The Cacicazgo of Guahaba?

  

Aubourg's map showing the placement of a village in Guahaba at the site of Lacorne.

Although often overlooked in colonial accounts, Guahaba was a major Taíno cacicazgo in northwestern Hispaniola, whose political importance and population size have been underestimated due to Spanish violence, depopulation, and incomplete documentation. Known as the land from which Hatuey fled to Cuba to escape Spanish invasion, Guahaba was located in northwestern Haiti. The exact boundaries of the district and its political organization before Spanish conquest is difficult to discern. Tejera, drawing on Las Casas and the Spanish chroniclers, described Guahaba as 18 leagues from Cuba (271). Guahaba itself was said to be in a valley with a river called Hami flowing in it (205). Bernardo Vega, also drawing on similar sources and Peter Martyr d'Anghiera, saw Guahaba as likely located between Gros Morne and Borgne, possibly also the area of Guanacano in the map of Morales (30). Moreover, the region Las Casas referred to as Araguey, a valley and river, was where the Spanish founded the town of Lares de Guahaba (37). Like Vega, Valmé also saw Guahaba as being centered in the valley of Trois Rivieres (178). Keegan likewise focused on Trois Rivieres as the probable location near Port-de-Paix of a very large Taino settlement seen by Columbus's men in the First Voyage (58). While scholars disagree on the exact details, it is clear that Guahaba was in Haiti's northwest, and perhaps with its largest settlement near Gros Morne or Port de Paix. Who was its paramount cacique is unclear, although Hatuey is a likely contender since he was able to lead a large following to Cuba.  

Arranz Márquez's table for the caciques of Lares de Guahava (Guahaba).

Unfortunately, looking at the 1514 repartimiento records sheds little additional light on Guahaba. The area had the smallest Indian population, only 487, but this was likely the result of 3 factors: the exodus to Cuba led by Hatuey, population loss incurred during the "pacification" of the area ordered by Ovando and probably the forced relocation of indigenous peoples to distant locations where mining was conducted or more profitable.  Of the 10 caciques with followers assigned to encomenderos at Lares de Guahaba, some still had indigenous names: Bayacaguera, Mayagumaca, Mota, Miquero. But the one with the largest number of followers, Gaspar Mejias, could have been from the old Guahaba elite or possibly one whose ascent was tied to the changes introduced by the encomienda system (Arranz Marquez 571). Judging by the small indigenous population assigned to encomenderos, one can only safely speculate that the Spanish conquest, encomienda system, disease, and flight to Cuba significantly lowered its population by c. 1514.

The Morales map of Hispaniola showing the northwest.

Even the excellent map of Morales, a great source for understanding, to some extent, the indigenous geography of our island, is of limited utility for Guahaba. Some places in northwestern Haiti are listed by their Spanish names, although some of the rivers and bodies of water retain indigenous toponyms. For example, Guanacano, south of Lares de Guahaba.The river "Hany" also appears on the map, flowing near Lares de Guahaba. Other places listed are too hard to read clearly, but the place at Haiti's northwestern tip appears to read Yahaba. Is this Guahaba? This region is certainly closer to Cuba than where Lares de Guahaba was founded, perhaps closer to the 18 leagues from Cuba mentioned previously. If so, the name must have been applied to a much larger area, extending to the east to Marien, the cacicazgo of Guacanagari. Yet the location of Lares de Guahaba and its proximity to rivers means this area could have been the population center of Guahaba in precolonial times. 

A dog figure found at the site excavated by Barker, possibly a capital of Guahaba (Olsen, On the Trail of the Arawaks). Olsen likens the figure to the dog cemi, Opiyel-Guarobiran.

If one looks to archaeology, only one settlement that was likely in Guahaba has been closely studied. Located on the old Lacorne habitation in Haiti, this site was known as early as 1947. In fact, Michel Aubourg, author of Haiti prehistorique, wrote that this was the site of 1000 huts described by Columbus when he first visited Haiti (54). This site was located 3 km from Trois Rivieres, south of the Tortuga Channel, and bordered on the east by Trois Rivieres. To its south lay the Lacorne habitation (27). Aubourg also believed it was a fishing village or settlement. Fred Olsen, in On the Trail of the Arawaks summarized the research of Paul Barker at the site. Many female figures were found there (Cadet site), and he believed it was the settlement of 1000 houses mentioned by Columbus. Some perhaps implausible figures are also suggested: 5-15,000 residents (114). Again, Columbus's problematic figures came from someone who did not see the settlement in question. Further, it was in his interest to portray the New World as agriculturally rich and full of people to justify the expenses. Still, it does appear that the Cadet site surveyed by Barker was large. Valmé, presumably drawing from Barker's work, described the site as including 240 houses (181). If this is accurate, this was definitely a very large settlement, possibly one of the largest in the Antilles. 

A narcotic grinder in the form of a frog from Guahaba (Olsen, On the Trail of the Arawaks).

As for the Spanish chroniclers and Columbus, they too are not detailed for Guahaba. Columbus, whose journal described northwestern Haiti, mentioned a group of Spaniards he sent to a large village in a valley 4.5 leagues southeast of the coast. This village, allegedly possessing over 1000 houses, was identified by the editor of the Markham edition and translation as modern Gros Morne (108). The people of this village also had hair over their shoulders and a river ran through the center of the valley. This does sound like modern Gros Morne, but further inland than the site at Cadet mentioned by Barker, which raises a number of questions. If the larger populated center was further inland, this would likely have been closer to where the Spanish later founded Lares de Guahaba. Columbus's son, whose The Life of the Admiral is also available in translation, described the same settlement. According to his biography, Columbus sent 9 men to this large inland village about 4 leagues from the coast, where they saw a village of more than 1000 huts in a valley (76). The details match those of Columbus's account, although now it is a little closer to the coast. 

Votive offering figure in the shape of a turtle's head from the Cadet site in Guahaba (Olsen, On the Trail of the Arawaks).

