Taino

by Jose Barreiro

  “Come back,” Doña Mencia said, as we parted. “Tell us more of your stories.”

  I promised I would, though, truly, I lack the strength myself for such a trek again.

  Two hundred twenty-four. At last in our bohío.

  I have left the convent with Catalina, not toward the mountains but to the edge of the sea on the savanna, to an area apart, what Castilians now call vacant lands. We picked a place by a good stream, by a ridge she knows well, a place of fertile earth on her old people’s lands.

  Building our bohío, which we do alone, a rider came to see us, sent by Silverio. The young cacique died on September 27, nearly a week ago. Last night, when I complained to the fates about the young cacique, wracked with problems and now coughed to death, this after so many years of hard work for his people, Catalina shook her head at me. “My young husband,” she said. “Remember our old saying, ‘Expect nothing for your deeds.’“

  May 5, 1539

  Two hundred twenty-five. Final testament, 1539.

  Fearing that I may pass on without assigning these matters, I am resolved here to put down a dispensation of my wordly goods.

  I own:

  — A bohío, which I share with my wife, Doña Catalina Diaz de Colon, and this bohío, of course, belongs to her person even more than mine, as the four directions of our bohíos always belonged to the female.

  — A herd of ten horses, including five mares, two colts, two geldings, and one stallion. This herd belongs to Doña Catalina.

  — A herd of six beef cattle. This herd also belongs to Doña Catalina. Of these two herds, I want Doña Mencia’s people, on her behalf, to pick two mares and two cows for their community.

  — Several pigs, all of whom will remain to Doña Catalina.

  — All my conucos, in preparation or planted, belong to Doña Catalina.

  — My personal belongings of correspondence tools, personal tools and clothing, one machete, three good lariats, two saddles and bridles, all of that I leave with Doña Catalina.

  — Finally, these pages, which I have kept all these years, the early ones and the later ones, these items I leave to Father Remigio, of the Convent of Dominicans in the town of Santo Domingo. May he keep them for what they are, the incomplete record of my people’s affairs in the years since the coming of the Castilianss to these islands of my heart. Maybe they will last, maybe they will burn. I only know this: from the sky of our beautiful seas, the stars they will not cause to fall.

  Signed,

  Guaikán

  (Diego Colón, adopted son of the Great Admiral)

  Two hundred twenty-six. A letter from Las Casas, the New Laws.

  [Editor’s note: Lastly, Diego Colón’s papers included the following letter to Diego from Father Las Casas, some four years after his last testament. A partial reply was written by Diego on the backside of the same letter. Apparently, it was never sent.]

  May 20, 1543

  Dieguillo, old friend,

  Last night I faced the evening breeze here on the coast of Barcelona. The coast and its smells reminded me of you, and I realized I have forgiven your actions toward me on the closing days of the Enriquillo war.

  Furthermore, I want to apologize to you for my harsh words so many years ago. I have crossed the ocean time and again since then, and as they say, “Much water has passed.” I remember those first days, too, when you were the first Indian I ever saw, there at Seville, you and your parrots. And that was more than fifty years ago! Certainly, I hope you still have your health and that your marriage to Doña Catalina Diaz has gone well.

  Facing the ocean here in Barcelona, I realize also that I miss our conversations about the early days and about the Indian causes. It was precisely that breeze from the ocean, the one you always said spoke to you, that seemed to carry the memory of your face and words to me. I realize, too, how much your smile back then as a boy has stayed with me. In some hidden way, I believe the hand of God guided my eyes to that smile, which to this day represents the Taíno smile, the Taíno character to me. It was that quality in your island people that always tugged at me, eliciting finally from my heart a pledge to assist your race. This I have continued to do, since I have seen you last, and the urge is upon me to inform you about it. Again, I see the Lord’s mysterious mind at work in my actions.

  Since last I saw you I have traveled once to Panama and to Nicaragua, where I have seen the most dismal conditions endured by your mainland relatives. Thus the work on the mainland on behalf of the Indian communities is quite dramatic. I was engaged in attempting to curtail the wars of conquest on the tribes. There I did travel among the Maya Caxiqueles and Kekchies and developed a way of singing to them in order to obtain a peace without horror, without the war. This went well for a time, until certain conquistadors argued that it was not proper, as their rights of tribute and slavery they can obtain only through a war of conquest, thus peaceful conquest they considered high treason.

