St. Croix’s Hidden Maroon Legacy: Looking for settlements of escaped slaves

For centuries, the northwestern mountains of St. Croix have kept their secrets. Covered in dense tropical forest and carved by rugged ridges, the area was once home to a thriving community of escaped slaves who defied the plantation order and built lives in freedom. Known as Maronberg, this settlement represented one of the Caribbean’s strongest acts of resistance against colonial slavery.

The story is not widely known, in part because the Maroons deliberately hid their existence to survive. But glimpses of their world appear in scattered accounts. In 1767, Danish missionary Christian Oldendorp described how escapees had established themselves “protected by impenetrable bush and by their own wariness.” His words provide one of the rare European records of Maronberg.

At the time, the island was under Danish rule. Purchased from France in 1733, St. Croix was quickly transformed into a sugar and cotton hub by the Danish West India-Guinea Company. This economic boom came at a brutal cost: a rapid expansion of the enslaved African population. Yet control was never absolute. By the late 1700s, nearly 1,400 people—more than 10 percent of the enslaved population—had escaped captivity. Many of them vanished into the mountains.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

Maronberg was not unique in the Americas,Maroon communities appeared wherever enslaved people sought refuge. But the St. Croix settlement was remarkable for its size, longevity, and resilience. Archaeologists believe it existed from the mid-18th century until emancipation in 1848.

The Maroons fortified their sanctuary with both the natural landscape and human ingenuity. Accounts mention concealed traps, including sharpened, poisoned stakes buried along forest paths, designed to cripple any militia who tried to pursue them. These defenses, coupled with knowledge of the terrain, made the community nearly impenetrable. Despite repeated raids, the Danes were never able to defeat the Maroons.

The settlement’s exact size remains uncertain. It may have hosted hundreds of residents at its height, shifting as conditions required. Like other Maroon settlements, houses were likely semipermanent, allowing families to move quickly if threatened. What mattered most was survival, autonomy, and the ability to carve out a space of freedom amid colonial domination.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

For much of modern history, Maronberg was little more than a footnote in colonial archives. But on St. Croix itself, memory of the Maroons never disappeared. Oral traditions and community pride kept the story alive until researchers began exploring it more deeply.

One of the strongest advocates for preserving Maronberg has been Professor Olasee Davis, a respected environmentalist and historian at the University of the Virgin Islands. For decades, Davis led tours of the northwest hills, reminding locals and visitors alike of the Maroons’ defiance. His vision was not just academic; he wanted the area formally protected as both a natural reserve and a heritage site.

That dream finally became reality in August 2025, when the Virgin Islands government purchased 2,386 acres of land to establish the U.S. Virgin Islands Maroon Territorial Park. The park safeguards a vast stretch of the island’s wild northwest while also honoring the memory of the Maroons. For Davis and many Virgin Islanders, it represents a long-overdue recognition of a history that is as inspiring as it is painful.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠

One challenge remains: researchers have yet to locate the physical remains of the Maroon settlement. Finding artifacts, foundations, or other material evidence would bring new depth to the story and help tell it with greater clarity.

Locating such sites is notoriously difficult. Maroons had every reason to remain invisible; if found, they faced violence or re-enslavement. That secrecy means modern archaeologists must use creative tools to reconstruct the past.

Early efforts began in 2007, when Danish archaeologist Bo Ejstrud developed a predictive model using elevation maps and historical data. His analysis confirmed the likelihood of Maroon settlements in the northwest mountains but left a vast search area.

In 2020, archaeologist Justin Dunnavant, together with colleagues Steven Wernke of Vanderbilt University and Lauren Kohut of Winthrop University, introduced new technology into the hunt. They combined colonial-era maps with lidar—a laser mapping system capable of penetrating forest canopies to reveal the contours of the land below. These tools allowed them to model how Maroons might have moved through the landscape, seeking both water access and cover from colonial eyes.

Their findings suggest that while Maronberg may once have spanned a broad swath of territory, the area of suitable refuge shrank dramatically as plantations expanded. Between 1750 and 1799, the potential safe zones decreased by more than 90 percent. Some Maroons may have continued to resist in the hills; others likely fled by sea to Puerto Rico or Tortola.

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬

Though the precise location of Maronberg is still uncertain, its story is already reshaping how Virgin Islanders see their past. The creation of the Maroon Territorial Park is not just a conservation effort; it is an act of remembrance. It acknowledges that enslaved Africans were not passive victims but active resistors who created new forms of community under extraordinary pressure.

Future archaeological work could uncover artifacts of daily life—pottery, tools, remnants of shelters—that give a fuller picture of how the Maroons lived. Such discoveries would also provide a powerful educational tool for schools, museums, and heritage tourism, grounding history in material evidence.

For St. Croix, honoring the Maroons is about more than filling gaps in the history books. It is about reclaiming dignity, restoring silenced voices, and linking today’s struggles for justice and identity with a centuries-old fight for freedom.

𝐀 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧

The Maroons of St. Croix never intended for their sanctuary to be found. Their survival depended on secrecy. Yet in preserving their hidden world, they created a legacy that resonates across the Caribbean and the wider African diaspora.

Today, that legacy is being brought into the open—not to endanger, but to honor. As the Virgin Islands move forward with the Maroon Territorial Park, and as archaeologists continue their search, Maronberg stands as a reminder of courage, resilience, and the unyielding human desire for freedom.

In the words of one researcher, technology may finally allow us to see 300 years into the past. But more importantly, the park and the ongoing work ensure that the Maroons’ struggle is remembered well into the future.

𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦: 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.𝘤𝘰𝘮 and authored by Justin Dunnavant.