Exploring Caizcimu, or Higüey Chiefdoms

Eastern part of Hispaniola (including Caizcimu and Higuey) from the 1517 Morales Map.

Higüey, or Caizcimu, the eastern part of Hispaniola, represents another region which hosted a major cacicazgo in the time of Columbus. But when one examines surviving documentary evidence, the theory of a paramount chiefdom in eastern Hispaniola becomes much weaker or ambiguous. Instead, as Alice Sampson has hinted, the peoples of Caizcimu, the face of the island of Haiti or Quisqueya, may have been part of a shifting network of chiefdoms which were not necessarily dominated by a single one for long.[1] This model is perhaps more appropriate for understanding how the societies in eastern Hispaniola were organized before colonialism. Alternatively, the area may have once been under the rule of a paramount cacique. But, at some point early in their conflicts with the Spanish, this paramount chief, Cayacoa, died. Succeeded by a wife, who later converted to Christianity, the area may have reverted to a shifting network of alliances without one single cacique paramount. In order to explore these theories, what follows will be our attempt to trace the history of Higüey (or Caizcimu) over time using documentary sources.

Spanish Colonial-Era Sources

            Naturally, one must begin with the sources from the early colonial encounter, conquest, and the rest of the sixteenth century. Beginning with Columbus, early Spanish sources provide important glimpses of various aspects of indigenous societies on the island. While few answer the types of questions we have today about the origins and political organization of the indigenous peoples of the island, the standard chronicles usually imply a powerful, paramount chiefdom existed in the eastern part of the island. Some sources name it as Higüey, yet others, like Oviedo, center it on Cayacoa, also called Agueibana.[2] The discrepancy on which cacique in the east occupied a dominant position is not clear.

Furthermore, another limitation is that our most detailed sources on the eastern tip of the island are often centered on the two wars to “pacify” the region in the time of Ovando. This means that they rarely provide historical context or background of the region’s political landscape before the wars. Except for emphasizing the leadership of Cotubanamá in these military campaigns, they cannot easily be used to claim Cotubanamá was a paramount cacique of this region. In addition, the later sources associated with the encomienda system in the 1514 Repartimiento name many caciques of the east. Depending on which chronicler one prefers, Higuanamá, Higüey, or Cayacoa each appear on the list with large numbers of indigenous followers assigned to different encomenderos in Santo Domingo, Higüey, or other towns. But from this alone, one cannot easily presume which cacique was once the most powerful before 1492.

Nonetheless, the 16^th century sources do provide some clues. One important chronicler, who never went to the Americas but was well-positioned to read the works and speak with travelers who did cross the Atlantic, was Peter Martyr d’Anghiera. Through him, readers discover that the districts of Caizcimu, the eastern “face” of Hispaniola, included Higüey, Guanama, Reyre, Xagua, Aramana, Arabo, Hazoa (Azua), Macorix, Caicoa, Guiagua, Baguanimabo, and the mountains of Haiti (Haitises). Springs of an exceptional character were in Iguanamá, Caiacoa and Quatiaqua. Further, Caizcimu extended from the eastern point of the island to the Ozama river.[3] This information, derived in part from Andrés de Morales, whose excellent map of the island drew from indigenous toponyms and references, establishes the boundaries of Caizcimu. Within this much larger space, Higüey was just one district or section of the island’s “face.”

Additional cronistas in the 1500s wrote about Higüey. For Oviedo, perhaps one of the more racist and Hispanocentric writers of this period, Cayacoa was the paramount cacique. Ruling from the Santo Domingo area to Hayna River, and to the Yuma, Cayacoa died soon after the Christians warred with him. Succeeded by his wife, Inés de Cayacoa who converted to Christianity, Oviedo unfortunately did not elucidate further.[4] Nevertheless, Oviedo, who came to the island several years after the “pacification” of the east, believed Cayacoa was once the most powerful cacique in the region. With Higüey, his area of influence extended to the mouth of the Yuma, this included Cotubanamá and Higüey under his authority.

On the other hand, the testimony of Las Casas, who arrived in the Indies earlier than Oviedo, contradicts Oviedo’s understanding of the east. In his Historia de las Indias, Las Casas specified that Cotubanamá’s settlement was near La Saona island (although the indigenous pueblos were often located in the montes). He also believed that Higuanamá was the king or cacique of Higüey, although he expressed uncertainty regarding his memory.[5] Moreover, Las Casas provided an overview of the 2 campaigns against Higüey, led by Juan de Esquivel. Despite the first one ending with a guatiao between Esquivel (who later led the conquest of Jamaica) and Cotubanamá, the second one ended with the demise of the latter. Interestingly, the Spanish forces were accompanied by indigenous auxiliaries from Ycayagua in the second campaign. This is yet another instance in which political divisions and conflict between competing chiefdoms in the eastern part of the island were implied. To what extent Ycayagua was opposed to Cotubanamá or Higüey in precolonial times is unsure, but they clearly believed it was in their interests to align with the Spanish against Cotubanamá.[6] Even more intriguing is the long-distance ties to indigenous peoples in Puerto Rico, since they enjoyed constant contact through canoes across the Mona Channel.[7] As the aforementioned name of Agueybaná for Cayacoa makes clear, there may have been alliances with indigenous peoples in Puerto Rico that shaped how different groups within Caizcimu related to each other.

After the cronistas, some Spanish sources in the form of letters or records generated by or affiliated with the encomienda system provide some clues. For instance, one letter by Pedro de Cordoba, perhaps written in 1516, alluded to Higüey. Its importance as a source of casabe for Santo Domingo was highlighted. This correspondence also blamed Salamanca’s dog for the attack on a cacique which triggered one of the wars with Higüey. Likewise, the letters also allude to 1500 indios allegedly killed whilst 17 caciques hung in Higüey.[8] If true, then many caciques of the eastern part of Hispaniola were eliminated or removed in the early 1500s. This makes it even more arduous to attempt any reconstruction of Caizcimu’s political landscape based on the 1514 Repartimiento of Albuquerque. It nonetheless hints at an alliance of at least 17 caciques who joined forces with Cotubanamá against the Spanish in the second war of Higüey. Meanwhile, the 1517 Hieronymite Interrogatory clearly establishes a link between caciques in Higüey and those of Puerto Rico who had revolted against the Spanish in the 1510s. There a cacique named Andrés celebrated the victory of indigenous people in Borinquen whilst plotting to spread a revolt against the Spanish in Hispaniola.[9] This suggests, once again, the relevance of Puerto Rico to Higüey’s indigenous leadership in the past. With exchange, migration, and alliances being relevant factors in the area before 1492.

