Deminán's Journey: Exploring the Indigenous Caribbean...one island at a time
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 16th
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.
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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 20th 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 19th 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.
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.
[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.
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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 20th 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.
[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.