I assured him that it was for their salvation that we had taken those people, that we had done all we could not to separate families, and that if any Christians had raped the women of this country, it was without my consent and they would be punished. I do not know how these words were translated by my spokesman or understood by Béhéchio, but his response was to order the seizure of all the Christians he had already captured – the men from the Nina and those from my ship who were not with me – and to tie them up in the presence of all the others. And in the middle of the village square, in front of everybody, he had them tied to posts that had been planted there for this purpose, and their ears were cut off.
I watched, helplessly, as this cruel torture was accomplished, because the Indians were too numerous and too well armed for us to attempt any sort of rescue without certainly being massacred.
Finally, Béhéchio signalled that we should go away – myself and the group of men with whom I had arrived. I replied frankly that we would never leave fellow Christians in such a terrible situation, in the hands of heathens who understood nothing of salvation or the Holy Trinity. He allowed us to untie our unfortunate brothers, but when we tried to retake possession of our boats, his guards barred the way to the sea and to the caravel on the beach. He told me, using signs, that to return to the sky from whence we had come, we had no need of a ship.
We had no choice but to walk into the forest with our wounded, having been deprived of our horses.
There are thirty-nine of us.
Sunday 16 December
The Lord, who is wisdom and mercy incarnate, has sent us this trial but He has not forsaken us.
After wandering through the forest for a long time, we found other villages, almost all of them deserted by the Indians who are cowards and who face us only out of fear. For our salvation, they had left behind a quantity of food, as well as roundhouses where we can tend to our wounded.
Vicente Yáñez, captain of the Nina, is suffering terribly from the severance of his ears, as are all the other mutilated men. Their wounds are turning black and some of them have died.
They learned that Béhéchio came from the same country as Cahonaboa, and that he was summoned here by the inhabitants of this place in order to expel us. I do not know why they hate us because we have done them no wrong and I have always taken care that they were not ill-treated.
The Indians who stole the boats from us took possession of the ship with a surprise attack, killing or imprisoning all the members of the crew. The four men I sent to warn the crew never arrived. The men of the ship who survived the attack swore to me that the Indians who defeated them were very well armed.
Seeing this, the captain of the Nina, encircled by a fleet of canoas and fearing that his ship would be boarded, had attempted to escape, finding refuge in the port where the cacique had afterward taken us, but there he had been betrayed by the villagers. Who could have suspected such trickery from people who go naked?
I now ordered the careful construction of a tower, a fortress and a deep ditch. Vicente Yáñez and certain others are reduced to self-pity, complaining that we will never see Spain again. However, if we can gather our strength and recover our weapons, I believe very strongly that with the men who are left to me and the reinforcements of Martín Alonso Pinzón – when he deigns to remember the obedience he owes me and returns from his adventure – I will be able to subdue this entire island, which is, I believe, larger than Portugal and with twice as many people, but all of them naked and incurably faint-hearted, with the exception of Béhéchio’s army. That is why I have it in mind to capture Béhéchio using cunning, in order to retrieve our ships, our weapons and our provisions.
In the meantime, it is good that this tower should be built and that it should be as solid as a fort because, for now, we have only swords, a few arquebuses and a small amount of powder.
Tuesday 25 December, Christmas Day
A terrible calamity has occurred.
The ship was still anchored in the port of the village where our unfortunate companions were tortured. This morning, one of the men I sent hunting in order to ensure we have enough to eat, came to me in a state of panic to inform me that he had seen, from a distance, the ship sailing away. The news had a devastating effect on my men, who were living in hope of recovering that vessel, as well as the other one, which is on the beach, in order to return to Castile.
Perhaps the three men I had left on board during our meeting with King Béhéchio had freed themselves and seized the ship. Or perhaps the Indians wanted to try navigating it themselves.
To clear up the matter, we climbed up a rocky headland high enough to offer a clear view of the port.
It was true: the ship was sailing and seemed to be trying to leave the cove, but it was drifting dangerously towards a rocky bank. Whomever it was in command of the vessel, it was clear that he could not steer correctly.
The ship moved inexorably towards the rocks. Dismayed by this terrible sight, we all cried out in fright. When, at last, it crashed into the rocks and we heard the crack of bursting seams, the same fearful moan escaped our chests.
Now the ship had run aground, we would only have two caravels to sail home even if Martín Pinzón returned with the Pinta: not enough to bring all of us back to Spain.
Our Lord has sent me a terrible trial on this blessed day. I must not doubt His designs, however, and knowing for certain that nobody serves Him more zealously than I, He will not forsake me.
Wednesday 26 December
Mad with pain and rage at the loss of the ship, my men ran to the rocks where it had foundered, and there was nothing I could do or say to contain their fury. Finding nobody around the wreck, they went into the storeroom and took out as much gunpowder and wine as they could carry. Then, even angrier at the desolate spectacle of the smashed ship, they went to the beach where the caravel was, determined to fight. But Béhéchio’s army was no longer there; so, abandoning themselves to their passion, they massacred all the villagers, down to the last one, men, women, children, with cries of ‘Santiago! Santiago!’, then they pillaged and burned the village. This was a reprehensible act, but in their defence I would say that the sight of that place brought back vivid memories of the torture they had suffered there.