Map of eastern Hispaniola from 1566, showing Aguiebana near Santo Domingo (Gallica).

As for the 1514 Repartimiento, multiple caciques with names linked to paramount status appear. Some even led hundreds of followers, often split to serve different encomenderos in Santo Domingo, Salvaleón de Higüey and other towns established by the Spanish. In Salvaleón de Higüey itself, Arranz Márquez’s tabulation of the figures points to about 922 indios assigned to encomenderos in the area. The following caciques were listed: Carolina de Agara, Juan Bravo, Catalina del Habacoa, Maria Higüey, and Isabel de Iguanamá. Apart from Catalina del Habacoa, who likely came from the western tip of the island, these others were apparently from Caizcimu (or near it?). Note the appearance of cacicas with Higüey and Iguanamá in their names. Based on the names alone, one may presume some continuity with preconquest chiefly lineages or territorial divisions. Yet the occupation of the office of cacique by two women in Higüey and Iguanamá may be a sign of the role of the Spanish wars in decimating the previous leadership.[10] Either way, these two women oversaw about 85% of the indigenous population enumerated in the repartimiento, a remarkable figure.[11] Besides these two women, other caciques whose names indicate some kind of relationship with major cantons of Caizcimu also led substantial numbers of indigenous people. Take (Gonzalo Fernandez) Cayacoa, whose 405 subjects were allotted to encomenderos in Santo Domingo. Besides Cayacoa, 241 people were affiliated with Diego Leal de Aramana. Moreover, another 284 were associated with Catabano del Higüey and 211 with Agueybaná de la Saona.

Naturally, using demographic data from 1514, many years after the “pacification” and the encomienda system had drastically impacted the indigenous population, can lead to misleading results. In addition, Santo Domingo as the colonial capital with encomenderos sometimes associated with the Spanish king, colonial officials, and the upper echelons of society, undoubtedly drew upon indigenous communities from various parts of the island. One wonders how the dislocation, indigenous flight from colonial centers, and deaths caused by the “pacification” campaigns of Ovando affected the population of Caizcimu, especially those close to Santo Domingo. Despite the problems with this demographic information, it suggests Maria Higüey (and her at least 2 nitaínos) led the largest number of indigenous people in the East, 443. After her, Cayacoa, closer to Santo Domingo, led 405. Catabano del Higüey, a cacica we highly suspect led the remnants of Cotubanamá’s area of  Higüey only led 284.[12] The admittedly problematic demographic evidence points to Maria Higüey, Isabel Iguanamá and Cayacoa as leading larger communities than Catabano. If this pattern was true in precolonial times, and each of these cacicazgos included similarly large numbers of people, one can speculate that Cayacoa, Iguanamá, Higüey, and Catabano were the dominant chiefdoms in the region, perhaps without one achieving permanent superiority.

Considering the limited evidence from documentary sources and the plethora of unanswered questions and contradictions, sources from the 1500s only provide glimpses of Higüey, or Caizcimu’s indigenous sociopolitical organization. That Higüey was perceived as one of the larger kingdoms or confederations of the island, and associated with both Cayacoa and Iguanamá, may be proof of the lack of a singular paramount cacique. Perhaps the region was briefly dominated by Cayacoa to the west, then Iguanamá or Higüey achieved temporary success as most powerful cacicazgos in Caizcimu?

Analyzing Later Histories of Higüey

Moving forward to the 1700s, scholarship on the topic has not progressed much. While archaeology would later become especially important in the 20^th century, in the 1700s and 1800s, most writers usually repeated the earlier accounts by cronistas. Fortunately, ethnohistorians and archaeologists with all the advantages of new methods and perspectives in these respective fields, will raise deeper questions and challenge the narratives. This section shall briefly review writings on Higüey’s indigenous past from the 1700s and 1800s. Then, a swift reading of some of the more important studies of the island’s indigenous past will follow, focusing on modern historians writing in the late 1900s and early 2000s.

First, the 1700s. Here one often comes to Charlevoix, the Jesuit priest whose history of Saint Domingue was quite good for its time. To Charlevoix, Higüey’s population were distinct for using arrows. Like Oviedo, he named the cacique as Cayacoa, who allegedly died soon after the arrival of the Spanish. For Charlevoix, Cotubanamá then succeeded the widow of Cayacoa, Agnez Cayacoa, after her death. The familiar narrative of the 2 wars between Higüey and the Spanish then followed, with Juan de Esquivel and Cotubanamá’s guatiao relationship.[13]

Besides Charlevoix, Luis Joseph Peguero, whose history of the Spanish conquest of Hispaniola was published in the 1760s, stands out. Peguero sometimes deviated from the chronicles of prior centuries, occasionally making mistakes in his analysis. However, like Charlevoix, Peguero also viewed Cayacoa as one of the principal “kings” of the island (Guarionex, Caonabo, Behechio, Cayacoa, and Guacanagari). For him, Cayacoa “dominava toda la tierra oriental.” This encompassed the cabo de Samana to San Rafael, and from Rio Hayna to Rio Yuma. Further deviating from the standard narrative, Peguero wrote that Cayacoa’s court “se llamo Acayagua.”[14] Although Las Casas wrote of the people of Ycayagua collaborating with the Spanish in the campaign against Higüey, there is no hint of Cayacoa’s capital at Acayagua or Ycayagua. To contribute further to the confusion on the part of Peguero, he later wrote that Cotubanamá was killed alongside Cayacoa in the second war of Higüey. Nevertheless, Peguero did emphasize the significance of the montes for the indigenous people of the area: Tenían los indios de Higüey las más poblaciones dentro de las Montañas.”[15]

Next, the 19^th century witnessed the appearance of Haitian writer Émile Nau’s magisterial history of the caciques of the island. Even before Nau, Beaubrun Ardouin, in his Geographie, repeated the common claim of Cayacoa as the ruler of Higüey.[16] Nau, on the other hand, wrote extensively on the indigenous peoples and their conquest by the Spanish. Like Peguero, Nau preferred a sequence in which Cayacoa, then his widow, and finally, Cotubanamá, were the rulers of Higüey. He expanded further by speculating on “Carib” ancestry in Higüey and the allegedly colossal stature of Cotubanamá. Nau also wrote about the use of smoke signals by the Indians of Higüey during their war with the Spanish. In terms of the provinces of Higüey, he broke it down in the following list: Azoa, Maniel, Cayacoa, Bonao, Cayemi, Macao, and the capital was at the town of Higüey.[17] Nau’s focus understandably centers on Higüey’s two wars with the Spanish, but his speculations about “Carib” admixture in this part of Hispaniola may be related to the use of the bow and arrow in this region. It may be a sign of Ciguayo influence or Macorix presence.[18]  But in the main, Nau follows the standard narrative of the early chronicles with an emphasis on Cayacoa as the original “king” of Higüey.

