain links with Greyfriars, as

well as with other evangelical English-speaking congregations such as Baptist,

Anglican, Methodist and Wesleyan churches.

The public use of the Portuguese language in the Presbyterian church

lasted up to three decades after the arrival of the refugees. It appears that

Portuguese was still used in at least one service every Sunday up to 1873

(Wood 105), although the use of Portuguese seems to have continued after

that time, according to Cothonay, who was in Trinidad between 1882 and

1886. The congregation continued to sing hymns in Portuguese up to at least

1880, during the time of Rev. D.M. Walker (Franklin, “Seventy-Fifth

Anniversary” 9). According to Wood, “there was a stubborn reluctance on the

part of the old people to give up a tradition of devotion that was dear to them”

(105). This “tradition of devotion” was brought face to face with the

“innovation” of using English, according to another commentary. The

dominance of English was met with resistance by some of the older

Portuguese Presbyterians:

But, at length, a knowledge of English having been sufficiently

acquired by the refugees and their families, the Sabbath services came
to be solely conducted in that language. The innovation, so to say, was
not effected, as might have been expected, with the acquiescence of
all. But it was rendered almost necessary…. (Collens 91)

This change was seen as necessary, and it was brought about during the

ministry of Rev. D.M. Walker’s successor, Rev. A.M. Ramsay.

Ramsay was particularly influential in bringing about the

congregation’s complete cross-over to English. When he arrived in 1881, the

second generation of Portuguese “having been born here were all now

English-speaking as well as the older ones who survived and had acquired the

language” (Franklin, “An Eighty-Seven Year Reminiscence” 6). Ramsay

himself was instrumental in the English education of several of the young men

whom he taught how to read and write. It is also important to note that he was

a patriotic Scotsman. During his time of service, which ended in 1904,

several fellow Scots came to Trinidad. As minister of the Free Church of

Scotland he felt duty-bound “to look after [the Scots] on their arrival here,

many of whom sought membership” (Franklin, “An Eighty-Seven Year

Reminiscence” 7). With the presence of other language groups in the

congregation, including Germans and others, St. Ann’s was beginning to need

English as the common denominator (Collens 91). In such a situation,

Ramsay knew that “no other language but English would be of any use”

(Franklin, St. Ann’s Church of Scotland Centennial Sketch, 91). The

Portuguese Church began to be “a mixed congregation” and so began to lose

its Portuguese character, especially with regard to the language. Although the

church was never officially known by a Portuguese name, it was long referred

to as the “Portuguese Church.” The name changes of the church reflect its

changing make-up:

The name ‘Free Church’ (or ‘Free Kirk’) gradually superseded that of
Portuguese Church until in latter years, ‘St. Ann’s’ was adopted – the
name of the road in which the church was built, being considered a
more suitable appellation. (Franklin, “An Eighty-Seven Year
Reminiscence” 7)
It, however, continued to be known as the “Portuguese Church” for many

years after the name change, even though its congregation was no longer

exclusively Portuguese.

Some thirty to forty years later, Earle noted that “all of the members of

the congregation now of course speak English” (10, my emphasis). By the

time that Earle wrote in 1923, the congregation, with only a few Portuguese

members was well and truly mixed. It was reduced from approximately 900

to 90 Portuguese nationals in a few years, the result of factors such as out-

migration, mortality and, above all, out-marriage, as discussed in the

preceding chapter. The former practices of bilingual services were now

completely relegated to the past and “such of the old Portuguese Bibles as

remain are kept as mementoes of a half-forgotten romance” (Earle 10).

Today, not even copies of those Bibles remain in the church library. With the

regular turnover of Scottish ministers and the large influx of non-lusophone

members, the language could not survive in the church. There was also

pressure from outside the congregation, in the work place and in the schools.

By the twentieth century, the handful of Portuguese Presbyterians left were all

creole and the vast majority of them could not speak the language of their

parents and grandparents.

Portuguese in the Business Arena

Apart from the religious arena, the Portuguese also came into contact

with each other in business relationships. After the failure of the attempt to
use Portuguese labour on the estates, the new immigrants and refugees turned

to different types of self-employment, in particular shop-keeping. Although

they were eventually replaced by the Chinese, the Portuguese were among the

chief shop-keepers of Trinidad of the early twentieth century, so much so that

the stereotype of the Portuguese shop-keeper was well implanted in the minds

of many. In the words of one letter writer, “Portugué all da keep shap” (Sam

Ricketts, letter to Trinidad Sentinel, 8 April 1858; cf. Cothonay 305). Tight

business and social links were seen in the numerous business partnerships,

although there was some division between the Catholics and Presbyterians at

first.76 Businessmen often shared ownership of their shops with relatives and

other Portuguese. Such a network meant that the language was in frequent

use, especially among the men who were the breadwinners outside the home.

Most of the Portuguese who migrated to Trinidad in the 1900s to 1930s

therefore found a solid network of communication among the members of the

Portuguese community. This facilitated the new arrivals’ entry into a strange

country and many of them were met on arrival by the established shop-

keepers. With the help of a supportive, close-knit group, newcomers were

given a head start. They were buttressed financially and socially until they

could better fend for themselves in an English and patois-speaking colony. In

this setting the language continued to prosper for some time. English was a

fundamental pre-requisite for daily access to the wider society, as well as for

the desired upward mobility in certain circles. Patterson’s discussion of the

76 The Presbyterians were probably among the pioneers in the business arena (cf. J.
Ferreira, The Portuguese 69).
Chinese in Jamaica also applies to the Portuguese in Trinidad:

During the early period when businesses were on a small scale, being
culturally [Chinese] and completely illiterate in the language of the
host culture was no disadvantage. A larger business enterprise
requires social skills in the host society. (331)

Without a grasp of the social skills recognised in the host culture, of which

language is the foremost, immigrants are usually forced to begin at the

bottom, and to accept the most humble positions of employment. For the

earliest male immigrants, this meant jobs on the estates and for the later

migrants, jobs as rum shop clerks. The immigrants were prepared to work for

very little, having left their home with the hope of becoming financially

independent. As Patterson says, illiteracy in English was “no disadvantage”

during the early period when businesses were small and business networks

were dense.

In the 1930s and 1940s, Portuguese business networks were from all

accounts quite dense. Informant B16 recalls that every Thursday was called

“Portuguese Day” because of the weekly reunion of Portuguese businessmen

from all over the island. Since shop-keepers had half of Thursday off, many

would come into Port-of-Spain to stock up on goods and supplies (cf.

discussion in J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 42). This was the weekly cementing

of social and business ties, and it is understood that the Portuguese language

was in regular use at such times of vigorous trading among compatriots and

the Portuguese creoles who could speak the language.

By the twentieth century, the era of pioneering was largely over, and

the business scene then was very different from that of the post-emancipation
period. Usually the men and boys started as employees of other Portuguese,

earlier immigrants who had established themselves in the commercial sector.

It was impossible for monolingual Portuguese to find employment in the large

non-Portuguese enterprises that had been established for some time. Very

often, their compatriots gave them temporary lodging and employment as

clerks in the rum shops and adjacent groceries and/or dry goods stores,

generally referred to simply as ‘shops.’ Older businessmen also helped the

newcomers to establish their own businesses through loans, property rental,

and supplies from wholesale shops. Since the owners of the rum shops were

themselves speakers of Portuguese, fluency and literacy in English were not

required for assisting the owner at the back of the shop, or even selling over a

counter. Many clerks soon overcame this temporary hurdle, because some

command of English was useful, and indeed increasingly necessary in shops

and rum shops.

Depending on their clientele, some immigrants also learned some

French-lexicon Creole or ‘patois,’ and Bhojpuri or ‘Hindi,’ even some

Chinese, according to informant B10. Having voluntarily left their homeland

to seek their fortunes in an English-official environment, their motivation to

acquire English as a second language was therefore extremely high, a crucial

factor in L2 acquisition. Most of them did not arrive in Trinidad with the

mindset to preserve their mother tongue at all costs. One informant, B09,

recalls that her Madeiran father began as a clerk in a rum shop. He later

became the proprietor of a few small businesses, including rum shops and
groceries. He had to learn either the national standard or TEC as well as the

lingua franca, TFC, to communicate with his customers. She gave an account

of her father’s early language experiences in Trinidad:

He couldn’t get employment here, I mean, in stores or anything like

that because he wasn’t educated in English. So he took night lessons.
And most Portuguese, when they came from Madeira, all they could
do was sell in a rum shop or grocery. And even then you had to learn
English. (qtd. in J. Ferreira, “Some Aspects of Portuguese
Immigration” 45)

With their new linguistic skills, accompanied by business experience gained

or reinforced, many went on to become owners of their own businesses, both

large and small. Economic survival and success were the main driving forces

in their lives, and without English, Portuguese newcomers would remain long

at the mercy of the host society, dependent on the wealthier Portuguese and

unable to forge ahead independently.

At the official business level, some informants report that the

Portuguese language was frequently used in business correspondence and

overseas trade with Portuguese in Portugal, Brazil and neighbouring

Venezuela up to the 1950s. Only one small written example of use of the

Portuguese language in business has so far been seen. The cable address of

Camacho Brothers Ltd. was “IRMÃO,” Portuguese for ‘brother.’ The records

of this business, started in 1931 by two Madeiran brothers, and others, are not

available for examination, and it is not known to what extent the Portuguese

language was used in correspondence in this business and others.

The overwhelming majority of Portuguese business concerns bore

English names, and even Spanish names in a few cases. Some of these
included El Dorado and Casablanca, well known names in English, as well as

El Gallo, La India, La Tentación, and El Chico, a business concern of the

latter part of this century. Apparently the Spanish articles, ‘el’ and ‘la’ were

more widely known in Trinidad than the Portuguese ‘o’ and ‘a,’ partly

because of the fact that Spanish was used in the media, and was later taught in

schools. The only names that gave some indication of the owner’s nationality

were those that bore the names of their owners, including Abreu e Camacho

(manufacturers’ representatives), which used the Portuguese ‘e’ for ‘and.’

Others include the Vasco da Gama Bar and Casa Bernardo (a recent retail

clothing outlet, whose name could also be Spanish), neither of which is still in

business. These are the only examples so far unearthed of the use of

Portuguese names in Portuguese-owned businesses.77

The earliest immigrants who paved the way for their countrymen faced

very different circumstances. Certainly they were not afforded the cushioning

provided by a Portuguese-speaking community and their acquisition of

English took place more brutally. The men, who were the breadwinners of the

home, were generally the first to learn English. The mostly home-based

women learned English mainly from their husbands, servants and creole

children, while others who were domestic servants picked up English on the

job. In all probability, Trinidadian English Creole was learned before

Trinidadian Standard English, that is, if the latter was ever learned by

immigrants at all, many of whom were unschooled in both Portuguese and in

77 Até Logo, a shoe store, was given its name because of that business’s Brazilian
imports, not because of any affiliation to Portugal.
English.

While some knowledge of TFC and Bhojpuri was good for customer

relationships and therefore good business, English was the language of

prestige and upward social mobility. The Portuguese businessmen who

recognised this made the necessary effort to learn English, but most of them

never fully abandoned their mother tongue at the intra-group and family

levels. Their children, however, created the opposite picture: as products of

Trinidad, they knew little of their parents’ history and culture and so had little

attachment to their ancestral tongue. The more successful families became,

the more quickly successive generations abandoned the Portuguese language

in their climb upward. Equipped with their new linguistic abilities, many

twentieth century immigrants went on to become owners of other businesses,

increasingly removed from the life of the rum shop and grocery. So the

minority Portuguese language began to lose its footing in its community. This

happened mainly because of the immigrants’ need to survive financially,

because of their drive towards prosperity and because of the desire of the

creoles to dissociate themselves from the growing stigma of the rum shop.

Interestingly, it was a group of Portuguese shop clerks and owners that met to

form the Portuguese-speaking Association that came to hold the rôle of

guardian of the Portuguese language in Trinidad. Apart from the home, the

Portuguese language was mainly confined to the Presbyterian Church, the

shops and later the Association, as we will see.

 The Two Portuguese Social Clubs

Outside of the religious, business and home circles, the Portuguese

language enjoyed varying degrees of strength and popularity well into the

twentieth century. Of the two social groups formed by the Portuguese, the

Portuguese Association, or the Associação Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro

was responsible for several attempts to maintain the vitality of the Portuguese

language among its members and the Portuguese community in general, while

the Portuguese Club was more oriented towards sports and socialising.

Before either of the two clubs was formed, the Lusitania Band was in

existence from 1899 to 1902, but little is known about this group, except for

references to it in the Trinidad and Tobago Year Book. Reis’ mention of a

Portuguese brass band up to 1901 could well refer to the same Lusitania Band,

but it is not certain (A Brief History 11). In 1905, almost six decades after the

arrival of the first Madeirans, a Portuguese drama group called the “Grupo

Dramático Portuguêz Primeiro de Dezembro”78 was founded by Portuguese

clerks, and this was the predecessor of the Association. The Group was not

registered under its original name, but under the English name of “Portuguese

Dramatic Association First of December” under the Friendly Societies

Ordinance. Later on, since “there was nothing to prevent the registering of the

name in Portuguese,” the name was re-translated and changed in 1910 to

Associação Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro, the name by which it is known

78 It is worth noting that few descendants of the Portuguese in Trinidad today know that
Lusitania is an ancient name for Portugal, and few know why the Grupo was named the “First
of December,” a crucial date in Portugal’s history that is often referred to as the Restoration of
Portugal after years of Spanish domination (cf. Charles Reis, Associação Portugueza 123).
up to the present (Reis, Associação Portugueza 196).

The Grupo was originally formed for the purpose of “material and

intellectual benefits” (13). Other goals included sick-relief and funeral

benefits and pensions. It was formed by Portuguese exclusively for the

Portuguese, but as Reis noted, “service to fellow Portuguese is no feeling of

hostility to any other peoples” (Associação Portugueza 307). The Group,

later the Association, had no desire to be seen as separatist, even while

functioning primarily for the benefit of its own. It was also felt that desire for

social “prestige was an element in the formation of the Grupo” (Reis,

Associação Portugueza 185), since the Portuguese were originally welcomed

only as “migrant proletariat” with low social status and little chance of social

mobility (Harney 123). Although not a specifically articulated objective, the

Association succeeded in bringing together Madeiran nationals in Trinidad, as

well as in uniting Madeirans and creoles of Portuguese descent, or as Reis

says, “uniting parent and progeny … and “boss” and clerk”” (Associação

Portugueza 307–308).

The primary vision of the Association did not include preservation and

maintenance of Portuguese language and culture, or even transmission of

these to non-lusophone creole Portuguese members. It went through various

stages, and its goals changed to meet the needs and demands of its members.

In spite of the lack of clear-cut goals in the early days of its existence, the

Association did much to sustain and encourage Portuguese culture, music and

language within the community, and promoted leisurely sporting activities

among the men. It also managed to foster in its members a strong sense of

patriotism towards Portugal and things Portuguese.

With the aim of raising funds to assist needy Portuguese in the

community, the Grupo Dramático Portuguêz hosted concerts in the founding

year of its existence. At these concerts, several Portuguese plays were

performed for the Portuguese public, and the members of the Grupo drew on

their own cultural and linguistic resources. Examples of these plays, which

were written in Portuguese and acted between 1905 and 1917, were Por um

Triz (“By a Hair’s Breadth”) in 1905, Um Sujeito Apressado (“A Hasty

Fellow”) in 1906, O Criado Distrahido (“The Absent-Minded Servant”) in

1909, Morte do General Mavano (“Death of General Mavano”) in 1910, and a

drama, Amor e Pátria (“Love and Country”) in 1917. The latter was

performed in Portuguese, and immediately after in English (Reis, Associação

Portugueza 162). The plays were usually preceded by songs and speeches in

Portuguese, and sometimes accompanied by other plays in English. Among

the various concerts that were later held, one was a recital of Portuguese folk

songs by a Portuguese tenor, Lomelino Silva in January of 1938. The songs

were “enthusiastically received” by a varied audience at the Empire Theatre in

Port-of-Spain (Trinidad and Tobago Year Book 1939).

The Portuguese language was used during special lectures delivered

both by locally-based and foreign Portuguese nationals (Reis, Associação

Portugueza 71). Usually the speakers were drawn from the same pool, since

there were very few lusophone orators in the Association’s membership. The
English language was also used for lectures hosted by the Association.

Debates were popular as well, and of three motions held by the debating

section of the Association, the first two were in English and only the third was

in Portuguese. Evidently the Association felt it had to cater to all present,

since the Madeirans were usually bilingual and it appears that the creoles were

largely monolingual in English.

The Association subscribed to Portuguese newspapers, and also made

its own attempts at publishing. Two short-lived magazines Club Life and A

Pátria appeared in 1927 and 1928 respectively, with articles in both English

and Portuguese. Sometimes notices of Association meetings appeared in

Portuguese in the local newspapers which usually published only in English,

French and Spanish:

In the public papers French and Spanish correspondence is to be

found; but for some years past the papers have ceased to appear, their
articles printed in English and French on opposite pages, as once they
did. (Gamble 40)

Articles or correspondence were rarely published in Portuguese, however,

since the Portuguese-reading public was far too small. In 1886, however, the

Public Opinion published a poem in Portuguese, quoted by Fortuné without

diacritics, and without a translation into English (18). This poem was

dedicated to the Portuguese Princess Aldegonda of the royal House of

Bragança who paid a visit to Trinidad in 1886 with her French husband, the

Count of Bardi, Prince Henri de Bourbon. During their visit, she laid the

corner stone of the Laventille church, after which a Mr. Romero read the

following poem in Portuguese from the Trinidadian Portuguese community, to

which the Princess replied in Portuguese:

A – lteza; a vossos pés viemos todos

L – ançar nossos pleitos e oblações
D – ignai-vos acolher com bondade
E – stas provas de sinceros corações
G – ravai em vosso peito o dia de hoje
O – qual nos jamais olvidaremos
N – ada mas desejamos; e satesfeitos (sic)
D – a acolha que tiveram nossos peitos
A – Deus por vos lhe rogaremos79

On 25 November 1927, a letter in Portuguese by Eduardo Sá Gomes appeared

in the Port-of-Spain Gazette. It was a translation of a letter that had appeared

the day before in the same newspaper, and was written in response to an

article by Reis that had been published in Club Life.80 Letter-writing was the

only use made of the local mass medium of print. The Portuguese community

never used the electronic medium of radio as “a linguistic and cultural

maintenance tool” as do the Portuguese in northern California (Renz 23).

Radio, in fact, only came to Trinidad in 1934–1935,81 and by that time the

numbers and strength of the Portuguese community were already on the

decline.

79 “Your Highness, to your feet we all come

To offer our prayers and oblations;
Be honoured by graciously accepting
These proofs of sincere hearts;
Engrave on your heart this day today
Which we will never forget
And beyond which we desire no more; satisfied
With the acceptance which we have in our hearts (?)
To God we will pray for you.”

80 See appendix G for a reprint of the letter, and chapter 6 for a brief discussion of it.

81 Interestingly, the pioneer of local radio broadcasting was Diego D. Serrao (Anthony
198–201). Serrao was a Luso-Guyanese married to a Luso-Trinidadian who was a first cousin
of Alfred Hubert Mendes, the novelist.
 In the local courts, several languages were used, including Portuguese.

Gamble gives the reason for this: “in such a Babel-like country interpreters are

needed. There are many of them, and much employment is found them in the

courts of law, and in business transactions” (40). Among the Portuguese

interpreters provided for the law courts was a Portuguese Presbyterian,

Solomon dos Santos, who acted as interpreter in 1902, and from 1906 until his

death in 1918 (Trinidad and Tobago Yearbook 1919). It is interesting to note

that his son, Sir Errol dos Santos (1890–1992), could not speak Portuguese, as

recorded by Reis (Associação Portugueza 182), and confirmed by his widow,

Lady Enid dos Santos (personal communication, letter to the author, 22 June

1992).

The Portuguese language was also used for official purposes within the

community, mostly for notices and minutes of the Associação Portuguesa. In

1910, a committee revised the rules of the Association which were “translated

into English for the first time. Both the Portuguese and English versions were

printed together in one book” (Reis, Associação Portugueza 28). The English

translation of the rules, however, veered away from the Portuguese in some

instances, and they were not exactly the same. In 1912, when a notice

appeared on the Association’s notice board in English, a Madeiran-born

member and officer of the Association was so outraged on seeing it that he

promptly tore it down. Although that member was fined, apparently “the

consensus of opinion was that it was wrong to have written the notice in

English only. This gave birth to the idea of notices appearing in both
languages” (Reis, Associação Portugueza 33). This compromise in fact

signalled the beginning of the decline of the Portuguese language even within

the Association.

For some time, Madeiran-born members were preferred for the

presidency of the Association where and when a choice was possible. Many

were recent immigrants who belonged to the shop-keepers’ class. Up to 1926,

Reis noted that

out of 147 members who have been elected on the Directorate to date,
128 have been from abroad and 19 only have been creole born. The
Madeirans are very conservative and are very jealous to guard the
Portuguese character of the Association. (A Brief History 90)

With Madeiran-born members at the helm of the Association and strong in

numbers, the Portuguese language was regularly in use at official meetings

and also in group activities, such as billiards and bisca, a frequently played

Portuguese card game.

Among the many concerts hosted by the Association, informant B09

recalls her participation as a young child in a children’s choir:

When we were in school, they wanted to get some children of

Portuguese parentage to learn the Portuguese national anthem. They
got a few children together and some Portuguese ladies taught us the
words. All of the men started to sing the chorus “Às armas, às armas
…” when it was finished. You should have heard the whole hall with
all of the Portuguese men at the top of their voice. Then my godfather
came and lifted me up from the stage. He was so glad to know that I
was able to sing it in Portuguese. (qtd. in J. Ferreira, “Some Aspects
of Portuguese Immigration” 25)

Other informants recall the numerous concerts hosted by the Association, as

well as A Portuguesa, the Portuguese national anthem, and other songs. The

anthem, first played at the Association in 1917 after Portugal had become a
republic in 1910, appears to be the song most well known by the descendants

of immigrants who were in Trinidad by the turn of the century and after.

The Association provided a social outlet for harassed Portuguese-

speaking breadwinners who finally had a meeting place where they could

naturally and freely express themselves in the language they knew best.

Away from the pressures of a foreign society, the language was given free rein

in the open atmosphere of the Association. Reis noted that

Gradually, however, the English language has forced itself to the front
as the activities of the creole born members have become evident. For
a number of years the programmes at concerts was written only in
Portuguese. But the minutes are still kept in that language, with the
exception of about a dozen minutes which were written up in English
between 1921 and 1923. (A Brief History 77)

He attributes the demise of the language mainly to the growing influence of

the increasing number of English-speaking Creoles. He notes too that the

language still maintained some of its former status at least at the official

written level. According to that author,

The use of the Portuguese language and the holding of functions at the
Association in celebration of “October 5th” and “December 1st” are in
themselves examples of the way in which the symbols of Portuguese
nationality have survived in spite of life in a British colony.
(Associação Portugueza 132)

The Association certainly did its limited best to promote various aspects of

Portuguese culture, not the least of which was the language. Despite these

valiant efforts, the language diminished in popularity because of fierce

competition and pressure from external forces.

The Associação Portuguesa was formed fifty-nine years after the

arrival of the first Madeirans, a period during which many Portuguese creoles
were born. At first, there were relatively few creole members in the

Association, and not every Madeiran in Trinidad automatically sought

membership in the Association. It took a “national event,” the visit of the

Portuguese cruiser Dom Carlos I in 1910, to publicly unite the widely

dispersed Madeirans, while an international event, World War I, united

Madeirans and creoles. During the visit of the Dom Carlos I, the maxim “a

união faz a força” (written “a uniao fas a forca” without the diacritics,

meaning “in unity there is strength”) was emphasised in speeches at public

functions. This visit brought together Madeirans based all over Trinidad,

many of whom had never before sought membership in the Association. The

result was that “the Portuguese from Madeira now became a clan” (Reis,

Associação Portugueza 222). Many creoles also decided to become members

of the Association after the visit of the Portuguese cruiser. A concert held in

aid of the Portuguese Red Cross in 1918 during World War I was another

factor in uniting the creoles and Madeirans, “but had there been no war, they

would not have worked together and learnt to know each other” (223).

For at least one member of the Association, the land and building

belonging to the Association became “este terreno, um pedaço da minha

pátria”82 (Reis, Associação Portugueza 277). In its heyday, signs and banners

in Portuguese were present for most of its concerts, and one in particular,

“Glória dos Lusitanos,”83 showed the level of Portuguese pride and patriotism.

82 “This land, a piece of my country.”

83 “Glory of the Lusitanians.”

For the creoles, however, the Association was in many ways quite foreign.

One of the reasons for the separation of the Madeirans and the creoles was

actually the language and culture barrier between the two groups. Here it is

worth quoting Reis at length in his analysis of the reasons for this separation:

The average creole of Portuguese descent did not readily conceive the
idea of applying for membership of a club that to him appeared to be
exclusively intended for a particular sect of the Portuguese community
in Trinidad. The very name “Associação Portuguesa 1° de Dezembro”
indicated this to him. The exclusive use of the Portuguese language at
stage presentations, to which he attended but did not understand, and
on the printed programmes and by speakers at these functions,
encouraged him further in this belief. As a result, he was content to
meet his forebears at such unions, but never a thought of a formal
alliance by becoming a member of the club. (222)

As Reis’ analysis shows, the pre-eminence of the Portuguese language was a

great deterrent for many creoles who simply did not speak and could not

understand the language. No measures were in place to encourage the creoles

to learn the language and to feel at ease where and when it was spoken. As

Reis, himself a creole, notes, “few creoles born of the second generation can

either read or write the Portuguese language, which to them is an alien

tongue” (132). Reis himself was evidently both a speaker and a reader of

Portuguese, but unfortunately that author gives no indication of his own

language learning background and experiences.

Reis critically describes the rôle of Association as one of an arbitrary

“drift,” rather than one of steady, deliberate “progress,” towards

representation of the Trinidadian Portuguese community. That author sees

this evolution from a small club to the mouthpiece of a community as purely

happenstance,

Because the development of the Association has not been along the
lines of any preconceived design. Because this development has had
to be aided along the path it has traced in history by circumstances
extrinsic to its origin. Because the Association has never had
leadership with vision. (Associação Portugueza 219)

The goals of the Association were revised and redefined several times. Apart

from those objectives referred to earlier, the Association also hoped to

develop a library and schools, but except for the development of a small

library only by 1933 (Associação Portugueza 91–92), the hopes for schools

were not translated into concrete action.84 The establishment of schools

would no doubt have helped to reinforce Portuguese language and culture in

the community, ultimately strengthening the position of the Association

within its own community, as well as that of the community within the wider

society. Without clear vision, as Reis noted, the Association’s success and

longevity as a truly Portuguese entity was largely left up to chance.

The growing divide between the Madeiran group and the creole group

(which included both Presbyterians and Catholics, though far more of the

latter85) had its origins long before the formation of the Association, and

finally brought about a split in the Associação between the two groups in

1927. This split “emphasized that in tastes and ideas, interests and ambitions,

84 Unlike the Trinidad Portuguese, the Guyana Portuguese established Portuguese-

language schools in the 1880s (Menezes, The Portuguese of Guyana 62–63).

85 That the Catholics far outnumbered the Presbyterians in the Association is a

reflection of the fact that the Association was founded in the early twentieth century, and was
there to welcome new immigrants of that era. It was therefore affected by differences in
migration patterns between this century and the preceding one, since Portuguese Presbyterian
migration did not go past the mid-nineteenth century.
standards and education, the creole is different to the dominant race group”

(Associação Portugueza 302). The fundamental difference between the

madeirense father and the creole son, though intimately bound by blood ties,

was language. The result was the founding of the Portuguese Club by

English-speaking Portuguese creoles.

Reis pointed out that growing differences between the Portuguese

immigrants and their descendants “had always existed, and always must exist:

for it has its origin in diversities of language, of education, and of history”

(226). The importance of educational differences was emphasised several

times by that writer: “the education of the creole, away from the pátria of his

forefathers leaves him with little knowledge of, and little disposed to study the

history of Portugal” (131), and indeed the language of Portugal. Had the

Association been founded earlier in the history of the Portuguese community,

more might have been done to formally promote Portuguese language and

culture among the first creole generations. However, the socio-economic

conditions and circumstances faced by the nineteenth century Portuguese did

not favour the development of such an association. As it was, it was formed

too late for this to happen, and the growing number of creoles far outweighed

the decreasing number of immigrants in the early twentieth century.

The membership of Portuguese Club, on the other hand, was made up

mostly of first and second generation creole Portuguese who considered the

Madeirans old-fashioned, and felt that their club was “more modern and more

social,” according to informant B14, or more sociable or convivial. Some

who belonged to the shop-keepers’ class felt that this new club was for the

local Portuguese “big shots.” The character of the Club, including the type of

sports played and the type of activities hosted, was almost totally creole, yet

its name was “the Portuguese Club.” Evidently not all of the members saw the

Portuguese language as crucial to their ethnic identity. They came together on

the basis of a common past, and also as a result of rejection by other Euro-

creole clubs. Although a suggestion was made by the then Consul of Portugal

for the establishment of a Portuguese school by members of the Club, the

suggestion was never followed through (J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 91). It is

doubtful that the language was ever in popular use among members of the

Portuguese Club, least of all in any official capacity.

Before the 1927 split, there was already growing antagonism between

the Madeirans and creoles, to the extent that some Madeirans in the

Association united against the creole membership. The creoles perceived that

there was a conspiracy against them to keep them out of the leadership, and

there were “circulars secretly printed and distributed among the Madeirans all

over the Island,” none of which has yet come to light (Reis, Associação

Portugueza 251). The composition of the membership and the leadership was

reflected in General Assembly debates. In 1912, only one committee member

spoke in English. By 1927, only one spoke in Portuguese once, whereupon a

translation was requested by an anglophone member. For the duration of that

1927 meeting, all other members spoke in English. After the split, however,

the Association redoubled its efforts to remain identifiably Portuguese,

especially in its use of the language:

The Portuguese language once again came into its own at functions;
but, strange as it may seem, the annual reports of the directorates were
– as they have been since 1921 – continued to be published in the
English language. (Reis, Associação Portugueza 267)

This emphasis only served to continue to exclude and alienate the English-

speaking creoles who now had their new club to focus on and develop.

Reis wrote his brief history of the Association in English in 1926 and a

fuller one in 1945. He was a member of the Association before the split of

1927, after which he was one of the founder-members of the Portuguese Club.

He knew that by that time most of the membership of both groups were not

speakers of Portuguese, yet he did not consistently translate Portuguese words

and phrases for his anglophone readers, including a two-page letter

(Associação Portugueza 149–150). His often parenthetical references to the

Portuguese language are a clear indication of the place it had come to hold in

its community. Very often he points out which sermons, speeches and debates

were in Portuguese and which were in English, which presupposes that the

Portuguese language was no longer native to the community.

Although Reis saw the Association’s self-identity as ill-defined, it is

interesting that of the two clubs, this is the one that has remained the stronger

of the two today. The nature of its Board is now totally creole, and has been

so since the late 1940s. While it has suffered the loss of its language, several

of its members are still somewhat interested in Portugal and things

Portuguese. It is now mainly a charitable organisation for the benefit of its

members, and continues to exist because of its members’ loyalty to the past
and to their fathers and grandfathers. As for the Club, although its minutes

and records are still extant, it is almost entirely devoted to sporting and social

activities, as it was from its inception, and Portuguese language and culture

have never played an important rôle in the Club’s development.

Despite all efforts, great and small, to promote the language, the
adequate infrastructure was not in place. The Portuguese church,
the clubs and Portuguese businesses could not prevent the ultimate
infiltration of the English language. In the modern era, survival
might have been possible, given the wave of ethnic awareness now
sweeping many plural societies founded by immigrants of various
origins. In a discussion of the “rise and fall” of Trinidad Bhojpuri,
Mohan concludes that the survival of a minority language depends
on the survival of the group as a separate entity. As that scholar
puts it,
… the healthy survival of TBh would inevitably have meant the
survival of an Indian community in Trinidad … as a world unto itself,
operating on its own linguistic currency, a community dismissing (or
preying on, or temporary in) the rest of its surroundings. This is the
minimum price of having a minority language survive. (“The Rise and
Fall of Trinidad Bhojpuri” 29–30)

In the same way, Portuguese language maintenance would have meant a far

higher degree of group and individual isolation and separation from the wider

community. Given the limited inner resources and general powerlessness of

the group, such isolation was not possible for day to day and individual

survival. Since many had left Madeira in order to survive and progress in life,

there could be no thought of separation from the very host society that offered

new opportunities. There was no other choice for the Portuguese than to

become members of a new speech community, and to raise their children as

full members of the national society. Although some of the early immigrants
continued to maintain loyalty to and contacts with Portugal and Madeira, this

love for Lusitania was not passed on to successive generations who held

British citizenship before 1962, and later citizenship of Trinidad and Tobago.

It was therefore the English language that was the first language acquired by

most Portuguese creoles, leaving only remnants of the Portuguese language.

The following chapters will go on to present and analyse these remnants, and

the reasons for both the retention and reduction of these specific remnants.
 6

PRESENTATION OF THE DATA

The data presented here are drawn from twentieth century oral and written

sources. The oral data were drawn from Portuguese creole informants in

Trinidad, and represent surviving remnants of the language of their forebears.

The written data were gleaned from texts and include Portuguese words in

English texts, as well as the Portuguese influenced English of Madeiran

immigrants as recorded in three pieces of creative writing.

The corpus of oral data may be sub-divided into two categories. The

first is purely oral data, and the second comprises the surnames and some

names of Portuguese and their descendants in Trinidad. The first sub-set was

elicited from three groups of informants discussed in chapter 1. Groups B and

C, members of the first and second creole generations respectively, or

Trinidadian-born children and grandchildren of living and deceased

Madeirans, provided the actual language data. Group A, Madeiran-born

immigrants of the 1930s to 1950s, provided the glosses, and the

pronunciations used here as the basis for the phonemic transcriptions of the

data and as a starting point for tracing language shift in process. Although a

fourth category was also possible, namely that of non-Portuguese spouses of

immigrants (since some members of this group may have learned some

Portuguese from their spouses), this group was not taken into consideration

here. The focus of this study is the process of language death extending over

three or more generations, and it is primarily the study of language shift

within the confines of an ethnic group.

Because of the advanced state of attrition of the Madeiran Portuguese

dialect in Trinidad and Tobago, a relatively small data sample was collected.

As discussed in chapter 1, negative language attitudes created unfavourable

conditions for language data collection, since linguistic insecurity or lack of a

long-standing relationship with the interviewer led to a reluctance to divulge

information. This fact, added to that of the reality of few extant data, help to

account for the comparatively limited range of data available for presentation

and analysis.

The surnames are included in the oral data primarily because they are

in current use and provide clues to language change at the level of phonology.

In addition to this, it is a fact that the majority of Portuguese immigrants in

Trinidad kept their original surnames, and passed on these names to their

descendants without changing them to English forms or modifying the

original spelling. Other conventions changed, such as the use of particles and

use of the surnames of both parents. The surnames are listed separately from

the other oral data because their current existence and usage are indebted to

the power and reinforcement of the written word. These surnames therefore

owe their survival to a combination of ongoing oral usage and written

traditions. A few first names are also included since they provide similar

clues to language change and attrition.

In terms of the written data, there is nothing available from the

nineteenth century. Nineteenth century writers like Baillie, Blackburn, and

Norton used some Portuguese in their discussion of the flight of the

Presbyterians from Madeira, such as the words of hymns, quotations, and a

few other words and phrases. While these documents give general insight into

language use among members of the group, these observations are restricted

to Madeira and the United States. There is little that is specific to Trinidad

since none of those writers spent time here.

