Encounters Unforeseen- 1492 Retold

by Andrew Rowen

  “No. Not I.” Pedro shook his head with disgust. “I and other Christians pay too much gold to the church already. We purchase absolution of our sins. We purchase salvation. My king purchases bishoprics for his bastard sons. The church burns heretics to seize their gold. I know—my king has that under his thumb.”

  Guacanagarí’s assistant translated some, and Guacanagarí was startled. He had anticipated the pale men’s lust for gold lacked spirituality, but not a contempt for worship of the Christ spirit itself. He mused on it and grew fearful that, at heart, at least some pale men were spiritless.

  OUTFITTING THE SECOND VOYAGE,

  Seville, July and August 1493

  When he entered Seville, Cristóbal was handed a letter from the sovereigns entreating that his fleet depart promptly—the king and queen weren’t interested in waiting resolution of the negotiations with King João. Cristóbal was gratified by the sovereigns’ urgency but recognized more nuanced considerations. He shared the sovereigns’ concern to depart before winter’s harsh weather, but his precise objective was to achieve the same winds and weather experienced west of Gomera in September on the first voyage. He anxiously worried that his prompt return was necessary to prevent mistrust and hostility arising among the peoples to be subjugated. He also knew, as well as anyone alive, that the Ocean Sea was sovereign to the ships upon it. He could not and would not sail until each ship was ready, regardless of what the king, queen, or any administrator desired, in spite of his fears for the conduct of the crewmen at the garrison.

  As Admiral reviewed the sovereigns’ letter, Bakako learned to his horror that two of the four Taínos left in Seville had died and that the other two barely clung to life and were languishing in a field near the monastery where Admiral lodged.1 Admiral’s page Pedro escorted Bakako there, and they anxiously spied from a distance that Yutowa and another Taíno lay prostrate on cots in the shade of a tree. Their bodies were laced with pocks and emaciated, and Pedro warned they could approach no closer. Bakako called to Yutowa. He heard, sat up slowly, smiled wanly, and faintly replied he was recovering and that the friars left him and their companion food and water generously.

  A friar heard Bakako’s call and emerged from the monastery to recount that the four Indians had succumbed to the plague and been removed from the city to this site, where two had died so far. Yutowa and the other appeared to be recovering. Bakako asked if he could sit with Yutowa and the friar forbade it, indicating that would be death. The friar invited Bakako to stay, together with the other Indians, in the grounds of the monastery itself, and allowed that Bakako could bring Yutowa and his companion food and water by laying it on the ground at a safe distance from them.

  Diego and little Fernando were escorted to Aunt Violante’s new home and were astonished by its elegance and furnishings. Violante had not met Fernando previously and explained to him that she knew his mother lived in Córdoba and that he could see her when he wished. She told him that she and Diego’s mother, her sister, had grown up together in Portugal—where the Perestrelo family was nobility— and that his father and she now wanted him and Diego to grow up together just like that, as they were brothers.

  Cristóbal soon met with the Archdeacon Juan Rodríguez de Fonseca to establish a working relationship and begin commissioning ships and recruiting crews. The two men were the same age but didn’t warm naturally. Cristóbal disdained that a Castilian noblemen versed in diplomacy who had never held responsibility for organizing maritime ventures or visited outposts like those at Scio, Thule, Guinea, or the Canary Islands—no less Española—would understand what had to be done. Juan disdained that an uneducated sea captain had the ability to marshal a fleet with over a dozen ships and a crew of over a thousand who would serve not only as crew but then as the settlers to create a permanent colony with its own governing, administrative, commercial, military, and religious functions. But the sovereigns held each with esteem and made each understand cooperation was expected.

  The sovereigns dispatched instructions to Francesco Pinelo, now the expedition’s paymaster, for financing the voyage. The Duke of Medina Sidonia provided a loan for a portion of the voyage’s cost, and Francesco pledged as collateral jewels and other property confiscated from Jews expelled from the realm and conversos convicted by the Holy Office. Funds were borrowed from the Crown-controlled militia. Cristóbal’s friend, the slave trader Juanoto Berardi who had financed Cristóbal’s contribution to the first voyage, commissioned a cargo ship for transporting building materials.

