They had flattered themselves, for a time, that the visit of the strangers would be but temporary, and that, spreading their ample sails, their ships would waft them back to their home in the sky. In their simplicity, they had frequently inquired of the Spaniards when they intended to return to Turey, or the heavens. But when all such hope was at an end, they became desperate, and resorted to a forlorn and terrible alternative.
They knew the Spaniards depended chiefly on the supplies raised in the islands for a subsistence; and these poor Indians endeavoured to produce a famine. For this purpose they destroyed their fields of maize, stripped the trees of their fruit, pulled up the yuca and other roots, and then fled to the mountains.
The Spaniards were reduced to much distress, but were partially relieved by supplies from Spain. To revenge themselves on the Indians, they pursued them to their mountain retreats, hunted them from one dreary fastness to another, like wild beasts, until thousands perished in dens and caverns, of famine and sickness, and the survivors, yielding themselves up in despair, submitted to the yoke of slavery. But they did not long bear the burden of life under their civilized masters. In 1504, only twelve years after the discovery of Hayti, when Columbus visited it, (under the administration of Ovando,) he thus wrote to his sovereigns: “Since I left the island, six parts out of seven of the natives are dead, all through ill-treatment and inhumanity; some by the sword, others by blows and cruel usage, or by hunger.”
No wonder these oppressed Indians considered the Christians the incarnation of all evil. Their feelings were often expressed in a manner that must have touched the heart of a real Christian, if there was such a one among their oppressors.
When Velasquez set out to conquer Cuba, he had only three hundred men; and these were thought sufficient to subdue an island above seven hundred miles in length, and filled with inhabitants. From this circumstance we may understand how naturally mild and unwarlike was the character of the Indians. Indeed, they offered no opposition to the Spaniards, except in one district. Hatuey, a cacique who had fled from Hayti, had taken possession of the eastern extremity of Cuba. He stood upon the defensive, and endeavoured to drive the Spaniards back to their ships. He was soon defeated and taken prisoner.
Velasquez considered him as a slave who had taken arms against his master, and condemned him to the flames. When Hatuey was tied to the stake, a friar came forward, and told him that if he would embrace the Christian faith, he should be immediately, on his death, admitted into heaven.
“Are there any Spaniards,” says Hatuey, after some pause, “in that region of bliss you describe?”
“Yes,” replied the monk, “but only such as are worthy and good.”
“The best of them,” returned the indignant Indian, “have neither worth nor goodness; I will not go to a place where I may meet with one of that cruel race.”