Although some families, members of groups A, B and C, have

preserved letters and postcards in both Portuguese and English from Madeira,

as well as photographs with inscriptions in Portuguese, these are from

Madeirans outside of Trinidad, and not from Portuguese creoles or locally-

based Madeirans. These pieces of writing therefore cannot help in an

examination of language shift, and furthermore, most were not available for

perusal. As noted earlier, other possible sources for written data were records

from the Associação Portuguesa86 and Portuguese-owned businesses, but

these proved to be either inaccessible or non-existent.

There are two extant pieces of writing by Madeirans in Trinidad. One

is by Eduardo Sá Gomes, a letter to the editor in English, later translated into

Portuguese, both of which were published by the Trinidad Guardian.87 In Sá

Gomes’ Portuguese letter, most diacritics were omitted, either because local

printing presses were not adequately equipped with the necessary fonts for

Romance languages or because the typesetters were unfamiliar with the

86
As noted in chapter 1, many of the Portuguese Association’s old records up to 1935
were destroyed. Informants claim that other records from that year up to 1968 were either
destroyed or went astray, due to some problems in the leadership ranks.
87
See appendix G.
Portuguese language, or both. Apart from the typographical errors, this letter

is written in standard Portuguese. The other is an unpublished booklet of old

Madeiran love songs compiled by Maria Mónica Reis Pestana, which was

released for private viewing but not for public commentary.

In terms of the twentieth century written data examined here,

Portuguese used in English texts, the first type, is largely restricted to the

writings of the barrister Charles Reis (see page 218 below). Since Reis was a

mother-tongue anglophone creole Portuguese, his use of Portuguese is of

interest, since it shows his command and understanding of that language

probably learned in Trinidad. The words and phrases used are all standard

Portuguese, and the analysis is restricted to the second type of written data,

that found in three pieces of creative writing: a skit, a calypso and a novel.

Oral Data

The following is a presentation of the oral Portuguese language data,

as gathered from informants during fieldwork sessions. The list is presented

in alphabetical order, using modern standard Portuguese orthography. For

each piece of data a gloss in English is provided. Several nouns were given in

the plural, and these appear in the list in their plural forms. Most compound

nouns or phrases were analysed by informants themselves, and glosses were

given for the individual lexemes or parts of the compound, as well as for the

compound itself. Where informants were able to break down compounds,

both the compound and the individual parts appear as separate entries in the

list. Nouns were given by the informants without the definite articles ‘o’/‘os’
and ‘a’/‘as,’ and they appear in the list as recorded. Articles were present in a

few fossilised sentences which are included in the list (for example, numbers

82 to 84 and 157). Most informants were not aware of the definite or

indefinite articles in Portuguese.

The following phonemic88 representation of the data below are

based on the phonetic pronunciations of the Madeiran informants. The

phonemic transcriptions here are based on the phonemic analysis of the

phonetic data, presented in chapter 8, and on a general understanding of the

phonology of continental and insular Portuguese (cf. Collins, I.P.A., Freitas,

and Rogers). The phonetic pronunciations of the first and second generation

local Portuguese fluctuate greatly, from conformity to Madeiran norms89 to

wide divergence. In the data elicited from Madeirans in Trinidad, no attempt

was made to change the variations that represent a departure from modern

standard Portuguese, particularly in the vowels. All semi-speaker departures

from the ‘original’ Madeiran pronunciations will be discussed and analysed in

chapter 7.

This list does not pretend to be exhaustive or to be a full record of the

Portuguese of all Portuguese creole bilinguals and semi-speakers in Trinidad.

Rather, it is a representative list that features the most common Portuguese

words and phrases known by this group of persons. The list comprises

88
The phonemic analysis of the data corpus is done in chapter 8. The conclusions
drawn from that analysis are the basis for the phonemic transcriptions hereunder.
89
Note that there exists a great deal of variation among the non-standard dialects of
Madeira, and between the standard dialect of Portuguese spoken in Madeira and these non-
standard regional dialects.
individual lexical items that were either recalled voluntarily or through

elicitation based on specific questions,90 isolated phrases and song lyrics.

90
See appendix B. Other words from Gudschinsky’s list were tested but are not listed
separately in that appendix. Cf. chapter 1, p. 23.
 General List of Oral Data

1. a (art., f., sg.) /`/ ‘a’ (feminine

definite article)
2. adeus (excl.) /`ƒcdvY/91 ‘good-bye’
3 água (n., f..) /ƒ`fv`/ ‘water’
4. aguardente (n., m.) /`fv`zƒcd(s/ ‘spirit, rum’
5. alhos (n., m., pl.) /ƒ`≥tY/ ‘garlic’
6. anda pequeno (s., imp) /a(c`.peƒkdmt/ ‘go away little boy’
7. anda (vb., 3rd. sg., pres., imp.) /a(ƒc`/ ‘walk’ (from the
verb andar ‘to walk’)
8. aqui (adv.) /aƒjh/ ‘here’
9. armas (n., f., pl.) /ƒ`zl`Y/ ‘arms’
10. associação (n., f.) /`rnrh`ƒr`(v/ ‘association’
11. Associação Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro
(n. prop., f.)
/`rnrh`ƒr`(v-onzstfdy`-oQhldiQt-ch-chƒyd(aQt/
‘Portuguese Association First of December’
12. avô (n., m.) /`ƒut/ ‘grandfather’
13. avó (n., f.) /`ƒuå/ ‘grandmother’
14. avozinho (n., dim., m.) /`utƒyhÙt/ ‘grandpa’
15. azeitona (n., m.) /`ydiƒstm`/ ‘olive’
16. azul (adj., m/f.) /`ƒytk/ ‘blue’
17. bacalhau (n., m.) /a`j`ƒ≥`v/ ‘(dried) cod’
18. beijinho (n., dim., m.) /adiƒYhÙt/ ‘little kiss’
19. Bendita Sejais (n. prop., f.) /aD(ƒchs`-rdiƒY`iY/ name of a hymn
(literally ‘blessed art thou’)
20. bênção (n., f.) /ƒadfir`(v / ‘blessing’
21. bisca (n., f.) /ƒahRj`/ ‘type of card game’
22. boa (adj., f.) /ƒan`/ ‘good’
23. boa noite (excl.) /ƒan`-ƒmnis/ ‘good night’
24. Boas Festas (n., m.) /ƒan`Y-ƒeDRs`Y/ ‘Merry Christmas’

91
Note that, in word-final position, the normal contrast or opposition between [R] and
[Y] appears to be neutralised. An archiphoneme ‘S’ may be posited, and is here represented
by /Y/. In Portuguese, the realisation of these phones is often conditioned by the sounds that
follow.
25. boa tarde (excl.) /ƒan`-ƒs`zc/92 ‘good
afternoon’
26. boca (n., f.) /ƒanj`/ ‘mouth’
27. bolo (n., m.) /ƒankt/ ‘cake’
28. bolo de família (n., m.) /ƒankt-ch-e`ƒlhkh`/ ‘family cake’
29. bolo de mel (n., m.) /ƒankt-ch-ƒlDk/ ‘molasses cake’
93
30. bom (adj., m.) /aå(/ ‘good’
31. bom dia (excl.) /aå(-ƒch`/ ‘good morning’
32. broas (n., f., pl.) /ƒaQn`Y/ ‘(sweet) biscuits’
33. cabem (vb., 3rd. pl., pres.) /ƒj`aD(/ ‘they fit’ (from the
verb caber ‘to fit’)
34. cacau (n., m.) /j`ƒj`v/ ‘cocoa’
35. cadeira (n., f.) /j`ƒcdiQ`/ ‘chair’
36. café (n., m.) /j`ƒeD/ ‘coffee’
37. cai (vb., 3rd. sg., pres., imp.) /j`i/ ‘fall’ (from the verb
cair ‘to fall’)
38. cala (vb., 3rd. sg., pres., imp.) /ƒj`k`/ ‘silence’ (from the
verb calar ‘to silence’)
39. cala a boca (s., imp.) /ƒj`k`-`-ƒanj`/ ‘shut up’
40. cala (o?) cu (s., imp., off.) /ƒj`k`-jt/ ‘shut your trap’
41. caldo (n., m.) /ƒj`kct/ ‘broth’
42. caldo de galinha (n., m.) /ƒj`kct-cd-f`ƒkhÙ`/ ‘chicken soup’
43. caldo verde (n., m.) /ƒj`kct-ƒudzc/ ‘potato and cabbage
soup/broth’
44. Calvinistas (n., m., pl.) /j`kuhƒmhRs`Y/ ‘Calvinists’
45. caralho (n., m., off.) /j`ƒQ`≥t/ ‘penis’
46. carne (n., m.) /j`zm/ ‘meat’
47. carne vinha-d’alhos (n., m.) /ƒj`zm-ƒuhÙ`-ƒc`≥tY/ ‘garlic pork’
48. casa (n., f.) /ƒj`y`/ ‘house’
49. casinha (n., dim., f..) /j`ƒyhÙ`/ literally ‘little
house,’ ‘outhouse’
50. cebola (n., f.) /rdƒank`/ ‘onion’
51. cebolas de escabeche /rdƒank`Y-ch-hRj`ƒaDR/
(n., f., pl.) ‘pickled onions’

92
Although most dialects of Portuguese, especially Brazilian dialects, only permit
sibilants in syllable- and word-final position, a few words in the data appeared to end in oral
and nasal stops. It may be that there is an underlying vowel in these cases, perhaps somewhat
similar to that in masculine French adjectives.
93
There may be free variation between [å(] and [n(], and [å] and [n].
52. chouriço (n., m.) /RnƒQhrt/ ‘spicy sausage’
53. cinco (num.) /ƒrh(jt/ ‘five’
54. coça rabo (s., imp., off.) /ƒjår`-ƒz`at/ ‘scratch your tail’
55. coça (vb., 3rd. sg., pres., imp.) /ƒjår`/ ‘scratch’ (from the
verb coçar ‘to scratch’)
56. colher (n., f.) /jnƒ≥Dz/ ‘spoon’
57. como (adv.) /ƒjnlt/ ‘how’
58. como está (s., int.) /ƒjnlt-hRƒs`/ ‘how are you’
59. cona (n., f., off.) /ƒjnm`/ ‘female pudenda’
60. consulado (n., m.) /jn(rtƒk`ct/ ‘consulate’
61. Consulado de Portugal /jn(rtƒk`ct-ch-onzstƒf`k/
(n. prop., f.) ‘Portuguese Consulate’
62. couve (n., f.) /ƒjnu/ ‘kale’
63. “culois” ? (n., m., pl.) /jtƒkniY/ ‘coolies, or Indians’
(from the English)
64. cu (n., m.) /jt/ ‘arse’
65. cuscuz (n., m.) /jtRƒjtY/ ‘couscous’
66. dá-me a machada (s., imp.) /c`-lh-`-l`ƒR`c`/
‘bring me the hatchet’
67. dá (vb., 3rd. sg., pres., imp.) /c`/ ‘give’ (from the
verb dar ‘to give’)
68. de (prep.) /ch/ ‘of’
69. Deus (n., m.) /ƒcdvY/ ‘God’
70. dez (num.) /cDY/ ‘ten’
71. dezembro (n. prop.) /chƒydfiaQt/ ‘December’
72. diabo cão (excl.) /chƒ`at-j`fiv/ ‘blast’
73. dia (n., m.) /ƒch`/ ‘day’
74. dinheiro (n., m.) /chƒÙdiQt/ ‘money’
75. dois (num.) /ƒcniY/ ‘two’
76. e (conj.) /h/ ‘and’
77. empregado (n., m.) /d(oQdƒf`ct/ ‘clerk’
78. escabeche (n., m.) /hRj`ƒaDR/ ‘marinade (of spicy
vinegar and pepper)’
79. está (vb., 3rd. sg., pres.) /hRƒs`/ ‘he/she/it is’ (from
the verb estar ‘to be’)
80. estupo(r)zinho (n., dim., m.) /hRstoåƒyhÙt/ ‘silly person’
81. eu (pron., 1st. sg, nom.) /ƒdv/ ‘I’
82. eu sou (a) filha do Manuel /ƒdv-rnv-`-ƒeh≥`-cn-l`mƒtDk/
(s., ind.) ‘I am Manuel’s daughter’
83. eu tenho o pão (s., ind.) /ƒdv-ƒsDÙt-n-o`(v/ ‘I have (the)
bread’
84. eu tenho o leite (s., ind.) /ƒdv-ƒsDÙt-n-kdis/ ‘I have (the) milk’
85. faca (n., f.) /ƒe`j`/ ‘knife’
86. fados (n., m., pl.) /ƒe`ctY/ ‘fados’
87. falta (vb., 3rd. sg., pres.) /ƒe`ks`/ ‘he/she/it fails’
(from the verb faltar ‘to fail or to lack’)
88. família (n., f.) /e`ƒlhkh`/ ‘family’
89. faz favor (n., m.) /e`Y-e`ƒutz/ ‘please’
90. festas (n., f., pl.) /ƒeDRs`Y/ ‘feasts’
91. filha (n., f.) /ƒeh≥`/ ‘daughter’
92. filho (n., f.) /ƒeh≥t/ ‘son’
93. frisado (adj., m.; pp.) /eQhƒy`ct/ ‘curly-haired’
94. frito (adj., m.; pp.) /ƒeQhst/ ‘fried’
95. galinha (n., f.) /f`ƒkhÙ`/ ‘chicken’
96. garfo (n., m.) /ƒf`zet/ ‘fork’
97. guardanapo (n., m.) /fv`zc`ƒm`o/ ‘napkin’
98. heróis (n., m., pl.) /dƒQniY/ ‘hdqndr’
99. igreja (n., f.) /hƒfQdY`/ ‘church’
100. imortal (adj., m/f.) /hlnzƒs`k/ ‘immortal’
101. Kall(ey)istas (n., m., pl.) /j`ƒkhRs`Y/ ‘Kalleyists’
102. lapinha (n., dim., f.) /k`ƒohÙ`/ ‘crèche’
103. leite (n., m.) /kdis/ ‘milk’
104. machada (n., f.) /l`ƒR`c`/ ‘hatchet’
105. madeira (n., f.) /l`ƒcdiQ`/ ‘Madeira, wine, also
a surname’
106. madeirense (n., m/f.) /l`cdiƒQDmr/ ‘Madeiran’
107. madrinha (n., dim., f.) /l`ƒcQhÙ`/ ‘godmother’
108. mãe (n., f.) /l`(i/ ‘mother’
109. malassadas (n., f., pl.) /l`k`ƒr`c`Y/ ‘doughnuts, floats’
110. mana (n., f.) /ƒl`m`/ ‘sister’
111. mano (n., m.) /ƒl`mt/ ‘brother’
112. manteiga (n., f.) /l`(ƒsdif`/ ‘butter’
113. mar (n., m.) /l`z/ ‘sea’
114. marchar (vb.) /l`ƒR`z/ ‘to walk’
115. maricas (n., f.) /l`ƒQhj`Y/ ‘effeminate boy’
116. mariquinhas (n., m., dim.) /l`QhƒjhÙ`Y/ ‘sissy’
117. me (pron., 1st. sg., acc.) /lh/ (?) ‘me’
118. mel (n., m.) /lDk/ ‘honey’
119. merda (excl., off.) /ƒldzc`/ ‘faeces, excrement’
120. merda seca (excl., off.) /ƒldzc`-ƒrDj`/ ‘dry faeces’
121. mesa (n., f.) /ƒldy`/ ‘table’
122. milho (n., m.) /ƒlh≥t/ ‘cornmeal’
123. milho frito (n., m.) /ƒlh≥t-ƒeQhst/ ‘fried corn cake’
124. molho (n., m.) /låƒ≥t/ ‘sauce’
125. monte (n., m.) /ln(s/ ‘mount, hill’
126. mosca (n., f.) /ƒlåRj`/ ‘fly’
127. muito (adv.) /ƒlth(st/ ‘very’
128. nação (n., f.) /m`ƒr`(v/ ‘nation’
129. não (adv.) /m`(v/ ‘no, not’
130. não cai (s., ind.) /m`(v-j`i/ ‘it does not fall’
131. não sabe (s., ind.) /m`(v-ƒr`ah/ ‘he/she does not
know’
132. nobre (adj., m/f.) /ƒmnaQh/ ‘noble’
133. noite (n., f.) /ƒmnis/ ‘night’
134. nossa (poss. adj., f.) /ƒmår`/ ‘our’
135. Nossa Senhora do Monte /mår`-rdÙåQ`-cn-ƒln(s/
(n. prop., f.) ‘Our Lady of the Mount’
136. nove (num.) /ƒmåuh/ ‘nine’
137. novo (adj., m.) /ƒmåut/ ‘new’
138. o (art., m., sg.) /t/ ‘the’ (masculine
definite article)
139. obrigado (excl., m.) /taQhƒf`ct/ ‘thank you’
(literally ‘obliged’)
140. obrigada (excl., f.) /taQhƒf`c`/ ‘thank you’
(literally ‘obliged’)
141. oito (num.) /ƒnist/ ‘eight’
142. olha (s., imp.) /ƒå≥`/ ‘look’ (from the
verb olhar ‘to look’)
143. orégões (n., m., pl., orégãos) /nƒQDfn(iY/ ‘thyme’
144. ovo (n., m.) /ƒåut/ ‘egg’
145. padrinho (n., dim., m.) /o`ƒcQhÙt/ ‘godfather’
146. pai (n., m.) /o`i/ ‘father’
147. pão (n., m.) /o`(v/ ‘bread’
148. papada (pp.) /o`ƒo`c`/ ‘double chin’ (or
from the verb papar ‘to eat,’ col.)
149. papas (n., f., pl.) /ƒo`o`Y/ ‘seasoning
preparation’
150. pastéis de bacalhau /o`RƒsdiY-ch-a`j`ƒ≥`v/
 (n., m., pl.) ‘salted cod patties’
151. patrão (n., m.) /o`ƒsQ`fiv/ ‘boss, employer’
152. pequeno (n., m., also adj.) /odƒjdmt/ ‘little boy’
153. permite (vb., 3rd. sg., pres.) /oDzƒlhs/ ‘he/she/it allows’
(from the verb permitir ‘to allow’)
154. pimpinela (n., f.) /ohfiohƒmDk`/ ‘anise,
christophene’
155. piolho (n., m.) /ohƒt≥t/ ‘louse’
156. pombadinha (n., f., dim.) /onfia`ƒchÙ`/ literally ‘little
dove,’ or an exclamation, ‘for heaven’s sake’
157. A Portuguesa /`-onzstƒfdy`/
(n. prop., f.) name of the
Portuguese National Anthem
158. postas (n., f., pl.) /ƒoåRs`Y/ ‘pieces’
159. povo (n., m.) /ƒonut/ ‘people’
160. presentes (n., m., pl.) /oQdƒydfisdY/ ‘gifts’
161. preto (adj., m., also n., m., pl.) /ƒoQdst/ ‘black’ or ‘Negro’
162. prima (n., f.) /ƒoQhl`/ ‘cousin’
163. Prima-Mata-Piolho /oQhl`-ƒl`s`-ohƒt≥t/
(n. prop., f.) ‘Cousin-Louse-
Killer’ (nickname)
164. primavera (n., f.) /oQhl`ƒuDQ`/ ‘spring’
165. Primavera Vai e Volta /oQhl`ƒuDQ`-u`i-h-unks`/
(n. prop., name of a song) ‘Spring Leaves and
Returns’
166. Prima-Viúva /oQhl`-uhƒtu`/
(n. prop., f.) ‘Cousin-the-
Widow’ (nickname)
167. primeiro (adj., m.) /oQhƒldiQt/ ‘first’
168. primo (n., m.) /ƒoQhlt/ ‘cousin’
169. promessas (n., f., pl.) /oQnƒlDr`Y/ ‘vows’
170. punha (vb., 3rd. sg. imf.) /ƒotÙ`/ ‘laid’
171. punhada (p.p.) /otƒÙ`c`/ ‘laid’ (from the verb
pôr ‘to lay’ (of eggs) or ‘to put’)
172. quando (adv.) /ƒjv`(ct/ ‘when’
173. quatro (num.) /ƒjv`sQt/ ‘four’
174. que (pron.) /jh/ ‘what’
175. querida Ave Maria (excl.) /jdƒQhc`-`u-l`ƒQh`/ ‘dear/holy Mary’
176. rabo (n., m., off.) /ƒz`at/ ‘buttocks’
177. raios de partem (excl.) /ƒz`itY-ch-o`Qsdfi/ ‘damn’
178. sabe (vb., 3rd. sg., pres.) /r`ah/ ‘know’ (from the
verb saber ‘to know’)
179. sapato (n., m.) /r`ƒo`st/ ‘shoe’
180. saca (adj., f.) /ƒr`j`/ ‘bag’
181. seca (adj., f.) /ƒrDj`/ ‘dry’
182. senhor (n., m.) /rDƒÙåz/ ‘Mr.’
183. senhora (n., f.) /rDƒÙåQ`/ ‘Mrs., lady’
184. seis (num.) /rdiY/ ‘six’
185. sete (num.) /rDs/ ‘seven’
186. sobre (prep.) /ƒrtaQh/ ‘over’
187. sonhos (n., m., pl.) /ƒrtÙtY/ literally ‘dreams,’
‘doughnuts’
188. sopa (n., f.) /ƒrno`/ ‘soup’
189. sopa d’alhos (n., f.) /ƒrno`-ƒc`≥tY/ ‘garlic soup’
190. sopa de couve (n., f.) /ƒrno`-ch-ƒjnu/ ‘cabbage/kale soup’
191. sopa de tomate (n., f.) /ƒrno`-ch-snƒl`s/ ‘tomato soup’
192. sou (vb., 1st. sg., pres.) /rn/ ‘I am’ (from the
verb ser ‘to be’)
193. tarde (n., f.) /s`zc/ ‘afternoon’
194. tenho (vb., 1st. sg., pres.) /ƒsDÙt/ ‘I have’ (from the
verb ter ‘to have’)
195. terra (n., f.) /ƒsDz`/ ‘earth’
196. tia (n., f.) /ƒsh`/ ‘aunt’
197. tinta (n., f.) /ƒshfis`/ ‘type of wine’
198. titia (n., dim., f.) /shƒsh`/ ‘auntie’
199. tio (n., m.) /ƒsht/ ‘uncle’
200. tomate (n., m.) /snƒl`s/ ‘tomato’
201. tortas (n., f., pl.) /ƒsåzs`Y/ ‘pie’
202. tremoços (n., m., pl.) /sQDƒlårtY/ ‘lupine seeds’
203. três (num.) /sQdY/ ‘three’
204. trombadinha (n., f., dim.) /sQn(a`ƒchÙ`/ ‘bounce, collide, or crash’
205. um (num.) /t(/ ‘one’ (also singular
masculine indefinite article)
206. uma (art., f., sg.) /tl`/ ‘a’ (feminine
indefinite article)
207. vai (vb., 3rd. sg., pres.) /u`i/ ‘he/she/it goes’
(from the verb ir ‘to go’)
208. valente (adj., m/f.) /u`ƒkd(s/ ‘valiant’
209. vem cá (s., imp.) /ƒuDfi-j`/ ‘come here’ (from
the verb vir ‘to come’ and cá ‘here’)
210. vilão (n., m.) /uhƒk`(v/ ‘peasant’
211. vinho (n., m.) /ƒuhÙt/ ‘wine’
212. volta (vb., 3rd. sg., pres.) /ƒunks`/ ‘he/she/it returns’
(from the verb voltar ‘to return’)
213. viúva (n., f.) /uhƒtu`/ ‘widow’
214. vovó (n., dim., f.) /unƒuå/ ‘granny’

The following is a list of family surnames in Trinidad that are also

considered part of the orally transmitted data, as they are in use at an oral

level, but are separated from the above data, because they are also in use at a

written level. In terms of the Portuguese contribution in Trinidad to toponyms

in general and street names in particular, all are patronymics only. Most of

them belonged to the original owners of the streets or areas, or in one rare case

to a prominent Portuguese creole, and are street names rather than the names

of villages, towns, or rivers.94 Of interest is the surname ‘de Nobriga’ which

is used for a celebration in Tobago that is called ‘de Nobriga Day’ or ‘Nutten

Day.’ It is also the name of a song in that island that is sung during that

festival (cf. J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 42).

Where relevant, the phonetic variants of these family names will be

discussed in the following chapters. Particles such as ‘de’ or ‘de’ plus one of

the definite articles, ‘o’, ‘a,’ ‘os’95 or ‘as’ are included with names that never

appear without a particle, but are not phonetically transcribed. The particles

for those names for which particles are optional are placed in parentheses.

94
See J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 101, for a list of Portuguese street names in Trinidad.
95
Note that most informants translated the particle ‘dos’ in ‘dos Ramos’and ‘dos
Santos’ as ‘two’ (from the Spanish dos).
Some informants were able to provide glosses for their names, most of which

matched dictionary definitions, and the meanings of others were found in

chapter 5 of Pap’s Portuguese-American Speech 124–38 and Moser’s article,

Portuguese Family Names.

Some Portuguese Names in Trinidad

A. Surnames

215. (d’) Abreu /`ƒaQdv/

216. Affonso /`ƒeå(yt/
217. Alfonso /`kƒeå(yt/
218. Alves /ƒ`kudY/
219. d’ Andrade /`(ƒcQ`c/
220. Baptista /a`ƒshRs`/ ‘baptist’
221. Betancourt /ads`(ƒjtz/
222. Biscoito /ahRƒjnist/ ‘aiscuit’
223. Brazão /aQ`ƒy`(v/
224. (de) Cabral /j`ƒaQ`k/
225. de Caires /ƒj`iQhY/
226. Caldeira /j`kƒcdiQ`/ ‘kettle’
227. Camacho /j`ƒl`Rt/
228. de Cambra /ƒj`(aQ`/
229. Carvalho /j`zƒu`≥t/ ‘oak’
230. Castanheiro /j`Rs`ƒÙdiQt/ ‘chestnut tree’
231. de Castro /ƒj`RsQt/
232. Chaves /ƒR`udY/
233. Coelho /jnƒD≥t/ ‘rabbit’
234. Correia /jåƒzdi`/ ‘strap’
235. da Costa /ƒjåRs`/ ‘of the coast’
236. Cunha /ƒjtÙ`/
237. da Cruz /jQtY/ ‘of the cross’
238. Dias /ƒch`Y/ ‘days’
239. Faria /ƒe`Qh`/
240. Farinha /e`ƒQhÙ`/ ‘flour’
241. Fernandes /edzƒm`(cDY/
242. Ferraz /edƒz`Y/
243. Ferreira /edƒzdiQ`/ ‘smith, smithy’
244. Figueira /ehƒfdiQ`/ ‘fig tree’
245. Francisco /eQ`(ƒrhRjt/ ‘Francis’
246. Franco /ƒfQ`(jt/
247. de Freitas /ƒeQdis`Y/ ‘of the priests’
248. da Gama /ƒf`l`/
249. Garanito /f`Q`ƒmhst/
250. Gomes /ƒfnlDY/
251. Gonçalves /få(ƒr`kuDY/
252. de Goes /ƒfndY/
253. Gouveia /fnƒudi`/ name of a town
254. Gregório /fQdƒfåQht/ ‘Gregory’
255. Henriques /D(ƒQhjdY/
256. Jardim /Y`zƒchfi/ ‘garden’
257. Jerónimo /YdQƒåmhlt/ ‘Jerome’ ?
258. de Jesus /YdƒytY/ ‘Jesus’
259. João /Ytƒ`(v/ ‘John’
260. Joaquin /Yt`ƒjhfi/ ‘Joachim’
261. Leal /kdƒ`k/ ‘loyal’
262. Lourenço /knƒQdfirt/ ‘Lawrence’
263. (da) Luz /ktY/ ‘light’
264. Macedo /l`ƒrdct/
265. Machado /l`ƒR`ct/ ‘axe’
266. Madeira /l`ƒcdiQ`/ ‘Madeira, wood’
267. Magalhães /l`f`ƒ≥`(iY/
268. Marques /ƒl`zjDY/
269. Martins /l`zƒsh(Y/ ‘Martin’
270. de Mattos /ƒl`stY/ ‘bushes’
271. Mendes /ƒld(cDY/
272. Mendonça /ld(ƒcnfir`/
273. Menezes /ldƒmhydY/
274. Meosa /lhƒny`/
275. Miranda /lhƒQ`(c`/
276. Moniz /lnƒmhY/
276. Nascimento /m`rhƒld(st/ ‘birth (of Jesus)’
277. Netto /ƒmDst/ ‘grandson’
278. Neves /ƒmDudY/
279. (de) Nobriga /måƒaQhf`/
280. Noreiga /mnƒQdif`/
281. Nunes /ƒmtmDY/
282. (d’) Oliveira /nkhƒudiQ`/ ‘olive tree’
283. d’Ornellas /nzƒmDk`Y/
284. Pacheco /o`ƒRDjt/
285. (de) Paiva /ƒo`iu`/
286. Pereira /odƒQdiQ`/ ‘pear tree’
287. Perneta /odzƒmDs`/ ‘one-legged
person?’
288. Perouza /odƒQny`/
289. Pestana /odRƒs`m`/ ‘eyelash’
290. Pimento /ohƒld(st/ ‘pepper’
291. Pinheiro /ohƒÙdiQt/ ‘pine tree’
292. Pinto /ƒohfist/ ‘chick’
293. Pires /ohƒQhY/ ‘saucer’
294. Querino /jD(ƒQhmt/
295. Quintal /jh(ƒs`k/ ‘back yard’
296 (dos) Ramos /ƒz`ltY/ ‘branches’
297. Reis /zdiY/ ‘kings’
298. Rezende /zdƒyd(ch/
299. Ribeiro /zhƒadiQt/ ‘river’
300. Rodrigues /znƒcQhfDY/
301. Rufino /ztƒehmt/
302. Sabino /r`ƒahmt/
303. Sá Gomes /r`-ƒfnlDY/
304. Saldenha /r`kƒcdÙ`/
305. (dos) Santos /ƒr`(stY/ ‘saints’
306. Sardinha /r`zƒchÙ`/ ‘sardine’
307. Serpa /ƒrDzo`/
308. Serrão /rdQ`(v/
309. (de) Silva /ƒrhku`/ ‘of the forest, brier’
310. Soares /ƒrt`QDY/
311. de Souza /ƒrny`/ ‘from a salty place’;
also name of a river
312. Teixeira /sdiƒRdiQ`/ ‘boxwoods’
313. Vasconcellos /u`Rjn(ƒrdktY/
314. Vieira /uhƒdiQ`/ ‘scallop’
315. Xavier /R`ƒuhDz/
B. First Names

316. Alberto /`kƒaDzst/ ‘Albert’

317. Conceição /jn(rdiƒr`(v/ ‘Conception’
318. Eurico /tƒQhjt/
319. Mariazinha /l`Qh`ƒyhÙ` / ‘Mary’
320. Rosinha /znƒyhÙ`/ ‘Rosie’

Song Fragments

The following song fragments were elicited from informants, and the glosses
of individual words are provided in the first list above:
(1)
A Portuguesa – the national anthem of the Portuguese Republic

A Portuguesa /`-onzstƒfdy`/

Part of first verse:

Heróis do mar, nobre povo /dƒQniY-cn-l`z-›mnaQh-ƒonut/
Nação valente e imortal… /m`ƒr`(v-u`ƒkd(s-h-hlnzƒs`k/

Part of chorus:
Às armas, às armas,
Sobre a terra e sobre o mar
Às armas, às armas,
…marchar, marchar.
/`Y-`zƒl`Y-`Y-`zƒl`Y/
/ƒrnaQh-`-ƒsdz`-h-ƒrnaQh-n-l`z/
/`Y-`zƒl`Y-`Y-`zƒl`Y/
/l`ƒR`z-l`ƒR`z/

Part of first verse:

“Heroes of the sea, noble people

“Nation valiant and immortal...”

Part of chorus:
“To arms, to arms
“Over land and over sea
“To arms, to arms
“... march, march.”

(2)

Galinha papada – a children’s song game

Galinha papada, /f`ƒkhÙ`-o`ƒo`c`/
Quando ovos punhada; /ƒjv`(ct-ƒnutY-otƒÙ`c`/
Punha um, punha dois, punha três /ƒotÙ`-tfi-ƒotÙ`-ƒcniY-ƒotÙ`-sQdY/
Pombadinha, trombadinha /onfia`ƒchÙ`-sQnfia`ƒchÙ`/

“Double-chin chicken,
“When it laid its eggs,
“Laid one, laid two, laid three –
“For heaven’s sake! Crash! (?)”

Proverbs

Que Deus permite não falta (?)

God’s promises never fail

Duas promessas não cabem numa saca

Two promises don’t fit in one bag

Written Data

The written data all belong to the twentieth century, and are of two

types: Portuguese used in texts written in English, and texts of direct speech of

the Portuguese influenced English of Portuguese immigrants.

Portuguese in English Language Texts

The writings of Charles Reis have been referred to several times

already, as he was the writer at the forefront of the Portuguese community.

His works, Brief History of the Associação Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro

and Associação Portugueza Primeiro de Dezembro, both of which were

written in English between 1926 and 1945, contain sprinklings of Portuguese

words and phrases throughout.

Those Portuguese quotations used by Reis without an English

translation are as follows, with glosses provided in English. Spellings in

brackets represent modern standard Portuguese orthography, and page

numbers refer to his 1945 work, Associação Portugueza Primeiro de

Dezembro.

1. “a honra de permittir que o Vosso nome lhe sirva de titulo, assim

como tambem a acceitar a presidencia honoraria do mesmo” (a honra
de permitir que o Vosso nome lhe sirva de título, assim como também
a aceitar a presidência honorária do mesmo”) (10): “the honour of
allowing your name to be used as that of patron of the Association, as
well as of accepting the honorary presidency of the same”

2. “Viscaes de Mes” (Viscães do Mês?) (12): “Employees of the Month”

3. “scenario” (cenário) (16): “backdrop”

4. “Hymno de Restauracâo de Portugal” (Hino de Restauração de

Portugal) (31): “Anthem of the Restoration of Portugal”

5. The debate “Que a occupacâo de Ruhr pela a Franca e illegal” (Que a

ocupação de Ruhr pela França é ilegal” (61): “Be it resolved that the
occupation of Ruhr by France is illegal”

6. “Litteratura e Critica” (Literatura e Crítica) (61): “Literature and

Criticism”
7. “regulamentos” (88–89): “rules” (or “regulations”)

8. “Secretario (Secretário) Geral da Chancelaria das Ordens

Portuguesas” (94–95): “General Secretary of the Chancellery of
Portuguese Orders”

9. “Grau da Ordem de Benemerencia (Benemerência)” (95): “Order of

Merit: Degree of Worthiness”

10. “Recodacao de Associacao Portuguesa 1° de Dezembro (Recordação

da Associação Portuguesa 1° de Dezembro): Trinidad, B.W.I., Julho
1910” (143): “Souvenir of (or “Memento from”) the Associação
Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro: Trinidad, B.W.I., July 1910”

11. “Brinde da Associacâo (Associação) Portuguesa 1° de Dezembro: Ao

estado maior do Cruzado D. Carlos I por occasiâo (ocasião) de sua
estada na Trin(i)dade em Julho de 1910” (145): “Cheers (A toast)
 from the Associação Portuguesa Primeiro de Dezembro to the good
fortune of the cruiser Dom Carlos I on the occasion of its visit to
Trinidad in July 1910”

12. “Recita (Récita) de Gala” (158): “gala performance”

13. “Viva os Alliados” (“Aliados”) (159): “Long live the allies”

14. “Bemvidos” (“Benvindos”) (159): “Welcome”

15. “afim de re-considerar acerca da recente nomeacao de Consul

Portuguez” (“afim de reconsiderar acerca da recente nomeação de
Cônsul Português”) (173): “in order to reconsider the recent
nomination of the Portuguese Consul”

16. “O Presidente da Assembleia (Assembléia) Geral” (173): “President

of the General Assembly”

17. “empregado” (220): “clerk”

18. “patroa” (“patrão”) (220): “boss”

19. “Luzitanos” (240): (“Lusitanos”) “Portuguese”

20. “240 reis” (241): “240 reis,” the pre-Republican currency used by
Portugal

Portuguese-Influenced English and Trinidadian English Creole

The texts that show the influence of Portuguese on English are

presented chronologically, starting with the skit “Portuguese Shop in George

Street” (1905), followed by excerpts from the novel Pitch Lake (1934), and

ending with the chorus from the 1947 calypso Portuguese Dance by King

Pharaoh.96

96
There were two calypsonians by the sobriquet of King Pharaoh. This King Pharaoh
is the first of the two and was a member of the Young Brigade of calypsonians. His real name
is unknown at this point.
 “Portuguese Shop in George Street”

The script for the skit “Portuguese Shop in George Street” was written

by an anonymous author, and published in Penny Cuts on 17 September 1904.