Besides Columbus and his son, the only other sources are the standard cronista accounts of the pacification of the island after Ovando's destruction of Xaragua. Rodrigo Mexia Trillo was sent north of Xaragua where he presumably clashed with Hatuey and other caciques in northern Haiti, ultimately defeating them and establishing Lares de Guahaba. Hatuey fled to Cuba and later resisted that island's conquest when Diego Velazquez arrived in 1511. According to Las Casas, about 50 years earlier Haitians had migrated to Cuba. Oliver has suggested this connection between eastern Cuba and Haiti can be seen in Taino complexes at Pueblo Viejo, Baní, Maisí, and Bayamo (161). It is thus more likely that migrations and cultural influence between peoples of Cuba and Haiti extended much further back in time. This contact must have facilitated the ability of Hatuey to establish himself in Maisí with his followers from Haiti. But besides passing references to Guahaba or Guahava in the campaign of Rodrigo Mexia Trillo and mention of Hatuey's flight to Cuba, little else is known.

Dog-shaped amulets in conch found by Barker in Haiti (On the Trail of the Arawaks).

Of course, one could not end the tale of Guahaba without following up on Hatuey's political career in Cuba. Established in Maisí, the heroic struggle of Hatuey was repeated by Las Casas. Las Casas, who may have deviated from historical truth to assign to Hatuey a special areito in which the god of the Christians was condemned (gold) and his epic refusal to become a Christian before his execution, is the best known source on this. However, whether or not this areito occurred or if Hatuey truly refused to go to heaven because Christians would be there, is not the point. Hatuey's resistance, which only lasted about 3 months in a guerrilla-styled conflict according to Mira Caballos, failed. But in a letter possibly from 1509 (or closer to 1511), Hatuey was described as "señoreaba la media Cuba" (330). To what extent this was hyperbole is also unclear, but Hatuey may have risen to a position of much greater authority than Maisi, easternmost Cuba. Indeed, his authority may have been more than that of a war-chief as speculated by Loven (504). This could have been reinforced by longstanding ties between eastern Cuba and Haiti with earlier alliances between caciques of the two islands that are not recorded in the Spanish sources. This may have made Hatuey an attractive figure for Cubans to support, particularly if he was a higher-ranking cacique in Guahaba before his flight from Haiti.

The monument to Hatuey in Baracoa, Cuba (Wikipedia)

Lamentably, his leadership did not coalesce into a larger anti-Spanish front. Yet despite his death by 1512, Hatuey's anti-Spanish movement was carried on by Caguax, who had served under him. Ultimately, the fate of Hatuey's followers is revealed only by 1514, in a letter by Velazquez. In his letter, he alluded to the Indians of "Yacahuey" or "Yahatuey" working for the Spaniards on estancias  near the Toha river. Some were even "free Christians" tied to the church of San Salvador. Indians still living in the region in the second half of the 16th century possibly include descendants of Hatuey's people. Lopez de Velasco mentioned "indios" living in Baracoa, Santiago, and Baracoa in the 1570s. To what extent Hatuey was remembered or the links to Guahaba is unanswerable, though Hatuey later became a symbol of Cuban nationalism and anti-colonial struggle.

In conclusion, Guahaba remains yet important chiefdom in the indigenous past of Haiti. The early sources that describe northwestern Haiti are often vague or difficult to correlate with the limited archaeological evidence. It is possible that Hatuey, the legendary cacique from Guahaba, was a paramount chief of the area before fleeing to Cuba. One of the largest known settlements in Haiti was also likely in the territory of Guahaba, though it is impossible to say this was the capital of the province. Similarly hard to answer is the relationship of Guahaba to Marien, its eastern neighbor. If Spanish sources describing Guacanagari as a paramount chief are accurate, Guahaba may have fallen under Marien's sphere of influence. Nonetheless, a very large settlement within Guahaba, possibly a fishing settlement, suggests it was a densely populated area. Guahaba's location in northwestern Haiti also made it ideal for exchange with Cuba and the Bahamas. This factor likely explains why Hatuey was able to lead followers to Cuba and find support from indigenous people there. In the future, archaeologists should revisit the Manigat and Cadet sites studied by Barker. Additional surveys in northwestern Haiti may reveal other sizable settlements in this part of the island.

Bibliography

Aubourg, Michel. Haiti prehistorique : mémoire sur les cultures precolombiennes, Ciboney et Taino. Port-au-Prince: Editions Panorama, 1966.

Arranz Márquez, Luis. Repartimientos y encomiendas en la isla Española: El Repartimiento de Albuquerque de 1514. Madrid: Ediciones Fundación García Arévalo, 1991.

Columbus, Christopher, and Clement Robert Markham. The Journal of Christopher Columbus: (during His First Voyage, 1492-93), and Documents Relating to the Voyages of John Cabot and Gaspar Corte Real. New York: B. Franklin, 1970.

Deagan, Kathleen A. En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus. Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press, 2023.

Keegan, William F., and Florida Museum of Natural History. Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2007.

Mira Caballos, Esteban. El indio antillano: repartimiento, encomienda y esclavitud (1492-1542). 1. ed. Sevilla: Múñoz Moya Editor, 1997.

Oliver, José R. 2009. Caciques and Cemí Idols : The Web Spun by Taíno Rulers between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press.

Olsen, Fred. On the Trail of the Arawaks. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1974.

Tejera, Emiliano, Emilio Tejera, and Pedro Henríquez Ureña. Palabras Indígenas De La Isla De Santo Domingo. Ciudad Trujillo: Editora del Caribe, 1951.

Valmé, Gilbert R. Atabey, Yacayequey, Caney, 6000 Ans D'aménagement Territorial Préhispanique Sur L'île D'Ayiti: Haïti/République Dominicaine : Une Approche Holistique Du Patrimoine Zux Antilles : Les Paysages Culturels. Pompano Beach, Florida: Educa Vision, 2012.

Vega, Bernardo. Los Cacicazgos de la Hispaniola. 3. ed. Santo Domingo: Fundación Cultural Dominicana, 1990.

The Cacicazgo of Marien

Map of Chican site clusters from Deagan's En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus

One aspect of Hispaniola's indigenous history that has been debated recently is the status of Guacanagaric as a paramount chief. Since it is possible that Columbus and the early European colonists misunderstood the nuances of indigenous political systems and possible changes in power relations, some have argued that Guacanagaric was possibly a subordinate or lesser cacique whose importance was exaggerated by Spanish accounts and his early alliance with Columbus. A problem with this narrative, however, is the power of Guacanagaric and the Marien chiefdom can be evaluated based on archaeological and historical evidence. While much remains to be done in terms of understanding the indigenous settlements and political arrangements in northern Haiti before 1492, the fact that Guacanagaric's probable capital, En Bas Saline, had one of the largest known plazas on the island of Hispaniola is significant. Evidence of public, monumental architecture and early Spanish sources suggest that Guacanagaric probably was one of, if not the most powerful, cacique on the northern coast of the island from at least Guarico (Cap-Haitien) to Monte Cristi, including parts of the northern plains and sierras to the south. 

