Encounters Unforeseen- 1492 Retold

by Andrew Rowen

  There was silence. Guacanagarí understood all disapproved of his decision to allow the fort to be built. While he concealed emotion, he swelled with humiliation and bitterness at the lifelong disrespect he felt from these colleagues.

  Caonabó felt it unproductive to criticize further. “What happened to the body and spirit of the man murdered? My informants say the body of their Christ spirit supposedly returned to life after his death.”

  Guacanagarí perceived the ultimate focus of Caonabó’s inquiry. “They buried the murder victim in the ground, using a different procedure than we use, and I have not seen the victim’s body return to life.”

  “So they can be killed and do not return?”

  “It appears so.”

  Guarionex interrupted. “Caonabó, I don’t want to hear a recommendation that we simply kill all of them now—if that’s where you’re going.”

  “I’ve traded with them. I didn’t see would-be conquerors in my own brief encounter.” Caonabó paused to receive the others’ full attention. “But Guacanagarí now has months of contact with them. Based on Guacanagarí’s and Mayobanex’s observations today, and my own more limited contact, it seems to me these men are of a brutish and incredibly powerful tribe, where force prevails over conscience.”

  Caonabó turned his gaze to make eye contact with each of his colleagues. “We don’t always agree or enjoy each other, and we do have disputes. But our people have enjoyed a general peace for generations. What I fear is these people’s weapons and their unknown spirits, particularly their gruesome Christ spirit. There are few of them now, and we can easily destroy them. But if more of them arrive, with more fearsome weapons, it could be difficult to expel them. I’m content, and have been content, to trade with them. But we can’t permit them to remain on Haiti. If we do, the misery they’ve brought to a few in Guarico could become the misery of us all.”

  “Caonabó, we don’t yet know the capability of these people to behave as a good people,” Guacanagarí responded. “The men their leader left are commoners, not a nitaíno or cacique among them. The weapons you fear—and rightly fear—are stored in their structure. I could have that overrun and the weapons thrown into the sea at a moment’s notice.”

  “You’re too forgiving, Guacanagarí. Their inappropriate conduct has persisted for months and deteriorates. It’s very possible their leader will never return.” Caonabó shrugged his shoulders and gazed at the sky. “For a moment, hear my thoughts. Assume the leader never returns. These men’s conduct will never improve, correct?”

  “I can’t disagree with that.”

  “Then you should kill them all right now.” Caonabó studied his colleagues’ faces. Anacaona looked to the ground, discomforted by her husband’s advice but indisposed to disagree publicly with it. “Assume, on the other hand, that their leader does return. It’s also better to kill them all now. You will explain to him the truth—that his men’s conduct was entirely unacceptable and they had to be severely punished. If he understands and accepts that, and if he still wishes to trade, we can then trade with him. But he can’t have a settlement on Haiti, no matter how small.”

  “I can’t and will not slaughter them indiscriminately. I gave this leader my promise, and, even if I hadn’t, this isn’t a war.”

  Behecchio grimaced scornfully. “Caonabó, if you kill them all now, their leader will never understand and will never trade with us again. That’s ridiculous.”

  “Guacanagarí is right,” Guarionex interrupted. “Taínos do not slaughter, and this isn’t a war like we have with the Caribes.” Guarionex sternly glared at Caonabó, and there was more silence. Guarionex turned to Guacanagarí. “But it’s your cacicazgo, and your responsibility is to see justice is done. Those pale men guilty of transgressions must be punished, just as you would punish your own subjects. Surely, their leader would understand this.”

  Mayobanex spoke again, slowly to accommodate precise translation. “If their leader returns, which I doubt, in my view you should indicate you have no interest in trading with him and that he must take his men away. It was easy for me to get rid of him. I just indicated Guanín and Matininó and his ‘Gran Khan’ were to the east, as were heaps of gold, and he departed like a shark smelling blood.”