An area of Alonso de Santa Cruz's map of Hispaniola seems to read Cotubane or Cotubano in the area of Higuey. 

In the following century, one can begin to trace the advances in the field of indigenous Caribbean archaeology, history, and linguistics. Unsurprisingly, one of the early major figures in this was Sven Loven, whose Origins of the Tainan Culture represented a major contribution. Nonetheless, he too repeated the Cayacoa narrative, in which Cayacoa and then his wife, Inés, were the rulers of Higüey.[19] Dominican historian Casimiro N. de Moya followed this, except Higuanamá succeeded Cayacoa before Cotubanamá. Moya also claimed that the people of Higüey sold captives to the Caribs and Juan de Esquivel allegedly ordered the hanging of Higuanamá.[20] Later, the Haitian academic, Michel Aubourg, in Haïti préhistorique, emphasized the bellicose nature of the Higüey Indians was due to their fighting with the Caribs. They were ruled by Cayacoa, succeeded by Cotubanamá.[21]

Subsequent authors of the last century, particularly in its second half, contributed greatly to a more nuanced reading of the various cacicazgos of Hispaniola. Anderson-Córdova’s Surviving Spanish Conquest noted the uniqueness of Higüey in the 1514 Repartimiento. Indeed, Salvaleón de Higüey was the only town that had a high average number of Indians per community (172.60 in her reading of the numbers). Although about 28% of Higüey’s remaining indigenous population was expected to provide labor for encomenderos in Santo Domingo, Anderson-Córdova was correct to note the special demographics of this part of the island.[22] Stone’s Captives of Conquest: Slavery in the Early Modern Spanish Caribbean was similarly important for stressing the enslavement of many Higüeyanos in the wars of “pacification.” She also viewed Cotubanamá as a lesser cacique of the region who, despite his lower status, was the first to rise against Ovando’s labor policies. In all, the Spanish may have brought a minimum of 4000 slaves from Higüey in those two wars, suggestive of the scale of enslavement and the dislocation experienced by communities in the early 1500s. Notarial records even indicate that dozens of Taíno slaves were in Sevilla in 1503, many likely the product of the war in Higüey.[23]

Besides these aforementioned authors, several other academics or writers have addressed the issue of Higüey’s precolonial past. Gilbert Valmé, for instance, drew from archaeological and historical literature to approach the topic. According to Valmé, Higüey, the site of El Atajdizo, of 0.47 hectares and built 1000-1300 CE, may have been at least one of the centers of the region. Caizcimu supposedly contained about 11 of what Valmé considers to be simple caciquats. Yet once again, Cayacoa (considered to have been located around Los Llanos) was presumed to have been the greatest caciquat of Caizcimu.[24] In fact, archaeological evidence does support the importance of El Atajadizo and La Aleta as ceremonial centers of the region in the past.[25] Indeed, Samuel M. Wilson has referred to El Atajadizo as a large ceremonial center, meeting the expectations of a possible center of a major cacicazgo.[26]

Last but certainly not least, more recent scholarship has produced some of the most useful works on tentatively determining the confines of Higüey. Bernardo Vega, for example, drew from various maps, the chronicles, and other sources. According to Vega, Higüey, or Higuei, was centered on the zone of the Yuma. Guaygua was located at an affluent of the Soco river. Guanama may have been an area east of La Romana. Cayacoa was in today’s Los Llanos. Aramana, by his reckoning, was to the east of Hato Mayor. Arabo was likely between La Romana and Cumayasa. Vega even proposed an etymology for the name Higuei, linking it to jaguey. This may be true since the region was full of jagueyes or springs.[27] Indeed, Peter Martyr d’Anghiera reported the presence of exceptional springs in Iguanamá, Caiacoa (Cayacoa), and Quatiaqua, perhaps support for Vega’s theory. Vega’s theory also shifts our attention to Caizcimu as a larger region encompassing Higüey and other centers, presumably based on Andrés de Morales.

Besides Vega, Jose Oliver has also investigated Higüey’s history. Whilst also reporting the general narrative of Spanish-indigenous conflicts that triggered two wars, Oliver also raises more interesting questions of the area’s precolonial antiquity. Thus, the shared material culture in cemis, stone collars, and other artifacts suggest potent ties between caciques of Puerto Rico and eastern Hispaniola, stretching back to 600 CE. Oliver contextualizes this within a larger period of 450-800 years of sustained relationships connecting Higüey to Puerto Rico.[28] Consequently, Higüey’s cultural similarities with Puerto Rico’s indigenous groups point to some inter-island or broader Caribbean exchange and relations. Moreover, one could suggest these ties may have been a factor in the appearance of common names like Agueybaná on both islands. If Cayacoa, or Agueybaná and Agueybaná in Saona were bound by kinship with what may have been the leading chiefdom in Puerto Rico, the story of Caizcimu’s competing polities or perhaps peer polities may have been related to the international dimensions of its relations.

Conclusion

Upon consideration of many of the available sources on Higüey from the 1500s to the present, its status as a paramount chiefdom remains in doubt. From sources in the 1500s, one hears of either Higuanamá or Cayacoa as the dominant cacique. While this contradiction may have been related to the different wars between the Spanish and indigenous peoples in eastern Hispaniola leading to the capture or execution of some caciques, Higüey is remarkable for the persistence of indigenous cacique names or toponyms tied to the precolonial past. Led by women, Maria Higüey and Isabel de Iguanamá, Higüey was unique for one of the only regions of the island where two women still led substantial communities comprising most of the indigenous people assigned to encomenderos in a town. Since one cannot use demographic data from 1514 to fully reconstruct what the situation was like in 1492, the data tentatively supports the existence of at least a handful of substantial chiefdoms in the “face” of Hispaniola. Later data often inherited the same confusion or contradictions in the early colonial sources, but often emphasizing Cayacoa, Cotubanamá, or Iguanamá as the paramount leaders of Higüey. This conflicting data best fits the model proposed by Alice Samson. Essentially, Higüey was not a singular or unified chiefdom but more of a network of intricately connected chiefdoms. Occasionally, one may have achieved dominance, but the available sources do not allow for a clear identification. Unlike, say, Xaragua, where sources concur with Behechio and, after him, Anacaona, as paramount chiefs, Higüey may have lacked a singular leader or matunheri chief.