  (The law they don’t respect in its spirit but will twist at will, if allowed by its language and interpretation. But then, you always told me that!)

  I was run out of Nicaragua, and in Guatemala, Pedro de Alvarado conspired to have me assassinated. The wheel repeats itself, dear Diego and the abuses and cruelties suffered by your people in the islands are continuing here. I abhor it all, my Dieguillo, as I have seen again the new slave markets of Panama and Nicaragua, where your copper people are herded by the hundreds, nay, by the thousands, branded, distributed, and sold, mother torn from infant, husband from wife. Pity the mainland Indians, Dieguillo. The conquest continues.

  To Peru I tried to sail, but the winds would not carry me, though I certainly have all the needed testimony to condemn Pizarro and all his henchmen, how they have tortured and quartered those innocent towns of the mountains. To be sure, the methods of conquest used on the islands they have refined on the mainland, where everything is bigger and more abundant.

  The war of Enriquillo, dear Diego, was one great mark. I see now how it set a standard for caution, for the option other than war. Men like Fuenleal (remember him?) have continued their magistries in Mexico, Yucatán, and Guatemala—men who knew the suffering of the island Taíno—and who could see that a second generation could still rebel and dangerously assail the Spanish cause. This is of some help now, as I campaign here at the court, petitioning the sovereigns and the Holy Pontiff himself, Pope Paul III, on behalf of the Indies.

  Allow me to outline some recent changes that have me highly enthusiastic for a new chapter and many new verses with which to curtail abuses and protect the Indian.

  In 1537, after much lobbying, the pope issued his Bulla Sublimis Deus, a bull upholding the rationality of Indians. It rebukes those who argue that the Indians are “beasts of burden that talk,” by proclaiming, as we have so many times, “all the peoples of the world are men.”

  It was this bull allowed us to contain Pedro de Alvarado in Guatemala, finally. Pedro Alvarado, who was branding and selling Indians in a wide open slave trade, was opposed by Bishop Francisco Marroquin, also a protector of the Indians. We petitioned also and the oidores agreed to let me attempt a peaceful conversion for five years.

  Thus it happened, Diego. You should have been there to see it. We wrote songs of peace in the Indian languages, and our merchant friends, Indian, mestizo, and white, sang to the tribes along the rivers, telling of the One True Lord and his Gift of Redemption. Cacique after cacique came into the fold, Dieguillo, all happy to be baptized. Juan of Atitlan was first in July 1537, but by January 1538, most of the Kekchi caciquedoms were with us, what we named the Verapaces, the True Peaces.

  This is where everything went bad and the encomenderos began attacking me in earnest. This is where they declared it their right to make war on the Indians, even if the innocents had come to offer peaceful tribute! But these new conquistadors are evil men, Dieguillo, raping and killing at will, and they must be stopped before the whole continent is consumed, as were the islands, before a whole race
of people is exterminated.

  Thus now I can write that we have the New Laws, which passed by the court in 1542. The New Laws completely prohibit Indian slavery and even disallow the encomienda. This is the victory we have sought from the Crown, a sword with which to apply the final remedy, a remedy that should not drag on forever but must be followed up with vigor and be decisive!

  Thus, Dieguillo, you can see that we are finally gaining the proper resources for our campaign. It pays to persist in one’s commitments, for the justice of our One True Lord turns slowly but it turns.

  You will hear a great deal about these New Laws in years to come. They go on and on and will protect every facet of Indian existence and will be the backbone of our decisive campaign.

  I hope this letter finds you well and you will consider the importance of the work of redemption for our human condition.

  Your friend in Christ,

  Father Las Casas

  Two hundred twenty-seven. A note for Las Casas.

  [Editor’s note: What appears to be a response from Diego is found on the back of the three pages of Father Las Casas’s letter. Dated in 1546 and titled “A note for Las Casas,” it is indecipherable in parts.]