  “My friends, my fear is that gold is not his only objective.” Caonabó courteously smiled at Mayobanex. “There was no need for him to build his structure merely to trade for gold. As far as I’ve heard, the gold they collect isn’t even held within the structure. Behecchio and I traded gold with them without their having any structure or permanent settlement. My fear is that these men intend to invade Haiti, or at least that’s what we as our people’s rulers must assume. Their conduct requires that we assume they are an enemy who has established a foothold from which they might launch an attack. Given their weapons, we can’t permit this. They must all be killed now.”

  Guarionex shook his head in disagreement. “No. Absolutely not. We must seek and fashion a more delicate and harmonious resolution worthy of our spirits.”

  “For myself and Maguana, I should be clear,” Caonabó responded. “If any pale man enters Maguana, I will kill him in Maguana. I will kill all pale men who enter Maguana.”

  “We don’t have a crisis that compels that result,” Behecchio interjected. “I take Guarionex’s point that miscreants should be punished, severely if necessary. And I take Guacanagarí’s point that these men may improve if their leader returns and disciplines them. The goods they have and their know-how is impressive, and trade with them could benefit us if they are content to trade without a settlement. I think we should leave for later a decision to kill them all.”

  Caonabó turned to Guacanagarí. “Do you have the resolve to punish them individually?”

  All waited for Guacanagarí’s answer, but there was none.

  Anacaona broke the silence to address a separate concern. “Let’s remember that there may be women bearing children of the pale men. These women and children will need to be cared for and, as I understand, the pale men haven’t entered into a single marriage. If we kill these babies’ fathers, we must care for the babies and their mothers nevertheless. We can’t let any confusion arise among our subjects otherwise. We are Taíno, not Caribes.”

  There was silence. Guarionex turned to Guacanagarí. “You’ve heard us all, and Behecchio is correct. We should’ve had this conversation before you assisted them in building their structure. But, for the moment, there is no crisis, and this is for you to resolve in Marien, subject to one condition to which I think we all agree. If their leader returns to rescue them, we must then have another conversation about whether the settlement remains.”

  “I’ve heard all your views, which I respect, although I don’t agree with many of them.”

  Guarionex gazed up at his ceremonial bohío and was relieved that Father Cacibaquel’s cohaba revelation had not been discussed. He wondered whether the other caciques remembered it. He ended the meeting and invited his visitors to watch games of batey.

  Haiti’s peoples were then well fed and at peace, free from want and blessed with time for leisure and to enjoy friendship. Guarionex recognized that the pale men’s presence chilled the harmony and unity of his colleagues. As they watched the games, neither Caonabó nor Behecchio conversed with Guacanagarí.

  IN THE PRESENCE OF CHRIST’S MOTHER,

  Guadalupe, June 1493

  In early June, Isabel and Fernando bade Cristóbal depart for Seville to hasten the preparation and departure of his second voyage. They dispatched more senior envoys to King João to discuss the territorial dispute, and João acquiesced in delaying the departure of his own expedition. But the sovereigns had no intention of agreeing a resolution before their colony was established and Colón reported better geographic information locating the discoveries. Their envoys dithered and bumbled to delay. The sovereigns retained Colón’s journal and directed scribes to copy it secretly, hiding its existence from João’s spies and envoys, an
d implored Cristóbal to prepare the chart of the voyage he had promised.

  Before Cristóbal’s departure, Prince Juan decided to adopt Abasu for the royal household, to be honored as the son of a prominent gentleman. Abasu was distraught and pleaded that Xamabo intercede. Xamabo refused and explained the adoption was an honor and that Abasu couldn’t refuse it without insulting the pale men, which would reflect poorly on Guacanagarí. Abasu wept into the night that he would never see his family again, and Bakako lay beside him to offer consolation, understanding how he felt.

  Cristóbal and his entourage rode overland to Seville on a difficult route through the mountainous territory of Extremadura, passing through Guadalupe so he could fulfill the first vow of the Niña’s crew. Sailing would have been far quicker and easier to meet the urgency of the second voyage, but none doubted the rightness or imperative of satisfying the vow and honoring the Virgin for saving the ship and crew.