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[1] Alice Sampson, Renewing the House: Trajectories of social life in the yucayeque (community) of El Cabo, Higüey, Dominican Republic, AD 800 to 1504, 95.

[2] The appearance of the name Agueybaná in Cayacoa (near the site of Santo Domingo), Saona, and Puerto Rico is hardly a coincidence. Given the longstanding ties between eastern Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, and the fact that at least one cacique in Higüey claimed to be related to caciques in the neighboring island, one can assume the name was part of the system of guatiao fictive and biological kinship relations.

[3] Peter Martyr d’Anghiera, Francis Augustus MacNutt (trans.), De orbe novo, the eight Decades of Peter Martyr d'Anghera, 366-367, 379.

[4] Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo y Valdés, Historia general y natural de las Indias, Primera Parte (1851), 65.

[5] In his Apologética historia sumaria, 244. Las Casas wrote of Higuanamá as an old woman who ruled Higüey in his time (presumably referring to when Las Casas participated in the second Higüey War of 1504-1505?). Cayacoa or Agueibana was to the west of Higüey, but he clearly viewed Higüey, under Higuanamá, as the paramount cacique of this region. The reference to an old woman named Higuanamá raises questions. Was she the widow of Cayacoa? And what does one make of Macao, supposedly a large pueblo of the Indians in the region (Apologetica historia sumaria, 116)? One is inclined to view large settlements or villages as more likely capitals of paramount chiefs.

[6] Bartolomé de las Casas, Historia de las Indias Vol. 3, 41-42, 46-47, 85.

[7] Ibid., 235. For a speculative theory which traces the origin of the three-pointer cemi in Puerto Rico to eastern Hispaniola, see Marcio Veloz Maggiolo, Arqueología prehistórica de Santo Domingo, 251. There the author offers a fascinating theory for cultural influences from Hispaniola to Puerto Rico, which undoubtedly made Higüey an important part of this relationship.

[8] Medina, P. M. A. “CARTAS de Pedro de Córdoba y de La Comunidad Dominica, Algunas Refrendadas Por Los Franciscanos.” Guaraguao 21, no. 54 (2017): 182-183, 206.

[9] “Interrogatorio jeronimiano, 1517” in Emilio Rodriguez Demorizi, Los domínicos y las encomiendas de indios de la Isla Española, 346-347.

[10] Women leaders, or cacicas, were not necessarily a result of Spanish conquest and wars. However, the predominance of women cacicas, Catabano del Higüey, Higüey, Iguanamá and Aramana, may be partly a consequence of the brutal Spanish wars killing off or enslaving males.

[11] See Luiz Arranz Márquez, Repartimientos y encomiendas en la Isla Española: el repartimiento de Albuquerque de 1514, 560-564 for numbers of indigenous people associated with caciques assigned to encomenderos in Higüey and Santo Domingo.

[12] The map of Alonso de Santa Cruz in Islario general de todas las islas del mundo depicts a region called Cotubano or Cotubane across the sea from Saona. We highly suspect this part of Higüey was ruled by Cotubanamá given his proximity to Saona.

[13] Charlevoix, Histoire de l'Isle espagnole ou de S. Domingue. Tome 1 (1730), 63, 222.

[14] Luis Joseph Peguero, Historia de la Conquista, de la Isla Española de Santo Domingo trasumptada el año de 1762: traducida de la Historia general de las Indias escrita por Antonio de Herrera coronista mayor de Su Magestad, y de las Indias, y de Castilla, y de otros autores que han escrito sobre el particular, Volume 1, 79, 110.

[15] Ibid., 147, 149.

[16] Beaubrun Ardouin, Géographie de l'ile d'Haïti: précédée du précis et de la date des événemens les plus remarquables de son histoire, 3. Haitian historian Thomas Madiou had little to say on this, although he did note that Higüey and Seybe contained a population of mixed Spanish-Indian ancestry. See Histoire d’Haiti, 1492-1807, 452.

[17] Émile Nau, Histoire des caciques d'Haïti (1894), 51, 62, 235, 242, 248, 318.

[18] The use of the bow and arrow by indigenous people in Samana was noted by Columbus in the 1490s.

[19] Sven Loven, Origins of the Tainan Culture, West Indies, 504, 526.

[20] Casimiro N. de Moya, Bosquejo histórico del descubrimiento y conquista de la isla de Santo Domingo y narración de los principales sucesos ocurridos en la parte española de ella desde la sumisión de su último cacique hasta nuestros días. Epoca de la conquista y gobierno de los españoles hasta la sumisión de los últimos indios. Libro primero, 30, 114. This notion of the Higüey Indians selling captives to the Caribs is interesting but appears nowhere else (to our knowledge) in the sources.

[21] Michel Aubourg, Haïti préhistorique: mémoire sur les cultures précolombiennes, Ciboney et Taino, 48.

[22] Karen F. Anderson-Córdova, Surviving Spanish Conquest: Indian Fight, Flight, and Cultural Transformation in Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, 100-101.

[23] Erin Woodruff Stone, Captives of Conquest: Slavery in the Early Modern Spanish Caribbean, 44-45.

[24] Gilbert Valmé, Atabey, Yucayequey, Caney: 6000 ans d'amenagement territorial prehispanique sur l'ile d'Ayiti / Haiti/ Republique Dominicaine, 180, 200, 214-215.

[25] Kathleen Deagan, En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town before and after Columbus, 40.

[26] Samuel M. Wilson, Hispaniola: Caribbean Chiefdoms in the Age of Columbus, 21. In terms of Higüey’s leadership, Wilson also repeats the narrative of Higuanamá as the major cacique, based on Las Casas.

[27] Bernardo Vega, Los cacicazgos de la Hispaniola, 23-24, 77.

[28] Jose Oliver, Caciques and Cemi Idols: The Web Spun by Taino Rulers Between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico, 203-204.

Blacks and Indians in Hispaniola

Whilst perusing Gallica's Collection Moreau Saint-Méry again, we were reminded of a series of French translations and notes on the history of the black race on the island of Hispaniola. Entitled De l'introduction des nègres à Saint-Domingue de leurs révoltes, de leur traitement, etc., it essentially covers 1502 to the early 1700s, including both the Spanish and French colonies. 