  Once again, I reread the good friar’s letter, now three years in my possession. I wish I could speak to him. I had the opportunity two years ago, when he came through, but I did not seek it. I had not the heart nor the time for a meeting. Catalina was dying then, and I had not the inclination to shift my attention from her.

  …[illegible]…, they were pelting him with stones, hating him as never before. His monks, those that did not desert him right away, could find no food in town and were jeered whenever they appeared on the streets…[illegible]…then, last year, his flounted New Laws were revocated. In Mexico and Peru, the colonists rebelled against the Crown of Spain. “Don’t take away our Indians” was one of their banners. The other one was: “Without Indians to work, the conquest means nothing.”

  Oahh, guatiao Las Casas, everything you do is good and yet does nothing! So how am I to respond?

  I have no health, I would say. Catalina is buried, I would say. Like the final grains of the ampolleta, my remaining suns are counted. Our world as we knew it is destroyed, our people are one in one hundred of what they once were. Such is what I would say.

  Of our Indian boys and girls, some farm the land, others have gone back to the bush. Three young guaxeri Catalina took in. I have taught them what I know of the tracking cure and they trail the spirit like Taíno…I am proud of those boys…[illegible]…“Each of you teach three more,” I told them.

  Two hundred twenty-eight. They will remember, my young generations.

  Fray Remigio is here. He brings me plantain, rice, and beans, and I have my yucca patch. Now I give the friar everything, all the pages to put away. It is time he took them. Now I draw this sketch, what my father taught me, the real message of our people. Someday they will remember it, my young generations, someday in dreams its meaning will return to them…[illegible]…that way, because in the black of our eyes we were good…it does not die…

  Postcript

  The treaty with Enriquillo resulted in the settlement of the Indian community at Boyá, in south central Hispaniola. About four thousand Indian people settled at the free Indian community, where Enriquillo officiated until his death, a year later. The Boyá community persisted, and although intermarriage and migration eroded the Indian jurisdiction, factors of Indian ancestry remain in the families of the region today. Around the time of the settlement with Enriquillo, other Taíno groups in Cuba, Santo Domingo and Puerto Rico sought refuge in the mountains of their respective islands, and thus small enclaves of Taíno ancestors survived, some into the twenty-first century. Of course, the Taíno people, in intermarriage with Iberians and Africans, are a major genetic and cultural root of the contemporary Greater Antillean population. The greater Caribbean islands were under Spanish domination until the end of the nineteenth century. About Diego Colón nothing more is known.

  Glossary

  adelantado. Spanish military title of forward commander

  alguacil. Marshal or policeman

  ampolleta. Hourglass filled with sand, turned over every half hour to keep time on long voyages

  Anacaona. Taíno cacica of the Xaraguá region, sister of Bohechío and wife of Caonabó

  areito. (Taíno) Traditional dances and recitations among the Taíno caciques and behikes

  ascendado. The owner of a hacienda, large ranch, or farm

  Asturias. Region of Spain

  axí(es). (Taíno) Pepper (Capsicum spp.)

  axiaco. Taíno-derived word, still in use, for a Caribbean pepper- and corn-based soup always mixed in with yucca, ñame, and other island root crops

  Bahuruku. Mountain range in the southwest peninsula of Española, 150 km of coast and 100 km into land. According to Las Casas, it contained a mountain made of salt. It also contains present-day Lake Enriquillo.

  Baibrama. Taíno ceremonial cemi and spiritual entity associated with fertility of crops, particularly manioc

  Baigua. (Taíno) A plant used by fishermen to drug fish in the water

  Baiguanex. Medicine man, or behike, of Enriquillo

  Baracoa. Taíno word meaning, “existence by the sea,” describes a town in the northeast coast of Cuba

  barbacoa (barbecue). (Taíno) A method of cooking and drying foods by stacking the raw foods in grates and adding tomatoes, peppers, and other condiments

  batéy. (Taíno) A plaza or ceremonial field where areitos and ball games were celebrated

  Bayamanacoel. Taíno ancestral character who assisted in the creation of the islands by spitting a guanguayo on Deminán