Deagan's map of En Bas Saline in relation to the north coast

First, let's begin with the written sources. Columbus, whose Journal of the First Voyage in Journal of Christopher Columbus, is one of our earliest texts, saw Guacanagaric as a "youth" who was carried on a litter and accompanied by 200 men (117). In addition, Columbus later met 5 kings (caciques) subject to Guacanagari (141). This precious testimony suggests that Guacanagari was possibly a young, new ruler in 1492. Yet, despite his youthful appearance, he had at least 5 lesser caciques serving him. Or, at least that's what Columbus believed. Besides Columbus, the chronicler Oviedo also wrote of Guacanagari and Marien. According to Oviedo, a relative of Guacanagari accompanied Columbus on the return to Spain, where he was baptized and took the name of the Spanish monarch (30). This supports the idea of Guacanagari being recognized by the Spanish as a powerful king or Lord. Oviedo similarly wrote of Guacanagari's alleged sexual improprieties with his many women (133). Well, according to Jose Oliver, the cacique had 20 wives at one point (157). While still fewer than Behechio of Xaragua, some of these wives were likely part of matrimonial alliances with other caciques or lesser caciques. Accumulating so many wives was likely part of a strategy pursued by caciques to enhance their position on the island through alliances with different communities. Indeed, stealing or killing the wife of another cacique was of great significance. For example, Columbus's son wrote that Behechio of Xaragua, for instance, was said to have murdered a wife of Guacanagaric while Caonabo stole another. This would have disrupted alliances and family networks that affected how subordinate caciques or nitainos viewed their relationship with Guacanagaric. 

A  guaíza from En Bas Saline. Guacanagari gifted elaborate types of these to Columbus. 

Columbus and the early Spanish sources  provide a wealth of details, despite their obvious limitations and bias. For instance, these sources provide an idea of things that were considered valuable in Marien. Cotton, for instance, was common at Guacanagari's village (Columbus 128). Elsewhere, a relation of tribute received from Indians in 1495, lists gold and an elaborate belt with 4 sheets of gold given by Guacanagari (Relación del oro y joyas que recibió el Almirante después que el receptor Sebastián de Olaño partió de la isla Española para Castilla, desde 10 de Marzo de 1495"). Thus, even without control of gold mining areas, Guacanagari's chiefdom still had access to fine and elaborate gold objects, belts, and even a frog-shaped grain of gold. Villages or settlements in the region could also be rather large. Guarico, nearby, may have held over 2000 people (Columbus 130). Furthermore, the land of Guarionex was said to be located 4 days to the east. This suggests that, roughly, Las Casas, writing in Apologética historia sumaria, may have been broadly correct when he wrote that Marien covered the northern coast after Guahaba to Vega Real, including parts of the Vega Real and the sierras. It was then followed by Macorix de abajo, which included Monte Cristi. Overall, Marien covered 15 leagues or more, and likely even more territory when the hills were included. Elsewhere, in "A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies, Las Casas claimed to have personally met several high-ranking vassals of Guacanagari (20). This is further, albeit late and problematic, testimony of Guacanagari likely possessing paramount chieftain status in the North. 

Gilbert R. Valmé's aerial view of En Bas Saline and the larger Plaine du Nord region in 

Perhaps the most detailed yet problematic source of all is an account of Guacanagari's capital described by Luis Joseph Peguero. A writer from the Spanish colony, he may have had access to lost sources, including an account by Rodrigo Escobedo and Juan Salsedo. These two allegedly went to Guacanagari's court. One pueblo in the chiefdom, Cacuma, allegedly held 300 houses. The capital of Marien, likely today's En Bas Saline, was said to have 8000 houses of straw and wood. There were allegedly 4 streets, 4 barrios or sections, and a plaza in the center with the "palace" of the king in the midway point of the plaza (Peguero 38). It is very likely that the estimate of 8000 houses is a gross exaggeration, although Escobedo and Salsedo may have meant the larger district and not just the main settlement. Besides this estimate of 8000 houses, the capital's plaza contained a large house on its Southside where 100 soldiers and officials were (39). This may be an allusion to important elders and soldiers (nitainos) who assisted Guacanagari in the administration of the chiefdom. Later, the cacique was said to have had 25 nobles in his personal guard and a court with 8 elders (40). If he was relatively young in 1492, these elders may have been advisors who offered wisdom and practical experience in government. The Spaniards allegedly saw the temple of Marien, too. Supposedly square-shaped, made of wood and containing idols (including those fabricated with gold), the temple may have been a caney or similar structures used for various ceremonies (41). The idea of a highly ranked or stratified society also emerges in the description of the temple as having 4 separate entrances/exits for the different classes: royal family, nobles, plebeians and one only entered by the dead (used for funerary rites or rituals?). Guacanagari's palace was allegedly 32 paths long, 10 wide and divided into 4 parts. His palace included a nearby section used by 40 or more Indian women who cooked or prepared food (42). Later on, Peguero wrote of Guacanagari sending 800 archers to fight for the Spanish (73). While Peguero also blamed Roldan's rebels for burning Guacanagari's Pueblo and killing him for failing to pay tribute, other sources suggest Guacanagari died alone, in the mountains, after earning the hatred of his people and the betrayal of his Spanish allies (Nau's version of events). 