The underlined sections are those spoken by Johnnie, the Portuguese shop-

keeper.

SCENE:––
Under the gallery near by conversing with Marius was John Sydney, John
Geoffrey, old Glaudon, and Henry Duranto. Time 8.45 a.m.

Johnnie at Counter

ENTER, –– Sarah Jane (cook)

S.J. –– Gimme haff ponng nusine shuggah at 3 cts.

John. –– Is 2 cents fur rit.

S.J. –– Two cents wha far? Is cent and a haff!!

John. –– Yes, cent-and-a-haff, but you en got de farding.

S.J. –– Yes, yuh teef––ah gat de farding, tanks to awee fren, MAILLARD.

John. –– Yoh gat de fardeen? Lem’me see it.

Sarah Jane exhibits a new bright farthing.

John. –– Ah! me Gad. MAILLARD is a h–– look he wuk an he wuk an he

cum an he bring de fardeen an spile all we prafit.

S.J. –– Yes, yuh ole teef!!! All dun wid now. You Putagees muss look out
now.

Johnnie weighed the half pound of sugar, and accepted his cent and a
half, sighing heavily as he did so.

The gentlemen conversing under the gallery, overheard the whole

thing, and laughed to kill –– Old Marius declaring that MAILLARD could not
have used his efforts in a more philanthropic direction. He referred to what
came under his own observation with regard to the overcharge by the shop-
keepers –– on the half pound to which the poorer classes were subject and was
loud in his praise of MIKE as he called MAILLARD.

The other gentlemen concurred…. The scent from the drain near by
hurried them off.97

Pitch Lake

The following quotations from the first two chapters of Pitch Lake by

Alfred Mendes are spoken by the Madeiran immigrant, António da Costa, and

there are passing references to António and his speech in chapter 5 and others.

p.9
“Wait a minute, Aldophus,” old da Costa said. “You got foo wait you’ turn,”
and he unconcernedly continued serving the little group of Indians….”

p.12
“But you know the bizhinzh, Joe; and dough trade izh dull now, you can hol’
on and hope foo mo’ better timezh,” the old man said.

“I not too keen, poopa,” Joseph said again.

p.13
“ Bu’, boy, you knowzh I got to go ’way, an’ de bizhinzh izh a good one.
Tak’ it an’ pay me when you can,” the old man said.
…

“Youzh young, boy,” the father said again in a melancholy sing-song voice…
“an’ you can mek somet’ing good out o’ dizh shop.”

p.17
“Whazh all dizh? Hai, man, get out o’ dizh shop. Get out, I tell you, you
darm nigger.”

p.21
“Whazh matter wid you at all tonight, Joe? You not treatin’ de customerzh
good. Change de drink.”

p.22
97
Special thanks to Lise Winer for making this available.
“You getting crazhy, Joseph” – he accented the last syllable of the name –
“why fo you t’row ’way de gin? You non know I pay for it, it cos’ me money,
an’ you t’row it ’way like dat? You getting crazhy; after all dezhe yearzh I
work fo’ de money, now fo’ you to t’row it ’way?”

“Joseph,” the old man said,” Joseph, youzh going end you dayzh bad,”….

p.23
“All right. Let’zh have a drink.”

p.31
The old man, talking all the time in his broken sing-song English, poured out
three measures of rum.
…

“Come, Joseph,” the old man said. “Sookdeo wan’ have a drink foo luck.”
…

“Boyzh mus’ have dey fun,” the old man said with a twinkle in his eye.

p.65
Old da Costa would say, “Dey help pay me income taxsh.”

Portuguese Dance

The following is the 1947 calypso, Portuguese Dance by calypsonian

King Pharaoh. The chorus is highlighted, and it is a parody of the sounds of

Portuguese speech as perceived by a non-Portuguese observer.

It was luck and chance –

Pharaoh in a Potogee dance;
It happen by chance –
Pharaoh in a Potogee dance;
While the music was playin,
If you see how Potogee dancin, Lord,
Ah gi dem a start
A spicy leggo to break down de art

“Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh

Vishkee, vishkee vay, Pharaoh
Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh
Vishkay, voy voy”

Well, that was a programme –

Every Potogee buy a ten round;
One pick up a guitar
To play a Potogee rhumba;
While de people dancin,
If you see how Potogee grinning, Lord
Ah jump on a band
A spicy leggo to break down de art

“Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh

Vishkee, vishkee vay
Vey voy vay vey”

Water more than flour,

Up come a Potogee mama;
King Pharaoh I love you –
Tell me, what ah going to do
Ah say let us dance, Pharaoh,
Ah want to romance,
Please have a care
She tell me doh worry –
Meh husband eh here.

“Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh

Vishkee, vishkee vay, Pharaoh
Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh
Vey vay voy voy”

The following chapter will go on to analyse the above data in the areas

of lexico-semantics and phonology. There is no possibility of syntactic

analysis of the data since it comprises mainly lexemes and song fragments,

and the focus will therefore be on the analysis of the lexico-semantic domains

in which the data can be categorised and of the phonology of the data across

generations, from the Madeiran immigrants to the following generations born

in Trinidad.
 7

ANALYSIS OF THE DATA 1: LEXICO-SEMANTIC SURVIVALS

The data presented here will be analysed for the purpose of understanding

what exactly has survived at the level of community among the Portuguese,

and why. In this chapter, these data will be analysed lexico-semantically to

determine the surviving semantic domains that were orally transmitted from

the immigrant generation to at least two successive generations, and to

determine how the dictates of culture affected the persistence and survival of

such domains. As this thesis seeks to examine language obsolescence cross-

generationally, only oral data collected from informants will be analysed at

the lexico-semantic level. The following chapter will examine the oral data

for the purpose of analysing the types of inter-generational phonological

changes that have taken place, and written data will be examined for the

influences of English on immigrant Portuguese, and vice-versa.

Surviving Domains in Trinidad

A lexico-semantic ‘domain,’ according to Crystal, is “a term used by

some to refer to the area of experience covered by the set of terms in a

particular semantic field, e.g. colour terms, kinship terms and so on” (A

Dictionary of Linguistics and Phonetics 112). Warner-Lewis’ work on

Trinidad Yoruba (TY) lists domains into which she places surviving terms

from TY for lexico-semantic analysis. These are as follows: content words

such as nouns are classified under anatomical terms, human categories, fauna,
flora and food, physical objects and activities, musical instruments and

rhythms, temporal divisions, days of the week, numeration, abstract concepts,

and places and nationalities. Other word classes are treated separately: verbs,

adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, connectives, complementisers, salutations

and exclamations, sentence tags and lexical loans. While these domains are

applicable to most language groups in general, it was not possible to analyse

Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad in such detail, given the comparatively

fewer data.

The surviving lexemes known to Luso-Trinidadians of the first and

second creole generations are mainly nominal in nature, and fall into five

main categories that naturally suggested themselves, based on the author’s

knowledge of Portuguese culture in general, and Madeiran culture in Trinidad

in particular. The first four are food names, religion, taboo words, and a

miscellaneous grouping, such as standard greetings and song fragments. The

fifth category is purely onomastic in nature and has proven to be useful in the

phonological analysis of the death of the language. The miscellaneous

grouping covers a variety of areas or domains, but it was not possible to

expand this category any further since each sub-category has fewer than five

items each. The domains into which the items would fall are noted in the

analysis of each piece of data.

The survival of specific domains point to the core values of the group

in question. It is therefore clear that food and religion were two of the core

values of the Portuguese in Trinidad, and the survival words in these areas
show a clear need on the part of immigrants to preserve and pass on words in

these domains. The retention of taboo words can best be explained by

frequency of use, secrecy, and possibly also a type of felt emotional need.

Member of one family remember their mother using a Portuguese swear word,

but rarely English swear words, since she did not want them to hear,

understand and repeat the English equivalents.

The motivation behind learning and replacing the majority of other

lexemes even in these domains and others has two sources. On the one hand, it

can be attributed to the linguistic insecurity and powerlessness of the group.

On the other, wholesale borrowing, ultimately leading to language shift, is

also due to the prestige held by the official and even unofficial varieties of the

wider society versus the non-prestige of the Portuguese language.

Food Names

The most widely recalled remaining lexical fragments belongs to the

food category. Wherever Madeirans have established themselves, they have

clung to their culinary traditions beyond all other cultural forms. While they

eventually adopt dishes from the surrounding community, in the initial stages

of re-settlement they tend to strongly adhere to their own, primarily for

reasons of nostalgia. Even in Madeira, some dishes had long been associated

with particular religious seasons important to the community and were

invested with an aura of near-sacredness. Most immigrants already had strong

feelings attached to their cuisine and had no intention of abandoning those

dishes that were most meaningful to them.

 Rogers has noted that Madeiran cuisine, which he describes as “folk

cooking” because of the rural origins of many recipes, is the most prevailing

feature of Madeiran culture and one of which Madeirans are unitedly proud

(Atlantic Islanders 413). Furthermore, given the sacrificial lifestyles adopted

by the male immigrants in particular, who tended to leave their homes early in

the morning and return late at night, reunions around the table were often the

only times that families could come together, and thus the names of some

ordinary, everyday food items popular among the Portuguese were passed on

by parents to their creole children. Therefore, both the names of basic food

items as well as special dishes were preserved among the Portuguese creoles.

Even some dishes that ultimately lost their Portuguese names have persisted

among several generations after the first immigrant generation, since

community members share strong feelings about this aspect of their ancestral

culture.

In Trinidad, Madeiran cooking became known for its use of cabbage,

soups and pork, and especially for its use of garlic, onions and olive oil as

seasoning agents. The most famous dish, carne (de) vinha-d’alhos, ‘meat in a

wine and garlic marinade,’ is simply translated as ‘garlic pork’ in Trinidad (or

‘pickled meat’ or ‘pickled pork’ by some in the United States), and is also

known as ‘calvinadage’ or ‘carvinadage.’ It is frequently the subject of much

animated discussion as being the last relic of ‘true’ Madeiran cooking in

Trinidad. This is the original form or spelling, with vinha-d’alhos being a

compound meaning ‘a wine and garlic marinade’ (cf. Collins 362), although
Aurélio’s definition of vinha-d’alhos notes that it is usually a vinegar-based

marinade, and that wine is now seldom used (1778). It is the obvious ancestor

of the latter part of the Luso-Trinidadian version of the name for garlic pork,

as opposed to carne de vinho e alhos, as suggested by some. Other spellings

of calvinadage include carvindage (Quintal 9), cavindajh (“Tribute to Trinis,”

a dialect poem, author unknown, 1997) and cavanadage (Besson and

Gomes98). (The latter is given as the correct reply to the question “What is the

name of the Portuguese Christmas breakfast dish?” and is found among the

yellow question cards.) Some informants, however, assume that vinha is

vinho (‘wine’) and insist that the original Portuguese for ‘garlic pork’ is carne

de vinho e alhos, ‘meat in wine and garlic,’ and this is the version that is

found in Reis (50). Some informants are aware that carne is literally

translated as ‘meat,’ but in the compound carne vinha-d’alhos, it refers to

pork. Allsopp’s dictionary definition of garlic pork is “cubed pork marinated

in vinegar, garlic and herbs, boiled in the marinade until dry, then fried in its

own fat.” He adds that “it is traditional Christmas fare originating with the

Portuguese in the population,” and it appears to be limited to Trinidad and

Guyana (257). That dictionary, however, does not give the local Portuguese-

derived name for the dish.

Other surviving terms associated with ‘garlic pork’ include the special

oregano or thyme or ‘Portuguese thyme’ (origan(um) virens, or ‘sweet

98
Buy the Savannah, by Besson and Gomes, is a game broadly modelled along the
lines of the money game Monopoly. Advancing in the game is based on successfully
answering questions on the history, sport and culture of Trinidad and Tobago.
majorcam’) used in the preparation of this dish. It is known by its pluralised

Portuguese form, orégões or orégãos (orégão being the singular form), or

‘orege,’ a local spelling that approximates local pronunciation of the word

[nħDY] (Quintal 11). The whole seasoning preparation was called papas. One

informant remembered postas, a word for pieces or ‘chunks’ of the meat. The

term for the accompanying ‘fried bread’ is English and not Portuguese, which

would probably be pão frito.

Garlic pork is featured in at least three local cookbooks and two local

restaurants, one in Scarborough and one in Port-of-Spain. Garlic pork

remains the only dish known to non-Portuguese in Trinidad and Tobago. One

of the restaurants, Little Lisbon, is Portuguese-owned and was opened in Port-

of-Spain in June 1998. The owner is an expatriate Portuguese and

acknowledges local tastes by including garlic pork as an appetiser on the

regular menu, and featured it as part of the 1998 Christmas menu. It is also

mentioned in writings pertaining to the Portuguese (cf. Reis, Associação

Portugueza 50, and Milne, “Remembering Things Gone By” 21). No

Portuguese-Trinidadian cookbooks ever developed as did Portuguese-

American cookbooks (cf. Pap, The Portuguese Americans 276, n.29).

Up to at least forty years ago, other dishes featured in Portuguese

homes, especially those of Guyanese Portuguese in Trinidad. Unlike the

Chinese who came in similar numbers to Trinidad, however, the Madeirans

have rarely passed on their cooking to outsiders to the community. Their food

remains very much an in-group feature, giving the impression that very little
is remembered of Portuguese culture. One informant, B06, remembered that

caldo verde which he glossed as ‘cabbage/kale soup’ (also ‘potato and

cabbage broth,’ according to Collins 52), and pastéis de bacalhau (‘codfish

cakes’) were once served at the former Queen’s Park Hotel under the

ownership of Joseph Bento Fernandes.

Where the names of everyday dishes were easily translatable into

English, those Portuguese names tended to be forgotten. The more routinely

prepared dishes that resembled other local dishes tended to drop their

Portuguese names in favour of simple translations. Those items that found no

ready equivalent, linguistic and otherwise, in the local host culture,

maintained their names, since the association was made between the items

themselves and their names. The more special, less frequently prepared

dishes tended to preserve their Portuguese names, and they were set apart as

being distinctively Portuguese. If the names were perceived as untranslatable,

the original phrase or word was kept.

The names of festival dishes that have survived among successive

generations include the Christmas speciality: carne vinha-d’alhos, as

mentioned above. Some informants also associated with Christmas the bolo

de mel, or ‘molasses cake.’ The popular translation of bolo de mel as ‘honey

cake’ is incorrect, since the cake is made from molasses. While bolo means

cake, in Portuguese, mel can refer to either mel de abelhas (‘honey of bees’)

or mel de cana or melaço (‘honey of cane,’ or ‘molasses’) (Cossart 148).

Some informants used the spelling buludimel, which reflects Portuguese

pronunciation. A menu card preserved by the Mendes family, for a dinner

held on 24 January 1886 for Prince Henri de Bourbon and Princess

Aldegonda, was written by Minerva Hart, and is of some interest. It included

Portuguese sardines on toast, and carne de vinho e alhos (described as “a

national dish of Portugal,” and translated as “pork seasoned in wine with

garlic and herbs, then fried”). Dessert was “Bhul de mel Cake” with custard

and Floating Island. On the menu, the items with French names borrowed by

English, were, however, all spelt correctly99: consommé, hors d’oeuvres, and

petit pois. Besides bolo de mel, some informants mentioned a cake known as

bolo de família (‘family cake’), but it is not clear what type of cake this

was.100

A smoked spicy sausage, chouriço, was imported by one merchant for

the Christmas season. A Carnival or pre-Lenten tradition was malassadas

(known in the plural), a type of float according to one informant, or ‘round

pancake’ (Menezes, Scenes 158) or ‘doughnut’ (Pap, The Portuguese-

Americans 216). The term was correctly analysed etymologically by one

informant as literally meaning “badly roasted” or “fried” (cf. Aurélio 1068).

Another type of doughnut was sonhos (plural of sonho, literally ‘dream’).

Other Madeiran specialities not confined to annual festivities, but which did

99
This is probably a result of the fact that the social status of French in Trinidad was
much higher and more public than that of Portuguese which was largely restricted to the home
and in-group gatherings. French was one of the first languages of the local educational
system as well as the mass media.
100
The Jamaican word ‘bulla’ is probably from Spanish bollo (Cassidy and Le Page 77).
While the latter is obviously related to the Portuguese bolo, it is not likely that the Jamaican
word is directly derived from the Portuguese.
not constitute everyday fare largely because of their unavailability in Trinidad,

included broas ‘(sweet) biscuits’ or ‘cookies’ of varying types, baked at

Christmas time as well (cf. Menezes, Scenes 158), tremoços or ‘lupine seeds’

and cuscuz, that is ‘ground wheat’ or ‘couscous.’

Everyday fare in the food category included bacalhau or ‘salted and

dried codfish.’ Allsopp notes that this term exists in Caribbean Creole

Englishes, including Sranan. According to Allsopp,

Sranan having no notable Spanish influence, this term is more

probably a Portuguese loan surviving from slave times and reinforced
in later times at the folk level by contact with Portuguese indentured
labourers, or labour contact with Spanish-speaking Caribbean
countries. (56)

The name buljol, a salad of salted (dried) cod, hard boiled eggs and

vegetables, is supposed to have come from brûle-gueule from the French

Creole, meaning ‘burn-mouth’ (Allsopp 120), but some informants suggested

that bacalhau might be remotely connected to buljol, or that it might have

helped to reinforce an already existing term.

The Portuguese for ‘pickled onions’ was fairly well-known among

members of Group B and others: cebolas de escabeche. Allsopp notes that

Jamaican caviche and escoveitch fish also stem from the Portuguese

escabeche, meaning “a marinade or pickle used for fish or meat” (Allsopp

127), or less specifically “a marinade or sauce of spiced vinegar and onion”

(Collins 130). This term, however, probably reached Jamaica before the

nineteenth century since there was no known influx of Portuguese labourers in

that century to that island.

 Soups were very popular at Portuguese tables. They include caldo de

galinha, ‘chicken broth or soup’ (or ‘chicken stock,’ according to Collins 52),

sopa de couve, ‘cabbage soup,’ sopa de tomate, ‘tomato soup,’ and sopa

d’alhos, ‘garlic soup’. They have lost their Portuguese names because they

were also commonplace in Trinidadian culinary culture, except for ‘garlic

soup.’

Other terms include molho (‘sauce’), usually used to refer to a

particular fish dish, milho or ‘cornmeal’ prepared in various ways, such as

fried, hence milho frito or ‘fried cornmeal,’ pão (‘bread’), manteiga (‘butter’),

and pimpinela (Pimpinella anisum), that is ‘anise’ or ‘christophene,’ as it is

locally known. The word for ‘egg,’ ovo, was also remembered, as well as

tortas, translated as ‘omelettes,’ or ‘pies.’

In the drink category are madeira (‘madeira wine’), aguardente

(‘spirit,’ glossed as ‘rum’ by one informant), and tinta (a type of wine), no

doubt associated with rum-shop experiences and culture. The words for

everyday liquids such as milk and water are also remembered: leite and água,

respectively, as well as the words for cocoa and coffee: cacau and café,

respectively.

Some recalled the names of other items associated with meal-times,

such as mesa (‘table’), cadeira (‘chair’), garfo (‘fork’), faca (‘knife’), and

colher (‘spoon’) and guardanapo (‘napkin’). One informant mentioned that

knowledge of everyday words like cadeira helped her to learn Spanish and

French in secondary school, and that her knowledge of Portuguese in general

helped with masculine and feminine articles in these other Romance

languages.

Religion

Roman Catholics

The Madeirans met a well established Roman Catholicism in Trinidad,

with adherents from other Latin groups, namely those of French and Spanish

origin, and from other ethnic groups. This denomination was therefore not

ethno-specific in Trinidad since it embraced a number of ethnic groups, and

the Catholic Portuguese were able to become active members of parishes

throughout the country. Although Portuguese Catholicism is vibrant and

distinct elsewhere, such as Guyana and Hawai’i, few reminders of this brand

of Catholicism remain in Trinidad. At one time, the cult of Nossa Senhora do

Monte was well known even to the Trinidadian public, and was celebrated

among Catholics in Trinidad as the feast of the Assumption. It was discussed

by name by authors such as Cothonay and Fortuné, and in 1917 (as well as

during some preceding years), news of its celebration was publicised in

newspapers such as the Port of Spain Gazette. Few informants remember this

typical Madeiran feast by its Portuguese name or even that the Portuguese

once played a significant rôle in its propagation. The present celebration has

lost all flavour of the Madeiran style and contribution. Among the

inscriptions in the Laventille church in Latin, English and French (Fortuné 7),

there were two inscriptions in Portuguese in the Laventille church (Fortuné

14).101 The terms for ‘church,’ igreja, and ‘God,’ Deus, were remembered by

at least informant B09.

A few terms surrounding the all-important feast of Christmas have

survived. While the feast itself is not unique to Catholics, again Madeiran

Portuguese have developed their own traditions over time, some of which are

remembered in name and practice by some because of their uniqueness in

Trinidad. These include the elaborate Portuguese Christmas crèche, lapinha,

literally ‘a small grotto’ (the diminutive of lapa, a large stone that forms a

shelter), and a Catholic hymn, the Bendita Sejais, which was sung for a

novena during the week preceding Christmas. Some remember the Christmas

greeting, Boas Festas. One informant, CB05, noted that other feasts were

important to Portuguese Catholics in particular. His knowledge of the

Portuguese language helped him to recall the words for ‘feasts’ (festas) and

‘vows’ or ‘promises’ (promessas), whose etymologies are the same as the

English words, and his pronunciation of the words was clearly Madeiran

Portuguese.

Presbyterians

Presbyterianism, new to nineteenth century Madeira, and carrying no

weight of tradition as did Catholicism in Portugal, brought with it no

Portuguese religious terminology. Absorption by the Scottish and other

101
These were “Socorro dos Christoes (sic) O.P.N.” and “O Maria Concebida Sem
Pecado Rogai Par (sic) Nos Que Recorremos a Vos.”
anglophone majority was swift and complete, so that not even hymns

translated into Portuguese survived among descendants of the Protestant

Madeirans. The Catholics, however, had a term for the Presbyterians,

Kall(ey)istas or Calvinistas, after their leader and John Calvin, respectively,

which is remembered by one informant, CB05, and by nineteenth century

writers, such as Blackburn (82, 92–93) and Norton (57, 64). During a visit to

Machico, Madeira’s second largest town, the author attempted to find the

Presbyterian chapel referred to by Testa (“The Apostle of Madeira” 246).

Using the words “presbiteriana,” “protestante” and even “Igreja da Escócia,”

the author was met with blank looks, and attempts to locate the chapel proved

futile until eventually one person suggested “Calvinista.” This is the name

still remembered in parts of Madeira.

Taboo Words

Several informants recalled that their family elders were inclined to

use Portuguese taboo words instead of English ones in their presence (and also

in the presence of servants or even clients in a rum shop). In the minds of the

speakers of Portuguese, this served a twofold purpose: firstly, it enabled them

to give vent to anger, and secondly, this was done supposedly without the

children being able to understand. However, because some of these words

were frequently repeated, they have survived in the memories of some

informants, longer than other words. The most frequently recalled expletive

or interjection was merda (‘excrement’), and the associated merda seca, with

seca meaning ‘dry.’ The exclamation diabo cão literally, ‘devil dog,’ is also
an exclamation, and may be glossed as ‘blast.’ One informant, CA04,

remembered her great-aunt repeating querida Maria (or querida Ave Maria

literally, ‘dear Mary’ or ‘hail holy Mary’) when frustrated.

Insulting commands or exclamations included coça rabo (coça from

the verb coçar meaning ‘to scratch’ and rabo, a vulgar term for buttocks), and

cala cu (cala from the verb calar meaning ‘to silence’ and cu, another

obscene word for the buttocks, which appeared in other compounds as well,

such as one heard as [ƒahRm¿jt], and roughly deduced to be beijo no cu, beijo

meaning ‘kiss,’ but glossed as ‘shut up’). The term tapa-cus was remembered

by some creole informants as an insulting command, but they were unable to

provide a gloss. (Tapa is either the noun ‘slap’ or the verb ‘to block up’ or ‘to

cover,’ and cus may be the plural of cu.)

Other insults used to refer to people include the following: some

informants recalled the term maricas ‘an effeminate man’ and its diminutive

mariquinha(s), meaning a hen-pecked, sissy or a man who does a woman’s

work, or a coward (Aurélio 1093–94). The word for ‘peasant’ vilão was used

very derisively to refer to those who came from rural villages, since

immigrants from Funchal and its parishes usually looked down on those

immigrants from the countryside. Informant CB05 recalled that a term for

‘oddball’ or ‘weirdo’ was often used but was unable to remember it. In a

conversation in English with the author, informant A01, a Madeiran, used the

insulting term boseira (‘stupid’) to refer to someone. Her creole son speaks

some Portuguese with her and was probably familiar with this term used often
by his mother.

Two terms of reference to other races were found. Informant B09 also

remembered the colour black, preto, because her aunt and mother frequently

used it derisively for those of African origin, including servants of African

descent (cf. Holm, Pidgins and Creoles 92; in Guyana, preyta means “a

person of African descent”). Informants CB05 and B09 confirmed this, as os

pretos (or simply preto) was used very frequently in discussing African

creoles, and ‘culois’ (?), the Portuguese pronunciation of “coolies,” used to

refer to those of Indian descent.

The family of one Madeiran-born informant, A03, including his non-

Portuguese wife and creole daughter, volunteered the taboo terms for male

and female sexual organs, caralho and cona, respectively, while others

refused to discuss these terms and others.

Finally, there were two other expressions that were heard, that may be

taboo, but both were undecipherable to the author, the informant and native

Portuguese speakers. They were [ohÙtRƒjDs] and [s`iƒlåc].

Songs and Miscellaneous Survivals

While several informants recalled hearing some fados, traditional

Portuguese songs, the song most frequently recalled was A Portuguesa, the

national anthem of the Republic of Portugal, especially the tune and the

chorus (cf. p. 213–14). Informant B09 remembered that her father and his

friends gathered together to play their guitars and sing what she thought were
Portuguese love songs, but she could not remember any of the lyrics. A

couple, informant CB03 (now deceased) and his wife, who talked about the

hymn for the Bendita Sejais remembered very little of it and could not

separate the words. Informant CB05 recalled the name, some lyrics and the

melody of a traditional song, Primavera Vai e Volta. That informant recalled

playing an interactive children’s song game, “Galinha papada, quando ovos

punhada; punha um, punha dois, punha três, pombadinha, trombadinha.”

This is an equivalent of the children’s game, “One potato, two potato, three

potato, four, five potato, six potato, seven potato, more,” in which the fists of

the participants are placed one on top of the other. The game includes a play

on words, since punho means fist in Portuguese. This game and others were

played by two first generation creole Portuguese women, B11 and the mother

of informant CB05, and they sang some of them in the presence of the writer

and a Brazilian student.

Other miscellaneous fragments were recalled. These include

numerals, greetings, commands and proverbs, as well as isolated words and

sentences. Some persons claimed to have heard jokes about Portuguese

pronunciation but were unable to remember them. Warner also notes that

there were jokes about Portuguese pronunciation of English, as well as patois.

In a response to examiners’ queries about the mention of Chinese and

Portuguese in her 1967 M.Phil. thesis on language in Trinidad,102 Warner

102
Letter from Maureen Warner in response to examiners’ queries, re: Maureen Warner,
“Language in Trinidad with Special Reference to English” (M.Phil. thesis, Department of
Language, University of York, England, 1967), dated 12 November, 1967. A copy of this
letter was made available to the author by Dr. Warner-Lewis in July 1991.
notes the following:

By saying that the Chinese and Portuguese “conformed to current

linguistic usage,” I mean that they spoke English or patois –
particularly –, or both, according to the linguistic habits predominating
in the environment in which they lived. It should be understood here,
however, that first generation immigrants spoke their own language
with other immigrants belonging to the same linguistic community as
themselves. Evidence for this has been provided by
(1) reminiscences of old people in Trinidad,
(2) several jokes based on the difficulty which both Chinese and
Portuguese immigrants experienced in pronouncing English, and
sometimes too, patois,
(3) Written evidence.103

Unfortunately, however, since the writing of that thesis in 1967, most of the

jokes told about Portuguese pronunciation appear to have been forgotten.

Informant CA03 was able to recall the numerals um (‘one’), dois

(‘two’), três (‘three’), quatro (‘four’), and cinco (‘five’), and sete (‘seven’) but

not seis ‘six,’ oito ‘eight,’ nove ‘nine’ and dez ‘ten,’ while another recalled

numbers one to ten, all except number seven.

The more frequent salutations were remembered such as bom dia

‘good morning’ boa tarde ‘good afternoon,’ boa noite ‘good night’ and adeus

‘good-bye.’ The standard greeting question Como está? ‘how are you?’ was

also mentioned by informants. One informant, CB03, remembered the

traditional act or ceremony of blessing. According to that informant, a child

would greet an adult and request a blessing, simply by asking “bênção?” after

which the adult would place his/her hand on the child’s head. A request for a

103
The written evidence was based on Franklin, ‘After Many Days,’ and Reis, A Brief
History.
greeting or parting kiss, um beijinho, was also remembered.

Commands repeatedly used in speaking to children included olha!

meaning ‘look!,’ venha cá (‘come here,’ which was not fully understood in its

individual parts, and which sounds like the Spanish ven acá), anda pequeno

(‘go away child’), and dá-me a machada (‘give me the hatchet’: machada is a

small machado, an axe). Informant CB05 remembered that commands such

as cala a boca (‘shut up’ or ‘shut your mouth’) and ‘behave yourself’ were

frequently used, but he could not recall the Portuguese for the latter. The

expressions ‘please’ – faz favor, and ‘thank you very much’ – muito

obrigado/a (‘o’ for males and ‘a’ for females) were also used by some

informants in their childhood.

Two proverbs remembered by informant CB05 were Que Deus

permite não falta and Duas promessas não cabem numa saca. These were

often said by his mother and other family elders. As Goodman notes, proverbs

and other “formulaic utterances” are among “the most conservative forms of

discourse in any unwritten language” (379).

Informant B09, whose father tried to teach Portuguese to his children,

recalled some stock sentences that her father taught her from a book: Eu tenho

o pão/o leite (‘I have bread/milk’). On a trip to Madeira and mainland

Portugal, she remembered saying to an acquaintance by way of re-

introduction Eu sou (a) filha do/de Manuel (‘I am Manuel’s daughter’). At a

shop, a clerk insisted that a bracelet that she wanted to buy would not slip

from her small wrist, and in telling the story, this informant repeated what the
clerk said twice não cai, não cai (literally ‘it doesn’t fall’). This informant

also remembered não sabe (‘he/she doesn’t know’), but her source of learning

is unconnected to that of the well-known pidgin word sabi from the

Portuguese saber.

The words for ‘money,’ ‘clerk’ and ‘boss’ (or ‘employer’), dinheiro,

empregado, and patrão, respectively were generally remembered. No doubt

this is due to the fact that many of the Portuguese owned their own shops or

worked as clerks for Portuguese and non-Portuguese employers throughout

the nineteenth century to this century. In addition to their experience as

entrepreneurs and employees, many registration forms at the Consulate show

that the occupation most often cited was that of empregado comercial.104

Other isolated words include sapato for ‘shoe’ which is also known in

Trinidad via Spanish (Allsopp 486–87), the colour azul ‘blue,’ aqui ‘here,’

pronouns such as eu ‘I’ and me ‘me,’ and functors or function words such as e

‘and,’ que ‘what,’ and de ‘of.’

Many remembered the Portuguese card game bisca (cf. Reis,

Associação Portugueza 88). Some persons continue to play this game, but

others say it is too complicated to teach to others, since this name refers to a

variety of card games (cf. Aurélio 262).

Names and Surnames

104
See table 5 in chapter 4. See also forms in appendix C.
 Some surviving kinship terms include affectionate terms of address

based on kinship relationships, such as titia (‘auntie’), from tia, meaning

‘aunt,’ tio for ‘uncle,’ vovó (‘grandma’) from avó (‘grandmother’), and both

avô (‘grandfather’) and avozinho (‘grandpa’), filho and filha for ‘son’ and

‘daughter,’ mano and mana for ‘brother’ and ‘sister,’ and mãe and pai for

‘mother’ and ‘father.’ The words for godfather and godmother were

remembered as well, padrinho and madrinho, respectively, which have both

religious and social overtones. The author was encouraged to address

informant A01 as tia and informant A05 as vovó as terms of respect, and was

in turn often referred to as menina (‘young girl’). Creole informants probably

heard the latter word growing up, but none seemed to recall it.

Nicknames were very popular among the Portuguese, but seldom

revealed to persons outside of one’s immediate family or social circle. In one

family, nicknames given by a Madeiran cousin include Prima-Mata-Piolho

(‘Cousin-Louse-Killer’), and Prima-Viúva (‘Cousin-the-Widow’). Other

nicknames include Mosca (‘fly,’ because of the person’s height and size) and

Frisado (‘curly-haired’). Another person was known as Senhora Presentes

because of a personal problem experienced in her relationship with her

husband that was known to her family and friends. Informant B09 recalled

that her father was nicknamed estupo(r)zinho, meaning ‘little wretch’ or ‘little

idiot.’ The Aurélio dictionary says that estupor is “a very ugly person or a

person with bad qualities” (731). She was led to believe it was a nickname,

but was never told the meaning despite her enquiries, giving her some
indication that it was a term of insult.

Official names that are currently in use are Associação Portuguesa

Primeiro de Dezembro (Portuguese Association First of December) and

Consulado de Portugal (Consulate of Portugal), both of which still appear on

formal functions associated with these two institutions.

With regard to Madeira itself, the name for Madeirans was recalled,

namely madeirenses. Some creoles remember the names of the towns and

villages whence came their parents, especially Funchal, São Roque, and

Câmara de Lobos. The latter, pronounced [ƒj`l`q™c™ƒknatR], was written

“Camre de Louse” and pronounced [j`lß™c`ƒktY] by informant B11. The

village of Monte, where the church of Nossa Senhora do Monte is located,

was pronounced by one informant, CA05, as [ltmsr]. This appears to be the

only example of its kind, and it may be that the original aspirated ‘t’ [sG] was

so heavily aspirated that it was perceived as a voiceless alveolar sibilant.

