Disasters of the Settlement.
[1503.]
It was hoped by Columbus that the vigorous measure of the Adelantado would
strike terror into the Indians of the neighborhood, and prevent any
further designs upon the settlement. Quibian had probably perished. If he
survived, he must be disheartened by the captivity of his family, and
several of his principal subjects, and fearful of their being made
responsible for any act of violence on his part. The heavy rains,
therefore, which fall so frequently among the mountains of this isthmus,
having again swelled the river, Columbus made his final arrangements for
the management of the colony, and having given much wholesome counsel to
the Spaniards who were to remain, and taken an affectionate leave of his
brother, got under weigh with three of the caravels, leaving the fourth
for the use of the settlement. As the water was still shallow at the bar,
the ships were lightened of a great part of their cargoes, and towed out
by the boats in calm weather, grounding repeatedly. When fairly released
from the river, and their cargoes re-shipped, they anchored within a
league of the shore, to await a favorable wind. It was the intention of
the admiral to touch at Hispaniola, on his way to Spain, and send thence
supplies and reinforcements. The wind continuing adverse, he sent a boat
on shore on the 6th of April, under the command of Diego Tristan, captain
of one of the caravels, to procure wood and water, and make some
communications to the Adelantado. The expedition of this boat proved fatal
to its crew, but was providential to the settlement.
The cacique Quibian had not perished as some had supposed. Though both
hands and feet were bound, yet in the water he was as in his natural
element. Plunging to the bottom, he swam below the surface until
sufficiently distant to be out of view in the darkness of the night, and
then emerging made his way to shore. The desolation of his home, and the
capture of his wives and children, filled him with anguish; but when he
saw the vessels in which they were confined leaving the river, and bearing
them off, he was transported with fury and despair. Determined on a signal
vengeance, he assembled a great number of his warriors, and came secretly
upon the settlement. The thick woods by which it was surrounded enabled
the Indians to approach unseen within ten paces. The Spaniards, thinking
the enemy completely discomfited and dispersed, were perfectly off their
guard. Some had strayed to the sea-shore, to take a farewell look at the
ships; some were on board of the caravel in the river; others were
scattered about the houses: on a sudden, the Indians rushed from their
concealment with yells and howlings, launched their javelins through the
roofs of palm-leaves, hurled them in at the windows, or thrust them
through the crevices of the logs which composed the walls. As the houses
were small, several of the inhabitants were wounded. On the first alarm,
the Adelantado seized a lance, and sallied forth with seven or eight of
his men. He was joined by Diego Mendez and several of his companions, and
they drove the enemy into the forest, killing and wounding several of
them. The Indians kept up a brisk fire of darts and arrows from among the
trees, and made furious sallies with their war-clubs; but there was no
withstanding the keen edge of the Spanish weapons, and a fierce blood-hound
being let loose upon them, completed their terror. They fled howling
through the forest, leaving a number dead on the field, having killed one
Spaniard, and wounded eight. Among the latter was the Adelantado, who
received a slight thrust of a javelin in the breast.
Diego Tristan arrived in his boat during the contest, but feared to
approach the land, lest the Spaniards should rush on board in such numbers
as to sink him. When the Indians had been put to flight, he proceeded up
the river in quest of fresh water, disregarding the warnings of those on
shore, that he might be cut off by the enemy in their canoes.
The river was deep and narrow, shut in by high banks, and overhanging
trees. The forests on each side were thick and impenetrable; so that there
was no landing-place, excepting here and there where a footpath wound down
to some fishing-ground, or some place where the natives kept their canoes.
The boat had ascended about a league above the village, to a part of the
river where it was completely overshadowed by lofty banks and spreading
trees. Suddenly, yells and war-whoops and blasts of conch shells rose on
every side. Light canoes darted forth in every direction from dark
hollows, and overhanging thickets, each dextrously managed by a single
savage, while others stood up brandishing and hurling their lances.
Missiles were launched also from the banks of the river, and the branches
of the trees. There were eight sailors in the boat, and three soldiers.
Galled and wounded by darts and arrows, confounded by the yells and blasts
of conchs, and the assaults which thickened from every side, they lost all
presence of mind, neglected to use either oars or fire-arms, and only
sought to shelter themselves with their bucklers. Diego Tristan had
received several wounds; but still displayed great intrepidity, and was
endeavoring to animate his men, when a javelin pierced his right eye; and
struck him dead. The canoes now closed upon the boat, and a general
massacre ensued. But one Spaniard escaped, Juan de Noya, a cooper of
Seville. Having fallen overboard in the midst of the action, he dived to
the bottom, swam under water, gained the bank of the river unperceived,
and made his way down to the settlement, bringing tidings of the massacre
of his captain and comrades.
The Spaniards were completely dismayed, were few in number, several of
them were wounded, and they were in the midst of tribes of exasperated
savages, far more fierce and warlike than those to whom they had been
accustomed. The admiral, being ignorant of their misfortunes, would sail
away without yielding them assistance, and they would be left to sink
beneath the overwhelming force of barbarous foes, or to perish with hunger
on this inhospitable coast. In their despair they determined to take the
caravel which had been left with them, and abandon the place altogether.
The Adelantado remonstrated with them in vain; nothing would content them
but to put to sea immediately. Here a new alarm awaited them. The torrents
having subsided, the river was again shallow, and it was impossible for
the caravel to pass over the bar. They now took the boat of the caravel,
to bear tidings of their danger to the admiral, and implore him not to
abandon them; but the wind was boisterous, a high sea was rolling, and a
heavy surf, tumbling and breaking at the mouth of the river, prevented the
boat from getting out. Horrors increased upon them. The mangled bodies of
Diego Tristan and his men came floating down the stream, and drifting
about the harbor, with flights of crows, and other carrion birds, feeding
on them, and hovering, and screaming, and fighting about their prey. The
forlorn Spaniards contemplated this scene with shuddering; it appeared
ominous of their own fate.
In the meantime the Indians, elated by their triumph over the crew of the
boat, renewed their hostilities. Whoops and yells answered each other from
various parts of the neighborhood. The dismal sound of conchs and
war-drums in the deep bosom of the woods showed that the number of the
enemy was continually augmenting. They would rush forth occasionally upon
straggling parties of Spaniards, and make partial attacks upon the houses.
It was considered no longer safe to remain in the settlement, the close
forest which surrounded it being a covert for the approaches of the enemy.
The Adelantado chose, therefore, an open place on the shore at some
distance from the wood. Here he caused a kind of bulwark to be made of the
boat of the caravel, and of chests, casks, and similar articles. Two
places were left open as embrasures, in which were placed a couple of
falconets, or small pieces of artillery, in such a manner as to command
the neighborhood. In this little fortress the Spaniards shut themselves
up; its walls were sufficient to screen them from the darts and arrows of
the Indians, but mostly they depended upon their firearms, the sound of
which struck dismay into the savages, especially when they saw the effect
of the balls, splintering and rending the trees around them, and carrying
havoc to such a distance. The Indians were thus kept in check for the
present, and deterred from venturing from the forest; but the Spaniards,
exhausted by constant watching and incessant alarms, anticipated all kinds
of evil when their ammunition should be exhausted, or they should be
driven forth by hunger to seek for food. [167]