  In Rome, Pope Alexander VI issued a bull2 recognizing that King Fernando and Queen Isabel were inflamed with devotion to spread the faith to the lands newly discovered and bestowing Fray Buil with authority to do so, including with associates chosen by himself or the sovereigns. Buil was authorized to build churches and monasteries and, so that Christians would be induced to settle, provide confessors to absolve crimes and sins of each man and woman who traveled there with the sovereigns’ permission. Fernando relished that he and Isabel would control the church in the new lands more tightly than they did the bishops of the Canary Islands.

  King João had been enraged by Alexander’s longitudinal division of the Ocean Sea. He dispatched more senior diplomats to Fernando and Isabel in Barcelona to express he found Alexander’s pronouncements unacceptable and warn that he would dispatch a fleet westward if Colón’s voyage were not suspended. João surmised antipodal lands would be discovered in the southern oceans off Guinea and that the pope’s longitudinal division wrongly deprived Portugal of those. The sovereigns promptly dispatched separate instructions to Colón and Fonseca to hasten the fleet’s departure. They instructed their papal emissaries to seek yet an additional bull clarifying Castile’s right to discoveries in the Indies themselves. They ordered a fleet of warships assembled to protect Colón’s ships from Portuguese attack.

  Cristóbal’s ships and crews began to assemble in Cádiz, the western-most Castilian port large enough to berth them all. Cristóbal selected a nao as his flagship and renamed it the Santa María.

  There were far more applicants to sail on the voyage than needed, most drawn by the siren call of gold. Cristóbal and Juan Fonseca arranged for nearly a thousand to be enlisted to serve as sailors, farmers, laborers, gold diggers, and, if necessary, soldiers, all for fixed salaries. Artisans were enlisted as necessary to service the ships and build the settlement. There were more than two hundred unpaid volunteers, nobility or gentlemen who sought fame and fortune. They included the late Rodrigo Ponce de León’s cousin Juan, Diego Velázquez de Cuéllar, and a converso, Pedro de Las Casas.3

  Regardless of King Fernando and Queen Isabel’s inflammation, there were few volunteers among the clergy, perhaps because of the dangers or hardships involved, an absence of enthusiasm for doing the work of conversion, or scant recruiting effort on behalf of the sovereigns and Fray Buil. Perhaps a dozen clergy enlisted. Fernando had convalesced for a brief period at a secluded monastery in the hills north of Barcelona4 and held some affection for one of its younger Hieronymite monks, a Catalan Ramón Pané, who was among those chosen.

  Most crewmen brought their weapons so they could serve as soldiers. There was a corps of professional foot soldiers commanded by one Francisco de Penalosa, Pedro de Las Casas’ brother and a servant to the queen, and the contingent of twenty mounted knights. The soldiers were equipped with chest-armor, crossbow, musket, and a few dogs, as well as the vessels’ cannon.

  Yutowa and the other sick Taíno did recover. As August waned, Cristóbal rode with his two sons and seven remaining Indians to Cádiz. He began to inspect the ships, men, and provisions intended to establish the first colony under his governorship, in which he would financially participate and by which, as the Lord’s chosen servant, he would fulfill his unique destiny to carry Christianity across the Ocean Sea.

  INTO MAGUANA

  (Late Summer 1493)

  Pedro, Rodrigo, and their nine sailors crouched in the streambed to which Guacanagarí had
led them and scooped and sifted its gravel and mud by hand. They quickly found grains of gold and, within a day, one of them found a gold nugget the size of a peppercorn, whereupon they exulted that all would be rich. But a week passed before a sailor unearthed another gold peppercorn. Worse, they found that crouching and scooping was exhausting and dirty work, and that flies and mosquitoes swarmed over them when the breeze was slight or died. They bid Guacanagarí provide naborias to do the work and dictated their women do it as well, including those heavy with child. This alleviated the Castilians’ discomfort but didn’t accelerate the yield.