Although there are obviously many questionable aspects of what Peguero wrote about Marien's capital, Deagan's work at the site of En Bas Saline partly affirms it. Settlement at En Bas Saline by people who made Chicoid pottery began about 250 years before the arrival of Columbus. It may have been a Chican intrusion into a part of northern Hispaniola occupied by Meillacoid pottery makers (36). In addition, En Bas Saline was the only known ceremonial plaza site on the coast (39). Its larger region may have stretched from the west side of Fort Liberte bay to the west side of the Bay of Acul (40). The site of En Bas Saline also covered 90,000 square meters and features public architecture (56). The central plaza covered around 50,000 square meters and featured 3 mounded areas (73). The elite mound site in the plaza was apparently 34 meters by 16 meters (98). The earliest definable building on the central mound was circular or elliptical in shape with a diameter of 12 meters (114). Using Curet's ratio of floor space-per-person, Deagan has estimated the central mound building may have housed 20-30 people (123). This could have been the 'palace' of Guacanagari described by Escobedo. In addition, the evidence for public feasting at the pits shows the communal nature of the space (129). However, Deagan did not see probable evidence for surplus storage distribution by the cacique for these feats (138). Nonetheless, she found evidence for control or organization of labor and the means of craft production at the elite mound in the plaza (232). This indicates that the cacique did exert some control over the means of production (at least for some goods). Further evidence of at least some degree of social stratification or "ranked" societies can be seen in the fact that the scarcest animals, iguanas, sea turtles, and manatees, were only found in the central mound residence and burial pit (270). This would match descriptions in the Spanish chronicles of caciques monopolizing certain types of meat and food (such as a finer quality of casabe). 

Ultimately, Deagan views En Bas Saline as a "corporate chiefdom model." This may very well be true, but it seems probable that Guacanagari was not a lesser or subordinate cacique. Indeed, there was a string of villages on Haiti's North coast which were connected by an aboriginal road that ran from En Bas Saline to the modern-day Dominican republic (Keegan, 72). It is likely that Guacanagari's Marien was the most powerful chiefdom in the region and exerted influence on most of (if not all) of Haiti's northern coast. Furthermore, the cacicazgo may have been engaged in trade with Lucayans from Turks and Caicos. Keegan, who identified a prominent site (MC-6) on Middle Caicos, has found imported Chicoid pottery and speculates that the settlement likely engaged in trade with the northern coast of Hispaniola. Indeed, Keegan has even proposed that Caonabo, said to be of Lucayan origin, was from MC-6 (Keegan, 148). If so, then it is possible that Caonabo may have known of Guacanagari's chiefdom before Guacanagari became its ruler. Moreover, Marien may have been able to control trade between Hispaniola and Turks & Caicos along Haiti's northern coast.

The evidence, despite its limitations, suggest Marien truly was the seat of a paramount cacicazgo. To what extent Guahaba was fully in its sphere of influence is uncertain, but population numbers from the 1514 Repartimiento for Lares de la Guahaba and Puerto Real are suggestive of a much greater population in the area of Puerto Real (built near En Bas Saline). The population of Guahaba, whose center may have been at Gros-Morne, could have been autonomous but gradually fell under the influence of Guacanagari as he tried to use his alliance with the Spanish to increase his status. Las Casas, who at least met several of the subordinates of Guacanagari, believed it covered at least 15 leagues of territory and Moreau de Saint-Mery extended its southern border to the Artibonite. The latter even included Port-de-Paix in Marien and posited that Guacanagari commanded as many as 200,000 people! Moreover, by c.1514, there were still hundreds of Indians assigned in encomiendas far away from Puerto Real, about 317 indigenous people, whose caciques were from Marien. They might represent the core of the Marien cacicazgo's population, decimated by colonial conquest and forced relocation. One can imagine that their population in 1492 was significantly larger, and Guacanagari's chiefdom may have extended its influence across much more of northern Haiti.

Bibliography

Casas, Bartolomé de las, and Edmundo O'Gorman. Apologética Historia Sumaria. [3. ed.]. México, 1967

Casas, Bartolomé de las, and Nigel Griffin. A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies. London, England ; New York, N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1992.

Columbus, Christopher, and Clement Robert Markham. The Journal of Christopher Columbus: (during His First Voyage, 1492-93), and Documents Relating to the Voyages of John Cabot and Gaspar Corte Real. New York: B. Franklin, 1970.

Deagan, Kathleen A. En Bas Saline: A Taíno Town Before and After Columbus. Gainesville, FL: University of Florida Press, 2023.

Fernández de Oviedo y Valdés, G., Amador de los Ríos, J., & R. Academia de la historia, M. (1851). Historia general y natural de las Indias, islas y tierrafirme del mar océano. Impr. de la Real academia de la historia.

Keegan, William F., and Florida Museum of Natural History. Taíno Indian Myth and Practice: The Arrival of the Stranger King. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2007.

Moreau de Saint-Méry, M. L. E. Description Topographique, Physique, Civile, Politique Et Historique De La Partie Française De L'isle Saint-Domingue: Avec Des Observations Générales Sur Sa Population, Sur Le Caractère & Les Moeurs De Ses Divers Habitans, Sur Son Climat, Sa Culture, Ses Productions, Son Administration, &c. &c. : Accompagnées Des Détails Les Plus Propres à Faire Connaître L'état De Cette Colonie à L'époque Du 18 Octobre 1789 : Et D'une Nouvelle Carte De La Totalité De L'isle. A Philadelphie: Et s'y trouve chez l'auteur ..., 1797.

Nau, Émile. Histoire Des Caciques D'Haiti. Port-au-Prince: T. Bouchereau, imprimeur-editeur, rue Courbe, 1855.

Oliver, José R. 2009. Caciques and Cemí Idols : The Web Spun by Taíno Rulers between Hispaniola and Puerto Rico. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press.

Peguero, Luis Joseph, Antonio de Herrera y Tordesillas, Biblioteca Nacional, and Publicaciones del Museo de las Casas Reales. 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. Santo Domingo: [Museo de las Casas Reales], 1975.

Stone, Erin W. "The Conquest of Española as a “Structure of Conjuncture”. Ethnohistory 1 July 2021; 68 (3): 363–383. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/00141801-8940494

Valmé, Gilbert R. Atabey, Yacayequey, Caney, 6000 Ans D'aménagement Territorial Préhispanique Sur L'île D'Ayiti: Haïti/République Dominicaine : Une Approche Holistique Du Patrimoine Zux Antilles : Les Paysages Culturels. Pompano Beach, Florida: Educa Vision, 2012.

Agueybana's Cacicazgo

 

Image of a duho from Puerto Rico's southern coast reproduced in Joanna Opstakowicz's Taíno Wooden Sculpture: Duhos, Rulership and the Visual Arts in the 12th-16th Century.