  Villagers crowded to see the Admiral and his five naked, painted Indians, and word spread through Extremadura’s penniless, rustic hamlets that better opportunities might exist in newly discovered lands. In Trujillo, a young bastard swineherd, Francisco Pizarro (b. ca. 1471–1476), marveled at the fortune that might be achieved. In Jerez de los Caballeros, a minor nobleman’s third son, Vasco Núñez de Balboa (b. ca. 1475), wondered whether he could possibly fare worse in the Indies than at home. In Medellín, seven-year-old Hernán Cortés (b. 1485) dreamed of growing up to be as the Admiral.

  The friars of the Monastery of Santa María de Guadalupe received the Admiral and his Indians warmly with food and water, and Cristóbal paid for the five-pound candle to be molded. It was ready past midnight, and Cristóbal invited Juan Niño and the Indians to join him by torchlight in the pilgrimage vowed.

  As they entered the church, Bakako recalled his dread as enormous waves engulfed the Niña and that—at the precipice of death—he had honored Yúcahu and Guabancex more fervently than Admiral’s spirits. He anguished whether this recourse to Yúcahu and Guabancex had saved the Niña, rather than Admiral’s prayers to the Christ spirit’s mother. He had now taken his first communion and trembled to not honor Virgin. But he feared forsaking the spirits whom he well knew.

  Friars led them to the Virgin’s chapel and revealed her and they knelt before her. Admiral lit the candle and led a prayer.

  Bakako labored to honor Virgin with his fullest devotion and fought to repress unfaithful thoughts that surged uncontrollably within him. He rid Yúcahu and Guabancex from his consciousness. He banished his disrespect of the pale men’s assertion that their spirits were the only spirits. He repressed his contempt for the notion that his soul’s eternal life was attainable only through belief in the Christ spirit.

  But memories of the slave markets in Lisbon and Seville, the behiques who came aboard Niña in Palos, and the burning field in Seville overpowered him, and Bakako could not dispatch from the forefront of his consciousness a single, scorching question. If his peoples and Admiral’s peoples came to blows, whom would the Christ spirit and Virgin protect?

  CHAOS IN GUARICO

  Guacanagarí departed with his nitaínos from Guaricano west into the farmlands along the rivers Camú and Yaque. He was moved by the fertility of the great valley, the splendor of the mountains rising north and south, and the enduring labor of farmers tending their fields in the hot sun, as their ancestors had for generations. When the Yaque permitted, his party boarded small canoes and sped downstream to rendezvous within a day with an enormous canoe waiting at the ocean, and he asked to be taken to the great cliffs close by (Cabo del Morro)—where he had camped tracking Caribes years before—so he might consult Yúcahu.

  The view from atop the cliffs also touched him, perhaps as never before. His cacicazgo stretched west and south beyond the horizons, and, other than at Guarico, its people were content with their circumstances and the spirits they revered. Through the haze, he identified the approximate location of Guarico, and a rage momentarily flared through him. He turned to scan the ocean east to find vessels bearing Admiral in return, and frustration compounded the rage. He implored Yúcahu to reveal how the soured relationship with Admiral’s men might be resolved. He realized that Yúcahu was testing his patience to trust that goodness—rather than evil—could prevail over evil.

  When he returned to Guarico, his brother reported that a tremendous altercation had occurred among the pale men the day before, with many fighting and injured, and one of the injured had died that morning. Guacanagarí’s subjects had not been involved. The pale men apparently had argued among themselves whether they should leave Guarico to find more gold in the Cibao in Caonabó’s cacicazgo. Many of them had disparaged Guacanagarí and the gold he brought.

  Guacanagarí grimaced contemptuously. “Have their leaders punished those who fought and the murderers?”

  “No. Their leaders participated in the fight themselves. No one has been punished.”

  “Is there calm now? Has the body been buried?”

  “The body still lies in the plaza. The man was wounded and left to die and expired during the night. His agony and screams petrified those living nearby.” Brother paused. “No one has dared to touch or even approach it for fear of evil spirits. Women and children have been wailing in horror of it.”

  Guacanagarí was mortified his rule had allowed this to transpire, and Brother held his hands and spoke gravely. “Some of our subordinate caciques are now critical that you haven’t punished these people as you would our own subjects.”