  Soon, Pedro advised Guacanagarí they were disappointed with the stream selected and sought a richer one. Guacanagarí deplored the grand expectations of the pale men and their lack of patience and replied that other streams held the same amount of gold. Pedro curtly retorted that his band would depart to find a richer stream with or without Guacanagarí.

  The next day, Guacanagarí thanked the local cacique for his hospitality. Neither Pedro nor Rodrigo did, resentful that the gold achieved had not met expectations. Guacanagarí led the lieutenants and their party east to a larger stream that coursed astride a small village of farmers. He greeted the local cacique and arranged bohíos, food, and naborias to dig the stream. The cacique kindly offered daughters for the lieutenants, but Guacanagarí advised the gesture would be relished but neither appreciated nor reciprocated and not to make it.

  This second stream yielded gold, but, within a week, Pedro and Rodrigo realized it held no more than the first. Discontentment grew. One evening, the two lieutenants confronted Guacanagarí and his nitaínos at dinner in the village plaza.

  “The gold is lacking,” Pedro asserted.

  “The homage involves strain and patience, which the spirits acknowledge,” Guacanagarí responded through his youth and with gestures. His displeasure grew. “Admiral’s original plan was that my people dig and bring the gold to you in your ‘Navidad.’ You should reconsider that plan. My men can continue to dig here, and transport the gold to you.” Guacanagarí abandoned tact, whatever his youth translated. “It’s my men who are doing the digging now, anyway. Your men merely watch and burden the local people.”

  Pedro and Rodrigo scowled, angry that Guacanagarí failed to offer a solution that yielded more gold.

  “Admiral instructed that you accompany us to find Haiti’s gold,” Escobedo retorted. “Many of your people say the gold mines are in Caonabó’s territory. Take us to Caonabó.”

  “No. I’ve already told you. I won’t take you to Caonabó. He will kill you.”

  “We understand Caonabó has already traded gold with our people,” Rodrigo responded. “He didn’t kill them.” Rodrigo stared directly into Guacanagarí’s eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you say Caonabó will kill us?”

  “Don’t lie to us,” Pedro uttered, rasping his throat. “We’ll find the gold mines, with or without you.”

  “Caonabó will kill you. I know because he told me so.” Guacanagarí watched the second thought translated by gestures and, when understood, jar the two pale men. “I, Guacanagarí, am cacique of Marien. Caonabó is cacique of Maguana. We talk. We have both watched you from the first days you came to Haiti.”

  “When did Caonabó tell you this?” Pedro challenged.

  “We spoke over the summer. Haiti’s paramount caciques speak occasionally.”

  There was silence. Pedro addressed Rodrigo. “A total lie. He’s been lying from the beginning. Caonabó has the gold, and there’s no point in trading with this liar.”

  Rodrigo grimaced, counseled Pedro to be silent, and turned to Guacanagarí. “Your people say Caonabó has already traded with our people. We’ve brought him a gift of a basin, much as those you have been given. Admiral can be a friend to both Guacanagarí and Caonabó.” Rodrigo smiled to indicate continued friendship. “Admiral wished that you accompany us, and that is what we wish.” Rodrigo pointed to all three of them and gestured that together they would journey to Caonabó.

  “Caonabó will kill you, whether you give him the basin or not. I will not take you.”

  “Then we will go without you. We ask that you provide us your soldiers as guides and for protection.”

  “Neither I nor my soldiers will accompany you.”

  Pedro scorned his host. “Guacanagarí is afraid Caonabó will harm Guacanagarí.”

  “Caonabó will not harm me.” Guacanagarí laughed, reciprocating the scorn. “We are Haitian caciques. But he will kill you.”

  Pedro laughed spitefully in return. “You’re afraid to enter Caonabó’s lands because he will harm you.”

  There was silence, and Guacanagarí chose to suffer insults no longer and cease further efforts with these lieutenants. He stared at Pedro and responded calmly, unconcerned whether the lieutenants understood or not.