Names and surnames, though a small part of any given language, often

provide the most obvious means for identifying descendants of a particular

immigrant group. According to Marjorie Kimmerle, they are important

“inasmuch as they belong to individuals and are intimately connected with

their daily lives. Surnames are, moreover, the most conservative and enduring

element of the native language of the non-English speaking immigrant” (qtd.

in Pap, Portuguese-American Speech 124). As far as given names are

concerned, many daughters were given Portuguese names that were easily

accepted because they were known in both Spanish and English. Names in
this category included names ending in ‘-a,’ such as Maria, Rita, Monica, and

others, but not Portuguese names ending in ‘-ão,’ such as Conceição and

Assunção. Portuguese boys’ names were rarely given to second generation

creoles, unless they were named after their fathers or other family members.

Except for surnames like João and Francisco, now John and Francis, there are

no other reported translations of surnames into their English equivalents,

which was a widespread feature in the United States (Franklin, “An Eighty-

Seven Year Reminiscence” 2 and Pap, Portuguese-American Speech 130). In

Trinidad, only a few Portuguese surnames were subject to minor spelling

modifications, but the names are, for the most part, distinctly and recognisably

Portuguese (or at least Iberian, in the case of those names that were changed

to their Spanish equivalents).

Portuguese Influence on Trinidadian English

Because Portuguese remained very much a minority ethnolect in

Trinidad, this language has contributed no lexical items to Trinidadian

English, except for carvinadage which is gaining less and less currency.

There are, however, other terms which the Portuguese are thought to have

influenced, and these are as follows.

The derisive term for Portuguese in Trinidad ‘rash-patash’ or ‘raish-

patraish’ may well come from an imitation of the exclamation raios, a curse

translated as ‘damn.’ This is a shortened form of raios o parta (an interjection

expression revulsion or disgust, according to Aurélio 1386) or raios de partem

‘may lightning strike you,’ according to informant B06. Other informants

thought that it might have come from an imitation of rapaz, vem patraz or

patrazana (literally, “boy, come here,” and patrazana means “any old fellow,”

Aurélio 1282), or even from the English potash, since the Portuguese

originally held low positions in the society. However, raios is the most likely

the term of origin, as it is a common term; moreover, ‘rash’ or ‘raish’ are

closer in sound to [ƒz`htR] or sometimes [ƒz`h™R] than to [z™ƒo`Y]-

The Portuguese do not appear to have left behind any remnants of shop

culture. However, in discussing lexical loans or borrowings in Trinidadian

Yoruba (TY), Warner-Lewis notes that the origin of aroye ‘rice’ “… appears

to be unique to Trinidad and as such was most likely assimilated from

Portuguese shop-keepers or from Spanish neighbours of TY speakers” from

the word arroz, common to both Iberian languages (186, cf. 168). However,

this was not attested among the informants interviewed. Since the Portuguese

were among the chief traders of rum, some informants thought that babash

“bush rum” may have been influenced by the Portuguese baixo

[ƒa`hRt§\ meaning “low,” but the term is said to have originated in the

Guadeloupean drink babawaz (Allsopp 53). Allsopp notes that farine from

farinha exists in Guyana, via Amerindian contact with Brazil, but in Trinidad

its roots are more probably French from farine.

Steups [rsitor] or cheups [sÇRTor], an intransitive verb meaning “to

suck your teeth,” was also given a Portuguese etymology by some informants,

and linked to the Portuguese chupar [RTƒo`z] (“to suck”), but according to
Allsopp, it is a functional shift of the noun steups or cheups, and is perhaps

influenced by the Spanish verb chupar [sÇRtƒo`q], also meaning “to suck”

(149), which uses the affricate [sÇR] used by Trinidadian (English) and Spanish

speakers, instead of the fricative [R] used by Portuguese.

Because of the greater numbers of Portuguese in Guyana, that country

has Portuguese-derived words like olhado or ole-yard meaning “evil eye,” (cf.

Menezes 159), and cabruku probably from the Portuguese caboclo meaning

“copper-coloured” (Allsopp 128), neither of which is found in Trinidad.

Menezes also lists some surviving Portuguese food names and terms in

Guyana, only some of which are found in Trinidad (Scenes 158–59), and these

include bolo de mel, bacalhau, garlic pork, malassados, cus-cus, wines, milho

and broas, but espetada, sopa de feijão, and others were not attested to by

Trinidadian informants.

Portugee and its variants Portagie, Potogee, Potagi(e), Puttagee105

according to Allsopp (cf. ‘Po’teegee’ in Mendes 17, and ‘Poodigee’ Quintal

6), are designations for the Portuguese which may have come with slaves

from West Africa (450), but it is also in use in North America (cf. the title of

Harney’s article: “Portygees and Other Caucasians” and Portuguese Hill in

Illinois is commonly known as “Portagee Hill”). It is used by Portuguese

creoles themselves, but when used by non-Portuguese, it is often said in a

derogatory or disparaging tone. It is supposedly derived from a back

105
‘Putagee’ in Menezes, The Portuguese of Guyana 81.
formation from Standard English Portuguese, conceived as the plural form,

like Chinee for Chinese, as noted by Allsopp (450).

The vast majority of terms that have persisted are known only by some

descendants of twentieth century migrants. Although these migrations are

relatively recent, most of these descendants do not know the majority of the

terms given by informants here, and the surviving lexico-semantic domains of

Portuguese among Portuguese creoles in Trinidad are relatively few.

However, those that have survived indicate the degree of importance attached

to certain words and concepts, particularly in the domain of food and cuisine.

The attachment of the Madeirans to their regional cuisine is seen in the

survival of food lexemes, as well as in the continued knowledge of some types

of Madeiran cooking. This is the chief aspect of their culture that was

faithfully passed on to several generations of creoles and mixed creoles.

Other aspects of ancestral culture are long forgotten by descendants of

nineteenth century immigrants, and are quickly being forgotten by those of

twentieth century immigrants who have been completely assimilated into local

society and culture. The following chapter goes on to show the level of

phonological atrophy to which Portuguese words and phrases have been

subject, revealing yet another aspect of the obsolescence of this heritage

language in Trinidad and Tobago.

 8

ANALYSIS OF THE DATA 2: PHONOLOGICAL CHANGE

This chapter now goes on to examine both the oral and written data at the

phonological level. Analysis of the oral data is preceded by a discussion of

the phonemes of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad, and the data are then

analysed cross-generationally, through three pronunciations of certain

lexemes, representing the immigrant generation, and the first and second

creole generations. The written data shows Portuguese pronunciation of

English and Trinidadian English Creole as perceived by three authors. The

written data serve to confirm the oral data, that is, informants’ reports on the

speech of their forebears, and they also mirror, to varying extents, the English

of Madeirans in Trinidad and Tobago who are alive today. Since most of the

data are words and fossilised fragments, no syntactic analysis is possible and

the focus is therefore phonological.

Oral Data

The Phonemes of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad

Consonants

This study does not attempt to undertake a comparison between the

Standard European Portuguese dialect and the insular Portuguese dialect of

Madeira. However, it is worth noting that although some phonemes of the

insular Madeiran dialect of Portuguese differ from those of Standard Lisbon

Portuguese, particularly the vowels, there are several similarities (Pap 53).
The comments offered by the I.P.A. on the phonemes of Lisbon Portuguese

are therefore largely applicable to Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad.

Most of the I.P.A.’s comments on allophonic variation in consonants

in particular apply to Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad. These include the

following points: voiceless plosives are aspirated; the alveolar plosives are

generally more dental than alveolar106; the alveolar lateral is dark before

consonants and in final position, but medium to clear before vowels, and the

voiced alveolar nasal becomes the voiced velar nasal before the velar plosives.

However, according to the I.P.A., the voiced plosives in Standard Portuguese

generally become fricatives except initially, but this is not attested in

Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad.

Pardal d’Andrade highlights six peculiarities of Madeiran Portuguese

that distinguish it from the standard Lisbon variety and other varieties. That

scholar notes that

Provavelmente, o fenómeno mais característico é a palatalização do /l/

.... Outros fenómenos ... são, por exemplo, a “ditongação do /i/”
tónico, a “ditongação do /u/” tónico, o desaparecimento de /i/s átonos,
a monotongação do ditongo escrito ‘-ões,’ a anteriorização da vogal
nasal do ditongo escrito ‘-ão.’107 (17)

All of the above is evident in the speech of native Madeiran Portuguese

speakers in Trinidad. However, only one of these six features was clearly

106
The term ‘alveolar’ will be used throughout, with the understanding that the actual,
characteristic phonetic production of these sounds is somewhat closer to dental than alveolar.
107
“The most characteristic phenomenon is probably the palatalisation of the [l] ....
Other phenomena ... are, for example, the diphthongisation of the [i] in stressed position, the
diphthongisation of the [u] in stressed position, the disappearance of [i] in unstressed position,
the monophthongisation of the diphthong written ‘-ões,’ the backing of the nasal vowel in the
diphthong written ‘-ão.’”
found in the data elicited from creole semi-speakers of Madeiran Portuguese.

This is the palatalisation of the alveolar lateral, and this will be discussed

further on in this chapter. Two other features, namely the disappearance of [h\

in unstressed position and the monophthongisation of the diphthong written ‘-

ões’ were sometimes noted.

Rogers, whose data samples were based on the dialect of “illiterate

people,” or “people whose little schooling has had no great influence on their

normal speech” (252–53), generally notes that the insular dialects “differ

but very little from standard Lusitanian” (237 fn. 3). That researcher

also notes that “there appear to be eight phonetic characteristics of the dialect

of Madeira:

1. The substitution of the diphthong öi [N] for standard Lusitanian

stressed i, as in bonito.
2. The substitution of ü [x]for standard stressed u, as in escudo.
3. The substitution of a back a tending toward open ó for standard
stressed á as in casa.
4. The use of the group âua for standard ôa, as in pessoa.
5. The addition of a final a to certain stressed final vowels, as in
vou, which rimes (sic) with standard boa.
6. Very frequent diphthongization, as in mês, pronounced muês.
7. The substitution of the palatal nasal (sic) consonant lh for
standard l, as in vila.
8. The employment of a special melody.

The only one of these eight characteristic features heard among the Madeirans

in Trinidad was the substitution of the palatal lateral for the alveolar lateral

and vice-versa.

The consonant phoneme inventory of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad

is similar to that found in continental, insular and Brazilian Portuguese (cf.

Rogers, Freitas, and Mattoso Câmara Jr., respectively). The phonemes are

summarised in the following table:

Table 7

Contrastive Chart of the Consonant Phonemes

of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad

Labial Alveolar Palatal Post-

Palatal108
Plosives
vl. o s j
vd. a c f
Fricatives
vl. e r R
Vd. u z Y
Nasals l m Ù
0/8
Rhotics Q z
Laterals k ≥
Approximants v i

‘Rhotics’ is the term used by Ladefoged and Maddieson to group all

‘r-sounds,’ including trills, flaps and approximants (215). The Summer

Institute of Linguistics (SIL) uses the term ‘vibrants’ not as a technical term

(in English)110 but as a convenient cover label to group trills and flaps. These

sounds are grouped together on the basis of similarity in manner of

108
Both the palatal and post-palatal could be further summarised into post-alveolar or
‘posterior,’ for reasons of symmetry and economy, but it is felt that this is the more
appropriate approach for the two consonant charts (tables 7 and 8), which are different but
overlapping.

109 The symbol [z] is used in place of the regular IPA symbol [Œ] for the voiced uvular
fricative.
110
The equivalent term, vibrantes, is widely used in Portuguese as a technical term (cf.
Freitas 37, Entwistle 326 and Weiss 38).
articulation, while the alveolar approximant (or continuant), [ß], is grouped

with the other central approximants (Chapman et al 40). For Trinidadian

Portuguese informants, the alveolar approximant of English has become the

substitute for both the Portuguese tap [Q] and fricative [z]. Ladefoged and

Maddieson’s terminology is therefore more useful to this particular analysis of

language shift and attrition, since the term ‘rhotics’ refers to all ‘r-sounds,’

and includes the Portuguese tap and trill, now lost to Luso-Trinidadian semi-

speakers of Portuguese,111 as well as the English approximant.

The following table summarises the phonemes of the Portuguese of

Luso-Trinidadian semi-speakers. The main differences between this

inventory and the one above include the loss of the palatal nasal, of the palatal

lateral, and the loss of the vibrants and their replacement by the English

alveolar continuant. Although the palatal fricatives are included here, their

appearance was not consistent among all semi-speakers who showed

widespread idiosyncratic variation.

111
See table 8 on the following page.
 Table 8

Contrastive Chart of the Consonant Phonemes

of Semi-speaker Trinidadian Portuguese

Labial Alveolar Palatal Post-Palatal

Plosives
vl. o s j
vd. a c f
Fricatives
vl. e r R
vd. u z Y
Nasals l m M
Rhotics ß
Laterals k
Approximants v i

The following formational statements, or technical descriptions, of

Portuguese phonemes are based on the data garnered during the course of

research. Where possible, at least two examples are given for each phoneme

and each variant.

Note that the semi-vowels [i] and [v] could also be interpreted as /h /

and / t / respectively, largely for the sake of Occam’s Razor, or the principle

of economy. In the data, they were only found to occur following vowels

(both oral and nasal) as off-glides. The first vowel in a vowel sequence is

therefore given greater prominence. The palatal semi-vowel follows / d / and /

` /, as in cadeira and mãe, and the labio-velar follows the same vowels, as in

adeus and pão. However, following standard Portuguese transcription (cf.

Collins), they are included in the above chart as phonemes separate from their

vowel counterparts, but do not necessitate separate formational statements.

The Obstruents:

/o/ voiceless labial plosive phoneme realised as:

ZoG\ voiceless aspirated bilabial plosive, which occurs in word-

initial position and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
147. /o`fiv/ ZoG`fiv\ ‘bread’
151. /o`ƒsQ`fiv/ ZoG™ƒsGQ`fiv\ ‘boss, employer’

Word-medial position
179. /r`ƒo`st/ Zr™ƒoG`sGt§\ ‘shoe’
188. /ƒrno`/ ZƒrnoG™\ ‘soup’

/a/ voiced labial plosive phoneme realised as:

[a\ voiced bilabial plosive, which occurs in word-initial position

and in word-medial position, as in:

Word-initial position
17. /a`j`ƒ≥`v/ [√a`jG™ƒ≥`v\ ‘(dried) cod’
20. /ƒad(r`fiv/ Zƒad(mr`fiv\ ‘blessing’

Word-medial position
50. /rdƒank`/ Zrdƒank™\ ‘onion’
132. /ƒmnaQh/ ZƒmnaQh\ ‘noble’

/s/ voiceless alveolar plosive phoneme realised as:

 ZsG\ voiceless aspirated alveolar plosive, which occurs in word-

initial position, word-medial and word-final position as in:

Word-initial position

199. /ƒsht/ ZƒsGht\ ‘uncle’

203. /sQdR/ ZsGQdR\ ‘three’

Word-medial position
161. /ƒoQdst/ ZƒoGQdsGt§\ ‘black’
197. /ƒs hfi s`/ ZƒsG h (msG™§\ ‘type of wine’

Word- final position

185. /rDs/ ZrDsG\ ‘seven’
200. /snƒl`s/ ZsGnƒl`sG\ ‘tomato’

(N.B. The last examples are uncertain, since some native speakers suggest

that there are vowels in final position in these examples above. Since the

close front vowel phoneme does not appear to have a voiceless variant as do

most of the other vowel phonemes, it may be that there is an underlying

voiceless close front vowel in that position. This would be logical and

symmetrical. See below.)

/c/ voiced alveolar plosive phoneme realised as:

[c\ voiced alveolar plosive, which occurs in word-initial position

and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
74. /chƒÙdiQt/ ZchƒÙdiQt\ ‘money’
75. /ƒcniY/ ZƒcniR\ ‘two’

Word-medial position
77. /dfioQdƒf`ct/ ZdfimoGQdƒf`ct\ ‘clerk’
145. /o`ƒcQhÙt/ ZoG™ƒcQhÙt\ ‘godfather’
/j/ voiceless post-palatal plosive phoneme realised as:

ZjG\ voiceless velar plosive, which occurs in word-initial position

and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
35. /j`ƒcdiQ`/ ZjG™ƒcdiQ™\ ‘chair’
172. /ƒjv`(ct/ ZƒjGv`(mct\ ‘when’

Word-medial position
34. /j`ƒj`v/ ZjG™ƒjG`v\ ‘cocoa’
53. /ƒrhfijt/ Zƒrh(MjGt§\ ‘five’

/f/ voiced post-palatal plosive phoneme realised as:

Zf\ voiced velar plosive, which occurs in word-initial and word-

medial as in:

Word-initial position
96. /ƒf`zet/ Zƒf`Œet7\ ‘fork’
250. /ƒfnlDY/ ZƒfnlDY\ ‘Gomes, surname’

Word-medial position
112. /l`(ƒsdif`/ Zl`(msGdif™\ ‘butter’
143. /nƒQDfnfiiY/ ZnƒQDfnfiiR\ ‘thyme’

/e/ voiceless labial fricative phoneme realised as:

Ze\ voiceless labio-dental fricative, which occurs in word-initial

position and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
91. /ƒeh≥`/ Zƒeh≥™\ ‘daughter’
94. /ƒeQhst/ ZƒeQhsGt§\ ‘fried’
 Word-medial position
36. /j`ƒeD/ ZjG™ƒeD\ ‘coffee’
216. /`ƒeåfiyt/ Z™ƒeåfimyt\ ‘Affonso, surname’

/u/ voiced labial fricative phoneme realised as:

[u\ voiced labio-dental fricative, which occurs in word-initial

position and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
211. /ƒuhÙt/ ZƒuhÙt\ ‘wine’
214. /unƒuå/ Zunƒuå\ ‘granny’

Word-medial position
12. /`ƒut/ Z™ƒut\ ‘grandfather’

Word-final position
62. /ƒjnu/ ZƒjGnu\ ‘kale’

/r/ voiceless alveolar fricative phoneme realised as:

Zr\ voiceless alveolar fricative, which occurs in word-initial

position, word-medial and word-final position as in:

Word-initial position
183. /rDƒÙåQ`/ ZrDƒÙåQ™\ ‘lady’
185. /rDs/ ZrDsG\ ‘seven’

Word-medial position
10. /`rnrh`ƒr`fiv/ Z™rnrh™ƒr`fiv\ ‘association’

Word-final position
106. /l`cdiƒQDmr/ Zl™cdiƒQDmr\ ‘Madeiran’
/y/ voiced alveolar fricative phoneme realised as:
 Zy\ voiced alveolar fricative, which occurs in word-medial position

as in:

14. /`utƒyhÙt/ Z™utƒyhÙt\ ‘grandpa’

121. /ƒldy`/ Zƒldy™\ ‘table’

Note: Although [y] is found in initial position in Portuguese words such as

zona, zangado and zero, none of the data elicited contained this phoneme in

word-initial position, and therefore no examples could be provided here.

/R/ voiceless palatal fricative phoneme realised as:

ZR\ voiceless alveo-palatal fricative, which occurs in word-initial,

word-medial and word-final position, as in:

Word-initial position
52. /RnƒQhrt/ ZRnƒQhrt§\ ‘spicy sausage’
315. /R`ƒuhDz/ ZR™ƒuhDŒ\ ‘Xavier, surname’

Word-medial position
21. /ƒahRj`/ ZƒahRj™\ ‘type of card game’
104. /l`ƒR`c`/ Zl™ƒR`c™\ ‘hatchet’
227. /j`ƒl`Rt/ Zj™ƒl`Rt§\ ‘Camacho,
surname’
Word-final position
90. /ƒeDRs`Y/ [ƒeDRs`R] ‘feasts’

/Y/ voiced palatal fricative phoneme realised as:

ZY\ voiced alveo-palatal fricative, which occurs in word-initial

position and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
256. /Y`zƒch /( ZY™Œƒc h (M\ ‘Jardim, surname’
 260. / Yt`ƒjh /( ZYt`ƒjG h (m\ ‘Joaquin, surname’

Word-medial position
99. /hƒfQdY`/ ZhƒfQdY™\ ‘church

The Sonorants

/l/ labial nasal phoneme realised as:

Zl\ voiced bilabial nasal, which occurs in word-initial position and

word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
107. /l`ƒcQhÙ`/ Zl™ƒcQhÙ™\ ‘godmother’
109. /l`k`ƒr`c`Y/ Zl`k™ƒr`c™R\ ‘floats, doughnuts’

Word-medial position
162. /ƒoQhl`/ ZƒoGQhl™\ ‘cousin’
169. /oQnƒlDr`Y/ ZoGQnƒlDr™R\ ‘vows’

/m/ alveolar nasal phoneme realised as:

Zm\ voiced alveolar nasal, which occurs in word-initial position and

word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
133. /ƒmnis/ ZƒmnisG\ ‘night’
137. /ƒmåut/ Zƒmåut\ ‘new’

Word-medial position
152. /odƒjdmt/ ZoGdƒjGdmt\ ‘little boy’
154. /ohfiohƒmDk`/ ZoG h (loG h (ƒmDk™\ ‘anise/christophene’

/Ù/ palatal nasal phoneme realised as:

 ZÙ\ voiced palatal nasal, which occurs in word-medial position, as

in:

74. /chƒÙdiQt/ ZchƒÙdiQt\ ‘money’

95. /f`ƒkhÙ`/ Zf™ƒkhÙ™\ ‘chicken’

/Q/ alveolar rhotic phoneme realised as:

ZQ\ voiced alveolar tap, which occurs in word-medial position:

Word-medial position, post-consonantally (consonant clusters)

32. /ƒaQn`Y/ ZƒaQn™R\ ‘biscuits’
94. /ƒeQhst/ ZƒeQhsGt§\ ‘fried’

Word-medial position, intervocalically

116. /l`QhƒjhÙ`R/ Z√l`QhƒjGhÙ™R\ ‘sissy’
164. /oQhl`ƒuDQ`/ ZoGQhl`ƒuDQ™\ ‘spring’

/z/ post-palatal rhotic phoneme realised as:

/Π/ voiced uvular fricative, which occurs in word-initial position,

word-medial position, and word-final position as in:

Word-initial position
176. /ƒz`at/ ZƒŒ`at\ ‘buttocks’
177. /ƒz`itY/ ZƒŒ`itR\ ‘damn’ (in
expression raios de
partem)
Word-medial position, intervocalically
195. /ƒsDz`/ ZƒsGDŒ™\ ‘earth’

Word-medial position, pre-consonantally

46. /ƒj`zm/ ZƒjG`Œm\ ‘meat’
96. /ƒf`zet/ Zƒf`Œet\ ‘fork
Word-final position
56. /jnƒ≥Dz/ ZjGnƒ≥DŒ\ ‘spoon’
113. /l`z/ Zl`Œ\ ‘sea’
/k/ alveolar lateral phoneme with variants:

Zk\ voiced alveolar lateral, which occurs in syllable-initial position,

as in:

102. /k`ƒohÙ`/ Zk™ƒoGhÙ™\ ‘grotto’

103. /kdis/ ZkdisG\ ‘milk’
208. /u`ƒkd(s/ Zu™ƒkdfimsG\ ‘valiant’
60. /jn(rtƒk`ct/ ZjGn(mrtƒk`ct\ ‘consulate’

Z≈\ voiced velarised alveolar lateral, which occurs in syllable-final

position, as in:

118. /lDk/ ZlD≈\ ‘honey’

16. /`ƒytk/ Z™ƒyt≈\ ‘blue’
41. /ƒj`kct/ ZƒjG`≈ct\ ‘broth,’ as in caldo
verde
44. /j`kuhƒmhRs`Y/ ZjG`≈uhƒmhRs`R\ ‘Calvinists’

/≥/ palatal lateral phoneme realised as:

Z≥\ voiced palatal lateral, which occurs in word-medial position

5. /ƒ`≥tR/ Zƒ`≥tR\ ‘garlic’

122. /ƒlh≥t/ Zƒlh≥t\ ‘cornmeal’

Like the phoneme [y], Z≥\ is found in initial position in the Portuguese word

lhe. However, none of the data elicited contained this phoneme in word-initial

position, and therefore no examples could be provided here.

Vowels

According to the International Phonetic Association, the front and

back vowels are generally cardinal, except for the open front vowel, but

lowered varieties are used before the velarised [≈\. The open front vowel is

generally Z`\, but a back variety is used before the dark [≈\. Unstressed or

atonic Zt\ is generally voiceless especially in final position and when next to

aspirated consonants. It was noted that this was the only voiceless vowel

found.

As the I.P.A. notes, the “when a nasalised vowel precedes a consonant,

a very short homorganic nasal consonant is generally interpolated; thus, a

narrow transcription of [ud(st-måQs™\ stands for [ud(mst§-måQs™§\…” (23). Post-

vocalic nasal consonants in Portuguese orthography generally have no

consonantal value. The problem of nasalisation in vowels, a prominent feature

of the language, is handled here by including five nasalised vowels in the

phonemic inventory. Another possibility is to posit the underlying existence

of an archiphoneme N (which has diachronic value, and shows the evolution

of Portuguese from Latin). This would reduce the number of vowel

phonemes. In that case, a vowel followed by a nasal would always be

nasalised (v + N = v(). It was ultimately decided to follow traditional

synchronic analyses of Portuguese for the sake of ease of transcription and

readability (cf. Coutinho 100, and also Freitas, Entwistle, and Elcock). It was

also noted that in the whole process of language death, nasalisation of vowels

was consistently lost, even before nasal consonants.

Because of the difficulties involved in eliciting and transcribing data, it

is important to note that the table does not reflect the far more complex vowel

system of Portuguese in general (cf. Freitas’ treatment of the vowel system of

the São Vicente dialect in Madeira as a particular case study). The central

vowels, for example, were either not attested, or not clearly conveyed by the

informant and the very regular schwa was not found to be a separate phoneme

in the data, but an allophone of Z`\.

Despite heavy vocalic variation and lack of clarity in the production of

some of the vowels of Madeiran informants, in particular the mid vowels, the

basic vowel phoneme inventory of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad was also

found to be similar to that of continental and insular Portuguese (cf. Freitas,

and Rogers). The phonemes are summarised in the following table:

Table 9
Contrastive Chart of the Vowel Phonemes
of Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad

Front Back
Close h hfi t tfi
Close-Mid d dfi n nfi
Open-Mid D å
Open ` `fi

By way of contrast, table 10 summarises the vowel phonemes of the

Portuguese of Luso-Trinidadian semi-speakers. The phoneme inventory is

again reduced, and in the case of the vowels, all the nasal vowels are lost. To

retain nasality, the oral vowels are usually followed by a fully pronounced

nasal consonant.

It was also noted that there was a great deal of variation in the close-
mid and open-mid vowels, and that the two front mid vowels were often

interchangeable, as were the two back mid vowels. Indeed, it was not always

clear which were which, and informants were asked to repeat the examples

several times for the sake of clarity. (See footnote 6.)

Table 10
Contrastive Chart of the Vowel Phonemes
of Semi-speaker Trinidadian Portuguese

Front Back
Close h t
Close-Mid d n
Open-Mid D å
Open `

The Vowels

/h/ oral close front vowel phoneme realised as:

Zh\ voiced oral close front unrounded vowel which occurs in word-

initial, word-medial position and word-final position, as in:

Word-initial position
99. /hƒfQdY`/ ZhƒfQdY™\ ‘church’
100. /hlnzƒs`k/ ZhlnŒƒsG`≈\ ‘immortal’

Word-medial position
73. /ƒch`/ Zƒch™\ ‘day’
175. /jdƒQhc`/ ZjGdƒQhc™\ ‘dear’ (in
expression
‘querida Maria’)
Word-final position
8. /`ƒjh/ Z™ƒjGh\ ‘here’
186. /ƒrtaQh/ ZƒrtaQh\ ‘over’

/ hfi / nasalised close front unrounded vowel realised as:

 Zhfi\ voiced nasalised close front unrounded vowel which occurs in

word-medial and word final position, as in:

Word-medial position
154. /ohfiohƒmDk`/ ZoG h l( oG h (ƒmDk™\ ‘anise/christophene’
m
197. /ƒs hfi s`/ ZƒsG h ( sG™§\ ‘type of wine’

Word-final position
256. /Y`zƒc h/( ZY™Œƒch (M\ ‘Jardim, surname’

/d/ oral close-mid front vowel phoneme realised as:

[d\ voiced oral close-mid front unrounded vowel which occurs in

word-initial and word-medial position, as in:

Word-initial position
81. /ƒdv/ Zƒdv\ ‘I’

Word-medial position
99. /hƒfQdY`/ ZhƒfQdY™\ ‘church
152. /odƒjdmt/ ZodƒjGdmt\ ‘little boy’

/ dfi / nasalised close-mid front vowel phoneme realised as:

[dfi\ voiced nasalised close-mid front unrounded vowel which

occurs in word-initial and word-medial position, as in:

Word-initial position
77. /d(oQdƒf`ct/ Zd(loQdƒf`ct]112 ‘clerk’

Word-medial position:

112
At first this nasalised front vowel was perceived to be open-mid, rather than close-
mid. However, upon further investigation, it turned out to be close-mid, but in variation, can
be more open than in other dialects, as in Brazilian and continental European Portuguese
dialects. See pages 265–66.
 71. /chƒydfiaQt/ Zchƒyd(laQt\ ‘December’

/D/ oral open-mid front vowel phoneme realised as:

[D\ voiced oral open-mid front unrounded vowel, which occurs in

word-medial and word-final position, as in:

Word-medial position
118. /lDk/ ZlD≈\ ‘honey’

Word-final position
36. /j`ƒeD/ ZjG™ƒeD\ ‘coffee’

No examples of this vowel in word-initial position were found.

/`/ oral open front vowel phoneme with variants:

Z`\ voiced oral open front unrounded vowel, which occurs in

stressed position as in:

Word-initial position
3. /ƒ`fv`/ Zƒ`fv™\ ‘water’
4. /`fv`zƒcd(s/ Z™fv`Œƒcd(;sG\ ‘spirit, rum’

Word-medial position
104. /l`R`c`/ Zl™ƒR`c™\ ‘hatchet’
100. /hlnzƒs`k/ ZhlnŒƒsG`≈\ ‘immortal’

Z™\ voiced oral close-mid central unrounded vowel which occurs in

unstressed position as in:

Word-initial position
8. /`ƒjh/ Z™ƒjGh\ ‘here’

Word-medial position
9. /ƒ`zl`Y/ Zƒ`Œl™R\ ‘arms’
 Word-final position
99. /hƒfQdY`/ ZhƒfQdY™\ ‘church’

/ `(/ nasal open front vowel phoneme realised as:

Z`(\ voiced nasal open front unrounded vowel which occurs in

word-initial position as in:

Word-initial position
7. /ƒ`(c`/ Zƒ`(mc™\ ‘walk’

No examples were found in other positions, except in the diphthongs

[`(i] and [`(v].

/t/ oral close back vowel phoneme with variants:

Zt\ voiced oral close back rounded vowel which occurs in word-

initial, word-medial and word-final position, as in:

Word-initial position
138. /t/ Zt\ ‘the’ (masculine
definite article)

Word-medial position
16. /`ƒytk/ Z™ƒyt≈\ ‘blue’

Word-final position113

113
This may be a case of free variation, since some persons pronounced these words
with an [n] in final position. The majority, however, used [t]. It is also a case of [n] being
realised as [t] in unstressed position, as in other dialects of Portuguese. In the case of the
stressed Zn\ of avô becoming Zt\, and in other words such as piolho, sobre and azeitona, cf.
 12. /`ƒut/ Z™ƒut\ ‘grandfather’
173. /ƒjv`sQt/ Zƒjv`sGQt\ ‘four’

Zt§\ voiceless oral close back rounded vowel which occurs in word-

final position following a voiceless obstruent, as in:

52. /RnƒQhrt/ ZRnƒQhrt§\ ‘spicy sausage’

179. /r`ƒo`st/ Zr™ƒoG`sGt§\ ‘shoe’

/ t( / nasalised close back vowel phoneme realised as:

[t(\ voiced nasalised close back rounded vowel which occurs in word-

initial and word-medial position:

Word-initial position
205. /t(/ Zt(\ ‘one, a’

Word-medial position
127. /ƒlth(st/ [ƒlth(sGt§\ ‘very’

/n/ oral close-mid back vowel phoneme realised as:

Zn\ oral close-mid back rounded vowel which occurs in word-

initial position and word-medial position as in:

Word-initial position
141. /ƒnist/ ZƒnisGt§\ ‘eight’
143. /nƒQDfnfiiR/ ZnƒQDfnfiiR\ ‘thyme’

Word-medial position
56. /jnƒ≥Dz/ ZjGnƒ≥DŒ\ ‘spoon’
57. /ƒjnlt/ ZƒjGnlt\ ‘how’

Entwistle’s comment on the unique Madeiran pronunciations of flor as ‘flur’ and amor as
‘amur’ (312).
/ n( / nasalised close-mid back vowel phoneme realised as:

Zn(\ nasalised close-mid back rounded vowel which occurs in word-

medial position as in:

60. /jn(rtƒk`ct/ ZjGnfi;rtƒk`cn\ ‘consulate’

125. /ln(s/ Zlnfi;sG\ ‘mount, hill’

No examples of this vowel in word-initial position were found.

/å/ oral open-mid back vowel phoneme realised as:

Zå\ voiced oral open-mid back rounded vowel which occurs in

word-initial, word-medial and word-final position, as in:

Word-initial position:
142. /ƒå≥`/ Zƒå≥™\ ‘look’
144. /ƒåut/ Zƒåut\ ‘egg’

Word-medial position
134. /ƒmår`/ Zƒmår™\ ‘our’
137. /ƒmåut/ Zƒmåut\ ‘new’
Word-final position
13. /`ƒuå/ Z™ƒuå\ ‘grandmother’

Analysis of Phonological Change in Trinidad

In discussing language shift, or language adoption, Alleyne notes that

it is axiomatic of all such change arising out of language contact that

there will be transmissions or continuities from the native language of
the people undergoing linguistic change. There has never been any
community known that has moved from one native language to
another without there having been such transmissions and
(dis)continuities. (138)
The pronunciation of several of the lexical items differs from generation to

generation. When presented with a word-list, consisting of words known to

all three generations, the bilingual Madeirans often chose very careful

pronunciations of these words in the context of a formal interview.114 These

careful pronunciations were probably seldom heard by their descendants in

rapid and natural conversation, and if they were, only for emphasis or in rare

teaching sessions. The second generation produced forms recognisably

similar to those of their parents, whether or not the latter ‘approved’ of the

former’s representation of these forms. Finally, the third generation produced

forms relatively close to those of the second generation, but quite distinct

from those of the first and not always recognisable to the Madeiran informants

themselves.

Tamis notes that among the Greeks in Australia, lexicon and

phonology are highly subject to outside influence, and the morpho-syntax of

Greek in Australia appears “more conservative and resistant to change” and is

likely to survive longer (484). While this may also be true for the Madeiran-

born informants, the reverse, however, is found to be true of the second and

third generations, among whom only lexicon, with accompanying

phonological features, have survived in their memory. The decayed state of

the language among members of the diffuse Portuguese community of

Trinidad and Tobago is clearly visible across a three-way comparison of the

phonology of the surviving lexical items among the second and third

generations. This study of the phonological decomposition of Madeiran

114
See appendix C, Part II, Questions 1–7.
Portuguese has been undertaken to demonstrate language loss at the level of

phonology in particular. It will also show that although all three generations

easily recall earlier stages of the language’s vitality, the language here is well

and truly dead with little or no chance of revival among these nor successive

generations.