Included in it are two laws from 1573 and 1589. Both are intriguing for the tiny glimpses they provide into relations between people of Amerindian and African descent in the colony. Of course, by 1573 and 1589, there likely were not many people on the island counted as "Indian." Presumably, this included remnants of the aboriginal population of the island as well as captives and others from different parts of the Americas. Nonetheless, the 1573 law implies that people of African and indigenous ancestry were having children together, raising questions about the tax responsibility of their progeny. The later law, from 1589, implies that free and enslaved blacks were, at least in some cases, exploiting and treating indigenous women as concubines. 

Banning Carib and Indian Enslavement (1739)

Whilst randomly perusing Gallica and other sites, we came across Copie d'un ordre du roi interdisant de réduire en esclavage les Indiens Caraïbes, a royal declaration banning the enslavement of Caribs or Kalinago peoples in the French Caribbean. Dated 1739, it obviously did not completely ban or outlaw the enslavement of Kalinago and other indigenous peoples. After all, "Caribs" even appear in some of the runaway slave notices in Saint Domingue from later decades. 

Higuanama Op. 16

Whilst randomly searching online for information about Higuey in precolonial and early colonial times, we came across a classical piece named in honor of a woman believed to have ruled Higuey at the time of contact with the Spanish. Composed by Pénélope Bigazzi, we are unsure of the inspiration for its title as the author was not from the DR or the Caribbean.

Cacique Enrique's 1534 Letter

 

Whilst perusing PARES again, we came across the 1534 letter by Cacique Enrique online. Entitled Carta del [cacique] Enrique, indio, informando sobre la agrupación en pueblos de los indios y cimarrones de la provincia de Tierra Firme por parte del gobernador Francisco de Barrionuevo. It has been translated by Lynne A. Guitar in Cultural Genesis: Relationships among Indians, Africans, and Spaniards in Rural Hispaniola. To Guitar, it was essentially a letter of capitulation by Enrique and perhaps the only known document authored by a "Taino" person. Since the letter expresses Enrique's recognition of the imperial majesty of the Spanish king and its author promises peace and calm on the island, Guitar's description of it is apt. Whether or not Cacique Enrique actually wrote this is another question. As a literate person, however, he could have dictated it and read it to ensure it expressed his perspective. As such, it is one of the few written sources by an indigenous "Taino"from their perspective. It's unfortunate that more documents have not been uncovered yet. With the education that some caciques received (both in the Caribbean and Spain), one would think more documents might exist in Sevilla or other archives...

Revisiting Contribution à l'étude de l'ethnobotanique précolombienne des Grandes Antilles

After reading numerous other studies on the indigenous peoples of the Caribbean, revisiting Jacques Roumain's "Contribution à l'étude de l'ethnobotanique précolombienne des Grandes Antilles" in Oeuvres Complètes  is a more meaningful experience. As the only substantial article on the indigenous peoples of Haiti (and the Greater Antilles) by Roumain, this piece from the 1940s shows Roumain attempting to bring together the historical, archaeological and linguistic sources. An added benefit is the inclusion of Haitian Creole names for various flora of the region, not just the Taino and Spanish names (often derived from the Taino or indigenous names). This is particularly interesting as one can see how Haitian Creole words for local flora are often not of Taino origin, though hardly shocking. But as one of the few articles that tries to bring Haitian perspectives into conversation with sources drawn from Spanish, English or German sources, Roumain's work shows there is a place for Haitian perspectives. Indeed, the Puerto Rican scholar, Francisco Moscoso, made a point of citing Nau for his understanding of how Taino chiefdoms worked through tribute obligations. One only wishes Roumain had lived long enough to explore other dynamics of indigenous Caribbean archaeology and socio-political questions. Perhaps Haitian ethnology could have maintained a more serious interest in the indigenous theme.

The Cacicazgo of Maguana

The island on the Axis Mundi with San Juan de la Maguana as the center of the world (in Valmé, Atabey, Yucayequey, Caney : 6000 ans d'amenagement territorial prehispanique sur l'ile d'Ayiti / Haiti/ Republique Dominicaine).

Exploring the history of the cacicazgo of Maguana is exceedingly difficult. Since we only know of Caonabo, its leader at the time of Columbus's arrival in Hispaniola, speculation and the use of the meager details of his life are the best clues. In addition, the topography of the island, Maguana's relations with other cacicazgos and the traditions of Indian misterios which have survived in the region of San Juan de la Maguana are the other types of evidence one must consult. Besides these, the brief references in the Spanish chronicles and some of the encomienda system's records are most of what one can work with. We shall begin with the chronicles and Columbus, then shift to other types of sources to reconstruct a plausible theory for Maguana. Then, with a review of 20th century scholarship and more contemporary studies, we shall endeavor to understand the features of the Maguana chiefdom. It will be shown that Caonabo's political career and function as a stranger king made him well-poised to understand the threat posed by the Spanish to the balance of power. In truth, as a stranger who was able to achieve great political power and status, Caonabo understood better than anyone else why the Spanish were such a threat.

Non-Spanish Early Sources

First, the non-Spanish chronicles and histories. Moreau de Saint-Mery wrote that Maguana was bordered to its south by the sea, on its north by the mountain chains, on its east by the Jayna (Haina) River, and on its west by the mountains of Bahoruco.[1] For Charlevoix, the Jesuit historian, Maguana included the Cibao and its leader, Caonabo, was the most powerful monarch on the island. Supposedly, Maguana was able to, with the aid of its allies no doubt, muster 100,000 warriors led by Manicatex, a brother of Caonabo.[2] Cuneo, a much earlier source, attributed the total forces Caonabo capable of mustering to be 50,000, so one presumes Manicatoex was receiving reinforcements from a broader alliance.[3] Nau, the 19th century Haitian historian of the island's indigenous peoples, repeated the narrative of Caonabo's Carib origin. One of Maguana's provinces included Niti, too.[4] Unsurprisingly, Nau likely drew on the same sources as the earlier Francophone chronicles and texts. 