Although the extant corpus of Spanish sources isn't as detailed as Spanish accounts of chiefdoms on Hispaniola, there are tantalizing clues about the development of a possible paramount chiefdom led by Agueybana. Located on Puerto Rico's southern coast, most Spanish sources from the first half of the 16th century suggest Agueybana was the most senior of all caciques or perhaps "king" of the island. This notion is repeated by Oviedo, implied by a 1511 letter addressed to Agueybana from the Spanish monarch, and further implied by Agueybana II's leadership of the revolt against the Spanish. Indeed, Peter Martyr d'Anghiera wrote of Puerto Rico as under the domain of one king, presumably an allusion to the powerful chiefdom of Agueybana which may have occupied a position of economic, political and ritual power. Indeed, Martyr d'Anghiera based his brief description of Puerto Rico on information from natives of Puerto Rico who traveled on a ship from Columbus's 2nd Voyage. 

The cacicazgo, sometimes called Guaynia in older secondary sources, may have been near the modern town of Ponce or its environs. According to Sued Badillo, the site of Cayabo may have been the chiefly lineage of Agueybana. Elsewhere, in a book on Agueybana, he claimed his territory stretched from the cacique Yauco to the cacique Abey. Francisco Moscoso, in his study of caciques and aldeas on the island, suggested that the land of Agueybana included the mouth of the Coayuco river and the salines of the Guanica area. This region was particularly fertile, thereby allowing for a larger yuca production. Access to abundant sources of fish further favored a demographic expansion in this area. If one remembers Xaragua in Hispaniola, easy access to marine protein was one factor for its large population centers. Moreover, Agueybana's cacicazgo included more encomienda Indians, 600, assigned to Cristobal de Sotomayor. This encomienda included 70,000 mounds of Indian-styled conucos, suggesting the region was one of the leading centers of casabe production on the island and heavily populated. Moscoso tentatively estimated that the land of Agueybana may have included a total population of 3000 if one considers that the 600 encomienda Indians did not include the entire population but those fit for work. 

Jose Oliver, drawing on archaeological evidence and early colonial sources, suggests strong ties between Puerto Rico and eastern Hispaniola. The region of Higuey appears to have participated in similar symbolism of chiefly rank and may have engaged in intermarriage or guatiao relationships with the powerful cacicazgo on Puerto Rico's southern coast. Indeed, the name Agueybana was also used in La Saona and Cayacoa near Santo Domingo, perhaps suggestive of close relations between chiefly lineage groups in Higuey and other parts of Hispaniola with Puerto Rico. For example, there was a cacique of La Saona named Agueybana. Another cacique, in Higuey, was said to be related to the Agueybana of Puerto Rico. Further evidence can be seen in archaeological evidence of contacts across the Mona Passage that may stretch back to the 7th century in terms of cemis, stone collars and other artifacts, like duhos. It is possible that the cacicazgo later associated with Agueybana was one of these centers that engaged in relations with Hispaniola centuries before the Spanish conquest. 

Unfortunately, the development of the sugar industry likely destroyed many traces of the indigenous civilization that prospered in the area. But the clues from the colonial archive and archaeological evidence point to strong ties between Puerto Rico and eastern Hispaniola. These included important symbols and paraphernalia of chiefly lineages and status. That it was Agueybana II, the brother of Agueybana I, who was able to draw 30 caciques to fight against the Spanish in 1511 points to the status of this cacique as a respected leader. In terms of "rule" over the island, it was likely based on indigenous concepts in which tribute in labor may have been acquired over vassal caciques ruling individual valleys. Close ties to Hispaniola's east may have been a further factor in the status of Agueybana's cacicazgo as it could have been a source of prestigious trade goods. Indeed, trade with the south through the Lesser Antilles to South America may have been an additional factor as guanin and other highly valued imports could have reached Puerto Rico's southern coast before being traded to other parts of the island or Hispaniola. Lastly, the fact that Agueybana II could call upon so-called "Carib" allies in his conflicts against the Spanish in the 1510s may be another indication of a regional power with influence extending to the Lesser Antilles. As succession to the position of cacique in this cacicazgo appears to have been through the maternal line, one may surmise that the exchange of women as wives from this cacicazgo to others may have been seen as a prestige for allies and subordinate caciques.

Magloire Ambroise and Cangé

Whilst perusing an article on Magloire Ambroise by Alix Ambroise in the Revue of the Haitian Historical Society, we noticed some inconsistencies. according to Alix Ambroise, Magloire was born on the Pasquet habitation. He married Theophile Cangé, the daughter of Pierre Cangé. However, when checking the parish registers, we came across a Marie Rose Theophile who was the daughter of Jean Louis Cangé and Marie Charlotte Favre. It would seem that Alix Ambroise, presumably a descendant of Magloire Ambroise, the hero of Jacmel, made an error.

Black Crown & Henri Christophe

Paul Clammer's Black Crown: Henry Christophe, the Haitian Revolution and the Caribbean's Forgotten Kingdom is a meticulously researched biography of one of the central figures in the annals of the Haitian Revolution and 19th century Haiti. Based on a mixture of all available sources, Clammer, who has written travel literature on Haiti, has consulted archives, visited the sites associated with Christophe's state, and used European, Haitian, and US sources to reconstruct the life of Christophe. As one might expect, his early origins in Grenada remain shrouded in mystery. Even his participation in the struggle for US independence remains a mystery. However, Christophe, once in Le Cap, was able to establish himself and build connections. During the Haitian Revolution, he rose to positions of ever greater importance until he became one of the upper echelon of military officials under Toussaint Louverture. Joining with Dessalines, he fought for Haitian independence against Leclerc and Rochambeau. Clammer, based on surviving correspondence of Christophe and other sources, favors the argument that Christophe was not directly involved in the assassination of Dessalines, and once the deed was done, was positioning himself strategically. The conflict with Petion and the South subsequently divided Haiti into two separate states, with Christophe as the essentially uncontested leader in the Nord. By the time he declared himself king, Christophe had neutralized potential competitors (even doing so during the Haitian Revolution against maroon leader Sans Souci and others).