In any language death situation where culture contact and/or clash is a

major factor, the salient features of phonological change across generations

include widespread syllabic reduction, phonemic mergers and reduction of

allomorphy, or more simply, the introduction of new elements and the loss

and realignment of old elements. These sound changes are largely the result

of the effect of one language or more on another, in this case English on

Portuguese, and are also due to what Cook refers to as a “retarded process of

language acquisition” (236). Such sound changes result in the disruption or

modification of the phonological system until the system is gradually lost.

It is generally accepted that most diachronic change begins as the

struggle of synchronic variants. It must be noted that in Madeira there is a

good deal of social and regional variation (“from parish to parish,” according

to informant B15). Some of the processes of transgenerational sound

variation in Madeiran Portuguese in Trinidad began with synchronic variation

in Madeira well before emigration and have resulted in apparent diachronic

phonological change. For example, apocope and syncope are two very

common processes in European Portuguese. The high back vowel [t\ is

generally voiceless in word-final position and when adjacent to aspirated

consonants, as noted above, and may appear to be completely omitted. As a

result, the word preto ZƒoGQdsGt§\, was given as ZoßhsG\ by a semi-speaker (see

other examples under apocope, below). Vowels are often subject to

suppression, depending on word position or whether they face elision by a

following word. An example of vowel suppression is found in the name

Maria, [l`ƒQh`\, often pronounced [l™ƒQh`\ and also [l_ƒQh`]. The vowel Z`]

in the first syllable is reduced to the schwa which is then completely elided,

leaving a syllabic nasal in word-initial position.

In certain Madeiran dialects, there is a general tendency towards loss

of palatalisation of nasals and laterals in specific environments. The

substitution of the alveolar lateral for the palatal lateral is fairly widespread,

and sometimes the velar nasal alternates with the palatal nasal. The palatal

lateral and nasal are unknown in English, and many creole Portuguese

therefore naturally opted for the non-palatal variants. Where the sound system

of the language has been influenced by Trinidadian English, this tendency has

been further extended to the alveolar versus the palatal fricatives.

The available data, which include surnames and some first names,

have been analysed under the following headings, and these represent the

most striking features of language atrophy in this study:

A. Consonantal Variation

1. Loss of palatalisation
2. Lambdacism
3. Other

B. Vocalic Variation
 1. Change in diphthong
2. Monophthongisation and compensatory lengthening
3. Denasalisation
4. Vowel Changes
5. Elision
a. Syncope
b. Apocope
6. Other

Consonantal Variation

Loss of Palatalisation

This feature is widespread and affects laterals, nasals and fricatives.

With regard to the laterals, Rogers notes that there is fluctuation

between the palatal lateral and the alveolar lateral (“Insular Portuguese

Pronunciation 239), as does Entwistle (312). This phenomenon may also be

described as the de-palatalisation of the lateral: “o lh tende a despalatizar-se

quando se não nota a presença da referida semi-vogal Zh\”115 (Andrade 21). In

Trinidad, this is especially seen in the pronunciation of surnames, as well as

bacalhau (‘cod’) and milho (‘corn’). While there is idiolectal variation, a

general rule for this feature is as follows: the palatalisation of the alveolar

lateral occurs before the close front vowel or its semi-vowel equivalent.

[C ]
[+ lateral] /
[+ coronal] > [- coronal] / [- coronal]
[- high] [+ high] / [+ high]

This phenomenon of the alternation between [≥\ and [k\ that began in Madeira

continued in Trinidad, with loss of palatalisation as the ultimate result.

115
“The ‘lh’ (palatal lateral) tends to become de-palatalized in the absence of the semi-
vowel [i].”
 Example 1: The palatal lateral

Z≥\ > Zk\

Group A Group B Group C

[√a`jG™ƒ≥`v\ > [√a`jG`ƒ≥`v ~ √a`jGdkƒi`v\> [√a`jG`ƒk`v\

17. /a`j`ƒ≥`v/ bacalhau (‘salted or dried codfish’)

Changes:–

(i) substitution of alveolar lateral [k\ for palatal lateral [≥\;

(ii) vowel alternates between [`\ and [d\.

Loss of palatalisation also occurs in the same word in a compound,

pastéis de bacalhau (‘cod cakes’), and in surnames such as Carvalho, Coelho

and Magalhães.

One informant was heard to say Zƒnik`] for Zƒå≥™\ ‘look,’ and this is

another example of depalatalisation of the palatal lateral. It could also be that

the phone Z≥\ was interpreted as the sequence of [ki] and then underwent

metathesis to become Zik\-

The following example contains evidence of the loss of the palatal

nasal.

Example 2a: The palatal nasal

[Ù\ > [m\

 Group A [√jG`ŒmƒuhÙ`ƒc`≥tR ~ √jG`Œm™ƒuhÙ`ƒc`≥tY] >
Group B [√jG`QmƒuhÙ™ƒc`≥tY ~ √jG`ßm™ƒuhm`ƒc`≥™Y] >
Group C Z√jG`kƒuHm™ƒc`Y]

47. /ƒj`zmƒuhÙ`-ƒc`≥tR/ carne vinha-d’alhos (‘garlic pork’)

Changes:–

(i) substitution of alveolar nasal [m\ for palatal nasal [Ù\;

(ii) the palatal lateral undergoes syncopation;

(iii) the continuant Zß\ and ultimately the alveolar lateral Zk\ are

substituted for the uvular fricative ZŒ\ (note that [ß\ does not occur

post-vocalically and syllable-finally in the non-rhotic TE dialect, so

any retention of an ‘r’ sound is considered to be an approximation

of both the alveolar tap and the uvular fricative).

(iv) the alveopalatal fricative alternates between its voiced and

voiceless variants in final position, and ultimately remains voiced.

(v) the lateral is also de-palatalised.

Loss of palatalisation in the nasal also occurs in surnames such as

Cunha, Farinha, Pinheiro, and Sardinha.

Example 2b: The palatal nasal

[Ù\ > [M\

Several names and words with the palatal nasal in the last syllable, such as

Rosinha, Mariazinha, madrinha, casinha, lapinha, avozinho, padrinho,

estuporzinho, and beijinho were all pronounced by semi-speakers with the

velar nasal, such as ZßnƒyHM`], [l`ßh™ƒyHM`], [l`ƒcßHM`], [jG`ƒyHM`],

[k™ƒoGHM`], [`unƒyHM], [o`ƒcßHM\, [HRs™on߃yHM], and ZadiƒYHM\. It is possible

that this use of the velar nasal is characteristic of Madeiran Portuguese since

this feature is also found in Guyana.116

Example 3a: The alveopalatal fricative (voiced)

ZDY\ > Zy\

Group A Group B Group C

[ƒfnlDY\ > [fnlY\ > [fnly\

250. /ƒfnlDY/ Gomes (family name)

The same applies to the names Fernandes, Henriques, Mendes, Nunes, Pires,

Rodrigues and Sá Gomes, but Magalhães, while having lost the palatal lateral,

has retained the alveopalatal fricative in final position.

Example 3b: The alveopalatal fricative (voiced)

[Y\ > [y\

Group A Group B Group C

116
“Manniezing” is a nickname for Portuguese shop-keepers in Guyana (Menezes, The
Portuguese of Guyana 65).
 ZjQtY\ > [jQty\> [jßty\

237. /jQtY/ Cruz (family name)

The same is true for the name Ferraz.

The family name Luz ZktY\, however, remains the same in

pronunciation. One family, with a remote Portuguese ancestor whose name

was originally de Luz or da Luz, now has its name spelt ‘de Luge’ [chktY\,

using ‘ge,’ the English orthographic representation of the voiced alveopalatal

fricative, as in the French loan-word ‘rouge.’

Example 4: The alveopalatal fricative (voiceless)

ZR\ > Zr\

Group A Group B Group C

[ƒr`(mstR\ > [ƒr`msnR\ > Zƒr`msnr\

305. /ƒr`(stY/ Santos (family name)

The same holds for the family name de Freitas.

Lambdacism

According to Hock, “the difference between ‘dental’ Zk\ and Zq\

generally is one of the last distinctions learned by children acquiring their first

language” (17). Holm also notes the Zq~k\ alternation in creole languages
(Pidgins and Creoles 92). In Trinidadian semi-speaker Portuguese, it appears

that the alternation between the ‘r’ sounds and [k\ (lambdacism) was one of

the possible effects of modification in child language acquisition in a language

loss situation, and is also a result of interference from English. In most cases,

the Portuguese uvular fricative [z\ was lost to the English Zß\, and ultimately

to the alveolar lateral Zk\ (lambdacism), as seen in the example below.

In Trinidad, Portuguese was the second language for many creole

Portuguese, rarely the first language. Portuguese makes a distinction between

the uvular fricative [Œ\ and the alveolar tap ZQ\, neither of which exists in

English. The Portuguese rhotics have both regularly been perceived as the

English rhotic [ß\. Both have now converged and have been replaced by the

English alveolar frictionless continuant or approximant [ß\. There is therefore

now no distinction between the pronunciation of the names Ferreira [edƒŒdiQ™\

and Pereira ZodƒQdiQ™\, both of which are now pronounced with the English

Zß\ in the second and third syllables.

Example: Lambdacism

ZŒ\ > [Q\ ~ Zß\ > Zk\

Group A [√jG`ŒmƒuhÙ`ƒc`≥tR ~ √jG`Œm™ƒuhÙ`ƒc`≥tY] >

Group B [√jG`QmƒuhÙ™ƒc`≥tY ~ √jG`ßm™ƒuhm`ƒc`≥™Y] >
Group C Z√jG`kƒuHm™ƒc`Y]

47. /ƒj`zmƒuhÙ`-ƒc`≥tR/ carne vinha-d’alhos (‘garlic pork’)

 Changes:–

(i) consonantal variation develops by the second generation - the

palatal lateral [≥\ alternates with the alveolar lateral [k\ and the

complete loss of the palatal lateral begins;

(ii) by the third generation, there is also loss of juncture and inability

to separate lexemes.

With reference to (ii), note that other examples of loss of juncture included the

preserved or fossilised pluralised forms of certain Portuguese words, with the

result that the singular forms are either unknown or are infrequently used (cf.

Holm 97–98). Examples include broas, cebolas de escabeche, malassadas,

orégões and tremoços.

Other

Changes in Surnames

Many Portuguese patronymics in Trinidad have retained the original

Portuguese orthography. It appears that this preservation was not dependent

on the degree of literacy of the immigrants. It is worth noting that in Madeira

and the rest of Portugal, some names have more than one accepted spelling.

Some names may have been changed by non-Portuguese clerks in Trinidad

because of their difficulty in pronouncing the original Portuguese names, and

in matching what was heard to what was written. In Trinidad, the majority,

however, have been phonetically altered by speakers unfamiliar with the

language to the extent that some are no longer recognisably Portuguese.

Creole bearers of Portuguese surnames have usually adopted local

pronunciations of their names and today many are unaware of the original

meanings and pronunciations.

Orthographic changes in Portuguese surnames in Trinidad are

important for phonological consideration. Generally speaking, few spelling

changes were introduced into Portuguese family names. Names tended to be

pronounced according to the patterns of English spelling (and Spanish and

French where such coincided). However, where orthographic variants were

produced, changes such as the removal of diacritics, including the tilde and

acute accents, reflected a loss of nasalisation (discussed above) or change in

stress or vowel, respectively. Other changes were created by persons familiar

with English in an attempt (a) to preserve the original native pronunciation of

the name (see Comach below), or (b) to anglicise or hispanicise the name,

completely or partly, while still retaining close similarity with the original

form.

Some names have been anglicised, such as Martin from Martins,117

John from João, which was considered difficult to pronounce, and Francis,

from Francisco. In this case, such names ending in the unstressed ‘o’

(representing [t\ in Portuguese) often dropped that final vowel, which in

Portuguese is usually de-voiced in word-final position following a voiceless

aspirated plosive, as noted above.

117
One informant reports that friends with the surname Martins were ridiculed as
having a ‘plural’ name. Evidently English names such as Richards and Roberts were not
recalled in the discussion.
 In Trinidad, Spanish and French were more widely known than

Portuguese. As a result, some Portuguese names that bore a spelling

resemblance to names in these languages, eventually became hispanicised or,

more rarely, gallicised. Spelling pronunciations are now much more common

than the original pronunciations.

Because of the perceived similarity between Spanish and Portuguese,

particularly at the orthographic level, some Portuguese names came to be

hispanicised because of existing parallel Spanish names, such as Diaz for Dias

(also thought to be spelt Dears or Days by non-Portuguese). Other Portuguese

names ending in ‘-es’ also became hispanicised and the ‘-es’ ending changed

to ‘-ez,’ for example, Fernandes~Fernandez, Gomes~Gomez,

Henriques~Henriquez, Mendes~Mendez,118 Nunes-Nunez, and

Rodrigues~Rodriguez. In certain cases, some of the earlier migrants adopted

the Spanish equivalents to their names, since these were better known. In the

case of the early Portuguese Protestants, inferior feelings caused some to want

to conceal their ethnic and religious background and ultimately language, and

this led to the adoption of Spanish equivalents, or in extreme cases to the

adoption of Scottish and/or English names.

Most families with the name Camacho [j`ƒl`Rt§ ~ j™ƒl`R\, with the

final vowel usually de-voiced or elided, now have their name pronounced

[j`ƒl`sÇRn\, since the ‘ch’ in both Spanish and English represents the affricate

118
One family by the name of Mendes has not changed the spelling of their name, but
the pronunciation is [lDmƒcDy].
ZsÇR\, while in Portuguese it represents the voiceless alveopalatal fricative ZR\.

One family from Guyana, however, has their name spelt ‘Comach’, in order to

retain the fricative ending, without the final vowel which is usually de-voiced,

and it is pronounced [jnƒl`R\ or [j™ƒl`R\. Pacheco is another such name

with the pronunciation change from ZR\ to [sÇR\.

Names beginning with the letter ‘j’ (representing ZY\ in Portuguese)

were invariably pronounced in the Spanish way, as [w\, or with the English

Zg\ as a substitute. Examples of such are Joaquin, which is pronounced

Zgv`ƒjGhm\ locally by some, and is anglicised to [ƒcÇYnjGHm] by others. José is

regularly pronounced Zgnƒrd\ instead of ZYnƒyD\ or ZYtƒyD\. The name Jardim

[Y™Œƒchfi\ ~ [Y`ŒƒchfiM\ is sometimes spelt Jardine to approximate the original

pronunciation. It is now usually pronounced [dÇY@ıƒchm\, and retains the close

front vowel. Other families preserve the Portuguese spelling of Jardim, but

the pronunciation is anglicised to [dÇY@ıƒcHl\, with the close-mid front vowel

in the second syllable.

The ‘ç’ or ‘c cedilla’ which represents Zr\ in Portuguese, presented

problems for English readers. The name Gonçalves [få(mr`kudY\ was changed

to Gonsalves in an effort to preserved the Zr\ sound, but is now usually

pronounced Zfåmƒy`kuy\. Names such as Mendonça and Lourenço retained

their original spelling, but are frequently spelled without the ‘c’ cedilla and
are frequently mispronounced as [lDmƒcåMjG`\ and ZknƒßDMjGn\ respectively.

Names such as dos Ramos and dos Santos are consistently

mistranslated as ‘two branches’ and ‘two saints,’ since several informants

think that dos is the Spanish for ‘two’ and are unaware that dos in Portuguese

is de plus the plural masculine definite article os.

Only one or two came to be gallicised in pronunciation because of

French names with the same spelling, such as Xavier because of the

orthography. In Portuguese orthography, the letter ‘x’ stands for [R\ as in the

distinctively Portuguese name Teixeira /sdiƒRdiQ`/. However, the name

Xavier, which is also French and known particularly in Roman Catholic

circles, is now pronounced à la française [ƒy`uhd\, instead of ZR`ƒuhDŒ\, as in

Portuguese.

Non-Portuguese frequently mistake d’Andrade, pronounced

Zc`mƒcq`c\, for a French surname, probably because of the well-known

French surname d’Abadie (also the name of a town in east Trinidad). (Unlike,

d’Andrade, however, the final vowel letter in Rezende, however, is

pronounced Zh] and the name is pronounced [ßHƒyDmch\).

In terms of English influence, in Trinidadian English, the dark lateral

[≈\ is not as heavily velarised in final position, such as in the Portuguese mel

[lD≈\ (‘honey’ or ‘molasses’ in the compound bolo de mel ). In Portuguese,

/k/ is dark before consonants, or syllable-finally, and medium to clear before

vowels, or syllable-initially. The name Cabral is pronounced ZjG™ƒaQ`≈\, but

in Trinidadian English, it is always pronounced ZjG`ƒaß`k\. This change is

more phonetic than phonemic, and the Trinidadian pronunciations of the name

Cabral are understood by native Portuguese speakers.

Some changes were made by descendants of Portuguese immigrants

who had lost completely touch with the Portuguese community. Many of

these people lived in remote areas, and had no knowledge of the Portuguese

language. An example of such a change is ‘Da Breo’ (also ‘Darbreau’), from

d’Abreu. In this case, loss of juncture, or a merging of word boundaries,

explains these pronunciations and spelling changes, as well as a lack of

understanding of Portuguese particles.

Use of particles varies from family to family, and some capitalise these

particles, others do not. In other cases, several unrelated families with the

name Silva distinguish themselves by the use of ‘de,’ ‘da,’ or nothing

preceding the name, with the result that the first two are listed alphabetically

under the letter ‘d,’ and the third under ‘s.’

Vocalic Variation

Change in diphthong

In Madeiran Portuguese, the diphthong Zdi\ sometimes alternates with

the diphthong Z`i\ in names such as Correia119 and Gouveia. In Trinidad, the

119
The name Cariah, seen in a local telephone directory, may or may not be a corruption
of Correia.
latter name is now sometimes spelt Govia in order to reflect that variation in

pronunciation.

Example: Change in diphthong

Zdi\ > [`i\

Group A Group B Group C

Zfnƒudi`\~ Zfnƒu`i`\ > [fnƒu`i`\ > [fnƒu`i`\

253. /fnƒudi`/ Gouveia (family name)

Monophthongisation and Compensatory Lengthening

In Trinidadian English, the diphthong [di\ or [dh\ does not exist.

Instead, the pure lengthened vowel [dı\ is used in English words such as

‘bait,’ ‘gate’ and ‘ape.’ (The sequence ZDi\ exists only as an interjection in

TE.) All Portuguese words and names containing the diphthong Zdi\ ~ [Di\

(spelt ‘ei’) are now pronounced with ZDı\, a lengthened monophthong, or Zdı\.

Examples of these are Caldeira, de Freitas, d’Oliveira, Ferreira, Figueira,

Madeira, Pereira, and Vieira. Those persons in Group C who used the vowel

Zdı\ are mainly of Guyanese Portuguese origin, possibly because the

Portuguese influence in Guyana was stronger and more persistent, or because

the variant in Guyana was Zdi\. There is also the possibility that the close-mid

vowels are perceived to be more open in the dialects of Madeiran Portuguese

in Trinidad.

Example: Monophthongisation

Zdi\ >Zdı\ > ZDı\

Group A Group B Group C

[l™ƒcdiQ`\ > [l™ƒcdıQ`\ > [l™ƒcDıQ`\

105. /l`ƒcdiQ`/ Madeira, ‘wood,’ the place name, a surname, and the

name of a type of wine produced in that island.

An example of monophthongisation, without compensatory

lengthening, was found in one informant’s production of adeus [`ƒcdvR] as

[`ƒcHR].

Denasalisation

Nasalisation of vowels is not a feature of (Trinidadian) English. The

diphthong [`fiv\ is usually denasalised to Z`v\, as in the family names Brazão

(also pronounced Zaß`ƒy¿M]) and Serrão, usually written without the tilde, or

in a few cases with the tilde on the wrong vowel.

Example: Denasalisation
 Z`fiv\ > Z`v\

Group A Group B Group C

Zƒad(mr`fiv\ ~ ZƒaD(mr`fiv\ > [ƒaDmr`fiv\ > [ƒaDmr`v\~ZƒaHmr¿M\

20. /ƒad(r`fiv/ or /ƒadfir`fiv/ bênção (‘blessing’)

The name João was, however, pronounced ZYTM\ or ZY¿M\ by a

member of Group B, with some retention of nasalisation. Similarly bênção

(formerly bênçao, ‘blessing,’ whose diphthong is oral and not nasalised) was

pronounced ZƒaHmr¿M\ by informant CB03. This pronunciation retains some

nasality, although the nasalised diphthong is removed and replaced by a velar

nasal consonant. Vilão was also pronounced Zuhƒk¿M\. Conceição was,

however, pronounced by a Portuguese creole with the fully nasalised

diphthong.

The name Magalhães, [l`f`ƒ≥`fiiY], has lost the nasalised diphthong in

the local pronunciation by some as Zl`f`ƒk`fiY\, but has retained a nasalised

vowel. The result is that the third syllable sounds very much like the locally

widely known French name Lange, pronounced [k`fiY\.

Vowel Changes

An example of a vowel change from a Portuguese vowel to an English

vowel is the following. The oral close back rounded vowel becomes the near-

close back rounded vowel.

 Example: Change in vowel

Zt\ > ZT\

Group A Group B Group C

ZjtRƒjtY\ > [jTRƒjTR\ > [jTRƒjTR]

65. /jtRƒjtY/ cuscuz (‘ground wheat’ or ‘couscous’)

Another example is that of the oral close front unrounded vowel

becoming the oral near-close front unrounded vowel.

Example: Change in vowel

Zh\ > ZH\

In the speech of Portuguese creoles, the vowel [h] in the first syllable

of the word bisca /ƒahRj`/ is often pronounced [H], so that the syllable is

shortened and the word now typically sounds like [ƒaHRj™]. Semi-speakers

also consistently used the ‘English’ ZH\ for Zh\ in words in the pattern of

lapinha and avozinho.

Unstressing and heightening of the vowel Zd\ to ZH\ was seen in one

informant’s production of cebolas (de) escabeche as [rHaHk¿yj`aDR],120 as

opposed to [rdƒank™R-hRj™ƒaDR].

120
Cf. Rogers, Insular Portuguese Pronunciation 252 fn. Cibola for cebola appears to
be normal in Madeira.
 Following are examples of elision, both syncope and apocope:

Elision

a. Syncope

Example 1:

Group A Group B Group C

ZnƒQDfn(hR\ > ZnƒQDf™Y\ > ZnƒßDY\

143. /ƒnQDfn(iY/ orégões, also orégãos (pl. of orégão) (‘thyme’ or

‘oregano’)

Changes:–

(i) the monophthongisation of the diphthong written ‘-ões’ is evident;

(ii) regular unstressing leads to the syncopation of the vowel, loss of

the consonant [f] and finally complete loss of the third syllable,

leading to a change in stress..

Example 2:

Group A [√jG`ŒmƒuhÙ`ƒc`≥tR ~ √jG`Œm™ƒuhÙ`ƒc`≥tY] >

Group B [√jG`QmƒuhÙ™ƒc`≥tY ~ √jG`ßm™ƒuhm`ƒc`≥™Y] >
Group C Z√jG`kƒuHm™ƒc`Y]

47. /ƒj`zmƒuhÙ`-ƒc`≥tR/ carne vinha-d’alhos (‘garlic pork’)

Changes:–

(i) unstressing of the second and final syllables eventually leads to

complete syncopation of these two syllables, with the result that this

compound name is two syllables shorter than the original;

 (ii) other changes are discussed above.

Example 3:

Group A Group B Group C

ZsQDƒlårtR\ > ZsQDƒlåR\ > ZsßDƒlnR\

202. /sQDƒlårtY/ tremoços (‘lupine seeds’)

Changes:–

(i) unstressing of the penultimate syllable leads to syncope;

(ii) there is also vowel variation between Zd\ and ZD\.

Informant A02 noted that another pronunciation, that of [sq`ƒlnR], is common

in Madeira but wrong, and that the ‘better’ pronunciation is closer to

[sqHƒlnR], or even [sq_ƒlnR] in quick speech.

Example 4:

Group A Group B Group C

ZjG™ƒQhc™-`u-l™ƒQh`\> ZjGQhc`ul™ƒQh`\> ZjGßdc`ƒl`ßh™\

175. /jdƒQhc`-`u-l`ƒQh`/ exclamation ‘querida Ave Maria’

Note the complete loss of both the unstressed syllables, and the loss of

the whole word ‘Ave’.

b. Apocope

Example:

Zt\ > [0]

 Group A Group B Group C

[ƒlh≥t-ƒeQhsGt§\ > [ƒlh≥t-eQhsG\> [ƒlhkit-eßhsG\~[ƒlhkt-eßhsG\

123. /ƒlh≥t-ƒeQhst/ milho frito (‘fried corn cake’)

As indicated earlier, the vowels in boys’ names such as Eurico ZitƒQhjGt§\ or

ZtƒQhjGt§\ and Alberto Z`≈ƒaDŒsGt§\ were also subject to apocope, because of

the de-voicing of Zt\ in word-final position following a voiceless aspirated

consonant, with the result that the names sound like ZitƒßhjG\ and Z`kƒaDßsG\

respectively. Other examples of words that succumbed to this process include

chouriço, sapato, frito, cinco, oito, and Machico, which were pronounced

[Rnƒßhr], [r`ƒo`sG], [eßhsG], [rhMjG] or [rHMjG], [nisG], and [l`ƒRhjG],

respectively. One semi-speaker did not appear to know that the word

guardanapo, in other dialects, is pronounced with a voiceless vowel in word-

final position, and the word was always pronounced [fv`qc™ƒm`oG], Words

such as sete, noite, and aguardente, pronounced [rDsG], [mnisG], and

[`fv`߃cDmsG], could be possible cases of words with underlying vowels in

word-final position. Caldo verde was pronounced [ƒjG`kcn-uDßc] or

[ƒjG`kct-uDßc] and could be another such case.

Other

Changes in Surnames
 In Trinidad, most Portuguese names came to be pronounced according

to English orthographic conventions, as indicated earlier. The vowels were

also affected by spelling pronunciations. In Portuguese, ‘o’ sometimes

represents [t\ and ‘ou’ represents Znv], whereas in English ‘o’ often

represents Zn] or Znv] and ‘ou’ sometimes represents Zt] as in ‘soup.’ As a

result, de Souza Zchƒrnty`\ is often pronounced with the vowel Zt] and the

result is Zchƒrty`\. The name Quintal [jG h(;ƒsG`≈\ is now usually pronounced

ZjGvHmƒsG`k\, although one early spelling, ‘Kintall’ (sic), found in the family

records of one branch of San Fernando-based Quintals, is a attempt to reflect

the original pronunciation.121

Finally, it is interesting to note that the English term coolies was the

source for the word “culois” [jGtƒkniR\. This is the only such example of an

English word adapted to Portuguese pronunciation, although no doubt there

must have been many more.

Written Data

According to Winer, the criteria of authenticity and reliability include

audience comprehension, as well as consistency with other known

contemporary texts, with other related language varieties, with contemporary

TEC, and with what is known about historical development of TEC and

related languages in the Caribbean. Internal criteria include consistency

121
Personal communication, J. Wayne Quintal, 1996.
within the text, complexity of language and co-occurrence (195).

D’Costa talks about the pressure for authentic representation of the

language and culture of the author’s own community in a literary dialect

(252). The author

must reconcile these partially opposing aims and devises for them an
orthography which goes beyond playing with spelling systems,
phonetic or otherwise, by creating orthographic signals which assist
him in expression and communication, and which can reach both his
local and his international audiences.

There are various references to the Portuguese as an ethnic group in

literary works, such as Mittelholzer’s novel Morning at the Office for

example, but very little about the language.122 However, the three pieces of

creative writing presented in chapter 6 will now be examined. These pieces

are the dialogue called “Portuguese Shop in George Street” in Penny Cuts of

17 September 1904, the novel Pitch Lake by Alfred Hubert Mendes (1934),

and Portuguese Dance, a 1947 calypso by King Pharaoh. Some background

on each writer will be briefly discussed, as far as is known, and following is

an analysis of their portrayal of the English-lexicon Creole and/or the English

of Portuguese immigrants and the first creole generation. As assessment of

the accuracy of these authors’ representations will be given, based on an

understanding of their backgrounds and intentions.

There is one other extant novel on the Portuguese community of

Trinidad, namely All Papa’s Children by Albert Maria Gomes, but in Gomes’

novel, there is little dialectal variation, and characters are not differentiated by

122
Chapter 5 of Anson Gonzalez’s M.Phil. thesis “Race and Colour in the Pre-
Independence Trinidad and Tobago Novel” examines the treatment of the Portuguese in Pitch
Lake in particular, as well as in other novels.
language use. In his autobiography, Through a Maze of Colour, Gomes

mentioned that his Madeiran father would occasionally cry out “Oh, my

God!” in his native Portuguese, but did not give his readers the original

Portuguese phrase (6). Gomes probably saw this as fulfilling the criterion of

audience comprehension. While Gomes’ non-use of Portuguese phrases could

also be due to some measure of insecurity, he was no doubt aware of the fact

that Portuguese was not spoken outside of the small community, and would

not be easily understood, if at all.

Neither Gomes nor Mendes, both creole Portuguese, uses the

Portuguese language, except for Mendes, who uses the term “Madeirenses”

interchangeably with “Madeira-born” (59). Mendes, however, uses a Spanish

expression, mañana por la mañana (234), as well as a French/Creole one,

sans humanité (36), no doubt because of the currency of these particular

expressions in the wider society, that had long been accustomed to Spanish

and French, on the street and in the media.

“Portuguese Shop on George Street”123

Nothing is known of the anonymous writer of this sketch, published in

the newspaper Penny Cuts on 17 September 1904. The scene is presented

much like a scene from a play, with the setting given and the use of direct

speech. The writer is probably not a member of the Portuguese community,

but an external observer.

123
See pages 220–21.
 No indication is given as to whether the Portuguese shop-keeper,

Johnnie, is an immigrant or a Portuguese creole. There is no ostensible

difference between Johnnie’s speech and that of the cook, Sarah Jane, and

both of them speak Creole English. There is not enough data given to tell us

about any Portuguese retentions in Johnnie’s speech. The only possible

Portuguese influence in Johnnie’s speech is ‘fur rit,’ where the ‘r’ is

emphasised in the context of the characteristic non-rhoticity of Trinidadian

speech.

The orthographic representation of the Creole is not consistent.

‘Farthing’ appears as ‘farding’ and ‘fardeen,’ and both pronunciations are

used by Johnnie, while Sarah Jane uses ‘farding.’ Also ‘you’ appears as

‘you,’ ‘yoh’ and ‘yuh.’ It is not clear why the writer has Johnnie using non-

Portuguese vowels in ‘spile all we prafit.’ It could have been done to make

him appear to be as non-Trinidadian as possible, or it could reflect some

archaic or stereotyped form of Caribbean Creole English.

Pitch Lake124

In order to write his second major novel, Black Fauns, Mendes chose

to spend a great deal of time in a Port-of-Spain barrack yard. There he

engaged in participant observation of the lifestyles in barrack yard

communities for his research for his novel. The result was an astutely written

work, but Ramchand notes that Black Fauns “does not strike us as having

124
See pages 221–22.
been properly synthesised into a whole ... and the author makes his local

material appear exotic” (Introduction). Ramchand goes on to say that “the

same cannot be said about Pitch Lake,” for it rings true, and is far more

convincing than the former novel. Gonzalez discusses the fact that Mendes is

an insider to the Portuguese community, and that both novels evince some

degree of caricaturing and stereotyping of “blacks” and other outsiders, but

not of the Portuguese (147–48). Pitch Lake is clearly based on a history of

first-hand experience. No doubt the effective use of language in his character

portrayal helped to bring about this overall effect of realism. There is frequent

reference to language: the narrator notices a ‘harsh’ American accent (9), an

‘imperceptible’ Canadian accent (167), an orator’s ‘ponderous’ language (67),

the maintenance of the Chinese language among immigrants (76), the

Barbadian cook’s accent (88),125 the situational variation in Joe da Costa’s

speech, and above all, the Portuguese accent of Antonio da Costa, the

Portuguese-born father of the protagonist, Joe da Costa.

Born in 1897, Mendes was the son of a prosperous provision merchant

who in turn was the son of Portuguese Presbyterian refugees who came to

Trinidad in 1846 with two of his siblings. Mendes acquired most of his

education at an English public school and left Trinidad in 1905 at the age of 8.

He served as a rifleman in France during World War I and returned home

from Europe in 1922, seventeen years after he had left his place of birth. It is

125
Examples of Mendes’ portrayal of Barbadian English include: “Him who doied ’pon
de Cross foo all dis sinful race of voipers and snakes on dis unhallowed eart’” (260), and “Oi
come to as’ yoh Mistah Joe, if yuh knows whey madam got de key foo de sideboard” (154),
and “debil an’ he woife was foightin’…” (267).
not known if he visited Trinidad during this period abroad. He became

involved in creative writing, and with his close associate, C.L.R. James, he

produced and edited Trinidad, a literary magazine, and contributed to the

socialist magazine, The Beacon, published by Albert Gomes, another

Portuguese creole. Ten years after his return to Trinidad, he left for the

United States of America and remained there for a period of seven years, from

1933 to 1940. Upon his return, he entered the civil service and later migrated

to Barbados where he died at 95 in 1992.

English was clearly his mother tongue, and it was probably that of his

creole father and mother. It is not known if his parents spoke Portuguese in

the home or not. As the grandson of Portuguese, and as a member of the

Portuguese community, which at that time comprised substantial numbers of

immigrants as well as creoles, he had ready access to a variety of insider

information through family and social networks. As the owner of a Port-of-

Spain business and a member of the Portuguese Association, he came into

regular contact with both immigrant and creole merchants and clerks. He was

therefore well equipped to write about his community and to portray their

attitudes to language, as well as the immigrant learner’s use of Creole English.

The following discussion is based on Mendes’ portrayal of the English

of the Portuguese shop-keeper, Antonio, in Pitch Lake. Mr. da Costa is

Madeiran-born and is the owner of a typical Portuguese shop and adjacent

rum-shop. Evidently, he has little exposure to Standard English, and apart

from his accent, his speech could well be that of any other Creole English
speaker. Richards’ discussion of the acquisition of English as a second

language shows that competence in the standard dialect depends on the extent

to which the language learner mixes with standard dialect speakers:

Whether he goes on to learn standard English or develops a

functionally adequate but non-standard personal dialect of English will
depend on the degree of interaction and integration he achieves with
the English-maintained societal structures. (66)

Antonio da Costa is a typical immigrant Portuguese shop-keeper, at the

periphery of society. His contact with Standard English speakers appears to

be relatively limited, and this is due to his low social status and the nature of

his self-employment.

The speech of the senior da Costa is the object of several comments.

He is described as having “a melancholy sing-song voice” (13), and as

“talking all the time his broken sing-song English” (31). His son, Joe, was

harshly critical of his father’s speech: “It would never do, Joe thought, to

have them meet the old man and see how crude he was and hear how badly he

spoke English ...” (156). Mr. da Costa in fact spoke Creole English with a

Portuguese accent, but the Creole was looked down on by the socially

ambitious and was considered to be ‘broken English.’

The difference in Mr. da Costa’s accentuation is also noted: ““You

getting crazhy, Joseph” – he accented the last syllable of the name”” (22).