An anonymous Frenchman, who presumably drew on oral tradition, also wrote about Caonabo. In his case, the treasure of Caonabo was thrown in the river by a wife after she heard the god of the Spanish was gold. This lost treasure apparently consisted of 300 plaques of gold, 52 charges of gold, a throne (presumably a duho) and a gold table. Locals even reported that the treasure of Caonabo was still somewhere in this river.[5] However, the region around San Juan de la Maguana was perceived by some non-Spanish writers as a part of the island in which people with mixed-race Indian ancestry could be found.[6] So even into the 17th century, the area around San Juan de la Maguana had a partly recognizable indigenous heritage. Indeed, even Thomas Madiou reproduced a discourse by a commandant of San Juan de la Maguana from the 1820s which reiterated the notion of indigenous ancestry.[7] Last, but certainly not least, Robert Schomburgk visited the site of the Corral de los Indios, a ceremonial center that is often said to be the largest plaza in the Caribbean. Although Schomburgk referred to it as a "Cercado de los Indios," it is obvious he was referring to the same Corral.[8] Its tremendous size and the use of a rock with evidence for eyes and a mouth near the center of the plaza must have held some kind of cosmological or ritual significance. Despite their limitations, these pre-20th century French and English sources do give a sense in which indigenous traditions may have survived in the region of San Juan de la Maguana. Naturally, this could very well be part of the legacy of Maguana and provide possible clues to the region. Thus, the association of water with indigenous spirits in the region today could very well be an example of indigenous retentions.[9]

Spanish-Language Early Sources

Moving on to Spanish sources, the language of all the primary sources, scholars have additional details and more questions emerge. First, Columbus and others who visited Hispaniola in the 1490s provide the earliest written sources to mention Caonabo or areas allegedly part of his domains. For example, Columbus, who met Caonabo, referred to him as "a man advanced in years and of great knowledge and very keen understanding.”[10] This suggests that Caonabo was perhaps middle-aged or older by this time. He was not young or politically inexperienced, as Guacanagari of Marien may have been. In fact, Columbus's journal on the First Voyage likely alludes to parts of Caonabo's territory when referring to places east of Marien: Guarionex, Macorix, Mayonic, Fuma, Cibao, and Coroay.[11] It is highly likely that the Cibao was part of Caonabo's territory, and Mayonic could have been Columbus's garbled rendering of Maguana. In his other writings, Columbus similarly described interactions with Caonabo and the land of Maguana. For instance, he knew of "Cahonaboa" as "el cual posee tierra en que ay mucho oro.”[12] 

Elsewhere, in a memorial from 1494, Columbus referred to Caonabo as "que es ombre, según la relación de todos, muy malo e muy más atrevido.”[13] Clearly written during the period of conflict with the powerful native ruler, Columbus acknowledged the bold daring of Caonabo. This is why Columbus urged the sending of European gifts to Caonabo to help lower his guard. The giving of gifts was quickly understood by Columbus to be important in establishing close ties with the indigenous elite of the island. But on Maguana specifically, Columbus's writings report "y este Cahonabo dizen que en la tierra donde vive ay mucho oro mas es tierra muy montañosa."[14] Upon consideration of Caonabo's name, translated as "Lord of the Golden House" by Martyr d'Anghiera, the cacique's territory must have included gold-producing parts of the island. When he visited Maguana itself in 1495, Columbus noted the land's proximity to the sierras and its acequias or irrigation ditches, "como en Granada," to exploit the plentiful sources of water.[15] This reference to the use of irrigation canals or ditches is especially significant. Since the use of the same method of irrigation was used in Xaragua, whose leader at the time was a brother-in-law of Caonabo, one is tempted to consider a technological transfer from Xaragua to Maguana. Alternatively, both regions may have begun using irrigation systems much earlier. Regardless of the origin of this practice, it would have greatly increased the agricultural potential and provided higher population densities. This could explain the large number of houses in Maguana's central settlement, which Lynne Guitar claimed exceeded 1000.[16] 

In addition to Columbus, a plethora of other Spanish sources and chroniclers of the first half of the 16th century mentioned Caonabo and Maguana. For instance, Martyr d'Anghiera's De Orbe Novo gave a translation of Caonabo's name. Furthermore, based on Morales's map of Hispaniola and other sources, d'Anghiera located Maguana in Bainoa. Maguana itself was a valley through which the Bahaun River flowed. Caonabo's siege of Alonso de Ojeda in the Fort of Saint Thomas was also mentioned, including the bewildering tale of Caonabo's capture and imprisonment by Ojeda. Like Columbus, d'Anghiera also stressed that Caonabo ruled "Cipangu" (a misunderstanding on the part of Columbus for the Cibao, mistakenly identifying it with Japan). But with a much smaller estimate of warriors, Caonabo's brother was only able to gather 5000 men but they were defeated by the Spanish (with the brother's capture, too).[17] Ferdinand Columbus, the son of the Admiral, also referred to Caonabo in his biography of his father. In this case, it was to the enmity between Caonabo and Guacanagari as the former had stolen the wife of the other.[18] Although Columbus's son offered a different narrative of Caonabo's capture, the general picture is consistent with the other sources on Caonabo's destruction of La Navidad and conflict with the Spanish. Las Casas, on the other hand, provided a richer description of Maguana. For this author, Maguana was located near the Cibao and consisted of valleys, rivers, plains, and sierras. It was fertile, enjoyed a moderate temperature, and the Yaqui river passed through its territory. Maguana's name referred to the fact that it was a smaller vega than Maguá, the cacicazgo held by the family of Guarionex.[19] Las Casas even gives some dimensions for Maguana, cited by Sued-Badillo as being 30 leagues long and 25 leagues wide.[20] 

The other 16th century sources include Oviedo's Historia general y natural de las Indias and the records associated with the 1514 Repartimiento. Oviedo, who came to the island long after the demise of Caonabo, believed the cacique was of Carib origin. Moreover, he also saw the Ciguayos as subjects of Caonabo.[21] This seems unlikely if the Ciguayos were based in Samaná, closer to the territory of Guarionex. The 16th century records on the encomiendas of San Juan de la Maguana and other towns in c. 1514 also allude to some details on Maguana. Of the 1,435 Indians assigned to encomenderos there, some were the western part of the island. For example, a cacique named Baltasar de Higuamuco likely came from the territory Las Casas described as east of Guahaba. Others who likely came from the cacicazgo of Maguana in precolonial times were assigned to encomenderos in other towns. Thus, Hernando del Maguanabo, perhaps his name referring to "House of Maguana," was assigned to Diego de Ocampo in Bonao.[22] Although his following only consisted of 45 people, his name is highly suggestive of someone who may have hailed from the precolonial Maguana elite. Other familiar names among the indigenous leadership include Enrique, who later led a long-lasting revolt against Spanish authority from the Bahoruco Mountains. As the nephew of Anacaona, the wife of Caonabo, his presence in the Bahoruco area and San Juan de la Maguana must have held some appeal to indigenous people who remembered Caonabo for his fierce resistance to the Spanish.