Having sated their fury, they took as many things as they could from the Nina’s stores, but they did not attempt to make the caravel seaworthy again since this would have taken much time and work, and they feared the return of Béhéchio. The weapons they recovered, and particularly the barrels of wine, were greeted with cheers. On the other hand, we still have no horses.
That evening, we organised a banquet to celebrate the victory, because it was one: our situation, which seemed one of utter despair yesterday after the loss of the ship, has now steadied a little, thanks be to God.
Monday 31 December
Six of my men, who had left to search for supplies of wood and water, were caught in an ambush and all perished. An Indian on horseback rode to the entrance of the fort to leave baskets containing the heads of those unfortunate Christians.
I ordered the strengthening of our defences, because I feel certain that Béhéchio will come to us.
Tuesday 1 January 1493
Three men who went out to fetch rhubarb, which I planned to bring back to Your Highnesses, were attacked by horsemen. It is a miracle that one of them was able to escape and to hide in the mountains, where the horses could not follow.
My men are nervous because they think it inevitable that Béhéchio will come, as do I.
Wednesday 2 January
Nobody now dares leave the fort, out of fear of being ambushed and devoured, for my men have got it into their heads that the Indians eat human flesh. It is true that they are extremely cruel when they have defeated their enemies, and they cut the legs off women and even children.
I am vigilant, day and night, to the point that I cannot sleep. During the last month, I have slept no more than five hours, and in the last w
eek I have slept only as long as three hourglasses, lasting thirty minutes apiece, so that I am half-blind and, at certain hours of the day, completely blind.
Thankfully we have seeds and animals that are well accustomed to the earth of this country. All the plants in the vegetable garden are thriving, and there are even certain vegetables that will give two harvests if they are sown, which is also true for all the fruit, whether wild or cultivated: so favourable is the aspect of the sky and the quality of the earth. Our cattle and poultry are multiplying to a wondrous degree, and it is wondrous too to see how quickly the chickens grow: they hatch chicks every two months, and within ten or twelve days the new chickens are good to eat. As for pigs, from the thirteen sows that I brought here, many are roaming the woods, mixing with the wild pigs, but sadly we cannot profit from them because of the Indians who are prowling outside.
Our last spokesman fled.
Thursday 3 January
The siege has begun. This morning, Béhéchio appeared with his army, riding his gold-caparisoned horse.
This Indian’s manner of being is such that everyone can see he conducts himself like a true warrior, and that his troops are ordered in the same way – and with just as much skill – as if this were happening in Castile or in France.
Friday 4 January
We have enough water and food to withstand a siege, but my men know that the fortress is not sufficiently robust to withstand an attack.
May God, in His great mercy, have pity on us.
Saturday 5 January
From atop the tower, we can observe the movements of Béhéchio’s troops. Watching his cavalry and his regiments of infantrymen in battle order, we cannot doubt that the attack must be imminent.
But God, who has never forsaken us, sent us a miracle in the form of Martín Alonso Pinzón, because from the top of that same tower, my men saw the Pinta appear on the horizon.
This miraculous apparition gave us an extraordinary surge of strength and morale. We will attempt a sortie tomorrow, at first light, and with the aid of God we will reach the coast to join Martín Pinzón and the Pinta, or we will die fighting.
Nothing remains for me now but to recommend our souls to eternal God, Our Lord, who grants success to those who follow His path in spite of apparent obstacles.
Sunday 6 January
In the morning, we went out in tight ranks, the arquebusiers and crossbowmen in front, the wounded at the back, with our only artillery being a falconet cannon that my men had taken from the ship. We had only thirty uninjured men, but we were determined to fight until our last breath.
Outside, more than a thousand Indians were waiting for us, the cavalry in the vanguard, infantrymen behind and on the flanks, all carrying arrows, which they fired from their catapults much faster than they could have done from bows. All of them were smeared in black and painted in different colours, holding flutes, with masks and mirrors in copper and gold on their heads, and as is their custom, they gave the most terrible war cries at regular intervals. Béhéchio, on his golden horse, had set up his camp on a large hillock two crossbow shots away, and he directed his armies from there.
Some of our number had the task of waiting for the horses in open country and grabbing the horsemen’s legs, since they rode without saddles or stirrups, but this was a highly perilous action and even though they did manage to put their idea into practice, almost all were killed.
Nevertheless, our arquebuses scythed down part of their cavalry and our falconet enabled us to open a gap in their ranks. We lost men, shot by their arrows and crushed by their horses, but we killed a large number of heathens, and although this wasn’t the first occasion we had used our firearms on this island, the thunderous noise produced by the cannon and the arquebuses sowed confusion in the enemy, offering us a crucial respite to hurtle down the path that led to the coast (because we had built our fort on high ground).