The most marked feature of Mr. da Costa’s speech is clearly the phonology of

his English Creole, which is in fact “genetically related” to the phonology of

Portuguese, his mother tongue (and syntax on a lesser level), to use Alleyne’s

terminology (218). In the process of L2 acquisition which is the first step to

bilingualism and eventually language shift, a marked phonology is typical of

the language fossils or “residual retentive elements” found in the language

learner’s speech (Alleyne 218). According to that author:

the order of total discarding of former native language elements is: 1)

vocabulary, 2) morphology, 3) syntax, and 4) phonology. And within
phonology, it seems that the native input intonation pattern continues
for the longest time in the newly adopted language. (Alleyne 138)

This is clearly the case in Mr. da Costa’s speech. His vocabulary is

completely English, and his phonology is distinctly more Portuguese than

English. What Alleyne describes as “transmissions and (dis)continuities”

(138), Selinker refers to as “fossilizable linguistic phenomena” (212). As

Selinker notes, these phenomena are “linguistic items, rules and subsystems

which speakers of a particular NL (native language) will tend to keep in their

IL (interlanguage) relative to a particular TL (target language)” (212). The

rules and subsystems of Portuguese that are visible in da Costa’s speech are

primarily phonological.

Mendes, the author, is fairly consistent in his representation of Antonio

da Costa’s speech. Although the nasality of Portuguese is well-known (cf.

Elcock 444), Mendes does not attempt to capture this feature, except in “You

non know I pay for it” (21). This sentence is also grammatically interesting

since the underlying syntax, vis-à-vis the placement of ‘non,’ is obviously

Portuguese, no doubt reinforced by Creole. Otherwise, the most salient

feature of his language that is clearly depicted orthographically is the heavy

palatalisation of fricatives associated with Portuguese. European Portuguese,

including Madeiran Portuguese, is typified by the use of the alveopalatal

fricatives ZR\ and ZY\.

Entwistle notes that in European Portuguese “only the voiceless Zr\” is

used at the end of a word (321). Mendes may sometimes confuse the voiced

and the voiceless sounds, but manages to globally convey that the speaker is a

native lusophone. The sound ZY\ is substituted for the voiced alveolar

fricative Zy\ in word-final and word-medial positions. It is represented by

Mendes as ‘zh’ (after the pattern of ‘sh’ for ZR\), as in the following examples:

“bizhinzh” for ‘business’ (12, 13), “izh” for ‘is’ (12), “timezh” for ‘times‘

(12), “customerzh” for ‘customers’ (21), “crazhy” for ‘crazy’ (22), “dezhe

yearzh” for ‘these years’ (22), and “dayzh” for ‘days’ (22). The sound Zr\

which should normally change to ZR\, appears at first glance to be less

consistently represented as ‘sh,’ except in the example ‘income taxsh’ (65). It

appears as ‘zh,’ as in “dizh” for ‘this’ (17), in “let’zh” for ‘let’s’ (23), and in

“whazh” for ‘what’s’ (21). This may actually point to the fact of non-

distinction between ZR\ and ZY\ in word-final position in Portuguese (as seen

above).

The absence or impossibility of consonant clusters in word-final

position, typical of Trinidadian English Creole and other English Creoles, is

also part of Antonio da Costa’s phonology, and is a case of convergence and

reinforcement. Examples include “hol’” (‘hold’) (12), “an’” (‘and’) (13),

“mus’” (‘must’) (31) and “cos’” (‘cost’) (22).

Nowhere is there an example of Mr. da Costa using the interdental

fricatives, which do not exist in Portuguese, nor in Creole English (except in

hypercorrected forms); he uses Zs\ and Zc\, as in “somet’ing” for ‘something’

(13), “t’row” for ‘throw’ (22), and “dough” for ‘though’ (12). The appearance

of the velar nasal is variable. It appears in “getting” (22), but not in “treatin’”

(21).

Creole syntax features include use of the double comparative. Talking

to his son, Joseph, Antonio da Costa says, “But you know the bizhinzh, Joe;

and dough trade izh dull now, you can hol’ on and hope foo mo’ better

timezh” (12). This is not necessarily a case of convergence with Portuguese,

since standard Portuguese, like Standard English, uses the equivalent melhor

for better. It is more probably convergence with the productive English

comparative form, more plus the adjective, which is similar to the regular

Portuguese comparative, mais plus the adjective.

Antonio uses the copula fairly regularly, which also exists in

Portuguese, but varies in Creole English. As an auxiliary, however, the verb

‘to be’ is not used, as in “no, you not treatin’ de customerzh good” (21), and

“you getting crazhy.” The use of ‘foo’ is also a Creole feature, as in ““Wait a

minute, Aldophus,” old da Costa said. “You got foo wait you’ turn,” and he

unconcernedly continued serving the little group of Indians....” (9), and

““Come Joseph,” the old man said. “Sookdeo wan’ foo have a drink foo

luck”” (13). Depending on the context, ‘foo’ or ‘fi’ can be glossed as ‘for’

and the infinitival ‘to,’ which Winford calls “its apparent counterpart in SE”

(590).
 Joe da Costa represents the first creole generation. There is almost no

trace of Portuguese phonology or vocabulary in his speech, which is quite

typical of the informants interviewed.126 His speech moves along the

continuum of English and Creole English, and the variation in Joe’s speech is

both situational and social. When he is in the company of his social superiors

and when he wants to distance himself from his social inferiors, he adopts

Standard English which appears stilted and unnatural to him. When speaking

to Stella, the household servant, she greets him “Mornin’, Mister Joe,” and he

replies “Good morning, Stella” (227). Joe says “vexed” and Stella says “vex.”

In a subsequent dialogue, she tells him “I don’ understan’ dat high talk, Mister

Joe” (243). During his six years in the rum shop, however, he abandons all

self-consciousness and speaks naturally. When Joe says to his father, “I not

too keen on it,” the narrator comments that “Joe was always careless with his

grammar when in the shop” (23).

Mendes’ description of both Antonio’s and Joe’s speech patterns is

perhaps the most reliable non-linguistic one available, primarily because it is

written by a Portuguese creole. Its reliability is based on generally consistent

efforts to accurately portray in detail not only Antonio da Costa’s speech

patterns, but also Trinidadian Creole English, Standard (Trinidadian) English,

and Barbadian English. The author’s efforts are successful, and readers gain

an insight into the dynamics of Portuguese society in Trinidad, and their use

of language over two generations.

126
Interestingly, however, Joe calls his father ‘poopa’ (12). Goodman says that pupa
‘father’ has “various possible etymologies; perhaps dialectal or nursery words,” Portuguese
being one of the suggested etymologies, though it is not certain why (387).
 Portuguese Dance127

King Pharaoh, composer and singer of the 1947 calypso Portuguese

Dance, belonged to the Young Brigade of calypsonians which was in

existence from 1945 to 1955. He was a chantrel (chantwell) and is described

as “a man of very sound judgement, good manners and above all, a very good

singer” (Jones 14). Little else has been written about him or about what

inspired Portuguese Dance (sometimes called Pharaoh because of the

chorus). King Pharaoh won the Road March competition with that song,

placed third in one Calypso King competition, and first in another (Rohlehr

410). It was re-recorded in 1992 by Canboulay Productions for use in a

Carnival musical “Ah Wanna Fall” in which the stage setting included a

typical old Portuguese shop and rum shop.

What is significant about this song is the chorus which is obviously

meant to be an imitation of Portuguese speech, especially the feature of

palatalisation, and the wide use of diphthongs:

Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh

Vishkee, vishkee vay, Pharaoh
Vishkee, vishkee voy, Pharaoh
Vey vay voy voy

The song-writer clearly considered the alveopalatal sound [R\, as well as the

diphthongs Zdi\/Zdh\, Z`i\/Z`h\ and [ni\/Znh\ to be typical of Portuguese speech.

Elcock notes the historical decrease but predominance of Zdi\ in Portuguese,

127
See page 223.
as well as the vocalic nature of Portuguese in comparison with other Romance

languages (444). This concurs with Mendes’ descriptions and perceptions,

and is also quite similar to informants’ imitations of their parents’ English or

Creole English. While this calypso is an outsider’s stereotyped representation

of the Portuguese language, it not only records the fact of the Portuguese

presence in Trinidad, but gives some insight into the impact that this small

community of shop-keepers had on its host society. It is useful in that it

demonstrates the two characteristic features of the Portuguese language that

are the most quickly and easily perceived by non-Portuguese speakers. The

derisive term ‘rash-patash’ or ‘raish-patraish’, mentioned earlier, is not only

an imitation of raios [ƒz`itR\, but of the palatals and diphthongs (in ‘raish-

patraish’) perceived to be typical of Portuguese.

Other

Charles Reis’ use of Portuguese in English-language texts128

As indicated earlier, it appears that Reis, a barrister and an author, was

proficient in the Portuguese language, which he refers to as “the eloquent

language of Camoens” (12, sic, the English spelling, although Camões,

without the tilde, is used on page 127 of his later work). Although he also

makes regular reference to the non-Portuguese speaking ability of other

creoles, Portuguese phrases are interspersed throughout his first work of 1926

often without translation. On other occasions, he gives the English of the

128
See pages 218–19.
original Portuguese without giving the Portuguese, as in two debates, “Long

Live the Allies” and “Belgium is no Gateway” (31). In his 1945 work, a full

letter in Portuguese from the Naval Association appears without a translation

into English (149–50).

Portuguese phrases and sentences were for the most part accurately

spelt. Most of the Portuguese words appeared without the diacritics, probably

for the same reasons as those stated for Sá Gomes’ letter, namely lack of such

features in local typewriters and presses.129 Some spellings may reflect pre-

1947 Portuguese orthography,130 such as ‘portuguêz’ and ‘Luzitanos.’

Reis also uses the terms “the Grupo” (for example 185–87, to refer to

the “Grupo Dramático Portuguêz (sic) Primeiro de Dezembro), and “patria”

(“pátria”) for example, 131 (‘motherland’ or ‘fatherland) throughout. The

names of plays mentioned by Reis were cited in chapter 5.

Works by Mónica Pestana

Mónica Maria Reis Pestana is the author of Travelling Memories with

Jokes and Tips from 1910–1984, and wrote under the name Monica M. P. Ries

(sic). She was born in Câmara de Lobos in 1902, and arrived in Trinidad in

1921 at the age of 19, as the new wife of a Portuguese immigrant who

returned to Madeira for this arranged marriage, and before she passed away in

1996, was probably the oldest surviving Madeiran immigrant in Trinidad. Her

129
See pages 201–202.
130
In this century, there have been at least two important reforms of Portuguese
orthography – in 1911 and 1947.
book is written in somewhat informal English. Some features of Creole

English, as well as Portuguese calques, dominated her speech, but the Creole

does not appear to be reflected in her writing.

In 1992, she also compiled a booklet of old Portuguese love songs,

under the title “Antigas Canções de Namorados.” Before migrating, she

received formal education in Madeira only up to the primary level since girls

were not encouraged to pursue academic careers in that era. It is important to

note when she received her education, since several important changes in

Portuguese orthography were made in 1947. Her Portuguese spelling reflects

not only pre-1947 conventions, but also Madeiran dialectal, non-standard

pronunciation to some extent, as well as wide idiolectal variation.

On the whole, very little of the Portuguese language has survived

among members of the creole generations in Trinidad. The language

underwent drastic change among descendants of the Madeirans, with heavy

loss and reduction in all areas. Many of the surviving words may no longer be

recognisably Portuguese at first hearing, although they are recognisably non-

English, because of the retention of a few aspects of Portuguese phonetics and

phonology. The phoneme inventory of Portuguese was greatly whittled down

among semi-speakers, and in many ways now converges and overlaps with the

phoneme inventory of TE. The latter has long been the first language of the

vast majority of Portuguese creoles, and Portuguese sounds and looks foreign

to the majority of Luso-descendants. As an ethnic, heritage language, it is

now permanently lost to all successive generations.

 Some of the surviving lexemes show evidence of synchronic

phonological variation which began in Madeira and which culminated in

diachronic change, and choices of specific variants. If the language had had a

chance to survive, such variation and change may well have given rise to a

new homogenous variety of Madeiran Portuguese, as happened with Indian

Bhojpuri in Trinidad (cf. Mohan, “The Rise and Fall of Trinidad Bhojpuri”).

In the context of language contact and conflict, other languages competed for

the attention of Portuguese speakers and their children. As a result, no new

variety of Portuguese, Trinidadian Portuguese, could be developed.

The Madeirans in Trinidad today speak more English than they do

Portuguese, even with their offspring and fellow Portuguese. What has

survived is known only to the children and grandchildren of Madeirans, and

these survivals are rarely known among subsequent generations. In the once

polyglot Trinidad, with English as the official language, the Portuguese

language faced inevitable eradication, as it was completely overwhelmed by

English. It has contributed no lasting lexical items to Trinidadian English, and

only Portuguese family names will continue to be an integral part of the

linguistic landscape of this country. With far too few speakers of its own,

most of whom were content to be bilingual and to raise monolingual

anglophone children, the Portuguese language in Trinidad and Tobago has

become obsolescent with little or no hope of revitalisation.

 9

THE LIFE CYCLE OF THE PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE IN TRINIDAD

As with the majority of languages that have become socially obsolescent,

Portuguese in Trinidad has gone through the two stages of attrition preceding

actual death, namely those of early maintenance and later shift. What follows

is an analysis of the life cycle of this language in the context of Trinidad over

a one hundred and fifty-year period. This discussion will show how the

language fell into disuse at both the individual and community levels, despite

initial efforts aimed at language preservation, and concluding with the internal

factors responsible for the attrition of the ethnic language.

Earlier Language Maintenance

One of the criteria for language maintenance by a minority immigrant

group is a cohesive internal social structure, since

a close-knit network structure is an important mechanism of language

maintenance, in that speakers are able to form a cohesive group
capable of resisting pressure, linguistic and social, from outside the
group. (Milroy 178)

The nuclear family is the basic and by far the most important unit of this

structure, followed by the extended family. It is chiefly in this context that

language vitality is nurtured. In Trinidad, chain migration of Portuguese

families in the twentieth century is a phenomenon well known to the

Portuguese community and consulate. One member of a family, usually male,

would migrate and would soon be followed by his wife and children, siblings,
sometimes parents and other relatives, and even friends. Cases are known of

migration of entire nuclear families in the twentieth century, including two

families who were once in the baking industry. It was also not uncommon for

household servants who had come to be considered part of the family to

migrate with their employers. Theoretically, family migration is one of the

factors in favour of language preservation, but is to some extent dependent

upon the age of the children. The older the children, the greater the likelihood

of strong language maintenance in family circles, and conversely, the younger

the children are, the sooner they learn another language.

As discussed in chapter 4, statistical information on early migration,

family, chain and otherwise, is incomplete. Yet to be unearthed, if extant, are

full records of the male-female sex ratio among the immigrants of the late

1800s, which might also be correlated to language maintenance. An equal

number of men and women would generally limit the need for exogamous

marriages, and enhance the possibility of language maintenance in the family,

and by extension, the community. As mentioned in chapter 4 also,

housewives are key in language maintenance, or in language shift, depending

on the mother tongue of the individual. Often the family’s economic support

depended on the men working outside of the home. In those cases, fathers

were usually unable to spend sufficient time with the children for language

teaching and transmission. In a male-dominated society where the men work

outside the home and women occupy domestic rôles, the presence of too few

native-born female speakers can often lead to language shift, even if there is a
strong male native-speaker presence.

In the nineteenth century, it appears that there were more male

immigrants than female. Two valuable extant records help in ascertaining the

ratio of men to women among the earliest Presbyterian refugees, if not the

Catholic immigrants. These are (1) a list of many of the earliest members of

the Portuguese Church, and (2) a list of the seventeen earliest marriages

among the Presbyterian Portuguese that took place between December 1846

and July 1849. Of the former, there are 88 names recorded of which 28 were

women and 60 were men, almost a 2 to 1 ratio. Despite this ratio, the list of

marriages and oral history indicate that endogamous unions were most likely

the norm for that group at that time, since they were “equally proportioned as

to sex, and [are] of all ages,” according to a report in the Port of Spain Gazette

(13 November 1846, p.3).131 Such unions fostered early language

maintenance in the homes, the nuclei of the community. Language

preservation remained possible for some time, at least until the education of

their children who inevitably learned English at school.

While it has been difficult to establish exact figures to illustrate the

male-female ratio of immigrants, it is clear that there were more male

immigrants than female immigrants. The linguistic importance of

predominantly male migration is that several men established informal as well

as formal alliances with non-Portuguese speaking women in the absence of

their female compatriots. Several of the male immigrants were bachelors or,

131
See appendix E, p. 376.
if married, set out to Trinidad without their families. Married male

immigrants would often send for their wives and children left behind, but

some also started new families on arrival. Unions with non-Portuguese

speaking women often resulted in non-Portuguese speaking offspring and also

assisted in the Portuguese male’s gradual but sure acquisition of English

and/or Trinidadian English Creole. Informants report that arranged marriages

were later contracted with women from Madeira. These women would in turn

learn some English from their husbands who had become acclimatised, and

whose learning of English was by then under way.

The internal demographics of a group is an important aspect of a

group’s language maintenance capability, especially where the group is not

easily penetrable by outsiders. Other important factors in language

maintenance include “[the] solidarity ethic, constant interaction, and a

confined territory” (Le Page, qtd. in Milroy 179). The Portuguese community

experienced the first two of these determinants, but not the third, since they

were always geographically mobile. Although there were several small

pockets of Portuguese, there was never a real Portuguese settlement in

Trinidad that was separate from the wider community. For the most part,

immigrants were dispersed all over the country, initially on estates where

many died, and later in the urban and suburban areas which became home to

the more prosperous Portuguese businesses. Such a scattered settlement

pattern militated against any possibility for social isolation as a group and also

accelerated and ensured the eventual loss of the language. For the early
immigrant Portuguese, there was constant community interaction that came

about through the spheres of religion, business, and social clubs. The

solidarity ethic was most clearly seen in the fact that older businessmen

recruited and assisted their newer compatriots by employing them, and by

setting up newcomers in their own business ventures. Portuguese patronage

of Portuguese businesses also showed community co-operation. The rôle that

these network-fortifying factors of business and religion, as well as clubs later

on, played in language maintenance will be further examined.

The two migrating groups of Madeirans, Catholic and Presbyterian,

left behind different problems in Madeira. The scenario for the Presbyterian

refugees was undoubtedly quite different from that of the migrating Catholic

labourers. For the former, it was not a question of working to save enough

money to either return home or to finance relatives’ trips to Trinidad. The

majority of Presbyterians left their homeland permanently, as “this was in no

sense a mass emigration of hundreds of persons seeking employment but

rather those who sought refuge in this island through religious persecution”

(Franklin, St. Ann’s 5). While some families were converted to the Protestant

faith together, others were torn apart. There were Presbyterians left in

Madeira with whom some of the refugees managed to keep in touch, but on

the whole ties with Madeira were cut because of persecution in the homeland.

For reasons of their shared experience of suffering, the Portuguese

Presbyterians became a real community and were more tightly bonded than

their Catholic compatriots in the early stages of migration. At first, more

concerted language maintenance efforts were made by the refugees as a group

than by the Catholic immigrants. Ironically, however, the language was

preserved over a longer period of time among the latter, as was discussed in

chapter 5.

It is clear that language maintenance was only possible in Trinidadian

families with recent or ongoing ties with Madeira. If language maintenance

was a possibility only among twentieth century families, and no Presbyterians

were known to have come in the twentieth century, then there was little or no

language maintenance among the Presbyterian Portuguese. All the known

families that preserved the language were Catholic. This is not to say that no

descendants of Presbyterians sustained Portuguese in the home, but this

appears to have been possible only through intermarriage with recent

immigrants, who tended to be Catholic.

The following family tree shows a Catholic Luso-Trinidadian family

that maintained use of the Portuguese language in the home. This family had

its roots in the nineteenth century. As the tree shows, both father and paternal

grandfather of informant B06 were creole Portuguese, and the grandfather was

probably bilingual because of a considerable amount of time spent in Madeira.

Both mother and paternal grandmother were native Portuguese speakers.

With regard to the grandfather of informant B06, family records have it that

he was born in Port-of-Spain, and the consulate records stating that he was

born in Madeira are therefore inaccurate.

Three generations were able to maintain the language, more than for
most families. It is also interesting to note that the informant and his siblings

grew up with two Portuguese female servants. The language of the household

was thus Portuguese and was the first language spoken by the children. The

fourth generation in Trinidad comprises completely monolingual English

speakers, and the Portuguese language in that family is now only spoken by

the two older living generations.

 Figure 2
Language Maintenance Across Three Generations:
The Family Tree of Informant B06
The Process of Language Shift

Not only was the group limited in size ever since its arrival but, as

early as 1891, assimilation of the group was well under way. This absorption

of the community was a result of factors that include intermarriage,

geographic and social mobility, mortality and migration.

The reasons for language shift lie mainly in the interplay of extra-

linguistic determinants, such as external or social conditions which in turn

often have a bearing on internal or psychological factors. For example, the

social insecurity resulting from the low social status of an immigrant group

usually leads to linguistic insecurity. A group that is prepared to advance

socially is often willing to abandon its cultural and linguistic values in favour

of those of the prestige group. Education and wealth often help individuals to

become socially mobile. The desire to acquire schooling and money for the

sake of social prestige and stability may actually weaken already infirm

cultural core values. The social and psychological therefore work together to

either reinforce or undermine language behaviour.

It is important to note the Portuguese community’s desires for social

advancement, to know what preoccupied Portuguese thinking, and to

understand how they were influenced by the wider society. Much of Mendes’

novel Pitch Lake is devoted to a thorough treatment of this issue. Apart from

material ambitions for physical comfort, many Portuguese creoles began to

experience a growing desire to distance themselves from their backgrounds of

“indentured agriculturalists” (Harney 118) and of owners of rum shops. This

desire also came about because of the tendency of the local society to

“confuse the conditions of immigration and insertion at the bottom of the host

economy with inherited traits and tastes” (126–27). According to Steven

Ussach, “the Portuguese immigrant senses that there is no status as an

immigrant, and by extension, that there is not status in being Portuguese” (50,

qtd. in Harney 130).132

Harney offers an insightful discussion of Portuguese migrants in

anglophone territories around the world. He argues that even before their

arrival into their host societies, the generally dismissive treatment of the

Portuguese resulted from the view that the Portuguese are usually viewed as

marginally European, especially the “isolatoes” from Madeira and the Azores.

As far as those who were anti-Portuguese were concerned, these islanders

“were already perched on the precarious last ring (sic) of “European-ness””

(120). This preconception was reinforced by the low immigrant status they

were automatically accorded on arrival in their new homelands, including

Trinidad.

In Trinidad, as in several other former British territories, the

Portuguese were “the only group of immigrants from Europe denied European

origin” (Harney 117). This fact was reflected in censuses of Trinidad and

Tobago which separated Portuguese nationals from other Europeans. Such an

attitude was also less tangibly manifested in

efforts to assert racial and cultural distance between settlers from

132
Steven Ussach, “The New England Portuguese: A Plural Society within a Plural
Society,” Plural Societies 6.2 (1975). (No pagination given.)
 northern Europe and the Portuguese. A sense of the Portuguese as not
truly European, or at least inferior to other White settlers, was passed
on to all elements of the colonial population. (Harney 113)

Not only did other Europeans perceive the Portuguese as ‘non-white’, but so

did non-Europeans. While the Portuguese were never segregated

residentially, they were seen as distinct from other Europeans, and as closer to

the Africans and Indians in status and behaviour. This issue of “whiteness”

takes on a special meaning in this predominantly Afro-Asian community in

which traditionally Europeans have been the élite group, although they are in

the extreme minority.133

Although the generally “low-entry status” of immigrant groups is one

reason for low Portuguese status, Harney suggests that there are “deeper

currents of biological and cultural racism” in the case of the Portuguese as

opposed to other nationalities of European origin (116). The Presbyterian

Portuguese refugees are a case in point. While they did not arrive as

indentured labourers, they came without social and financial power, and were

therefore perceived as the underdog. Although the local press viewed them in

a more favourable light as compared to the indentured Portuguese,134 to some

extent they were grouped together with all other Portuguese and accorded

equally low status, until they gained entry into socially acceptable

occupations. Other European indentured groups of the 1840s such as the

Germans tended to be automatically accepted into European creole society,

133
See also discussion in J. Ferreira, The Portuguese 48–56.
134
See appendix E, p. 376.
partly due to the fact that their predecessors arrived as or quickly became

prosperous merchants, and also because they were northern Europeans, not

southern like the Portuguese.

In order to be part of the local élite community in Trinidad, it was

important for the Portuguese to forsake “a culture of poverty” (Harney 118).

Important keys for entry into the élite included being both anglicised and

Catholic, a combination in the anglophone world that is unique to former

French and/or Spanish territories. This blend is the outcome of historical

circumstances, with religion reflecting former French dominance, and the

language reflecting the political power of the British. The Catholic

Portuguese already adhered to the religion of prestige, and the Presbyterians

found themselves in a largely anglophone enclave of Scots Presbyterians. The

easiest way for anglicisation and language shift to take place was through

education, and immigrants were generally more likely to change their

language than religion (cf. Huffines, Pennsylvania German 48). Education of

the first creole generation in the non-ethnic tongue is a major social factor in

the linguistic socialisation of a community. This often leads to a change in

linguistic behaviour of the immigrants themselves. The children of

immigrants therefore often play an influential rôle in the language shift of a

community. Through contacts with other children in the school arena and

elsewhere, children usually acquire the language of the wider society before

their parents do. When that happens, bilingualism and code-switching may

become the norm. Parents and children may even begin to communicate with
each other in the non-ethnic tongue, and this communication is possible if

both have linguistic competence in mutually known domains. Very quickly,

“the language of wider currency is recognized as the language of upward

mobility and as soon as the linguistic competence of the parents permits it to

be introduced in the home” (Dorian, Language Death 114), or as Dabène and

Moore put it, “it is ... essentially through the mediation of school-age children

that the majority language penetrates the home context” (23). When the non-

immigrant language begins to penetrate the home circles of immigrants, this is

a sure sign that the dominion of the ethnic language has begun to be eroded.

Harney’s discussion of Portuguese immigrants in the English-speaking

world is fully applicable to the Portuguese in Trinidad. He emphasises the

rôle of education in breaking down family influence and in weakening the

family economy. Harney also theorises that “clannishness depended upon, or

was caused by, illiteracy, inability to speak English, or diglossia” (128). The

breakdown of “clannishness” may be attributed to education in English, or

rather in the immigrants’ espousal of foreign values and rejection of their own

which in turn was assisted by exposure to the outside.

In some overseas Portuguese communities, formal education for girls

was practically non-existent, or “undervalued” (Harney 128). The same was

true in Trinidad, and many first generation creole Portuguese girls were

expected to stay at home and learn how to manage a home and family.

Informant B09, for example, was educated up to the equivalent of Standard 7

in 1919. Later, it would appear that the 1940s signalled the increasing
education of Portuguese creole girls, of both religious groups and of all

classes. Before education was required for all locals who were by law British

subjects, the level achieved among creole Portuguese was quite low. Their

education was limited and “was very often at the most elementary schools”

(de Boissière 19). Compulsory education in later times revolutionised that,

and Portuguese children were educated in the British-based local system. As

the need for social advancement increased and as the Portuguese began to

identify themselves more with other higher-status ethnic groups of European

origin, parents began to encourage their children to do well in school and to

move ahead as far as they possibly could, depending on family resources.

This was done partly to spare the children from the derision faced by

immigrant parents whose production of English was strongly coloured by their

Portuguese accent, and partly for the sake of avoiding the social (and

economic) marginalisation that beset this immigrant group.

The influence of English in the lives of the Portuguese was seen even

in their naming practices, as some immigrant parents translated their

children’s names into English, and first generation parents often gave their

children English names (cf. Reis, Associação Portugueza 132–33).

As the Portuguese advanced economically, many of them realised that

that was not enough, and that wealth without social respect and acceptance did

very little for their social status. A shrewd businessman could accumulate

much wealth but would not necessarily be guaranteed entry into social circles

higher than his own. When education was recognised as crucial for their
children, many went a step further and sent their boys, and girls as well, to

acquire an education in public schools in Britain.135 This was done to improve

their chances for social advancement. However, it caused many creole

Portuguese to turn away from their parents’ culture and language. De

Boissière offers an analysis of that scenario, and here it is appropriate to quote

that author at length:

Instead of sending their children to Madeira to learn agriculture and

commerce from their peasant relatives, after the necessary English
education in the schools of Trinidad – they sent them to the public
schools of England to learn the academic culture of the wealthy
English mercantile Bourgeoisie, a people whose way of living would
have no relation to their future except in distant commercial contacts.
(18–19)

As a consequence of a non-Portuguese, pro-British education system in

Trinidad and education in England, some Portuguese creoles developed an

“inferiority complex.” For these, the Portuguese language came to represent

the lifestyle and lowly social status of the shop-keepers. Instructed in the

“high-prestige” language of the schools (cf. Dabène 21), they came to devalue

their linguistic and cultural heritage, and instead learned

much that was harmful – to be ashamed of the fat greasy, very human
Father who had slept beneath his dirty counter in order to accumulate
wealth for them, instead of being proud of his successful struggle in a
foreign land. (de Boissière 19)

While not all Portuguese creoles shared such a strong negative reaction, it was

generally true that the Portuguese language and culture became increasingly

alien to the educated creoles in particular. Attitudes towards the language

135
Two informants recall being laughed at in school, since they were Portuguese
speakers and spoke English with a Portuguese accent.
ranged from indifference to rejection. Those whose ancestors had left behind

extreme poverty in Madeira, and who had managed to conquer their

circumstances in Trinidad to scale the social ladder were often the most

hostile towards their ethnic tongue. However, the few immigrants who

arrived with a background of wealth and prestige in Madeira took pride in

their ethnic roots. Some of these not only encouraged the use of Portuguese at

home, but chose to and were able to send their children to Madeira for

schooling and holidays.

Parents knew from experience that a good command of English was

necessary to advance socio-economically, and many therefore did not

encourage their children to learn Portuguese. The twentieth century

immigrant who reportedly took “night lessons” to improve his command of

English, as noted earlier, still wanted his children (among whom was

informant B09) to learn it because of his pride in his mother tongue, and tried

to encourage them with a bilingual teaching guide. Reis notes that the

Madeirans in general acquired “a fairly good speaking and reading knowledge

of the English language” (Associação Portugueza 133). Many Portuguese

immigrants initially did not see English as a threat to their own language.

Bilingualism was favoured by those who saw a good command of English as

beneficial and advantageous, and the retention of Portuguese as expected and

worthwhile for cultural purposes. Such an attitude of linguistic tolerance was

probably the first weakness in the immigrants’ defence of their language, and

English won the most decisive victory over Portuguese in the attitude of the
Portuguese towards their own language, whether that attitude had apathy or

denial as its basis.

Language attitudes, such as language loyalty, decide to a large extent

the choice of language as well as the ultimate fate of the language in an

immigrant group. Whether consciously predetermined or not, language

attitudes are subject to influence from external factors, such as socio-

economic pressures. Such factors include separation from the country of

origin, numerical weakness, urbanisation, growing occupational

diversification, a tendency towards upward mobility, ethnolinguistic

intermarriage, and pressure to adopt English on the job and in the school. The

need for financial survival and stability swept aside patriotic feelings and

signalled the ultimate demise of the Portuguese language. These factors have

all contributed towards the change in language attitudes in favour of English.

It may therefore be said that the major mono-generational and cross-

generational shifts in language loyalty came about mainly as a result of

external socio-economic pressures.

In Mohan’s view, “the upwardly mobile sections of the community are

generally the first to abandon the now nonadaptive ethnic language” (“A

Language Implodes” 42). Nelde also sees a relationship between “increasing

G(N)P and regression of the mother tongue” (80). This surely holds true for

the immediate descendants of the early poor Madeirans who not only needed

English to survive but to advance socio-economically. In the nineteenth

century, even if the inclination were strong, there were probably few with the
time and the means to keep in contact with Madeira.

The experiences of the nineteenth century immigrants were a good

deal different from those of the twentieth century immigrants. While not

affluent, some of the latter had some financial assets and were not as poor as

their nineteenth century predecessors. Furthermore, employment struggles in

Trinidad were not as great by the 1900s. Nor was social acceptance as

difficult. The settled and increasingly bilingual Portuguese community acted

as a support for the modern migrants against the hardships faced by the

earliest immigrants. For many twentieth century arrivals, therefore, financial

success came more rapidly than for their nineteenth-century counterparts.

For the more recent migrants, saudade(s) (nostalgia) for Madeira has

been particularly strong. This yearning for Madeira has been stimulated by a

number of factors, including literacy, prosperity and modern technology. The

spread of literacy in the twentieth century has meant that recent migrants are

literate and have been able to maintain regular contact with family members in

Madeira, Brazil, Venezuela and elsewhere. The exchange of letters and

photographs has been much more commonplace in this century. Although the

Trinidadian-born Portuguese usually do not speak or read Portuguese,

communication with relatives in Madeira has been aided for some by the

increasingly widespread use of English in Madeira, a traditional resort for

British tourists. A few families have thus been able to preserve family ties

through letters written in English, from the 1940s to the present. This

includes some Trinidadian-born Portuguese who belong to families with at

least one Madeiran-born parent. The Madeiran-born wrote in Portuguese if

they were literate, as they mostly were in this century. There is generally a

corresponding link between those who have managed to preserve ties with

Madeira, and the few who have managed to preserve some understanding of

the language. A few among the more successful immigrants of the late

nineteenth to early twentieth centuries were able to manage visits by boat (and

later by aeroplane) to Madeira for the purpose of a holiday or business or

both. As noted earlier, if the immigrants were socially established in Madeira

or wealthy on arrival, greater efforts were often made to preserve their mother

tongue.

Modern technology, including the telephone and aviation, has also

proven to be a vital link for families. Many recent immigrants have returned

to Madeira to visit relatives and to take care of family matters there. Of late, a

few Trinidadian-born families have also visited relatives there. Other factors,

apart from financial mobility, such as those of recent twentieth century

migration and parental maintenance of kinship links, have been equally

important.

The following tree represents one family for whom the Portuguese

language did not survive past the first creole generation. Informant B09,

grandmother of the author, attributes her learning of Portuguese not to her

Madeiran father, nor to her semi-speaker creole Portuguese mother, but to her

paternal aunt. Through time spent with her aunt who migrated to Trinidad

after her father did, she was able to practise her Portuguese on a fairly regular
basis. Although her father tried to teach her Portuguese, and although her

mother could speak some, it was mainly through interaction with her aunt that

she learned to speak and understand her ethnic language.

 Figure 3
Language Death in Two Generations:
The Family Tree of Informant B09
 Both trees represented here are of Catholic informants with one native

lusophone immigrant parent. Informant B06 is male, and his lusophone

parent is his mother, and informant B09 is female, and her lusophone parent is

her father. The two informants belong to different generations and eras.

While informant B09 is now 93 years of age, informant B06 of the preceding

tree is now 45 years old. They also grew up under very different

circumstances, and belong to different social classes. Their formal education

was very different, primary for informant B09 and tertiary for informant B06,

and this is a result of differences in age, era, sex, and opportunity. Although

informant B09 visited Madeira and continental Portugal twice, the visits were

very short and she was never able to meet her cousins with whom she

corresponded. As a semi-speaker with decreasing exposure to the language,

her command of the language, active and passive, has been greatly weakened

over time. Informant B06, on the other hand, continues to maintain contact

with Madeira and Portugal, and his language skills are still applauded by

native speakers.