Another cacique who may have been tied to Maguana was Manicaotex, assigned to an encomendero in  La Concepción with 79 indigenous people in his community.[23] There is no evidence this is the same person as the brother of Caonabo with the same name, but a connection is possible. In fact, the name is reminiscent of the Taino word manicato, perhaps signifying a bold leader. Another cacique who may have been originally from the area of San Juan de la Maguana (or Azua, likely part of the larger cacicazgo of Maguana) was Alonso de Ojeda. Though assigned to an encomendero in La Buenaventura, the Hieronymite Interrogatory of 1517 specifically named him as one of the caciques who conspired to flee and resist Spanish attempts at forced relocations.[24] With 135 indigenous people under his leadership, he may have been one of the more important caciques in the Maguana or Azua area.[25] 

Lingering Questions and Modern Sources

After reviewing the French and Spanish (and one English article) sources on Maguana before the 20th century, there are many questions which remain. Was Maguana's dimensions as given by Las Casas accurate? Was Caonabo a Lucayo or Carib? To what extent were the people in the Bahoruco and areas near the modern Haitian border part of his domains? And was his marriage with Anacaona a later development in his life after he consolidated his power at the head of Maguana? Undoubtedly, the marriage alliance with Anacaona strengthened his political position among the matunheri caciques of the island. One wonders if Caonabo's political rise, despite his foreign origins, was tied to a guatiao or fictive kinship link with the previous lineage of Maguana.  Or, was Caonabo a Lucayo or "Carib" related to the ruling dynasty of Maguana? The question of Caonabo's 3 or 4 brothers and the apparent succession of the throne to a brother might be an indication of maternal lineage rooted in the region. Perhaps Caonabo's branch was able to seize power through the effective military leadership of Caonabo. Furthermore, one wonders if the Uxmatex, a cacique and captain of Caonabo, was another one of his brothers.

Moving into the 20th century, several secondary sources shed further light on Maguana with the aid of ethnohistory and newer approaches to the archive. The 20^th century Dominican historian, Casimiro Moya, speculated that the territory of Maguana encompassed the Cibao, Maniey, Azua and Banique.[26] Sven Loven, author of a masterpiece on the indigenous Caribbean, seemed to prefer Caonabo as a Lucayo whose success in wars preceded his ascent to the position of cacique of Maguana. He also believed that the Corral de los Indios was a sanctuary site. The crown of Caonabo was also described as having wings and gold-encrusted eyes.[27] Samuel Wilson, based on Las Casas, recounted how Caonabo was captured and the brass bell of La Isabela that could talk.[28] Intriguingly, the fact that it took 18 months before Behechio of Xaragua tried to annex parts of Maguana after the fall of Caonabo was also important, perhaps showing how the defeat of Caonabo and his brother destroyed the paramount chiefdom's stability.[29] E.W. Stone likewise proposes the sacred spaces held by Maguana included El Cacique de Charco de los Indios, Río Chacuey, Cueva Pomier, and Pico Duarte would have enhanced the status of Caonabo.[30] 

Besides these 20th century sources, several additional scholars have analyzed aspects of Caonabo's life or the Maguana cacicazgo. Valmé, drawing on a perhaps erroneous method, estimated the Corral de los Indios site's batey, of 37,994 square meters, could have held 11,400 people. Moreover, Maguana contained more than 45 drainage basins, another sign of the area's agricultural potential and attraction to people.[31] Bernardo Vega, who drew heavily upon the map of Morales and other sources, problematically asserted a Ciguayo origin for Caonabo but failed to provide evidence.[32]  Cassá, however, theorized that Caonabo wanted to use Christian cemí power in his war against the Spanish, which could be why Caonabo was willing to accept European gifts.[33] Deagan, in her study of En Bas Saline, the probable site of Guacanagari's capital, has also cited sources on Columbus enslaving 600 of Caonabo's subjects in 1494/5.[34] 

Significantly, Jean Fouchard, the Haitian historian, also proposed that a Haitian "Chant de guerre de Caonabo" from the 19th century is an authentic specimen of indigenous literature. First published in La Selve's study of Haitian literature, the song is full of Kalinago words like boutou. There's also a proposal that Caonabo was from Guadeloupe, which is interesting since the indigenes of Guadeloupe were in contact with Puerto Rico.[35] It is not implausible for an adventuresome Kalinago from Guadeloupe or the Lesser Antilles to have reached Hispaniola, too. But the chant's fusion of mostly Kalinago words with a few examples of Taino words seems more typical of a 19th century Haitian literary style, which sometimes conflated Kalinago and Taino cultures. Thus, the song is full of words like Kouroumon and Bayakou. The song also refers to Guacanagari as a traitor, which does match how chroniclers described the animosity between Guacanagari and other caciques of Hispaniola.[36] Since the song's origins are unclear and it is unlikely to be an authentic war song from 1492 or 1493, it is perhaps better seen as an example of how 19th century Haitian authors imagined the areyto. Nonetheless, the claim of an origin in Guadeloupe for Caonabo is not outside the realm of plausibility and has at least some basis in the Spanish chronicles.

The most important sources on Caonabo, however, are the works of Keegan and Ostapkowicz. The former, author of a study on Caonabo as a stranger king, draws extensively on his own archaeological research in the Lucayan islands. Keegan has also tied the notion of Caonabo as "Carib" to a Taino mythical geography. Moreover, the references in the sources to Caonabo and his 3 brothers are reminiscent of Deminan and his 3 brothers in Taino myth).[37] If Caonabo was a wise, stranger figure whose life could parallel important figures in Taino mythology, this model may elucidate how he was able to ascend to the status of most powerful cacique on the island. Keegan even suggests that he could have been the guardian of the mythical cave of origin, Cacibajagua, if it was included in his domains.[38] Of course, we have argued against the location of Cacibajagua in the domains of Caonabo,[39] but the central location of Guacanagari and the gigantic plaza at El Corral de los Indios likely has cosmological significance that went beyond the confines of Maguana. In terms of archaeology, Keegan has identified a possible site for an important village Caonabo may have come from: the MC-6 settlement established no earlier than 1300.[40] If Caonabo was indeed a Lucayan, as indicated by Las Casas, he could have come from this important, cosmologically charged site that was linked to Hispaniola. Indeed, Maguana may have represented the center of the island and the center of the world from the perspective of the indigenous peoples, a notion also shared by Valmé.