  “I understand. That’s Guarionex’s and Behecchio’s view, as well. Which of our caciques are the most dissatisfied?”

  “Mayreni, and others. Mayreni is the most outspoken.”

  Guacanagarí pondered what to do and momentarily reconsidered Guarionex’s advice. But he buried his fury yet again and reluctantly chose—one last time—to reprimand the pale men with a threat that would alter their conduct.

  “Fill some baskets with food, and let each of their separate bands know that I will deliver it to the fort this afternoon. Take a few naborias to throw the body into the sea. Tell them I assure the spirits will favor them for doing this. Gather hundreds of warriors to hide undetected in the forest south of the fort, with spears and macanas. I will go to the fort, and after I give the signal, the warriors should charge from the forest, secure the small bohío, and surround the pale men outside the fort. There should be a demonstration of overwhelming force.”

  Brother and nitaínos were shocked but pleased. Brother asked, “Are we going to fight?”

  “No. Not unless I order it. The soldiers should understand that clearly.”

  As midday approached, the crew gradually gathered outside the fort to await Guacanagarí’s food delivery, their knives and swords guardedly sheathed lest another altercation occur. Some grimly pondered the two shipmates lost, musing that the Indians posed less danger than themselves. Pedro and Rodrigo spoke to Diego at a distance, promising to control their loyalists. Chachu and his band arrived last, and, while he displayed neither guilt nor remorse, he indicated he had no intent to resume the previous altercation. There was no further communication, and the men sullenly waited for the food to arrive.

  Soon, Guacanagarí entered the clearing before the fort, accompanied by his brother, nitaínos, and naborias bearing the food baskets. He asked the naborias to halt some distance from the fort, and stepped forward with his youthful interpreter to greet the three lieutenants. “I bring food.”

  Guacanagarí studied the pale men, slowly turned his gaze to make eye contact with many of them, and then pointed to the ground. “This is Guarico, in my cacicazgo Marien. There shall be no fighting, no stealing of food or gold or anything else, and no abuse of women.” The interpreter explained by gesture.

  Pedro responded. “We understand. We will do better.”

  Guacanagarí shook his head in displeasure and then spoke in broken Castilian. “Guarico peace. No peace, no gold.” He studied the lieutenants’ exp
ressions, as well as Chachu’s. “No peace, no gold.”

  Chachu rose and slowly stepped forward, spreading his arms to indicate he would speak for some moments.

  “Guacanagarí, or Lord Guacanagarí, if that suits you, you don’t have any gold to trade but motley jewelry. I don’t care if you don’t want to trade gold, because you don’t have enough for me and my men in the first place.”

  Guacanagarí understood the scorn but not the words, and he raised his hand to ask Chachu to stop.

  Pedro commanded Chachu to stop, as well, and turned to Guacanagarí. “Ignore him, my lord—he is not of us. We will maintain peace.”

  Chachu did not stop and raised his voice. “Listen, all of you, it’s time I spoke as the only person here capable of leading us.” He faced Guacanagarí directly. “You’re nothing but a naked buffoon. Kings wear pants, not nose rings. You’ve been lying to us from the beginning. There’re no gold mines here. And if there were, your naked vassals would be too lazy to dig them.”

  Guacanagarí lowered his hand and flicked his wrist once. He let the savage continue as his troops prepared to rush.

  Chachu enjoyed the attention and did continue, facing Diego, Pedro, and Rodrigo. “You’re equally as stupid. There’s no gold here, at least not enough for me to tolerate this garbage they call food. My men and I are leaving to find it. We’ve been told by some Indians that Martín Pinzón found it to the southeast.”

  “The Admiral ordered that we leave this place only in the company of Guacanagarí,” Diego retorted.

  “I’ve heard enough of the Genoese and his orders. For the amount of gold we’ve obtained, each and every one of us would’ve been better off if we had never met him. He’s left and has no say here anymore.”

  Rodrigo responded. “The Admiral’s orders are on behalf of the king and queen, and you will answer to their justice for your disobedience. We must conduct ourselves peacefully so these people can be subjugated peacefully.”