The Conquest Of Espanola - 1

The Conquest Of Espanola - 1

We must now go back to the time when Columbus, having made what arrangements he
could for the safety of Espanola, left it under the charge of his brother James. Ojeda had
duly marched into the interior and taken over the command of Fort St. Thomas, thus
setting free Margarite, according to his instructions, to lead an expedition for purposes of
reconnoitre and demonstration through the island. These, at any rate, were Margarite's
orders, duly communicated to him by Ojeda; but Margarite will have none of them. Well
born, well educated, well bred, he ought at least to have the spirit to carry out orders so
agreeable to a gentleman of adventure; but unfortunately, although Margarite is a
gentleman by birth, he is a low and dishonest dog by nature. He cannot take the decent
course, cannot even play the man, and take his share in the military work of the colony.
Instead of cutting paths through the forest, and exhibiting his military strength in an
orderly and proper way as the Admiral intended he should, he marches forth from St.
Thomas, on hearing that Columbus has sailed away, and encamps no further off than the
Vega Real, that pleasant place of green valleys and groves and murmuring rivers. He
encamps there, takes up his quarters there, will not budge from there for any Admiral;
and as for James Columbus and his counsellors, they may go to the devil for all Margarite
cares. One of them at least, he knows—Friar Buil—is not such a fool as to sit down under
the command of that solemn-faced, uncouth young snip from Genoa; and doubtless when
he is tired of the Vega Real he and Buil can arrange something between them. In the
meantime, here is a very beautiful sunshiny place, abounding in all kinds of provisions;
food for more than one kind of appetite, as he has noticed when he has thrust his rude
way into the native houses and seen the shapely daughters of the islanders. He has a little
army of soldiers to forage for him; they can get him food and gold, and they are useful
also in those other marauding expeditions designed to replenish the seraglio that he has
established in his camp; and if they like to do a little marauding and woman-stealing on
their own account, it is no affair of his, and may keep the devils in a good temper. Thus
Don Pedro Margarite to himself.
The peaceable and gentle natives soon began to resent these gross doings. To robbery
succeeded outrage, and to outrage murder—all three committed in the very houses of the
natives; and they began to murmur, to withhold that goodwill which the Spaniards had so
sorely tried, and to develop a threatening attitude that was soon communicated to the
natives in the vicinity of Isabella, and came under the notice of James Columbus and his
council. Grave, bookish, wool-weaving young James, not used to military affairs, and not
at all comfortable in his command, can think of no other expedient than—to write a letter
to Margarite remonstrating with him for his licentious excesses and reminding him of the
Admiral's instructions, which were being neglected.
Margarite receives the letter and reads it with a contemptuous laugh. He is not going to
be ordered about by a family of Italian wool-weavers, and the only change in his conduct
is that he becomes more and more careless and impudent, extending the area of his
lawless operations, and making frequent visits to Isabella itself, swaggering under the
very nose of solemn James, and soon deep in consultation with Friar Buil.
At this moment, that is to say very soon after the departure of Christopher on his voyage
to Cuba and Jamaica, three ships dropped anchor in the Bay of Isabella. They were laden
with the much-needed supplies from Spain, and had been sent out under the command of
Bartholomew Columbus. It will be remembered that when Christopher reached Spain
after his first voyage one of his first cares had been to write to Bartholomew, asking him
to join him. The letter, doubtless after many wanderings, had found Bartholomew in
France at the court of Charles VIII., by whom he was held in some esteem; in fact it was
Charles who provided him with the necessary money for his journey to Spain, for
Bartholomew had not greatly prospered, in spite of his voyage with Diaz to the Cape of
Good Hope and of his having been in England making exploration proposals at the court
of Henry VII. He had arrived in Spain after Columbus had sailed again, and had
presented himself at court with his two nephews, Ferdinand and Diego, both of whom
were now in the service of Prince Juan as pages. Ferdinand and Isabella seem to have
received Bartholomew kindly. They liked this capable navigator, who had much of
Christopher's charm of manner, and was more a man of the world than he. Much more
practical also; Ferdinand would be sure to like him better than he liked Christopher,
whose pompous manner and long-winded speeches bored him. Bartholomew was quick,
alert, decisive and practical; he was an accomplished navigator—almost as accomplished
as Columbus, as it appeared. He was offered the command of the three ships which were
being prepared to go to Espanola with supplies; and he duly arrived there after a
prosperous voyage. It will be remembered that Christopher had, so far as we know, kept
the secret of the road to the new islands; and Bartholomew can have had nothing more to
guide him than a rough chart showing the islands in a certain latitude, and the distance to
be run towards them by dead-reckoning. That he should have made an exact landfall and
sailed into the Bay of Isabella, never having been there before, was a certificate of the
highest skill in navigation.