The most interesting chapters of the biography cover the reign of Christophe as king. Ruling the Kingdom of Haiti, Christophe sponsored the construction of beautiful palaces like Sans Souci, promoted plantation agriculture, instituted legal codes that at least, in theory, guaranteed certain rights for cultivators, and engaged in all the theatricality of power and magnificence to present an image of Haiti as a civilized land making progress for Western audiences. Clammer's deftly written and detailed accounts of Christophe's diplomatic engagements with Britain and Europe on the one hand, and the struggles he engaged with against his own subjects and the republic to the South, make for engaging and fascinating reading. Unfortunately, the surviving source are not as rich as one would like for understanding a more complete portrait of the kingdom. Surviving ledgers give tantalizing clues about sugar and coffee production, with the state-enforced plantation system falling behind on sugar. Indeed, near the end of his reign, Christophe began distributing land to soldiers, perhaps as many as 8000 in one letter cited by Clammer. However, the vast majority of the land grants were for tiny farms, although Christophe did appear to have engaged in broadening land ownership and creating more titled nobles. Sadly, Christophe was unable to suppress a revolt that began in Saint-Marc and was supported by Jean-Pierre Richard, an African-born leader of Cap Henry who had been imprisoned by Christophe at the Citadel and forced to do hard labor. 

Since his stroke appears to have inspired malcontents and rebels to take action, and once loyal subordinates chose to do nothing or join in the rebellion, Christophe knew his end was near. The black king who sought to create a strong nation, was overthrown. The North was reunified with the rest of the country and Haiti as we know was consolidated. The Christophe experiment, however, represented the last of the revolutionary era leadership who were at least somewhat successful at maintaining export-oriented plantation agriculture. Christophe's state, which sparked resistance from local cultivators (though his frequent tours of the countryside and audiences suggests he must have at least occasionally ensured the Code Henry's protections for workers were respected), represented another path for national development. More successful than the southern republic, at least for a short while, the Christophean experiment offers us a view of what Haiti could have become had Christophe been able to balance the desires of the rural majority and perhaps had not treated some of his own subordinates so harshly or capriciously. 

Pedraza Everywhere

Although the documentary trail is incomplete, it looks like one of our forebears was a descendant a family that frequently married cousins in the 18th and 19th centuries, the Pedraza. The earliest one we can find is a Lorenzo Pedraza, who died in 1812. His wife, Rafaela de Arroyo, passed away in 1800, in Caguas. We also know that a son of this couple, Hilario Pedrasa de Arroyo, married a Dorotea de Sierra Pedrasa in 1788 (also in Caguas). Since Dorotea's mother was a Juana Pedrasa and Hilario's father also a Pedrasa, we think the two were probably related. 

We believe that Hilario Pedrasa and Dorotea de Sierra were the parents of the Ramona Pedraza we are interested in. According to the parish books of San Lorenzo, a Ramona Pedraza, daughter of Hilario and Dorotea, married Domingo Montanez (son of Juan and Maria Reyes) in 1813. The Montanez and Pedraza have a long history in the 18th and 19th centuries, at least in the area of Caguas and San Lorenzo. We believe the daughter of Domingo Montanez and Ramona Pedraza, married a Montanez who likely descends from the same lineage. 

This daughter, Isabel or Ysabel Montanez Pedraza, married a Guillermo Diaz of Guayama. According to the little we could find in the parish books, Guillermo Diaz was a hijo natural of a Isabel Diaz. We know both were pardos or morenos. Fortunately, a number of documents assert that the parents of Ysabel Montanez Pedraza were Domingo and Ramona Pedraza, pardos libres. Ysabel's death certificate from the late 1800s also identifies her father as a Domingo Montanez. 

To make things even more confusing, a Maria Ramona Pedraza was said to have married a Ramon Benitez in 1821. Get this, Maria Ramona Pedraza's parents were listed by the parish priest in San Lorenzo as Hilario and a Teodora (Dorotea?) Sierra! Perhaps Ramona remarried then or there was a mix-up  on the part of the parish priest.

If our theory is correct, then Domingo Montanez's parents were Juan Montanez and Maria Reyes. Now we need to find out the origins of Isabel Diaz, Guillermo's mother. The Pedraza and Montanez appear to have been related and marrying each other since the second half of the 1700s, but the origins of the Diaz line remains a mystery. Furthermore, we were unable to determine the origins of Lorenzo Pedraza, the father of Hilario. 

African Ancestry Update (2025)

Although we knew Africa was not the focus of the 2025 update for Ancestry, we still thought there might be some changes. Instead, with the exception of a decrease of 1% for Senegal, our sub-Saharan African estimates are essentially the same. For our Haitian parent, nothing changed either except for a minor increase in their Benin & Togo estimate (up by 2%). They retained their minor estimates for various smaller regions while we still have a division of "Nigeria" into Central Nigeria, North-Central Nigeria and Nigeria. 

None of this is too surprising. It looks like the 2025 update is largely unchanged from the 2024 update. And as we already expected, we are more West African than Central African In fact, it would appear that our Haitian parent and I harbor substantial ancestry derived from the Slave Coast and Bight of Biafra, which is also backed by the records of the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade and Saint Domingue (colonial Haiti). I personally find it intriguing that so little sub-Saharan African ancestry was passed on through the Hispanic side.

The only real change to our African ancestry was the inflated North Africa estimate of 4%. The first time we got our results, the estimate was 2%. Then, following the update, it dropped to 1%. Inexplicably, it shot up to 4% this year. While we did see an estimate of 1% Canary Islands, we doubt we have substantial :Guanche" ancestry that might explain this. It seems like the creation of new areas for Spain and the Iberian peninsula altered or created problems for other nearby regions or categories. Indeed, this might be why we suddenly see a 2% Sephardic Jewish estimate while previous updates never included that. Of course, we do have very distant Sephardic Jewish matches from the eastern Mediterranean or North Africa as well as North African Muslim matches...

Marie Gaury of Okap

Whilst perusing Moreau de Saint-Méry's compilation, Loix et constitutions des colonies françoises de l'Amérique sous le Vent, we came across yet another Gaury from the early 18th century. Although there is probably no connection with the Gaury of Bainet and her race is not specified, the Marie Gaury who won a case against the father of her child could have been mixed-race. If so, and her roots lay in Saint-Christophe, perhaps she was a relative of the Gaury in Croix-des-Bouquet and Bainet.

