Alonso De Ojeda And The Carib Cacique
Of the three ships with which Columbus made his first voyage, the "Pinta"
deserted the others and went off on a voyage of discovery of its own, and
the "Santa Maria," the flag-ship of the admiral, ran ashore on the coast
of Hispaniola and proved a hopeless wreck. Only the little "Nina" (the
"girl," as this word means in English) was left to carry the discoverer
home. The "Santa Maria" was carefully taken to pieces, and from her
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timbers was constructed a small but strong fort, with a deep vault beneath
and a ditch surrounding. Friendly Indians aided in this, and not a shred
of the stranded vessel was left to the waves. As the "Nina" was too small
to carry all his crew back to Spain, Columbus decided to leave a garrison
to hold this fort and search for gold until he should return. That the
island held plenty of gold he felt sure. So Captain Ardua was left, with a
garrison of forty men, and the "Nina" spread her sails to the winds to
carry to Spain the wonderful news of the great discovery.
La Navidad, or The Nativity, he named the fort, in remembrance of the day
of the wreck, and when he came back in 1493 he hopefully expected to find
its garrison awaiting him, with a rich treasure in the precious yellow
metal. He reached the spot to find the fort a ruin and the garrison a
remembrance only. They had been attacked by the Indians and massacred
during the absence of the admiral.
In fact, the mild, gentle, and friendly Indians whom Columbus had met with
on his first voyage were not the only people of the islands. There were on
some of the West Indies a warlike race called Caribs,--cannibals, the
Spaniards said they were,--who gave the invaders no small trouble before
they were overcome.
It was a band of these fierce Caribs that had attacked La Navidad and
destroyed the fort and its garrison, impelled to this, likely enough, by
some of the ruthless acts which the Spaniards were much too ready to
commit. The leader of these warriors was a bold cacique named Caonabo,
chief of a warlike mountain tribe. It is with this chieftain that we are
at present concerned, as he was the hero, or victim rather, of the first
romantic story known to us in Indian life.
In addition to the forts built by the Spaniards on the coast of
Hispaniola, there was one built far in the interior, called Fort Santo
Tomas. This stood in the mountainous region of Cibao, the reputed land of
gold of the island. Its site lay within the territory of Caonabo, who
ruled over a great district, his capital town or village being on the
southern slope of the Cibao Mountains.
The first conflict between the Spaniards and the natives, after the
massacre of the garrison of La Navidad, was in the district of the Vega,
where a fierce fight took place in the spring of 1495, the natives
suffering a severe defeat. The next was at Fort Santo Tomas, which was
commanded by Alonso de Ojeda, a young man who had come out with Columbus
in his second voyage. He was a man of great courage and unusual daring,
one of the chief among those dauntless spirits who had to do with the
conquest of the New World.
A man of his spirit was needed to command this isolated fort in the
mountains, for the cacique, Caonabo, was not pleased with this invasion of
his territory, and soon marched upon the fort with a strong force of his
warlike race. Santo Tomas was closely invested and fiercely attacked,
Ojeda being reduced to such an extremity that he owed his escape only to a
rescuing force sent by Columbus from Fort Isabella, on the coast. Driven
off by the superior arms of his foes, Caonabo withdrew sullenly to his
stronghold in the mountains. But he was quickly back again, with a larger
force than before. He had never met his equal among the Indians, but the
fire-spouting tubes of the Spaniards proved too much even for his courage,
and he was a second time forced to withdraw.
It was evident, however, that Ojeda was perilously situated, surrounded as
he was by warlike enemies, led by so bold and persistent a chief. In the
face of this peril he adopted an expedient as daring as any of those shown
by Cortez, Pizarro, or any other of the Spanish caballeros of that age of
conquest, and one whose ingenuity equalled its daring. It is this striking
adventure which it is our purpose to describe.
Choosing from his men a few of the bravest and most trusty, Ojeda set out
on horseback over the mountains, following paths never before traversed by
the Spaniards, until they came to the Carib town of Maguana, where he
found Caonabo surrounded by a throng of armed warriors. The Spaniards had
bearded the lion in his den, and were in a position of extreme peril
should the cacique prove hostile. But Ojeda was a past-master in
craftiness, and by professions of friendship and other arts of duplicity
he persuaded the chief to accompany him alone into the edge of the forest.
He now took from his pocket a pair of handcuffs, bright and shining
manacles of which the untutored Indian had no conception of the use, but
whose brightness attracted him. Ojeda told him they were bracelets, which
the King of Spain had graciously sent him as a present, in recognition of
his fame as a warrior of skill and courage. The poor Indian probably
understood all this very imperfectly, but he was easily brought to view
the manacles as Turey or a gift from Heaven, and willingly held out his
wrists that his guest might adorn them with those strange and splendid
bracelets.
In a moment his hands were secured, and before he could recover from his
surprise Ojeda, whose small frame concealed much strength, reached from
his saddle, seized the astonished chief, and by a great exertion of
muscular force lifted him from the ground and swung him up on the horse.
The warriors, who beheld this act with sudden suspicion, had no time to
use their weapons before the Spaniards had put spur to their horses and
dashed off into the forest. Two of them rode on each side of Ojeda, to
prevent the captive throwing himself from the horse. Threatened by their
swords and with his hands clasped in those fatal bracelets, Caonabo was
forced to submit, and was carried by his captors for many miles through
the heart of his own country to Fort Isabella, a stronghold which Columbus
had built at a site on the sea-coast, fronting a bay in which all his
vessels could ride in safety. Here the bold Ojeda, as the culmination of
his daring enterprise, delivered his captive to Columbus, and he was
locked up in a secure cell.
As the story goes, the brave cacique had a greater admiration for courage
than anything else in the world, and instead of hating Ojeda for the
crafty way in which he had been captured, he seemed to hold him in high
esteem as the bravest of the Spaniards. Whenever Ojeda appeared in his
cell he would rise and courteously salute him, while he treated the visits
of Columbus with haughty disregard. So far as the captive cacique could
make himself understood, the high rank of Columbus was nought to him. He
had no proof that he was a man of courage, while the manner in which Ojeda
had captured him showed him to be a brave man. To the bold Carib courage
was the first of virtues and the only one worthy of respect.
The poor Indian suffered the fate of most of his countrymen who had to do
with the Spanish invaders. Put on board ship and sent as a prize of valor
to Spain, the unfortunate chief died on the voyage, perhaps from a broken
heart, or as a result of the change from his free forest life to the
narrow confines of a fifteenth-century ship.
The life of Ojeda after that date was one full of adventure, in which he
distinguished himself as much by rashness as by valor. In 1499 he was put
in command of an exploring expedition and sent out from Spain, one of his
companions being Amerigo Vespucci, he whose first name gained the
immemorial honor of being given to the great western continent. In this
voyage Ojeda discovered part of the continent of South America, which he
called Venezuela, or Little Venice, a name suggested by an Indian village
built on piles in the water. Eight years later Ojeda sought to plant a
colony in New Andalusia, but the natives there proved too bold and hostile
for him, and he failed to subject them to his authority.
Many were his adventures, all of them characterized by a rash daring like
that he had shown in the capture of Caonabo. When at length he died, he
was buried, in response to his own request, in the doorway of the
Franciscan monastery in the city of Santo Domingo, so that all who entered
that place of worship should walk over his grave.