Unfortunately it was James who was in charge of the colony; Bartholomew had no
authority, for once his ships had arrived in port his mission was accomplished until
Christopher should return and find him employment. He was therefore forced to sit still
and watch his young brother struggling with the unruly Spaniards. His presence,
however, was no doubt a further exasperation to the malcontents. There existed in
Isabella a little faction of some of the aristocrats who had never, forgiven Columbus for
employing them in degrading manual labour; who had never forgiven him in fact for
being there at all, and in command over them. And now here was another woolweaver, or
son of a wool-weaver, come to put his finger in the pie that Christopher has apparently
provided so carefully for himself and his family.
Margarite and Buil and some others, treacherous scoundrels all of them, but clannish to
their own race and class, decide that they will put up with it no longer; they are tired of
Espanola in any case, and Margarite, from too free indulgence among the native women,
has contracted an unpleasant disease, and thinks that a sea voyage and the attentions of a
Spanish doctor will be good for him. It is easy for them to put their plot into execution.
There are the ships; there is nothing, for them to do but take a couple of them, provision
them, and set sail for Spain, where they trust to their own influence, and the story they
will be able to tell of the falseness of the Admiral's promises, to excuse their breach of
discipline. And sail they do, snapping their fingers at the wool-weavers.
James and Bartholomew were perhaps glad to be rid of them, but their relief was
tempered with anxiety as to the result on Christopher's reputation and favour when the
malcontents should have made their false representations at Court. The brothers were
powerless to do anything in that matter, however, and the state of affairs in Espanola
demanded their close attention. Margarite's little army, finding itself without even the
uncertain restraint of its commander, now openly mutinied and abandoned itself to the
wildest excesses. It became scattered and disbanded, and little groups of soldiers went
wandering about the country, robbing and outraging and carrying cruelty and oppression
among the natives. Long-suffering as these were, and patiently as they bore with the
unspeakable barbarities of the Spanish soldiers, there came a point beyond which their
forbearance would not go. An aching spirit of unforgiveness and revenge took the place
of their former gentleness and compliance; and here and there, when the Spaniards were
more brutal and less cautious than was their brutal and incautious habit, the natives fell
upon them and took swift and bloody revenge. Small parties found themselves besieged
and put to death whole villages, whose hospitality had been abused, cut off wandering
groups of the marauders and burned the houses where they lodged. The disaffection
spread; and Caonabo, who had never abated his resentment at the Spanish intrusion into
the island, thought the time had come to make another demonstration of native power.
Fortunately for the Spaniards his object was the fort of St. Thomas, commanded by the
alert Ojeda; and this young man, who was not easily to be caught napping, had timely
intelligence of his intention. When Caonabo, mustering ten thousand men, suddenly
surrounded the fort and prepared to attack it, he found the fifty Spaniards of the garrison
more than ready for him, and his naked savages dared not advance within the range of the
crossbows and arquebuses. Caonabo tried to besiege the station, watching every gorge
and road through which supplies could reach it, but Ojeda made sallies and raids upon the
native force, under which it became thinned and discouraged; and Caonabo had finally to
withdraw to his own territory.
But he was not yet beaten. He decided upon another and much larger enterprise, which
was to induce the other caciques of the island to co-operate with him in an attack upon
Isabella, the population of which he knew would have been much thinned and weakened
by disease. The island was divided into five native provinces. The northeastern part,
named Marien, was under the rule of Guacanagari, whose headquarters were near the
abandoned La Navidad. The remaining eastern part of the island, called Higuay, was
under a chief named Cotabanama. The western province was Xaragua, governed by one
Behechio, whose sister, Anacaona, was the wife of Caonabo. The middle of the island
was divided into two provinces-that which extended from the northern coast to the Cibao
mountains and included the Vega Real being governed by Guarionex, and that which
extended from the Cibao mountains to the south being governed by Caonabo. All these
rulers were more or less embittered by the outrages and cruelties of the Spaniards, and all
agreed to join with Caonabo except Guacanagari. That loyal soul, so faithful to what he
knew of good, shocked and distressed as he was by outrages from which his own people
had suffered no less than the others, could not bring himself to commit what he regarded
as a breach of the laws of hospitality. It was upon his shores that Columbus had first
landed; and although it was his own country and his own people whose wrongs were to
be avenged, he could not bring himself to turn traitor to the grave Admiral with whom, in
those happy days of the past, he had enjoyed so much pleasant intercourse. His refusal to
co-operate delayed the plan of Caonabo, who directed the island coalition against
Guacanagari himself in order to bring him to reason. He was attacked by the
neighbouring chiefs; one of his wives was killed and another captured; but still he would
not swerve from his ideal of conduct.