The Death of the Portuguese Language in Trinidad

Despite all of these considerations, the main obstacle that has stood in

the way of modern language maintenance is the much reduced size of the

community and in particular, the fact that there are no young native

Portuguese speakers. There are, however, several individuals of Portuguese

descent who have become interested in the language of their parents and
grandparents and have attempted to study Portuguese formally. Because an

unstable foundation was laid in the past for the present and future, these recent

attempts at language revival by only a few have not been successful. Valiant

though these personal efforts have been, Mohan notes that

living languages do not die when the last trace of memory has
vanished. They are actually dead much before this, but may be lent an
artificial semblance of life by sympathetic post-users from outside its
system. (“A Language Implodes” 42)

In the case of Portuguese in Trinidad, the “last trace of memory” has

not yet vanished, but the language died when the majority of its native

speakers died. The generally held view that the passing on of the last few

native speakers of the language is the cause of the death of the language is

therefore an oversimplified one. A language facing obsolescence dies before

all of its speakers do, since the genesis of language obsolescence lies, to a

large extent, in language attitudes.

The Portuguese language has long passed into its final stage of

obscurity and disuse in Trinidad. Mohan comments that an obsolescent

language

is actually dead before its forms have totally disappeared, in two

different senses. A small part of the non-native speaking generation
has preserved dead tokens of the language. Also, the time gap
between the age of the youngest native speaker and the latest possible
age of language acquisition, in infancy, shows the language dead at its
source, but with a now finite community of native speakers continuing,
like the earlier light of a dead star, to travel its original course and give
an illusion picture of vitality. (313)

In spite of the fact that there are a few from the “native speaking generation”

left today, the structures were not put in place to keep the language alive,
necessary and desirable among successive generations.

The only aspect of the Portuguese language in Trinidad that will

predictably survive is onomastic. Many do not know the meanings, but their

family names will survive even after all trace of Portuguese has completely

vanished from memory. Once again, it is useful to quote Reis who notes that

intermarriage between individuals from differing ethnic backgrounds has led

to the obvious and “inevitable tendency” towards the diffusion of the

Portuguese creole group. This “racial crossing” turn has resulted in the fact

that “only the historical continuity of surnames survives today in regard to a

large number of these creoles” (130–31). It is important to note that

‘intermarriage’ is not only ethnic, but can be linguistic as well. Differing

linguistic backgrounds of marriage partners, whether ethnically Portuguese or

not, was a major factor in language obsolescence.

Although there are Trinidadians and Tobagonians of Portuguese origin

who recall a few words and phrases in Portuguese, as a group they have not

donated any lasting lexical items to Trinidadian and Tobagonian English.

Even the last vestiges of Portuguese phonology have been fully destabilised,

and are rapidly disappearing from memory and use.

While language survival may be partially dependent on socio-

historical circumstances, including the size of the group and the community’s

social standing and ability to return often to the centre of the L1, these remain

external to the individual speaker. Above all other reasons, it would appear

that intertwined social and psychological factors, such as language attitudes

and language loyalty, are responsible for determining the life cycle of a

language.
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 APPENDICES

APPENDIX A
PROFILES OF INFORMANTS

N.B.: Symbols: G1 (Creole Generation 1), G2 (Creole Generation 2), and G3

(Creole Generation 3)

Group A – The Madeirans

A01
MABJA
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: August 1915; Funchal, Madeira (d. December 1997,
Port-of-Spain)
Date of arrival: 1933
Marital status: Single
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Not applicable
Number of children: One
Place of residence: Belmont; Diego Martin; later St. James, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: Portuguese
Language history: Educated in French at Italian school; followed her two
brothers to Trinidad at the age of 18 because of the death of her parents, and
because of economic difficulties in Madeira in general; known by family as
Bibinha; continued using the language after arrival with relatives, including
sister-in-law, and family servant; taught Portuguese to son, who also learned
from servant, and who could understand his mother, and converse to some
extent; son too shy to speak to anyone else in Portuguese and never knew his
father, of Afro-Trinidadian orgin; somewhat ostracised from others in
community because of son’s father, but continued to speak, sing and write in
Portuguese to those who understood; when talking in Portuguese, code-mixing
often occurred, especially re: Trinidadian cultural phenomena, such as parang;
maintained contact with family and friends in Madeira
Language attitude: Positive
Dates and places of interviews: First interview, Diego Martin 10 February
1989; others in St. James from 1993 to 1994, and in 1996

A02
GMF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: May 1931, Santa Maria Maior, Madeira
Date of arrival: 1958
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Mixed (Euro-Indo-Trinidadian); Trinidad
& Tobago
Number of children: None
Place of residence: St. Ann’s, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: English
Language history: Migrated to work for creole Portuguese cousin who married
a Portuguese citizen; returns to Madeira often; appears to speak very little
Portuguese in Trinidad, except with those who are speakers, such as B;
maintains contact with family and friends in Madeira, and continues to read
and listen to music in Portuguese; continues to visit Madeira and Portugal;
taught wife some words and phrases
Language attitude: Negative
Date and place of interview: Aldegonda Park, St. Ann’s, Port-of-Spain 1994

A03
JJP
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: December 1916, Caniço, Madeira
Date of arrival: February 1939
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Mixed, mainly Chinese; Trinidad &
Tobago
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: U.S.A.
Language of the home: English
Language history: Migrated to work for friends; taught wife and children a
few words and phrases; speaks little Portuguese in Trinidad, and
communicates mainly in English
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Federation Park, Port-of-Spain March 1993

A04
MIMP
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: 1933, Funchal, Madeira
Date of arrival: 1947
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese (G1), Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Four
Place of residence: Pt. Cumana
Language of the home: English, some Portuguese
Language history: Migrated to join family; taught daughters (including
informant B05) some words and expressions only; speaks little Portuguese in
Trinidad; maintains contact with family in Madeira and has returned with
family for visits.
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Goodwood Park, Pt. Cumana, 10 July 1993
A05
MMRP
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: July 1902, Estreito de Câmara de Lobos, Madeira (d.
1996, Mt. Lambert)
Date of arrival: July 1921
Marital status: Widowed
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese; Madeira, Portugal
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: Mt. Lambert
Language of the home: some Portuguese, mainly English
Language history: Migrated to join husband; returned to Madeira twice;
continued to write (letters, a book of songs) in Portuguese, and speak to those
who understood; maintained contact with family in Madeira and Venezuela;
was visited by nephew living in Madeira; mother of informant B07
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Mt. Lambert, first interview 12 March 1993,
others in 1994 and 1996

A06
JTN
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1912, Madeira (d. 1996, Port-of-Spain)
Date of arrival: 1938
Marital status: Widowed
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: other Euro-Trinidadian; Trinidad &
Tobago
Number of children: One
Place of residence: Woodbrook, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: English
Language history: Returned for visits with daughter; maintained contact with
family in U.S.A., Brazil and Venezuela
Language attitude: Indifferent
Date and place of interview: Woodbrook, Port-of-Spain, 25 April 1989
Group B – First Generation Portuguese Creoles, with at least one Portuguese-
born parent

B01
BGB
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: Unknown
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese
Marital status: Widowed
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Italian
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: Portuguese and other
Language history: Schooled in Madeira
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Diego Martin, March 1994

B02
LFCJ
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1924, Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Madeira, Portugal (father
came in 1896, and mother in 1906)
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Three?
Place of residence: Westmoorings?
Language of the home: English
Language history: Unknown whether Madeiran father spoke Portuguese in the
home
Language attitude: Indifferent
Date and place of interview: Broadway, Port-of-Spain, 15 April 1994

B03
ACJ
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1959, Diego Martin
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal
(born 1924, came 1931); Mother – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Single
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Not applicable
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: English
Language history: Father migrated to Trinidad at the age of 7; remembers
parents being involved in the Associação Portuguesa and the Portuguese Club;
lived in Australia for some time; not interested in foreign languages
Language attitude: Negative
Date of interview: Balandra, 30 August 1992

B04
ADC
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: 1910, Guyana
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal;
Mother – Guyana
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Two
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: English
Language history: Knows various aspects of Madeira; remembers food games;
husband (now deceased) often played bisca with a Madeiran friend, who says
that “Portuguese [in Trinidad] is a dead language.”
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Goodwood Gardens, Diego Martin, 28 May
1992.

B05
DPF
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: Pt. Cumana
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese (G1); Father – Trinidad &
Tobago; Mother – Madeira, Portugal (see A04)
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Other Euro-Trinidadian; Trinidad &
Tobago
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: Petit Valley
Language of the home: English
Language history: Youngest of 4 girls; learned a few words from her mother
who had to communicate with her father in English; took a course in
(Brazilian) Portuguese at the U.W.I.
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: U.W.I., 1990 and Petit Valley 1994

B06
JEF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: October 1953, Cascade, Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father (G1) – Trinidad &
Tobago; Mother – Portugal (b. 1924 in Inhambé, Mozambique)
Marital status: Single
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: French; France
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: St. Clair, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: Portuguese
Language history: Learned from mother and from servants from Madeira;
father was honorary vice-consul for Madeira; Portuguese was the L1 of all
four of his siblings; brother recalls being ridiculed in school for not speaking
English well; maintains contact with family and friends in Madeira; continues
to speak, though infrequently
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 22 March 1994 and 1995

B07
APF
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: St. Joseph
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Madeira, Portugal (see
informant A05)
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Mixed, part-Portuguese; Trinidad &
Tobago
Number of children: One
Place of residence: Mt. Lambert
Language of the home: Portuguese in early years; English
Language history: Sent to Catholic convent boarding school in Grenada
Language attitude: Negative
Date and place of interview: Mt. Lambert, 12 March 1993

B08
ISF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1928, Chaguanas
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal
(born 1875); Mother – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Spanish; Venezuela
Number of children: Five
Place of residence: Pt. Cumana
Language of the home: English
Language history: Father died young; in contact with Madeira and Portugal
because of position as honorary consul, but speaks no Portuguese; has visited
Madeira and regained contact with family there
Language attitude: Indifferent
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 9 December 1992 and 1994

B09
MEPSF
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: March 1906, Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal;
Mother (G1) – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Widowed
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese (G1); Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Fourteen
Place of residence: Newtown, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: English; some Portuguese
Language history: Eldest of 7; parents spoke Portuguese together sometimes,
but not to children; could understand some, but did not speak it; father was too
busy with the grocery to teach, and mother was also busy; father gave children
a book to try to encourage them to learn; paternal aunt (“Titia”) came from
Madeira before 1921 and died in 1943; attributes her learning of Portuguese to
the time spent with aunt; could not depend on parents for translation, so
learned some; aunt described mother’s Portuguese as ‘ungrammatical’; other
siblings spoke to aunt in English when she had learned some, rarely in
Portuguese; on maternal side, Guyanese-born grandfather spoke Portuguese
with Madeiran grandmother, who could speak some English; married a
monolingual G1 creole who knew only a swear word or two, and the tune of
the Portuguese national anthem (met through fathers in similar businesses);
maintained contact with cousins in Madeira, but in English; father talked
proudly of Madeira; visited Madeira in-transit twice and was able to
communicate; noted difference in Madeiran and Lisbon Portuguese; aunt said
it was more refined; prefers sound of French; remembers anthem, none of
songs that father sang, and some expressions; would have liked to learn more
Portuguese if younger because it is her father’s people’s language; mother of
informants CA01, CA02, CA03 and CA04; grandmother of author
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Newtown, Port-of-Spain 11 March 1989 and
Newtown and Petit Valley 1989 to 1996

B10
MATF
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: January 1941, Santa Cruz
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal;
(born 1909, came 1928); Mother (G1) – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese (G2); Trinidad & Tobago (a
son of informant B09)
Number of children: Two
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: English
Language history: Reports that the Portuguese language was deliberately used
to exclude children from adults conversations; father died when she was
relatively young
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Diego Martin, December 1998

B11
MDG
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: 1913, Newtown, Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Madeira, Portugal
Marital status: Single
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Not applicable
Number of children: None
Place of residence: St. Clair, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: Portuguese
Language history: Learned Portuguese and English simulataneously, possibly
Portuguese first; said mother learned English fast; went to Madeira at age of 8
for a year or more, and could not speak English on return to Trinidad;
Portuguese was always spoken in the house, though claims it was not always
grammatical; can read it, but needs dictionary to write; knowing Portuguese
helped with French and Spanish at secondary school with gender, and those
other languages helped with Portuguese grammar; noted importance of mother
speaking Portuguese; half-brother educated in Madeira from 2 to 14, and
eventually became consul; has visited 9 times in all (up to 1987); Madeiran
traditions continued in home, like bisca and embroidery; continues to speak
with sister, and friends; maintains contact with Madeira; grew up with other
G1 children most of whom spoke English; despite tight network, parents said
it was more important to marry a Catholic than to marry a Portuguese; noted
that other families with native-speaker parents did not speak Portuguese in the
home; proud to be both Trinidadian and Portuguese; related by marriage to
nephew of informant B09
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: St. Clair, Port-of-Spain, March 1989

B12
CG
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: 1928, Curepe
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Madeira, Portugal (father
born 1886, came 1903)
Marital status: Single
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Not applicable
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Curepe
Language of the home: Portuguese
Language history: In the past, was at the forefront of Portuguese community
activities; maintains contact with relatives in Madeira; speaks Portuguese with
nieces at home, partly so that the helpers would not understand; aunt of
informant CB04.
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Curepe, 1990

B13
EMM
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1930, Siparia
Ethnicity of and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal
(father born 1886, came 1914); Mother – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Mixed; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Two
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home:
Language history: Mother read and wrote Portuguese; remembers some
expressions; family kept correspondence and photographs from Madeira; has
forgotten a lot, except for food names, swear words and commands; would
like to visit, and would have like to learn more
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Diego Martin, 27 May 1992

B14
MP
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth:
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Madeira, Portugal (father
born 1890)
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Lebanese; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: ?
Place of residence: West?
Language of the home: Portuguese and English
Language history: Left Trinidad at age 4; on return, parents encouraged him to
speak English because of problems with school colleagues who mocked and
taunted him
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Pt. Cumana, 10 July 1994

B15
ENP
Sex: Female
Date of birth: December 1903, Arima
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal,
Mother (G1) – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Widowed
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese
Number of children: Three (one married an Azorean)
Place of residence: Woodbrook, Port-of-Spain; now Canada
Language of the home: English
Language history: Secondary school education and private music tuition;
heavily involved in Associação Portuguesa and Portuguese Club; learned
some phrases and greetings; can play Portuguese anthem by ear, but knows
only a few words; as a child, showed interest in the language, but father never
had time and mother did not speak it; refers to English names as ‘regular’
names, indicating that Portuguese was foreign; remembers some food names
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 16 February 1989

B16
JRS
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1926, Chaguanas
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father – Portuguese, Madeira, Portugal
(born 1895, came 1908); Mother – Mixed: Portuguese, other Euro-Trinidadian
and Venezuelan Amerindian, Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Other Euro-Trinidadian and Portuguese;
Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Four
Place of residence: Westmoorings
Language of the home: English
Language history: Father migrated at the age of 13, with primary education;
learned English, and some Chinese and “Hindi” in Trinidad; heard fado
records growing up; mother played the piano and sang in Portuguese and
English; knows very little in Portuguese apart from food names
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and Place of Interview: Westmoorings, 21 July 1992

B17
AMX
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1946, Corinth, San Fernando
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal
(b. 1900, came c.1916); Mother – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Two
Place of residence: St. Joseph Village, San Fernando
Language of the home: English
Language history: Very little exposure to Portuguese growing up, because
mother was English-speaking and father died while very young; family still in
contact with family in Madeira; brother of informants B17 and B18
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 12 November 1992

B18
JJX
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1961, San Fernando
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Mother
(G2) – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Mixed; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Corinth, San Fernando
Language of the home: English
Language history: Youngest of 9; father died in 1961, so never heard
Portuguese in the home; has made efforts to learn Brazilian Portuguese at
NIHERST, and tries to practise with expatriate friends from Portugal and Goa;
maintains contact with relatives in Madeira who speak English; brother of
informants B16 and B18
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Corinth, San Fernando, October 1992

B19
MX
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1950, San Fernando
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese; Father – Madeira, Portugal
(b. 1900, came c.1916); Mother – Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Four
Place of residence: Maraval
Language of the home: English
Language history: Very little exposure to Portuguese growing up, because
mother was English-speaking and father died while very young; family still in
contact with family in Madeira; brother of informants B16 and B17
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 12 November 1992
Group CA – Second Generation Portuguese Creoles, whose parents are both
Portuguese Creoles

CA01
ENF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth:
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese (G1), Trinidad & Tobago; son
of informant B09
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Chinese and mixed; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: English
Language history: Recalls hearing Portuguese growing up, as it was spoken by
his mother and her aunt; brother of informants CA02, CA03 and CA04.
Language attitude: Negative
Date and place of interview: Diego Martin, 12 June 1992

CA02
JEDF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese (G2); Trinidad & Tobago; son
of informant B09
Marital status: Divorced
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Indo-Trinidadian; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Santa Rosa, Arima
Language of the home: English
Language history: Only remembers one swear word, and the name of one
Portuguese dish; brother of informants CA01, CA03 and CA04.
Language attitude: Negative – sees no practical use for Portuguese
Date and place of interview: Santa Rosa, Arima, 15 June 1992

CA03
JRF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1931, Guaico, Tamana, Sangre Grande
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese (G2); Trinidad & Tobago; son
of informant B09
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Mixed; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: Petit Valley
Language of the home: English
Language history: Eldest surviving son of 14 children; recalls hearing
Portuguese spoken by his mother to her aunt, but never learned any of it,
except “Titia,” or “auntie”, and only remembered two other words after
prompting from youngest brother (informant CA02); brother of informants
CA01 and CA04; father of author
Language attitude: A combination of nostalgic and indifferent
Date and place of interview: Petit Valley, 10 April 1992 and after

CA04
MREFG
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: 1926, Scarborough
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese (G2); Trinidad & Tobago;
daughter of informant B09
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese (G3); Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Seven
Place of residence: Newtown, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: English
Language history: Heard Portuguese spoken by great-aunt, but only picked up
an exclamation of anger, and some food names; sister of informants CA01,
CA02 and CA03.
Language attitude: Negative
Date and place of interview: Newtown, Port-of-Spain, 15 March 1992

CA05
JWQ
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1953, San Fernando
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Portuguese (G1); Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Indo-Trinidadian; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Marabella, San Fernando
Language of the home: English
Language history: Head some Portuguese growing up; remembers a few
words, such as food names, place names, numerals, insults
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Diego Martin, 22 December 1992, 1994, 1996
Group CB – Other Portuguese Creoles, with only one Portuguese Creole
parent

CB01
JDC
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1927, Santa Cruz
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father – Portuguese (G2), Trinidad &
Tobago; Mother – Other Euro-Trinidadian, Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Other Euro-Trinidadian, Trinidad &
Tobago
Number of children: Five
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: English
Language history: Presbyterian, so English was in the family since the
nineteenth century, and lost quite early
Language attitude: Negative
Date and place of interview: Diego Martin, 21 July 1992

CB02
CF
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1956, Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father – Portuguese (G2), Trinidad &
Tobago; Mother – Other Euro-Trinidadian, Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: German; U.S.A.
Number of children: Two
Place of residence: Pt. Cumana
Language of the home: English
Language history: No exposure at all to Portuguese language
Language attitude: Nostalgic, would love to know
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 28 May 1992

CB03
GCG
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1912, Port-of-Spain (d. 1993, Port-of-Spain)
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father (G2) – Portuguese; Antigua,
Mother – other Euro-Trinidadian, Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Portuguese and other Euro-Trinidadian;
Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: Three
Place of residence: Newtown, Port-of-Spain
Language of the home: English
Language history: Educated up to 4th Standard, but continued to read avidly,
and described himself as self-taught; considered himself Portuguese because
of his father, but had no pride in the Portuguese language; taught not to like
Portuguese – said his “mind was conquered”; grew up hearing and
understanding Portuguese, especially in the shops, and was certain he would
have been able to speak it fluently if encouraged; sang in Portuguese as a
choir boy; spoke some but lost use of it, and admitted to need for prompting to
remember some words and phrases; recalled flogging from boys in school for
being Portuguese; remembered most food names, Bendita Seijais, benção,
some greetings, and other phrases
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 7 and 12 December 1992

CB04
PGG
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth: 1946, Curepe
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father: Portuguese (G1), Mother: Other
Euro-Trinidadian; Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: French; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: None
Place of residence: Diego Martin
Language of the home: English
Language history: Grew up with her paternal aunt of creole Portuguese origin;
learned Portuguese at an early age, and continued learning while working at
the Brazilian Embassy; took course in Brazilian Portuguese at the U.W.I.;
niece of informant B12, also related by marriage to informant B10.
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: Curepe, 1990

CB05
BT
Sex: Male
Date and place of birth: 1950, Port-of-Spain
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father: English, Trinidad & Tobago.;
Mother – Portuguese (G1), Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Single
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Not applicable
Number of children: None
Place of residence: St. Augustine
Language of the home: English; some Portuguese
Language history: Food, festas, Portuguese, mother (songs); son of an
Englishman and a Portuguese Trinidadian, who passed on her knowledge of
and love for things Madeiran; reinforced by uncles, aunts and cousins who
spoke Portuguese. Grew up with elders in family and knows more than his 2
sisters; grew up in an area where few Portuguese live, and close to only other
Portuguese family.
Language attitude: Positive
Date and place of interview: St. Augustine, 1989, 1992, 1996

CB06
LSR
Sex: Female
Date and place of birth:
Ethnicity and nationality of parents: Father – Portuguese, Trinidad &
Tobago?; Mother – Afro-Trinidadian; Trinidad & Tobago
Marital status: Married
Ethnicity and nationality of spouse: Indo-Trinidadian; Trinidad & Tobago
Number of children: ?
Place of residence: Port-of-Spain ?
Language of the home: English, some Portuguese
Language history: Father taught them some greetings and useful phrases, but
the children never learned the language formally
Language attitude: Nostalgic
Date and place of interview: Port-of-Spain, 1994
 APPENDIX B
QUESTIONNAIRE
(PART I)
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS AND BACKGROUND

Date and place of interview:

Name of interviewee (or anonymous):
1. Sex:
2. Date of birth:
3. Place of birth:
4. Religion
5. Education received:
6. Occupation:
7. Current marital status:
If ever married, to which ethnic/racial group does your spouse belong?
(Please specify.)
8. Number of children:

FAMILY BACKGROUND

9. Date and place of birth of parents:

(If born outside of Trinidad and Tobago, please give year of arrival, if
known, or an approximate date.)
Father .........................................
Mother .........................................
10. Ethnic origin of parents (if mixed, please specify):
Father .........................................
Mother .........................................
11. Religion of parents:
Father .........................................
Mother .........................................
12. Place of birth of grandparents:
(If born outside of Trinidad and Tobago, please give year of arrival, if
known, or an approximate date.)
Paternal grandfather ............................
Paternal grandmother ............................
Maternal grandfather ............................
Maternal grandmother ............................
13. Occupations of parents:
Father ..........................................
Mother ..........................................
14. Education of parents:
Father ..........................................
Mother ..........................................
15. How many brothers and sisters do you have?
(PART II)
PORTUGUESE CULTURE AND LANGUAGE

Date and place of interview:

Name of interviewee or anonymous:

1. As a child, were you familiar with any of the following Madeiran

dishes and delicacies?
(a) Carne vinha-d’alhos (garlic pork/“calvinadage”) and fried
bread
(b) Malassadas (made from a type of pancake mixture, shaped like
a ball, with syrup)
(c) Bolo do mel (molasses cake)
(d) Cebolas de escabeche (pickled onions)
(e) Milho (cornmeal)
(f) Cuscus (wheat grains)
(g) Calda galinha (chicken in gravy)
(h) Soupa do couve (cabbage soup)
(i) Bacalhau (salted cod, or “saltfish”)
(j) Chouriço (type of spicy sausage)
(k) Broas (type of biscuits)
(l) Tremoços (lupine seeds)
(m) Portuguese bread (please specify)
(n) Any other ......................
2. Were the above part of your daily or typical fare? If so, which ones?
(Use corresponding letters.)
3. Were any prepared on special occasions? If so, which and when?
(Use corresponding letters, e.g. (a) – Christmas only.)
4. Which, of the above, if any, do you still enjoy and prepare?
............................................................
5. Do you know the above by
(a) The Portuguese names given above Yes No
(b) English names only
(c) Other names
(d) Other spellings and/or pronunciations?
..............................................................................................................
6. Do you know any songs (words and/or tunes) in Portuguese (e.g., the
Portuguese national anthem, and/or any others)?
7. If no, would you like to?
8. Are you familiar with any other spects of Madeiran culture (such as
typical dances, etc.)?
Yes No
9. Did you grow up hearing Portuguese spoken in your home?
If yes, by whom? (State relationship to the Portuguese speaker(s)).
........................................................
10. Do you speak any Portuguese?
11. Do you understand Portuguese?
12. Do you still have relatives in Madeira you know of and with whom
you or other members of your family are still in contact?
Yes No
13. (a) Have you ever visited Madeira?
Yes No
(b) If yes, how many times and when?
(c) Do you plan any future trips?
Yes No
14. Are you or have you ever been involved with :
(a) A Associação Portuguesa (the Portuguese Association)?
Yes No
(b) The Portuguese Club?
Yes No
(Please specify the level of your involvement – whether active
member, lady social member, regular participant in activities, e.g. dances,
fêtes, carnival activities, banquets, Portuguese Republic Day and other official
celebrations, etc.)
.......................................................................................................................
............................................................
15. Were/are your parents or other relatives involved in the above clubs?
Please specify.
Yes No
16. Have you ever played ‘bisca’ or other Portuguese games (including
children’s games and song games)? Please specify.
Yes No
17. Any other volunteered information:
............................................................
 APPENDIX C
CONSULATE FILES

LIVROS DE MATRÍCULA
(Certificados de Inscrição)
Volumes A1, A2, B and C

12 de Septembro de 1917 até 15 de Julho de 1936

#9–709 and #1–300

Talão de ...........................................................
Certificado de Inscrição No. .......................…
Passado a .........................................................
Nascido em ......................................................
Filiação ............................................................
Data de nascimento .........................................
Sitio ............................................................
Freguesia ..........................................................
Conselho ..........................................................
Districto ...........................................................
Morada136 ............................................................

SINÃES
Altura ..........................................................
Rosto ...........................................................
Cabelo .........................................................
Barba ...........................................................
Olhos ...........................................................
Nariz ............................................................
Boca ............................................................

SINÃES PARTICULARES

Este certificado é valido até a data de ...

e será considerado nulo se não for renovado antes de completar seismeses a
contar d essa mesma data.

Assinatura do Inscrito

136
Not in Vol. A1.
 Vol. D

8 de Outubro de 1947 até 3 de Dezembro de 1975

#301–399

Talão de ............................................................
Certificado de Inscrição
Data .................. de .................. de 19 ..................
Valido até .................. de .................. de 19 .........
Concedido ..........................................................
Filho de ........................................................ ......
e de ......................................................................
Natural de ............................................................
Freguesia de .........................................................
Concelho de ..........................................................
Nascido em .................. de .................. de 19 ................
Estado ............................................................
Profissão ........................................................
Última residência ............................................................
Residência do distrito Consular ......................................
Data da chegada .................. de .................. de 19 ...........
Provou a sua identidade ......................................................
Livro de Matricula No. .......................................................
No. da Inscrição .................................................................

“SINAIS.”
Altura ..................
Rosto ..................
Cabelo ..................
Barba ..................
Olhos ................
Nariz ................
Boca ................
Cor ..................

“SINAIS PARTICULARES.”

............................................................ Consul

Assinatura do Inscrito ..................

Pagou ..................
No. da Tabella ..................
No. da Receita ..................
 REGISTOS DE PASSAPORTES
Vol. 1 and 2

1 de Agosto de 1931 até 16 de Setembro de 1949

# 1A–212 and #213–347

TALÃO DE PASSAPORTE Nº

Expedido a cidadão português.

Estado ............................................................
Edade ............................................................
Naturalidade ............................................................
Profissão ............................................................
Filiação ............................................................
Destino ............................................................
(Matriculado neste Consulado desde ...............................)137

SINAIS

Estatura ......................................................
Cabelo .......................................................
Olhos .........................................................
Rosto .........................................................
Nariz ..........................................................
Boca ..........................................................
Barba .........................................................
Côr ............................................................

Sinais Particulares

............................................................

Observações ............................................................

Data ............................................................

Assinatura do portador ............................................

137
Not in all.
 Vol. 3

20 de Setembro de 1949 até 18 de Abril de 1963

#305–65

Passaporte número ..................................................

Concedido a ............................................................
Acompanhado de sua mulher ....................................................
e de .................. filhos ................................................
Profissão .........................................................
Naturalidade ...................................................
Data do nascimento .......................................
Estado ............................................................
Residencia ......................................................
Filiação ............................................................

Estatura ................................. Impressões digitais Fotografias

Olhos .........................................................
Cabelo .......................................................
Rosto .........................................................
Barba .........................................................
Côr ............................................................

Assinaturas:
do portador ............................................................
de sua mulher ............................................................

Filhos
Nome Idade Sexo
1. ............................................... ................ ................
2. ............................................... ................ ................
3. ............................................... ................ ................
4. ............................................... ................ ................

Paises para onde é valido este passaporte:–

Data .............................................. valido até ...........................................

Renovado em ...............................................

Observações

...............................................
 APPENDIX D
THE AZOREANS

The Historical Society of Trinidad and Tobago.

Publication No. 796.

A Petition from certain Portuguese Colonists to the Governor of Trinidad.

1835.

Source:– Truths from the West Indies. By Captain Studholme Hodgson (19th
Regiment of Foot). 1838.

1835.
To the Lieutenant Governor of Trinidad.

The humble Petition of the undersigned subjects of the Crown

of Portugal respectfully sheweth

That with many others of their countrymen, they were induced by

certain evil disposed persons, under false pretences, to quit their native
country, Fayal, to become agricultural labourers in this Colony.

Of the whole number thus cajoled, one third only are still in existence.
The rest have fallen victims to the unhealthiness of the climate or to the
cruelties of the slavery system to which we, equally with the unfortunate
blacks, have been subjected. For let speculators in human blood deny it as
they will, the awful calamity which has occurred among our countrymen, in so
short a period as ten months, must have resulted from one or the other of these
fatal causes, or from both combined.

Men, women and children, have suffered the greatest misery and
oppression on the several estates where they have been forced to work far
beyond their strength by coercion of the whip, without proper shelter at night
or adequate food during the day.

The consolation of religion has been denied them in the hours of

sickness and death; whilst the bodies of the miserable victims of avarice have
been thrown into holes and ditches without Christian burial.

The cries of the fatherless children and widows have been loud in the
land, but there was no response from Christian charity to soften their grief, no
arm of justice to relieve them from the hands of oppressors.

Few are they who are left to tell their tale of woe.
 Your Excellency has often been apprised of these truths but our
sufferings are unheeded. We have been advised that an appeal to the
Governor Genral for the information of His Britannic Majesty’s Government,
would be attended to; but we hope Your Excellency will obviate the necessity
for such an appeal by mercifully acceding to the prayer of your humble
petitioners;
which is
That Your Excellency will be pleased to collect together the few
Portuguese labourers yet in existence in this Colony;
That you will humanely relieve their immediate and pressing wants,
particularly those of the poor and helpless orphans;
And that you will cause them to be transported back to their native
country.

Rosa Constancia (who has lost her husband and three children in 10
months)
Felicia Perpetua de Castro (who has lost her husband and one child in
10 months)
Maria Constancia (who has lost two children in 10 months)
Mariana Francisca (who has lost four children in 10 months)
Josef Francisco Macieda (who has lost his wife and four children in 10
months)
Antonio Francisco Dabla (who has lost two children)
Anna Perpetua (the mother of seven children)
Francisco de Utro Perreira (whose wife and four children are at Fayal).
and 28 others.
The Historical Society of Trinidad and Tobago.
Publication No. 797.

A Petition from Josef da Costa, a Portuguese, to the Governor of Trinidad.

1835.

Source:– Truths from the West Indies. By Captain Studholme Hodgson (19th
Regiment of Foot). 1838.

1835.
To the Lieutenant Governor of Trinidad.

The humble Petition of Josef da Costa, free Portuguese by

birth, but now an apprenticed labourer, states

That he came to Trinidad on certain conditions and sailed from Fayal

on 31st October 1834. He and 27 others were clandestinely landed on the
north coasrest, 15 days after their arrival, were carried to Mr Graham’s estate
at Chaguanas. There they remained two months where they worked with the
negroes in the fields. The consequence was that they all fell sick and many
died.

The Petitioner and his wife were, through the humanity of Mr Graham,
removed to town and placed in Marie Ursula’s hospital where his unhappy
wife died.

After this, his services were bought by one Mr Lock and he was sent
down the coast where he was badly treated and, when unable to work as the
negroes did, cruelly beaten.

To escape from this misery, he left the estate on the 18th of the present
month, and is now lying in town in the last stages of misery and starvation.

He humbly implores that his case be inquired into;

Josef da Costa.

Witness; A. Shaw.

Historical Society of Trinidad and Tobago. Publications no. 796 and 797
 APPENDIX E
MADEIRAN IMMIGRATION

Ship News in the Port of Spain Gazette

Port of Spain Gazette, Tuesday, May 12, 1846 , p.2

“SHIP NEWS”

Arrived

9 May1846 – Barque Senator, Leister, Madeira; 219 immigrants

***

Port of Spain Gazette, September 18, 1846, p.2

“SHIP NEWS”

Arrived

September 16 – Ship William; Passengers - 57 men, 67 women, 64 children

(188), Dr. Steele and lady, L. Figueira, wife and 7 children (22 days out);
Madeira

***

Port of Spain Gazette, Friday, November 13, 1846, p.3

“SHIP NEWS”
Nov DAYS OUT
13 Barque Dalhousie, Wilkie, Greenock (79), Madeira 23

IMPORTATIONS

per Dalhousie, general cargo and Madeira wine

PASSENGERS ARRIVED
per Dalhousie, 67 men, 72 women, and 77 children, Madeira immigrants; Mrs.
Brown, Mrs. Wilkie, Miss Hunter, Dr. Robinson, Messrs. Brown, W. Mhittle,
and G. Brown

***
Port of Spain Gazette, Tuesday, November 9, 1847, p. 2/3

“SHIP NEWS”
Nov DAYS OUT
9 Barque Dalhousie, Wilkie, Greenock 60: Madeira 35

PASSENGERS ARRIVED
per Dalhousie, 78 Men, 97 Women, 92 Children (immigrants)

IMMIGRANTS
The Barque Dalhousie, Captain Wilkie, thirty-five days from Madeira, anchored
in our gulph on Sunday morning, having on board 267 immigrants men, women,
and children. They were all in good health and were landed in the course of
yesterday.

***
 Reports in the Port of Spain Gazette

Port of Spain Gazette, Tuesday, May 12, 1846, p.3

“ARRIVAL OF MADEIRA IMMIGRANTS”

The Barque Senator arrived here on Saturday last from Madeira, having
on board 219 immigrants, viz., 109 men, 91 women, and 19 children, all in
excellent health, and evidently hardy people inured to labor, and accustomed to
agricultural pursuits.