Ostapkowicz, on the other hand, brings a keen attention to detail and textual sources with a study of Taino material culture. In her thesis, a study of the Taino duho, Columbus is cited for Caonabo's explanation that every principal cacique of the island believed that after death, people go to a valley where they see their ancestors, eat, access their wives, and more. Caonabo explained that every cacique believed the valley of the afterlife was located somewhere in their own territory, perhaps implying that Coabay was not located in a single place.[41] In her recent study of cloth and fibrous materials, Ostapkowicz delves into an analysis of various items received in tribute from Caonabo's community in 1495. A combination of belts, masks with gold parts, naguas, hammocks, cotton, and sheets of gold were collected from Caonabo's Indians.[42] The presence of much material using cloth, though not as much as the cloth and textiles found in Anacaona's storehouse, indicates the degree to which cotton and textiles were part of the wealth of a cacique. As one of the most powerful caciques, and one whose name referred to gold, it is striking how so much of the tribute collected from Caonabo's subjects consisted of cloth. While gold was used with the masks and other objects given to the Spanish, one can detect a similar sense of value and wealth in Caonabo's Maguana as that of Xaragua. Given the close ties between Xaragua and Maguana, as well as the use of irrigation canals in both chiefdoms, perhaps cotton was one of the additional sources of wealth for Maguana. Alternatively, cotton may have been given in gift exchanges between Xaragua and Maguana, with the latter possibly serving as a source of gold. 

Conclusion

In summation, the mystery of Caonabo remains. For about 500 years, writers have disagreed on his origin. Keegan's theory of a possible origin in Middle Caicos is intriguing, but of course only a speculation. The "Carib" origin theory could still be true, but academics should explore the links between Hispaniola and the Lesser Antilles. For instance, the finding of Hispaniola-styled duhos at sites in the Lesser Antilles may be evidence of elite exchange or trade, perhaps pointing to a possible Kalinago origin of Caonabo through one of these networks. Moreover, questions remain on the domain of Maguana and how the chiefdom may have looked before 1492. In terms of the chiefdom's characteristics, the existence of irrigation canals or ditches as well as control of gold-producing areas likely made Maguana a populous center of attraction for much of Hispaniola. The alliance with Xaragua, another densely populated region with ample cotton production, likely included military dimensions that may have made Caonabo one of, if not the most, powerful caciques in Hispaniola. Finally, Caonabo's foreign origins and deft navigation of the political landscape of the island made him the best positioned to understand the threat posed by the Spanish.

 

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[1]  M.L.E. Moreau de Saint-Méry, A topographical and political description of the Spanish part of Saint-Domingo: containing, general observations on the climate, population, and productions; on the character and manners of the inhabitants; with an account of the several branches of the government, Volume 1, 34.

[2] Pierre-François-Xavier de Charlevoix, Histoire de l'Isle espagnole ou de S. Domingue, Vol. 1, 81-82, 172.

[3] Carl Ortwin Sauer, The Early Spanish Main, 84.

[4] Émile Nau, Histoire des caciques d'Haïti, 116-117.

[5] Cultivateur de la Haute-Saône, Observations météorologiques et physiques sur St.-Domingue. Description du Rio-del-Oro, ou Rivière d'Or de Christophe Colomb. Découverte des mines d'or par cet amiral. Renseignemens sur les trésors du cacique Caonabo. Origine des peuples d'Amérique. Description de leur berceau. Ages des deux mondes. Numéro 6 /, 32-33.

[6]  Alexander O. Exquemelin, The Buccaneers of America, 36.

[7] Thomas Madiou, Histoire d’Haiti, Tome VI, 356.

[8] Robert Schomburgk, “Ethnological Researches in Santo Domingo,” 91-92.

[9] Martha Ellen Davis, La otra ciencia: el vodu dominicano el vodú dominicano como religión y medicina populares, 138.

[10] Christopher Columbus in Ramón Pané, An Account of the Antiquities of the Indians, 45.

[11] Christopher Columbus, The Journal of Christopher Columbus (During His First Voyage), 141.

[12] Cristóbal Colón, Textos y documentos completos: Relaciones de viajes, cartas y memoriales, 243.

[13] Ibid., 256.

[14] Ibid., 277.

[15] Ibid., 324.

[16] Lynne Guitar, Cultural Genesis: Relationships among Indians, Africans, and Spaniards in rural. Hispaniola, first half of the sixteenth century, 121.

[17] Peter Martyr d’Anghiera, De Orbe Novo.

[18] Ferdinand Columbus, The Life of the Admiral Christopher Columbus by His Son, 148.

[19]  Bartolomé de Las Casas, Apologética historia sumaria.

[20] Jalil Sued-Badillo, Caribe taíno: Ensayos históricos sobre el siglo XVI, 19.

[21] Gonzalo Fernandez de Oviedo, Historia general y natural de las Indias, primera parte Vol. 1, 67.

[22] Luis Arranz Márquez, Repartimientos y encomiendas en la Isla Española (El repartimiento de Alburquerque de 1514), 569.

[23] Ibid., 584.

[24] Behique Dunama, “Interrogatorio de los Jeronimos.”

[25] Luis Arranz Márquez, Repartimientos y encomiendas en la Isla Española (El repartimiento de Alburquerque de 1514), 567.

[26] Casimiro Moya, Bosquejo histórico del descubrimiento y conquista de la isla de Santo Domingo y narración de los principales sucesos ocurridos en la parte española de ella desde la sumisión de su último cacique hasta nuestros días: Epoca de la conquista y gobierno de los españoles hasta la sumisión de los últimos indios. Libro primero, Volume 1, 23.

[27] Sven Loven, Origins of the Tainan Culture, West Indies, 97, 509.

[28] Samuel Wilson, Hispaniola: Caribbean Chiefdoms in the Age of Columbus, 86.

[29] Ibid., 91.

[30] E.W. Stone, “The Conquest of Española as a “Structure of Conjuncture,”’ 371.

[31] Gilbert R. Valmé, Atabey, Yucayequey, Caney : 6000 ans d'amenagement territorial prehispanique sur l'ile d'Ayiti / Haiti/ Republique Dominicaine, 15, 181.

[32] Bernardo Vega, Los Cacicazgos de la Hispaniola, 57.

[33] Roberto Cassá, Los Tainos de la Española, 222.

[34] Kathleen Deagan, En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus, 34.

[35] Jean Fouchard, Langue et littérature des aborigènes d'Ayti, 91.

[36] Ibid., 92.

[37] William F. Keegan, Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King, 35, 45.

[38] Ibid., 46-47.

[39] Behique Dunama, “Caonao (Cahonao).”

[40] William F. Keegan, Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King, 182.

[41] Joanna Ostapkowicz, Taino wooden sculpture: rulership and the visual arts in the 12–16th century Caribbean, 518.

[42] Joanna Ostapkowicz, Anacaona’s Gift: Cotton and the woven arts of the 11th to 17th century Caribbean, 187-189.