  “I could take you to Maguana, but I will not. Caonabó would not harm me because of your people and their conduct. That’s ridiculous. After months of living among my subjects, you’ve learned nothing of us. Your people’s arrogance and brutishness is appalling.” Turning to Rodrigo, Guacanagarí ended the conversation. “As a Haitian cacique, I will respect Caonabó’s wish that your people not enter his cacicazgo. If you enter Maguana, I will advise him that you did so of your own accord, against my wishes and warning, and without my or my subjects’ participation.”

  Guacanagarí and his nitaínos departed for their bohío, leaving Pedro and Rodrigo to decide whether to depart for Caonabó alone. Pedro shook his head in disbelief. “He’s jealous and lying. Caonabó will receive us with open arms and be as eager to create a trading relationship as Guacanagarí. The basin will please him, and we may as well promise that he will receive the favors of the king and queen.”

  “We have few weapons to defend ourselves if Caonabó is hostile.”

  “That’s Arana’s fault, and he must die for that.”

  Rodrigo nodded agreement.

  “But we don’t need more weapons,” Pedro argued. “These people are cowards. The Genoese was correct that the garrison could subdue the entire island.” Rodrigo appeared unconvinced, and Pedro continued. “We’re not making our fortunes at Navidad or here. We haven’t suffered these hardships to return home only a bit richer. Never departing Spain would have been better than shrinking from going forward now.”

  The next morning, Pedro and Rodrigo advised Guacanagarí they would depart south into Maguana. Guacanagarí replied he was sorry and disheartened and that they could return to Guarico whenever they wished—if they survived.

  Parting was not as simple as the three men contemplated. The pale men’s concubines were distraught, shocked that they would leave Marien without their cacique Guacanagarí and fearful of what Caonabó might do to the pale men and themselves if they entered Maguana. Many of the women, particularly those pregnant, begged the pale men to stay. Others pleaded with Guacanagarí to accompany them into Maguana, which he refused. The wailing grew louder when it became apparent the pale men didn’t care whether the women came or not. Guacanagarí assured the women that they remained, and their unborn children would become, his subjects in every respect, and he invited them to return to Guarico.

  The pale men departed south without guide or interpreter, and Guacanagarí returned to Guarico, pondering whether Caonabó’s warning would be fulfilled. He chose not to meet his council or Arana, or even confer with his brother, and went instead to think alone by the sea. He rued that his trading relationship with the pale men had injured—rather than aggrandized—his stature among Haiti’s paramount caciques and his subordinate caciques. He brooded that, if Admiral did return, Arana still remained and the deaths of the other pale men might then be excused by their own misconduct, perhaps permitting the trading relationship to develop as envisaged and the resuscitation of his honor among caciques.

  Yet he now bitterly realized it was just as well if Admiral never returned. He would miss forever exploring a personal relationship with him. They had stru
ck a true friendship bridging the horizon, and Admiral had accorded him greater dignity than did the other paramount caciques. But, if the pale men remaining in Guarico self-destructed like the others, he could then regain the stature lost as memories of the unusual misadventure faded.

  FINAL INSTRUCTIONS,

  September 5, 1493

  On September 5, the sovereigns dispatched a letter to Cristóbal, informing him of the negotiations with King João and explaining that, to strike the best treaty, they needed to understand the degree coordinates of the route of his first voyage and the Indian discoveries. They urged his prompt departure and advised he should enlist Fray Marchena or another astronomer who could confirm the geography. They wrote Fonseca separately, again imploring prompt departure.

  Isabel also dispatched her own note to Cristóbal, returning a transcript of his journal. She warmly complimented him that he had served the sovereigns well and would receive increasing honor, favor, and wealth as deserved. She gently reminded him to send the sea chart he had repeatedly promised—crucial to the negotiations with João—and asked that he write to inform of everything in the Indies. While she thought the king would resolve the issues with João, with affection she warned Cristóbal to take precaution and not be deceived in any way.

  BY A CREEK IN MAGUANA

  Caonabó watched Anacaona and her household women bathe in a gentle creek in a lovely mountain gorge north of their village. That morning, they had attended the funeral of an elderly cacique, and there was no rush to return home. The serenity of the gorge pleased Anacaona, and they had decided to relax there for the afternoon.