Nago Legacy in Haiti

Milo Rigaud's La tradition voudoo et le voudoo haitien includes this beautiful veve for Ogou Batala.

The Yoruba legacy in Haiti survives in some rather influential ways. For instance, Haitian Rara music appears to be at least partly influenced by the Yoruba. According to J.B. Romain's Africanismes haïtiens, the word rara is likely derived from Yoruba. Although it is culturally a fusion of different elements, the use of a name derived from the Yoruba language attests to the presence of Yoruba speakers among the enslaved. In addition, the "Nago" are remembered and some of their orishas are honored in Haitian Vodou tradition. In fact, some Haitians still used the name Nago as a family name well into the 19th century. This important legacy suggests the Nago were remembered in Haitian tradition for far more than facial scarification on their cheeks or a penchant for stealing, as Malenfant described them in the 18th century. 

Milo Marcelin's Mythologie Vodou includes many examples of songs alluding to the Nago spirits. 

In Milo Marcelin's Mythologie Vodou (Rite Arada), numerous allusions to the Nago and Nago-derived lwa can be found. The Nago orishas are often subsumed in the category of Ogou (Ogun to the Yoruba), in various manifestations or forms. Thus, some, like Ogou Chango, are clearly a reference to Shango. Others, like Ogou Olicha, appears to be an allusion to a lwa whose name includes the word orisha. Considering the military leadership and skill needed for Haitian independence to materialize, one can imagine Ogou was a major lwa for many in Haiti.

Hector Hyppolite's Ogoun Chango.

Additional Ogous whose names refer to the Nago are Ogou Feraille, Batala (Obatala), Ogou Badagri, Olisha, and Ossange. Badagri, whose very name refers to the slave trade port of Badagry, is hardly a surprise as a Nago divinity. Batala is undoubtedly derived from Obatala of Yoruba tradition, while Ossange, a healer, is Osanyin. Unsurprisingly, the Nago appear to be associated with war, military prowess, and iron in Haitian tradition. Such a reputation can be seen in the role of Nago war leaders during the Haitian Revolution, such as Halaou and Gracia Lafortune. Yet Marcelin also reported that the Nago lwa Ogou Badagri was the father of the Haitian "mulatto." We are not sure if this association with "mulattoes" may be an allusion to mixed-race generals and military leaders during the Haitian Revolution. 

Haitian African Updates

Our Haitian parent's updated results in Ancesty are essentially unchanged. Benin & Togo increased by 2% while Nigeria, Ivory Coast & Ghana, and Western Bantu Peoples each declined by 1%. They retained their minor estimates of new regions from last year (Yorubaland, North-Central Nigeria, Nigerian Woodlands). Our African ancestry through Haiti seems to largely consist of captives sold to Europeans from the Slave Coast and Bight of Biafra. 

23andme Update

 

Our Haitian relative shared their updated ancestry composition report from 23andme recently. As we expected, little changed for their sub-Saharan African ancestry. The "Broadly West African" category disappeared, but merely boosted their "Nigerian" estimate to 43.2%. They also retained the close Igbo match. As for their other African regions, everything is largely the same. Country matches with Liberia, Sierra Leone ad Ghana, but no specific ethnic groups or regions. Their Congolese and Southern East African results are also similar, with the 0.4% Southern East African estimate minor. Again, hardly anything new. In fact, it confirms their overwhelmingly West African ancestry that appears most rooted in Lower Guinea. From the slave trade data to Saint-Domingue, this suggests almost half of her ancestry is rooted in areas that fed the Slave Coast and Bight of Biafra. 

For Europe, however, some changes can be seen. France is finally severed from Germany, and clearly makes up most of her European ancestry. This is hardly surprising for Haitians. The Belgian, Rhinelander, and Southern Dutch is new, but also not too surprising as Belgium neighbors France. We also noticed that our parent and I had distant DNA matches with users from Belgium and the Netherlands on MyHeritage, too. Perhaps 23andme is confirming distant ancestry from that region for both of us. As for the Iberian Peninsula, 23andme's update assigned it to Andalusian, Asturian & Castilian with 0.2% Basque. Very small but there is some overlap with France in the Iberian Peninsula. Haiti, of course, also had people of Spanish origin during the colonial era. Lastly, the Irish ancestry at 0.2% was unexpected. But perhaps to be explained in the overlap of Irish populations with other groups in western Europe?

Fortunately, there is some more precision in the update for our Haitian parent's minor Amerindian ancestry. Like Ancestry DNA, 23andme assigns it to a vaguely South American origin. We would like to think this Central Andean/Amazonian estimate is misreading indigenous Taino ancestry, but our parent does not have any Historical Matches from the indigenous Caribbean. Therefore, if it's not from the indigenous peoples of Haiti or the Greater Antilles, it may be indigenous people who came to Saint Domingue under French rule. Baptismal records indicate Indians from Aruba, today's Colombia, and other regions were in the colony. Perhaps that's the origin of this allegedly South American indigenous ancestry? 

As for trace ancestry, it is now reflected as North African and Northern Indian & Pakistani. The latter appears at all confidence levels, too, while North Africa disappears at 80% confidence level. The North African may be via the minor Spanish ancestry or perhaps West Africa. It is difficult to say with certainty, but North African ancestry is not indicated by this relative's Ancestry DNA results at all. Even for myself, with far more substantial ancestry from the Iberian Peninsula, my North African estimate was only 1% on Ancestry DNA. Thus, is it possible the trace North African ancestry in our Haitian parent is via West Africa? Their South Asian trace ancestry is similarly ambiguous. It is no longer Malayali South Indian but remains an enigma.

Black and White, Unite and Fight

Whilst perusing  Moreau de Saint-Méry's compilation of laws, legal renderings, administrative decrees, etc. and came across a reference to a conspiracy by 2 black slaves and 1 white engagé to overthrow the colonial state in 1691. It involved allying with the Spanish colony in the east to distract the French troops and then the blacks would take Port-de-Paix and overrun the Nord of Saint Domingue. The  Loix et constitutions des colonies françoises de l'Amérique sous le Vent contains some details on the background of the authors of the conspiracy, which are interesting since this is one of the few recorded examples of white indentured laborers collaborating with African slaves in colonial Haiti (that we know of). According to this source, the 2 black slaves were Janot Marin and Pierrot, "owned" by different masters. Their conspiracy was also linked to a mulatto spy from the neighboring Spanish colony. The white indentured laborer, Louis Blaise of Tours, was about 16 years old and indentured to a marchand named Rouquier. Pierrot, also called Georges Dollo, was a "Senegalois" of about 18, who asserted that the chief of the conspiracy was a "Congre" (Congo?) black owned by Lamalle. 