  Bayamo. A large town in eastern Cuba named for its old cacique’s name

  behike. (Taíno) Medicine man or healer

  bejuco. (Taíno) Various types of vines used as medicinal purgatives and as cord rope for tying and construction

  Bohekio. Cacique of the Xaraguá region of Española

  bohío. (Taíno) Home or house; also the island of Española

  Boricua. Person or object of Puerto Rican origin

  Borikén. (Taíno) “Land of the valiant cacique”; Puerto Rico

  brujo. (Castilian) Male witch

  cacicasgo. Hispanicized Taíno word for the territory or court of a cacique

  cacique. (Taíno) A regional chief

  cagüayo (a). (Taíno) A longish tree reptile; word still in use in Cuba and Puerto Rico

  Caiçiju. Taíno grandfather of Guarionex, noted for his prophesy of the coming of the Spanish

  caimán. (Taíno) A swamp crocodile endemic to Cuba

  cajaya. (Taíno) Shark

  Camagüey. (Taíno) Sun-drenched savanna; region, province, and city in central eastern Cuba

  caona. (Taíno) Gold

  Caonabó. Taíno or Ciguayo chief of the region of Maguana, in Española

  caracol. (Taíno) Spiraled seashell

  Caréy. (Taíno) Large sea turtle (Chelonia imbricata); used here as a personal name

  Carib. Caribbean Indian people from the Lesser Antilles, a term chosen by the Spanish for people reputedly cannibalistic

  cassabe. (Taíno) Tort made from yucca or manioc root; word still in use

  Castilian. The language or a subject of Castile, a kingdom (now region) of Spain

  ceiba. (Taíno) Silk cottonwood, a sacred tree; name of Diego’s first wife

  cemi. (Taíno) Wooden and stone statuettes representing various spiritual entities

  Cibanakán. (Taíno) A center stone

  Çiboney. (Indo-Antillean) A people in central and western Cuba and in the southern Cuban cays

  çibucán. (Taíno) Net sack used to squeeze juice from the scraped yucca

  Ciguayo. A tribe of Indians from north and eastern Española; a captain under Enriquillo

  cimarrón. An African escaping slavery who joined the Taíno mountain camps, or palenques

  Coaybay. Taíno place of t
he dead

  Coatrisquie. (Taíno) A female spiritual leader of rainy winds at sea

  cohoba. The ground up dust, or snuff, used by the cacique, behike, and ni-Taíno to enhance their visions and to communicate with the ancestors and other spirits (Piptadenia peregrina); the ceremony of cohoba

  Cohobanax. Fictional name with the word cohoba as root and nax added to describe an elder in that ceremony

  conuco. (Taíno) A planted field of yucca and other crops; an Indian homestead

  converso. (Castilian) A converted Jew

  copei (copai). A tree on whose broad leaves a message could be written

  coxibá. (Taíno) Tobacco plant

  Cubanakán. (Taíno) “Center of the island” (of Cuba)

  cucuyo (cocuyo). From the Taíno word for the Antillean lightning bug. Oviedo notes the cucuyo was used for nighttime travel. A hunter of mosquitoes, the cucuyo was also introduced under netting and in bohíos at night as a form of pest control.

  Deminán. Taíno ancestral character, one of the four directions and four winds, an adventuresome creator of much of the Taíno cosmological world

  digo. (Taíno) A plant whose root and leaf produces a cleansing lather used by the Taíno to bathe

  dragas. “Little people”; word used by Iberian (Gallego) peasantry

  duho. (Taíno) Ceremonial seat or stool low to the ground and fashioned from wood or stone

  encierro. The gathering of the bulls prior to a bull run

  encomienda. Spanish system of giving Indian villages to specific Spanish conquistadors or grandees to whom the Indian community was encomended to be Christianized in return for their land and their free labor

  Enriquillo. Taíno cacique (d. 1535) whose thirteen-year war is described by Diego in the present journal

  escarmiento. (Spanish) A serious warning or lesson

  Española. Present-day Haiti/Santo Domingo, variously known as Bohío and Quisqueya and renamed Isla Española by Columbus. The word is also anglicized to Hispaniola.