The Senator having been sent on to Madeira at the risk of certain parties
who clubbed together to bear her owners free of loss, in case of her not obtaining
her full complement of passengers, these parties were of course entitled to the
preference of the services of the Immigrants, and claimed them accordingly. But
looking at the influence which the success of these people, as Immigrants, may
have on the large body of their countrymen disposed to emigrate to any country
where their condition would be bettered, we could have wished that the parties
so entitled to the preference of the services of these people had been Cocoa
Planters, feeling as we do, convinced that the location of Madeirans on Cocoa
Estates is sure to be attended with the most complete success, and satisfaction to
both parties, employer and employed; whilst the benefit to the Sugar Planters
would have been ultimately just as great, these Immigrants displacing so many
native Laborers on the Cocoa Estates, who would then have sought employment
on the Sugar Properties. Could these people have been all located in one
Quarter, that of Santa Cruz for instance, they would have formed a little
community amongst themselves and a nucleus to which a much larger extent of
Immigration from the same source might ultimately be attracted. It was,
however, we believe, quite out of the power of the Government to interfere with
the arrangements, that had been made; nor would it have been fair to deprive
those who had incurred the risk and responsibility of failure, from reaping in the
most direct manner the advantages of success. But we trust some plan may yet
be devised by which a small colony of these people may be formed in some
peculiarly favorable locality, such as Santa Cruz, where they may thrive beyond
possibility of failure, and increase their numbers by furnishing to their friends
and relations in Madeira the means of emigrating to a spot which holds out so
many advantages to persons of their habits and description.

***
Port of Spain Gazette, Friday, October 23, 1846, p.2

“MADEIRA IMMIGRATION”

We insert the communication signed “EXPERTO CREDE,” on the

subject of Madeira Immigration, but whilst we give the writer every credit for
the humane motives by which he is actuated, and regret as deeply as himself the
fate of the considerable number of Madeira Immigrants by the Senator who have
found an early grave in a country where they no doubt looked forward to
materially improve their condition in life, we cannot concur with him in calling
on the local Government at once, and in toto, to abandon this brand of
Immigration in consequence of the unsuccessful results of one solitary
experiment, and in the teeth too, of the fact that Madeira Immigration is
succeeding elsewhere – in a Colony which is not one bit more healthy – one iota
less subject to “Fever and Malaria” than Trinidad.

As regards the immigration of Europeans to these Colonies with a view

to their employment in agricultural labor, we have more than once expressed our
opinion on the subject – that their constitutions could not stand the necessary
exposure to our tropical sun, and that the results of any experiment of this kind,
however carefully watched over, must end in total and lamentable failure; – but
as regards the natives of Madeira and the Canary Isles, the case appears to us
widely different. Their swarthy complexion indicates an African origin,
however remote; and they have not been reared amid the European change of
seasons, or accustomed to have the relaxing effect of a summer’s heat,
counteracted by the hard frosts of a bracing winter. To them, the mere change of
temperature can have little or no enervating effect, and all the danger to be
apprehended would appear to be the change from a remarkably dry climate to a
very moist one – from an Island where the air has been rendered of the very
purest by the long and thorough cultivation and exposure of the soil in every
direction, to another where cultivation is yet, comparatively speaking, in its
infancy and where virgin forests and rich morasses are only opened up at that
penalty which nature, in our tropical clime, seems invariably to attach to the
invasion of her choicest treasures.

Thus, from theory alone should we feel inclined to argue on this matter;
and whilst theory would appear opposed to fact, as regards Trinidad, in the
solitary instance of the Immigrants by the Senator, fact has, in British Guiana,
borne out the deduction of theory in every particular. There too, at the outset,
Portuguese immigration was derided and denounced as impracticable, there too,
probably, individual instances occurred like that of the Senator, which would
have seemed to shut out all hope of a general successful result; and yet this
immigration, unchecked by Government, receiving little or no support from the
Planters, has triumphed over every obstacle, and the number of Madeirans in
British Guiana exceeds 12,000 souls; and – until very lately indeed – this
immigration has been carried on through the agency of Madeiran Immigrants
themselves. The son has sent to Madeira for his father and mother – the brother
for his sisters and brethren. Surely these people, with their experience acquired
on the spot would not have sent for their relatives if they had not felt assured
their condition in life would be bettered by the change. This immigration has
now been going on for several years, and each year increasing in the ratio of
numerical progression, and yet we have never heard a word about the mortality
of the Portuguese in British Guiana.

But we are free to confess – whilst arguing that an Immigration which

has succeeded so well in British Guiana ought – pari passu – to succeed in
Trinidad – that we by no means contend there may not be adventitious
circumstances which may have made success in the one colony much easier of
attainment than it can possibly prove to the other. The origin and progress of
Madeiran Immigrants in British Guiana we believe to be briefly as follows: A
number of Madeiran Laborers were imported into that Colony under contracts to
the Planters. Of these many died. The survivors, after completing their contract,
took to huckstering – in which they displayed much skill and natural talent and
soon acquired the means of setting up small shops. The most industrious, from
small shops rose to large ones; and at this moment one-third at least of the retail
trade in Georgetown, and some part too of the wholesale. is carried on by
Portuguese. These people became the Agents of the Planters for the introduction
of their countrymen, and took care to send for such as were best suited to the
purpose – as had been brought up and inured from the childhood to agricultural
labor. When these Immigrants arrived they were duly cautioned what to do, and
what to avoid, and when they were taken with the usual “seasoning” fever, they
had the houses of their friends in Georgetown to resort to (and change of air in
many localities, as regards fever of this kind, is worth all the doctor’s
prescriptions that ever were compounded) they were, in short, among their
friends, their “own people” – and they soon got over the attack, and became
accustomed to the climate.

Of the immigrants by the Senator from the very first we heard bad
account. They did not appear to have been selected from the agricultural portion
of the Madeira population, but to have been the mere sweeping of the lanes and
crossings. Their extremely filthy habits were alone sufficient to prognosticate
their fate in a country where health depends so much on personal cleanliness. In
many cases it was impossible by threats or entreaties to induce them to take the
medicines prescribed by the Doctor, – and such as the climate seemed inclined to
spare and pass over, without exacting the usual “tribut de pays,” actually starved
themselves into sickness, by hoarding up the whole of their earnings and eating
every apology for food that came in their way, instead of laying out a portion of
their money in such wholesome sustenance as could alone enable them to
perform that fair portion of labor for which they were receiving wages.

Without, therefore, taking the extreme view of the case contended for by
our correspondent, we consider there is that in the fate of the Madeira
immigrants by the Senator, which, at any rate, “should give us a pause” – should
induce the Government to set about devising some other plan for the location of
Immigrants of this description than that hitherto pursued. What appears to us as
most required is a nucleus – a healthy and otherwise advantageous spot, in which
the first few hundred of these immigrants should be located to which the
subsequent arrivals would naturally flock, and where they would profit by the
local experience of their predecessors – avoid much that is baneful, and be
willing, on the advice of persons in whom they had confidence, to take those
necessary sanitary precautions which all immigrants, no matter from what
quarter of the globe, should adopt in establishing themselves in a climate which
cannot but differ in some respects from that to which they have hitherto been
accustomed. As regards the general interests of the colony, the result will be the
same. If 500 of these people were located in the healthy valley of Santa Cruz
picking cocoa, or growing provisions for the supply of the laborers of the Sugar
Planters, it would be just as advantageous to the interests of the Agricultural
body as a whole. if these people were scattered, to their own manifest discomfort
and discouragement, over fifty sugar plantations from Bande l’Est to Cedros.
Our wealth lies in our available labor for agriculture; and it matters little in
which quarter any given portion of it is grouped, or to what particular branch that
portion is applied.

To The Editor of the Port of Spain Gazette

“It’s no fish we’re buying, it’s men’s lives.” – ANTIQUARY

SIR, – I have read with pleasure, in your publication of Tuesday last, the 14th,
the communication addressed to His Excellency the Governor by “A Looker
On”.

With the general tenor of the observations by this intelligent writer, I feel
disposed on the whole cordially to agree. There is one portion, however, of his
letter which I think calls for remark, and I, therefore, venture to crave a brief
space in your valuable columns in order to endeavour, to the best of my ability,
to disabuse the public mind of what I conceive to be a grievous error, especially
when inculcated by one whose opinions must carry with them the weight due to
the advocacy of so (a)cute an observer, and so able a writer as the one in
question.

The paragraph I allude to, is the concluding one of the letter which
touches on Immigration.

The fact that Immigration (the “Emigration” of “A Looker On,” I

presume to be misprint) “is the chief panacea for our evils,” I assume as granted.
It is, indeed, a fact, which, to the unprejudiced mind can admit no controversy; it
is as patent as the sun at noon day. The system on which that immigration
should be carried on, and the source from whence the necessary supplies should
be obtained, are, I apprehend, the only points in the question on which any
difference of opinion can exist. With the former, it is not my object now to deal,
although I cannot avoid recording my assent to the opinion which the “Looker
On” expresses as to the fatal error at present in practice relative to the unequal
proportion between the sexes observed in the importation of the Coolies – an
error, as he truly observes, “the evils of which have not yet been realised fully”;
and, of which, the baneful effects, I am well assured, will ere long display
themselves in an amount which it is appalling to contemplate.

I much fear that the painful scene which was exhibited at the last
Criminal Sessions in which a Coolie played so degrading a part, will, unless the
present system be immediately and totally altered, be but the prelude to many a
similar shocking and disgusting exhibition; but enough of this. The source from
whence immigration may be best obtained, is the point on which I find myself at
issue with “A Looker On”, who, I am satisfied, does not speak from personal
experience, when he calls upon His Excellency “to loose (sic) no time in
appointing an agent at Madeira to overlook and encourage it from there.” Rather
would I on the other hand, in the sacred name of humanity, implore His
Lordship to lose no time in exerting to the utmost his official authority and
powerful influence to stay the further importation of a single individual from that
island to add to the number of these unfortunate beings who have, hitherto, come
from their own – it may be poor, but certainly healthy – country but to lay their
bones in the savannahs and grave yards of Trinidad!
Let no one call this an exaggeration. On the month of May last 219
individuals, men, women, and children, arrived in this island from Madeira in
the Barque “Senator”; scarcely five months have elapsed since they landed on
these shores, a fine, ruddy, sturdy-looking set of people; the men hale and
strong: the women neat and comely: the children rosy-cheeked and blooming
with health. Alas! where and what are they now! go and count the numbers that
now remain, and, verily, you will find that which will an awful tale unfold – a
sad and dismal group! Go and scan the wan and careworn features, the sunken
cheeks, the hollow eyes and wasted forms of those few on whom malaria and
fever have not yet done their fatal work, and you will behold a sight which must
move the sternest heart!

It is not now my purpose to enquire into the many causes which I

conceive combine to render these people unfitted for this climate, and above all,
for agricultural pursuits under its influence – suffice it for me to declare my
conviction, from what I have seen and heard,

“Teræque ipse miserima vidi”

that they are so. In the sacred name of humanity then, I repeat, let no further
efforts be made to entice them to emigrate to an Island where past experience
has taught us that they will find, instead of health and happiness, sickness and
misery; instead of a happy home, a foreign grave!

I trust, Sir, you will excuse the length to which these remarks have
unwantedly extended. It is a subject on which I feel strongly, and, therefore,
may have expressed myself in strong language; nothing, however, had been
farther from my intention than to give offence to any one in the observations I
have felt myself impelled, by a sense of duty, to offer for your acceptance on
this subject.

With reference to the communication which drew them from me, I can
only say that unless I am much deceived in the tone of mind which the general
spirit of the sentiment emanating from “A Looker On” appears to indicate, all in
favor, as that writer now is, of Immigration from Madeira, I am satisfied that the
cause of these poor deluded creatures would find in him a not less willing and
certainly an infinitely more able, advocate than (he ) ventures to address you,
had he only possessed with him an opportunity of signing himself.

Your obedient servant,

EXPERTO CREDE

23rd October, 1846

***

Port of Spain Gazette, Friday, November 6, 1846, p.3

“PORTUGUESE IMMIGRANTS”

We copy, for the information of our readers, the following notice issued
by the Agent General of Immigrants, with regard to future arrivals of Immigrants
from Madeira:–

PORTUGUESE LABORERS
NOTICE

The following Rules will be adopted respecting the next and any future
arrivals of Immigrants from Madeira.

The Immigrants will be permitted to remain on board ship for forty-eight

hours after the arrival of the vessel.

At the same time from the day of the ship’s arrival a locality in Port of
Spain will be appointed by the Government, which will be applied solely for the
use of the Immigrants until they have engaged themselves in service.
 The attention of the parties desirous of engaging the service of
Portuguese laborers is particularly directed to the eleventh Clause of the
Ordinance, “For regulating the relative rights and duties of Masters and
Servants,” which states:–

Clause XI. – And it be enacted, That no contract for service not made within this colony and
on the land of the colony shall be a contract within the meaning of this Ordinance, or valid and
binding on the parties thereto or any of them, unless such contract shall be in writing and shall be
made and entered into by the person who is therein bound to perform such service whilst such person
is within the limits of the Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, or in some other part of Europe, or in
the United States of America or some British Possession in North America, or in the West Indies; and
no contract for service shall be valid or binding on either of the parties thereto for any longer term
than the period of one year from the time when the service under such contract shall be commenced
according to the terms of the contract.

THOMAS F.
JOHNSTON,
Agent General Immigrants

Government House, 2nd Nov., 1846

The delay accorded the Immigrants on their arrival in the Colony before
removing their effects from on board ship, and the provision of some suitable
premises where they may stop until they can obtain suitable employment, are
measures which were much needed, and which we trust will have a most
beneficial effect.

With regard to the clause of the Masters and Servants’ Ordinance to

which the attention of the parties desirous of engaging the services of Portuguese
laborers is particularly directed, we presume it was the latter part of it – “and no
“contract for service shall be valid or binding on either of the “parties thereto for
any longer term than the period of one year “from the time,” &c. – which was
sought to be brought under notice; but on perusing carefully the first part of the
clause, we see – strange to say – that Madeira is not one of the places out of the
Colony where a contract for service can be legally entered into – the places
named are the Kingdom of Britain and Ireland, or some other part of Europe, or
the United States of America, or some British Possession in North America or
the West Indies. None of these descriptions will suit Madeira, and yet there is no
reason why the intelligent peasant of Madeira should not enter into a contract of
service to be performed in Trinidad as readily and at as little disadvantage as an
inhabitant of Portugal, Spain, France, or any other part of Europe. The omission
was evidently accidental, but it is well that public attention should – whether
purposely or not – be drawn to the circumstance – as parties here might have
procured contracts of service to be entered into at Madeira with laborers of that
Island, and have suffered serious loss and inconvenience from the afterwards
discovered nullity of such contracts.

***
Port of Spain Gazette, Friday, November 13, 1846, p.3

“IMMIGRATION FROM MADEIRA”

Within the short space of a week we have had two arrivals of Madeira
Immigrants, namely the Brig Peru on Saturday last, with upwards of 160, and
the Dalhousie, with 216. These Immigrants are equally proportioned as to sex,
and are of all ages. We understand they are all followers of Dr. KALLEY, and
certainly, to appearance, a much superior class of people in habits and manners
to those who have preceded them in this Colony. - Whether they have been
accustomed to agricultural pursuits in their own land is another point, and on
which we would be glad to be enabled to testify in the affirmative. They have
been provided by Government with a locale to remain in, till they can make
arrangements for their employment.

***

Port of Spain Gazette, Friday, November 13, 1846, p.3

Extracted from article “IMMIGRATION OF FREE LABOURERS”

...

... A free and constant stream of immigration is required for the Antilles.
It ought to be as full and as unintermitting, and as unchecked, as that which sets
in upon the United States from Europe. But from Europe, it will not flow in
such quantity, for the bulk of Europeans affect climates like their own. In the
West Indies the stream of immigration must be derived from congenial climates.
We are fond of Coolies as people; we believe Madeirans (and even Maltese,
though in the Levant they are looked upon as inferior even to the Greeks) may
be made to answer; but it is on the western coast of Africa that our attention is
riveted as the natural and sufficient source of West Indian immigration. Who
ever thought of Coolies or Madeirans until we were arbitrarily denied access to
the coast of Africa? We can get laborers there more plentiful than in Madeira, at
a less cost for passage than in India, and every way as effective as those brought
from either of the other quarters. In these days of free-trade we are entitled to
demand free-trade in labour. Let us hire our laborers in India, Africa, or the
Azores, as experience shall teach us is the most profitable.

***

COMMENT ON THE PORTUGUESE BY THE GOVERNOR, 1869

The Portuguese are numerically not unimportant but are neither wealthy nor
influential being chiefly small shopkeepers and gardeners. Entirely destitute of
all political views or objects, they would cheerfully submit to any changes which
did not interfere with their making and hoarding money, but they would never
take a single step to carry such changes into effect.

Gov. A.H. Gordon to Secretary of State Lord Granville, 24 May 1869 (Secret).
CO 295/247
(PRO, London)
 APPENDIX F
MADEIRANS IN GUYANA AND ST. VINCENT

Port of Spain Gazette, Tuesday, November 3, 1846, p.3

BRITISH GUIANA

We have had one or two arrivals of immigrants from Madeira during the
fortnight. Among the vessels from that island which have come into port has
been the Lord Seaton, which brought on the 10th, 203 people, on their way to
Trinidad under peculiar circumstances. The passengers by the vessel were
religious refugees ordered, with from three to four thousand more of their
countrymen, to quit Madeira. As many of the English papers have mentioned,
there has been a religious commotion of late in that island, in consequence of the
success with which an English physician, of the name of Dr. Kalley, belonging,
as we learn, to the sect called Plymouth Brethren, managed to convert a number
of the islanders to his own persuasion. The Roman Catholic Clergy took the
alarm, and finding no other way of stopping the progress of Dr. Kalley, they
contrived to get him, not without some risk to his life, and considerable loss to
his property, ejected from the island. The Doctor took refuge on board one of
the Royal West India Steam packets riding at the time in the bay of Funchal on
her outward route to these colonies; and is at the present moment, we are
informed, in Trinidad. After getting rid of him, the next thing to be done by the
Catholic hierarchy to restore religious unity to Madeira was to separate the
tainted from the healthy sheep; and the result has been the denouncing of near
4,000 people as Kalleyites to the authorities, for the purpose, which has been
accomplished, of having them ordered off the island. The first batch of these
exiles have found their way by the Lord Seaton, to that region of liberty, the
British West Indies. If there is any truth in what some party writers say, that we
are carrying on slavery under the name of immigration, it is astonishing that
these people did not go to Havannah, Porto Rico, or New-Orleans. What will
become of the remainder of these Kalleyites is a very interesting matter to us.
We suppose they will choose between Trinidad and this colony. After
Demerara, Trinidad might suit them better than any other spot as their future
home. But our Trinidad neighbours must excuse us, if we give the preference to
this colony, and that on this simple ground, that there is, which there is not in
Trinidad, a most extensive body of Portuguese already naturalised in this colony,
to the number of upwards 12,000 individuals, and that among these the refugees
will find themselves more at home than they could do among the miscellaneous
population – almost all Roman Catholic, by the way, – of Trinidad. On Saturday
the Roger Stewart arrived from Madeira, and yesterday the John Horrocks, but
both disappointed in obtaining immigrants.

Gazette.

***
Port of Spain Gazette, Tuesday, July 20, 1847, p. 3

ST. VINCENT

There has been considerable commotion among the planters to stop the
ruinous consequences of taking away their Portuguese laborers, they having
discovered that emmisaries (sic) have been sent from St. Kitts to entice them
away under promises of such wages as it is impossible for any planter to pay -
The people of St. Kitts in pursuing such a mode of replenishing their labour are
disgracing themselves and adopting a line of conduct that one would not expect
from them - There is now in harbour the sloop Princess Alice of Nevis owned by
a notorious fellow of the name of Braser who has nearly depopulated Nevis and
St. Kitts by the same vessel in carrying away their laborers to Trinidad; and such
is the agent assisted by a renegade Portuguese, employed to entice away the
Portuguese laborers from this island. - Our neighbours seem to have lost sight of
the heavenly admonition to “do as they would be done by.” His Excellency has
been under the necessity of issuing a proclamation to put in force the Passengers
Act so as to guard against the fatal effects which may follow the overcrowding
of these worse than slave traders, for although the Princess Alice is only 22 tons,
and consequently not allowed to carry more than 13 persons at one time, there
were, exclusive of her crew and other passengers, fifty Portuguese ready to
embark in her. We must revert again to the disgraceful conduct of the people of
St. Kitts. This Island was the first to import the Portuguese and that too at a time
when their success was problematical - For this purpose great sacrifices were
made and large sums extended (upwards of £5,000 sterling) for their
introduction, while St. Kitts, either from the want of means or energy or both,
looked on with apathy, and now meanly seeks to take advantage of the energy
and enterprise of our planters and the resources of the Island, by a clandestine
abstraction of our laborers and that too through the instrumentality of the most
unprincipled agents. We trust that Sir J. Campbell will feel it his duty to
represent this matter in its proper light to the Governor in Chief, so that His
Excellency may bring it to the notice of Earl Grey, who is decidedly the best
Secretary that ever had charge of the Colonial Office, and who is doing every
thing in his power to restore the prosperity of these colonies, and who will not
we feel very certain, permit their welfare to be sacrificed at the shrine of
cupidity.
 APPENDIX G
LETTERS IN THE PRESS USING THE PORTUGUESE LANGUAGE

Port-of-Spain Gazette, 24 November 1927

“OPUS ARTIFICEM PROBAT”

A REPLY TO MR. CHARLES REIS.

HISTORICAL INACCURACIES
REFUTED

To the Editor of the Port-of-Spain

Gazette

Sir, – Having read in the “Club Life” (a magazine published by the Portuguese
Association) an article entitled “October 5” written by Mr. Charles Reis, I ask
leave to make the following observations on some of the mis-statements he
makes as to certain persons, dates and facts concerning the history of Portugal.
I have never been possessed of the ambition of becoming a journalist,
being conscious of my want of talent, etc., yet, I venture to come forward, in
public, in defence of the good name of my country and to explain to the best
of my ability, certain paramount truths.
The article in question begins by stating that the 5th of October was
proclaimed to expel the international power of the Pope, Jews and Royalists. I
agree that it was to expel the first and third named from the Government of
the nation; but so far as history says, the Jews had no interference whatsoever
in the Government of the nation in the period mentioned above.

Referring to the reign of Do John the “Magnanimo,” he says that the

soldiers and sailors of the last crusade in the thirteenth century, were still alive
in the eighteenth century during King John’s reign, begging in the streets at
the age of 500 years. The heroic soldiers and sailors of Portugal were too
proud to beg unless on the battlefield where they begged their superior
officers to send them to the most dangerous places in order to show an
example of their bravery. I will mention the naval battle of Cape Matapa
when, due to the heroism of the Luzitanos, the fleet sent by D. John to help
the Italians against the Turks, in the attack on Corfu, Venice and other Italian
ports, decided the battle, inflicting a shameful and complete defeat on the
Turkish navy.
Referring to the Marques de Pombal he is right in his statement
regarding the reforms of the schools in Portugal which produced the great
intellectuals, among them in the first place, Antonio da Silva who was burnt
alive in 1739. In reading this statement, I was greatly astonished and
surprised. How is it possible that the poor Silva, who was also known by the
nickname of “Jew”, by reason of his Hebrew descendants, killed in 1739, was
a pupitter of fact, Pombal only ruled the country in the reign of D. Jose who
ascended the throne in 1750?
Correia Garcaô was born in 1724 and died on the 10th November,
1772, in prison where he had been put by order of Pombal since the 9th April,
1771. Looking at the date of his birth, and the one on which the Marques de
Pombal assumed power in Government, we will see that Garcao was then 26
years old, and surely, his education was completed by then; therefore he was
able and ready to enter the battle of life. It can be seen therefore, that he was
not a pupil of Pombal. In order to avoid any doubt on the matter, I reproduce
the following paragraph from his biography published in a book called
“Cancioneico” and written by one of the most considered writers in
Portuguese literature:–
“Garcao era mediocremente folgazao. Fazia dithyrambos de uma
graca tao duvidosa que parecem elegia/os. Nao ha nada mais salobro que
esses évohés dos arcades, a simularem borracheiras, que lhes sahiam genuinas
em taes composicoes. As satyras sao uns embrechados de locucoes sernas
com bafio quinhentista, horacianas na contextura, sem faúla de philosophia,
nem ironia, nem moralisacao.”
This, I think, should be more than sufficient to change the opinion of
the author of “October 5.” The reforms made by Pombal in instruction, were
mostly in regard to Science and Morality. The literature of the various
peoples is therefore divided into so many forms and styles, causing great
intellectuals as Dante, Rabelais, Cervantes, Camoes, Voltaire, Hugo, Queiraz
and many others to have their admirers and followers.
It is a fact that Manoel de Bocage and José de Macedo were masters of
immoral literature. But, in spite of that they still have their admirers of that
form of literature, whose opinion I respect as, nowadays, men have freedom
of thought and each and everyone chooses the school that better suits and
pleases him. Yet, in my country, the great wthey decide to mention their
names and works, it will be found in the following manner which I also found
in the same book, “Cancioneiro”, which I reproduce ipsis verbis. –

Bocage e os seus collegas declivaram a rampa por onde escorregaram

á voragem das inutilidades esquecidas. Os archivistas dos seus epigrammas e
sonetos martellados vao tambem desapparecendo. Nem o sentimento, nem a
linguagem, nem a historia tem nada que vér com a vertigem contrafeita, com
aquelle trovejar theatral dos farcistas do botequim das Parras. ‘ uma farragem
de pomposas bagatellas que nao formam élo na cadeia da evolucao do
espirito. José Agostinho de Macedo poreja a mesa podridao nessa rima de
vadios que desbragaram otalento a termos de nao ter bastado meio seculo para
resgatar o poeta da objeccao a que o avriteram o jantar do fidalgo, o mote da
freita e os applausos da raté.
 This shows the manner of appreciation in my country, of Poets for
whom the author of the article in question has shown great esteem and
consideration. This seems to me to be more than sufficient, to break down all
the moral value and to contradict all the mis-statements made regarding the
History of Portugal; and I say, further, that the whole of the article in question
is baseless and untrue.
In conclusion, I venture to say the University of Coimbra has produced
great intellectuals as well as many useless men, but its sister schools in the
other countries have also produced brilliant men as well as others who have
been failures. The inference and the comparison is so ridiculous that I am
forced to laughter as conclude this letter.
Your, etc.,
EDU. Sa GOMES
 Port-of-Spain Gazette, 25 November 1927

“OPUS ARTIFICEM PROBAT”

To the Editor of the Port-of-Spain

Gazette

Acabo de ler um artigo intitulado “October 5”, firmado pelo Snr. Charles
Reis, inserto num minusculo periodico mensal, que nesta ilha aparece
ultimamente, e que deveras despertou a minha curiosidade tranquila, pela
continua confusão de pessoas datas e factos, com que S.Exa se mete a
descrever a historia do meu paiz.
Nunca me passou pela merite ser jornalista, porque os meus meritos
são deveras debeis para tal; mas mesmo sem Gramatica e sem estylo, atrevo-
me a vir em publico na defeza do bom nome da minha terra, para demonstrar a
verdade no que me seja possivel, até o maximo dos meus limitados
conhecimentos.
Começa S. Exa. por dizer que o 5 de Outubro foi levado a efeito para
expulsar o poder Internacional do Pápa, os Judeus e os Realistas! Concordo
que foi feito para repelir os primeiros e os terceiros do governo da nação, mas
Judeus nunca constou que essa raça tivesse interferencia alguma com os
governos da essa epoca.
Na parte que se refere a D. João V. o Magnanimo, diz S. Exa. que os
soldados e marinheiros das ultimas cruzadas andavam a mendigar nas ruas de
Portugal! (A este respeito tenho que dizer em abono da verdade, que
infelizmente a população do meu paiz não éfadada com a mesma sorte dos
antediluvianos; nos pezarosamente frageis creaturas como a dos restantes
paizes, vamos marchando para a região do desconhecido na edade regular, e
quando aparece um caso raro de macrobio, ’ assumpto de admiração e
espanto;) Portanto vê S. Exa. que não é verosimil que os soldados e
marinheiros das ultimas cruzadas que foram no seculo 13, ainda se
conservassem com vida no seculo 18, e ainda com tanta pouca sorte a
mendigar; com essa edade fariam melhor fortuna se exhibindo ao publico,
como se fazem com os inacacos, e estou convicto que qualquer curioso
pagaria, para poder ver seres humanos de 500 annos de edade, e demais,
verdadeiras reliquias das antigas cruzadas á Terra Santa......! Os sempre
heroicos soldados e marinheiros de Portugal são altivos de mais para
esmolarem, e quando mendigam é no campo de batalha, pedindo aos
superiores que não os poupem as perigo, como para exemplo bem frizante se
deu nesse mesmo reinado na batalha naval do Cabo de Matapa em que devido
á heroicidade Lusa a esquadre enviado por D. João em auxilio dos Italianos
contra os Turcos que pretendiam atacar Corfu e Veneza e outros portos de
Italia, decidio a batalha, pondo em uma vergonhosa om verdade que esta
Estadista reformou as escolas de ensino do meu paiz, e que dessa renascença
sairam grandes mentalidades; e menciona em primeiro logar a Antonio da
Silva que foi queimado vivo em 1739! Realmente ao ler isto dev me um
ataque de gargalhada, não sei se de sarcasmo ou de compaixão pelo seu
disparate!? Como quer o distincto historiador, que o pobre Silva tambem
conhecido por Judeu em razão de sua descendencia hebraica, morto em 1730
fosse um discipulo da escola de Pombal, escola fundada pelo menos onze anos
depois da sua morte, pois que Pombal só governou o paiz no reinado de D.
José, e esta monarcha subio ao trono em 1750?
De Franciso Manoel do Nascimento que era o seu nome, sei que era
padre e que fazia verses regulares.
Vejamos agora Correia Garcão (Pedro Antonio) que nasceu em 1724 e
faleceu a 10 de Novembro de 1772 na cadeia do Limoiero onde entrou por
ordem do Marquez a 9 de Abril de 1771: Olhando para a data do seu
nascimento, e para a data em que começou a governor Pombal, vê-se que o
poeta devia ter então 26 annos de edade, edade em que um homem já tem a
sua educação completa, e portanto apto para as labutas tão acres deste mundo
de chimera: Por aqui se vê que este não foi discipulo de tal escola, mas para
sobre o assumpto não ficar duvidas vou transcrever um capitulo da sua
biografia que encontrei no “CANCIONEIRO” obra de um dos mais
considerados vernaculos das letras Lusitanas. Eil-o, “Garção era
mediocremente folgazão. Fazia dithyrambos de uma graça tão duvindosa que
parecem elegia/os. Não ha nada mais salobro que esses évohés dos arcades, a
simularem borracheiras, que lhes sahiam genuinas em taes composiçoes. As
satyras são uns embrechados de locuçoes sornas com bafio quinhentista,
horacianas na contextura, sem faída de philosophia, nem ironia, nem
moralisação.” Parece-me que isto émais que suficiente para S. Exa. mudar de
opiniâo?
Antes de passar adeante, desejo fazer compreender, que as reformas
feitas na instrução pelo Marquez de Pombal, eram ferteis em sciencia e
moralidade. Como sabe S. Exa., a literatura nos povos cultos divide-se em
tanta forma e estylo, que faz com os grandes mestres de moral e de ideias
varias, como Dante, Rabelais, Cerantes, Camões, Voltaire, Hugo, Queiroz e
tantos outros tenham os seus fervorosos admirados e discipulos.
Verdade é que tambem se diga que Manoel de Bocage e José de
Macedo como mestres da imoralidade literaria, tenham tambem os seus
crentes e adeptos, e como S. Ea. me os indica no seu artigo como saidos dessa
renascença com que tanto carinho defende, faz-me acreditar que tambem é um
dos admiradores dessa forma literaria o que respeito, porque a liberdade de
credo é hoje livre, e cada qual segue a escola que mais lhe convem a agrada:
Com tudo no meu paiz os historiadores serios não ligam importancia alguma a
escritores desta laia, (apesar de serem tambem Lusos) e se alguma vez descem
para falar dos seus nomes, e das suas obras, é da forma seguinte que encontrei
tambem no “CANCIONEIRO” a a qual transcrevo “IPSIS VERBIS,” –
Bocage e os seus collegas declivaram à rampa por onde escorregaram á
voragem das inutilidades esquecidas. Os archivistas dos seus epigrammas e
sonetos martellados vão tambem desapparecendo. Nem o sentimento, nem a
linguagem, nem a historia tem nada que vér com a vertigem contrafeira, com
aquelle tróvejar theatral dos farcistas do botequim das Parras. ’ uma farregem
de pomposas bagatellas que não formam élo na cadeia da evolução do
espirito. José Agostinho de Macedo poreja a mesa podridão nessa rima de
vadios que desbragaram o talento a termos de não ter bastado meio seculo
para resgatar o poeta da abjeccão a que o aviltaram o jantar do fidalgo, o mote
da freira e os applausos da ralé.
Eis como são apreciados no meu paiz os poetas por quem o auctor do
artigo “October 5” tem na mais alta estima e consideração; e como me parece
que isto é mais que suficiente para derrubar todo o valor moral e desmeri/n?tir
a capacidade de historiador das coisas da minha patria, termino e digo que o
restante do mesmo artigo é como a nevoa que se some a espalha, pois que é
sem fundamento, sem criterio e sem verdade.
Conclusão; a Universidade de Coimbra ou mesmo Escola como S.
Exa. lhe queria chamar, tem dado grandes talentos, como tambem
inutilidades; mas tambem das suas congeneres no extrangeiro tem saudo
talentos que refulgem nos meios da sciencia como estrelas de primeira
grandeza; como tambem tem dado outros .......... que me fazem encerrar estas
linhas a rir.

EDU. Sa GOMES

23 November, 1927

(N.B. The typographical errors herein are too numerous to point out, and the
article is reproduced as it was found in the Port-of-Spain Gazette.)
 Port-of-Spain Gazette, 25 November 1927

“MR. REIS’ RETORT”

To the Editor of the Port-of-Spain

Gazette

Dear Sir.– On October 5, 1922, I gave a lecture at the Portuguese Association

on the “Rise of Republicanism in Portugal,” which you paid me the
compliment of publishing in full (see your file for October 7, 1922). A vote
of thanks was then moved to me by Mr. M.F. Camacho, Jr., now Consul for
Portugal, than whom no man can be more patriotic. The “Guardian” also sent
a reporter to me and in due course it also published the lecture in full.
Recently I re-published it in “Club Life”, the official organ of the
Portuguese Association, and I am rather amused that Mr. Sa Gomes having
mis-read and mis-interpreted what I wrote, should blossom forth on his own
errors. I do not think it my duty to enlighten him.
My theme (which any of your readers can see for himself in your file
for October 7, 1922) reveals a virile phase of Portugal’s history and reflects
the greatest credit on the Nation. I must, therefore, leave Mr. Sa Gomes to the
anachronisms of his own creation, to the immoral poets and to his 500 year
old soldiers, which no doubt account for his concluding with laughter. May
he laugh long!
Thanking you for your space,
Yours faithfully

CHARLES REIS

Chambers,
24th November 1927
 Port-of-Spain Gazette, 25 November 1927, p.12

“MR. CAMACHO EXPLAINS”

To the Editor of the Port-of-Spain

Gazette

Dear Sir, – Kindly allow me a space in your valuable columns to explain a

certain statement of Mr. Chas. Reis in his reply to Mr. Ed. Sa Gomes.
I was very much surprised to see in his letter my name and patriotism
used as a weapon of defence for his article “October 5.” I would remind Mr.
Reis that, on the night of October 5th, 1922 he himself asked me previous to
its being delivered to move a vote of thanks to his lecture to which I acceded
as it was a customary procedure and I was anticipating an excellent lecture.
When the moment came I felt disconcerted because of its
unpleasantness; but being only among our family and friends I moved the vote
to which he alludes.
I was greatly astonished indeed to see that, five years later, in the
October issue of “Club Life,” Mr. Reis again brings out the same great subject
– unfortunately in the same unpleasant way.

Yours faithfully

M.F. Camacho, Jnr.

26th November, 1927.

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