We arrived at the beach where the Pinta was anchored, more dead than alive but running so hard that we could barely breathe, driven forward by the enemy’s howls as if by the flames of hell, and we were already up to our knees in water, ready to swim the last few feet that separated us from our salvation – or so we believed at the time – when we saw, on the deck of the Pinta, standing beside Martín Alonso Pinzón, who was immobile as a statue and pale as a ghost, a man with a crown on his head decorated with parrot feathers and gold plates, his face hidden by a sculpted wooden mask, the eyes, nostrils and mouth edged with gold, his tall figure and stately bearing leaving us in no doubt about his identity and robbing us of all hope: it was Cahonaboa, king of Cipango.
I have said that Béhéchio was imposing and that we had immediately guessed his royal quality from his noble air, full of a superiority that contained no arrogance, but that was as nothing in comparison to our new arrival, whom Béhéchio himself saluted with the most abject deference, kneeling and kissing the ground.
Cahonaboa was accompanied by his wife, the Queen Anacaona, Béhéchio’s sister, whose beauty and grace have no equal among the many beautiful Indian women.
As for us, poor Christians, we were disarmed and imprisoned, and our wounded were killed.
Out of respect for our ranks of captain and admiral, Martín Alonso and I were separated from our men and invited into the king’s tent. Vicente Yáñez, captain of the Nina and brother of Martín Alonso, would have joined us had he survived the battle.
Cahonaboa, just like Béhéchio, reproached us for having abducted Indians and raped women, which they consider here to be a great crime. As admiral and leader of this expedition I was held responsible for offences committed by Martín Alonso and other mutineers, even though I had always ordered my men not to ill-treat the natives. The truth was that I had never done them any harm and had not employed cruelty towards anyone.
Whatever the Creator of all things has in store for His humble servant, I will no longer suffer the insults of malicious people of little virtue who insolently seek to impose their will against the man who gave them so much honour.
As soon as Martín Alonso and his men had reached the island next to Juana (the name that I gave to the island of Cuba, and which must be Cipango), they abducted by force four Indian adults and two young girls, hoping that they would provide information on where to find gold, but were immediately attacked by Cahonaboa’s army, which was so powerful that the Christians were promptly defeated and most of them killed where they stood. So it is that God punishes hubris and folly. Nevertheless, Martín Alonso and six of his men were spared, out of the twenty-five who comprised his crew.
Of the seventy-seven Christians who departed Palos, only twelve souls remain, like the twelve apostles, and Martín Alonso.
Wednesday 9 January
For three days now, the Indians have been dancing to the sound of flutes, tambourines and singing. These festivities seem endless, while we Christians are plunged in the most profound desolation, since none can doubt that it is our defeat that the Indians are celebrating. One spectacle in particular has reopened our wounds. To entertain the royal couple, Béhéchio wished to offer a reconstruction of the battle during which our men from the fortress were defeated. To recreate this scene, the old cacique stripped us of our clothes and put them on some Indians who were to play our role, leaving us as naked as the people of this island. We also had to teach them how to fire the arquebus, and although the noise still frightened them a little, they were delighted by the thunder that they could unleash with our weapons. Horsemen were deployed around the Indians dressed as Christians, and while those men mimed terror and shot into the air, the Indians on horseback executed the most graceful arabesques. Then the men playing Christians dispersed in a disorderly retreat while the horsemen pursued them and pretended to cut them down.
Our only comfort comes from Queen Anacaona, who recites and sings poems, and even though the meaning escapes us almost completely, there is not a single Christian who is not bewitched by her beauty and her voice. Cahonaboa’s wife is Béhéchio�
��s sister, as I have said, and seems to be the subject of an extraordinary veneration by the Indians, not only because of her royal blood and her beauty, but also for her talents as a poet, which are admired by all.
Her husband the king watches all these festivities with evident pleasure, but never is his delight so keen as when Anacaona occupies the stage.
Hoping to benefit from his happy disposition, we begged him to give us back our clothing or give us death, but he refused both of those demands.
Thursday 10 January
King Cahonaboa desires to know more about the country whence the Christians came, which is why he wished to meet with me, in the presence of Queen Anacaona and the cacique Béhéchio. My words were translated by a spokesman that they had taken from Martín Alonso. The king received me wearing a shirt, a belt, a hood and a toque belonging to me, while I was naked.
So it was that I was able to tell them about Your Serene Highnesses, rulers of the greatest kingdom on earth, and also about the one true religion and the one true God, Our Lord who is in Heaven. I sought to explain to them the mysteries of the Holy Trinity, and I could tell that the queen and her brother were listening to me with great interest.
I swore to them that there is no greater honour upon this earth than to serve monarchs such as Your Highnesses, that baptism would safeguard them from hell after their earthly existence is over, and that only the true faith will reward them with eternal life.
I suggested they come with us to Castile so they could throw themselves at the feet of Your Highnesses, and I promised that they would be received with all the respect due to their rank. Cahonaboa seemed interested, above all, in our forts, our ships and our weapons, but I saw that my words had touched his beautiful wife.
Friday 11 January
Cahonaboa has departed with his army, leaving behind his wife and her brother to watch over us and the region. This is very good news, as I think they are more likely to be persuaded to free us and to be converted.
Martín Alonso does not share my opinion. He wishes to attempt an escape with our men so that we may leave on the Pinta, which is still anchored in the cove.
Civilizations Page 4