Although it is a little difficult to determine from this brief source every part of the conspiracy, we know Blaise, Pierrot, and Marin were sentenced to death for it. Blaise, the indentured laborer, appears to have been involved in the conspiracy and was presumably drawn to collaborate with black slaves by the exploitative conditions of his contract. The black slaves, of diverse origins (Congo, Senegalois, and likely others), were politically astute and sought alliances with the Spanish colony of Santo Domingo to overthrow the French. Unfortunately for them, their conspiracy was discovered and the leaders executed. Clearly, the French authorities realized the potential dangers of interracial subaltern revolt. 

Estimating the Nago Population in Saint Domingue

One very rough method of estimating the possible Yoruba imports in Saint-Domingue is to combine estimates and data from Manning, Geggus, and other sources. Manning, whose study of the slave trade in Dahomey was a major source used by us for another group, has provided us some rough estimates for the ethnic origin of Slave Coast exports in the period from 1641-1870. Using his estimates for the period 1641-1800, we calculated that about 10.35% of the total exports were of Yoruba captives. If one applies this estimate of 10.35% to David Geggus's data on Bight of Benin imports in Saint-Domingue, one reaches the figure of around 16327 "Nago" captives. Intriguingly, Geggus's own dataset of 13,334 slaves from 1721-1797 included 1580 Nago captives. That makes them about 11.85% of the slave population in that particular dataset. But applying that percentage to the total estimated slave imports would wield an unreasonably high number,  about 71,077. 

When checking the Slave Voyages site on the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, one finds different numbers. For the period from 1709-1792, the data gives us a total of 185,248 captives brought to Saint Domingue from the Bight of Benin. If one uses Manning's data for a general estimate of 10.35%, then perhaps 19173 Yoruba were brought to the colony of Saint Domingue in the 18th century. This is higher than our earlier estimate of 16327 but still plausible. It also seems likely that in the later decades of the 18th century, the Nago presence among the African-born population was proportionally greater or more conspicuous. Nonetheless, it is likely that the numbers of Nago captives brought to the colony were perhaps anywhere from 16327 to 19173. Using the latter high, one might suggest the "Nago" were nearly 3.2% of the total imported into the island on French ships. The number was likely higher since smuggled captives were not considered and the data isn't as reliable as it should be. 

Manifeste du Parti d'Entente Populaire

The Parti d'Entente Populaire's Manifeste is a precious document for understanding how Alexis and other Haitian intellectuals viewed Marxism and the struggle of national liberation and development. While undoubtedly a Marxist and believing that the "New Independence" of Haiti must center the working classes, Alexis was a pragmatist who saw the extreme backwardness of the Haitian economy and the weakness of its working-class as major impediments to any type of socialist revolution. Instead, inter-class alliances uniting the peasantry (the vast majority of the population in the mid-20th century), the unemployed and poor urban masses, the tiny working-class, middle-class elements (despite being, on average, the most conservative, some of them and the middle-class intellectuals should be included in a united national front), and the bourgeoisie nationale should be the goal. With this broad coalition, Alexis and the PEP believed that the semi-feudal and imperialist conditions in which Haiti had languished for 150 years could finally be overturned. Already by this period, Haiti's conditions were dire and the writing was on the wall on the lack of any viable economic or social future. Consequently, the workers, peasants, progressive-minded Haitians and members of the bourgeoisie eager to industrialize Haiti or safely invest their capital in the country must cooperate to create a democratic, liberal state. 

Naturally, the PEP's program for this future state included active state intervention in the economy and a number of protections for workers, landless peasants, a plan for economic development that welcomed the national bourgeoisie and sought to limit the negative impact of US imperialism. But before any type of socialist revolution could take place, a bourgeoisie nationale must be included in a progressive coalition to overturn "feudalism" and imperialism. This reading of Haitian political history and the solution to the problems of Haiti led to a generally positive view of the Liberals of the 19th century and the champions of civil government and liberal reforms, including Edmond Paul and Firmin as intellectuals who correctly identified some of the solutions for Haiti. However, since the bourgeois and petit-bourgeois progressives in the 1840s, 1870s, and other moments ultimately sided with the "feudal" landowners, military generals, and imperialist forces at other moments when the semi-feudal, imperialist conditions of Haiti were threatened, the PEP promoted inter-class solidarity for a united front while placing less emphasis on their Marxist influences or believe in the next stage or mode. Through education, collaboration, and protecting Haitian commerce and industry, the PEP would win over progressives of the bourgeoisie whose long-term interests meant an end to the feudal conditions of Haiti. 

Of course, one wonders why conditions in the 1950s and 1960s would be any different from past experiences where Haiti's bourgeoisie chose to side with the retrograde "feudal" forces. Seeing their long-term class interests requires rational thought and a willingness to forego immediate profits while also risking everything in moments of unrest, arson or looting. Duvalierism itself also represented something new that, though obviously based on the "ancient Haitian tradition" of governance and corruption, was more extreme and authoritarian (arguably not so obvious in 1959). One assumes Alexis saw this, and perhaps was increasingly drawn to the Cuban model and Castro for their successes in seizing government and instituting a number of reforms and protections for the poor. Indeed, Mao and the Chinese Revolution were clearly another source of influence on how Alexis's political ideology and programs may have changed had he lived longer or the PEP was able to take power. And looking at Haiti today, with its apocalyptic conditions and nonviable economic, social and political conditions, one can see that no inter-class coalition that united the national bourgeoisie, workers, peasants, and the middle classes was able to institute a state with durable liberal governance. Although the political system did open up to include those from the lower classes and middle class, Haiti has been beset by various crises, foreign interventions, and now, a complete hollowing out of the state. One wonders how horrified Alexis would be today if he had lived to see what became of our island, and perhaps how far from fruition even some of the basic ideas in the PEP's program are.