Santo Domingo seems to have been a country cursed of God! The terrible hurricane of 1930 which destroyed so much of the capital and killed so many of the inhabitants was just another of the calamities which has visited Hispaniola since Columbus first sailed across the bar into the quiet waters of the Ozama River, and secured his caravel to a huge tree on its bank. This hurricane of 1930 laid desolate a large part of Santo Domingo City, and trailed death and disaster on the wings of the storm as it swept across the southern savannas and Maimon Mountains, finally spending itself in the Vega Real in the interior where Santiago de Los Caballeros, the City of Gentlemen, reigns as metropolis.
The first permanent settlement that Columbus laid out was located on the north coast of the island some few miles west of the present town of Puerto Plata, and was named Isabella in honor of the Spanish Queen. About a year later, shortly before Columbus departed for Spain, a man named Diaz brought to the settlement of Isabella reports of rich gold mines on the south coast.
Columbus left his brother Bartholomew in command when he set sail for the land of the Dons. After considering the matter during the voyage home, he sent instructions to Bartholomew by the returning vessels to start building a town on the south coast, indicating a point at the mouth of the Ozama where it washes into the Caribbean. August 4, 1496, saw the first stone laid for the City of Santo Domingo, commanding the Caribbean and the Ozama from the site on the high promontory on the east bank of the river. Thus, on the order of Columbus began the foundation of the oldest city in the New World; the place where he and his brother were to be imprisoned by infamous Bobadilla, where today his bones are claimed to be held, and where the full force of the destructive West Indian hurricane of 1930 struck.
Several other cities say they hold the bones of the great discoverer, but Santo Domingo City, now renamed Ciudad Trujillo, seems to have the strongest point in the contention. The argument is this. The casket disinterred in 1795, and carried to Havana, contained the remains of Diego, Columbus’ son, but was thought to be the correct one because on it appeared the word “Colon.” In 1877 workmen making repairs in the cathedral unearthed a vault under the floor and found a leaden casket bearing the inscription on the inside: “Illustrious and noble Gentleman, Don Cristoval Colon.” The public is allowed to view this once yearly, on December 12, in the cathedral where a magnificent monument of carved marble guards it.
In the late summer of 1502, Columbus, making another voyage of discovery, put into the roadstead of Santo Domingo City to effect repairs on one of his caravels. The fleet taking the cashiered governor Bobadilla back to Spain stood ready to sail. Columbus seems to have been somewhat of a meteorologist, for he prophesied that a hurricane would soon hit the place. No faith was placed in his storm warning however, and the fleet with Bobadilla set sail. Columbus with his own vessels repaired to the sheltered Bay of Ocoa, 60 miles westward down the coast. The hurricane came, just as he foretold, in all the fury of those tropical storms, and overwhelmed Bobadilla’s fleet except two ships carrying home some property for Columbus—even his effects seemed charmed. The force of the wind completely demolished the little town of Santo Domingo City. Ovando, the new governor, rebuilt it on the west bank, considering the other side unlucky—cursed.
And that was nearly four and a half centuries ago. The works of man change. The elements remain the same. At that time news of the disaster required a month or so to reach the court of Spain; too late to send aid to the injured and homeless, victims of the storm. Now we have the information at once, and help is dispatched immediately by airplanes. In the days of the Inquisition and heretic burnings at the stake, when people were careful to have only orthodox religious thoughts, did one nation render succor to the inhabitants of a foreign country? There may be less religion technically today, but peoples seem more Christian in the true sense of the word.
The hurricane of 1930 did considerable damage to the Royal Valley in the interior, though it lost much of its force crossing the mountains. Near the town of La Vega, overlooking the Vega Real Valley, stands a small white cathedral crowning an abrupt isolated hill. It is known as the church of Santo Cerro. Once in 1920, I visited this church, and from its eminence, as I gazed over the fertile cultivated expanse, dotted with tall palms, the name royal seemed to describe the valley most fittingly; and I recalled the story of Columbus’ fight with the Indians there.
Legend has it that during his march from that first settlement of Isabella into the interior in 1495 he camped on this hill. His little band was shortly to engage an overwhelming force of Indians. He prayed for victory as a faithful warrior bearing the banners of Spain for his most Catholic Majesties, Isabella and Ferdinand. It was early morning. Suddenly he beheld a vision of the Virgin Mary on the mist-covered top of the hill and at once he made oath that if he came off victorious in the ensuing fight, he would erect a shrine to her on the peak. In the battle which followed, Columbus completely routed the Indians and saved his followers from probable annihilation. He set up a cross to mark the spot, and later a church was erected and called Santo Cerro, Sacred Hill. The present one replaced that church.
Many times, when flying in the early morning over the Royal Valley to Santiago from the capital, I have seen the valley full of cloud up to the edge of the surrounding mountains. Once through a rift in the fog, looking down from far above as I flew over, I saw the white towers of the church on the green top of Santo Cerro, appearing to be floating in the cloud. I wondered if it were not on a day with such a cloud condition as this that Columbus had his vision.
The discovery of Hispaniola brought great wealth and power to Spain and made her a world power for centuries. To the native Indians the discovery spelt annihilation, and proved a great curse for them. These mild-mannered Indians had previously engaged in no strenuous labors. Being suddenly put to work in gold mines, building forts, walled towns, and cathedrals broke the strength of their bodies. The transition from absolute freedom and leisure to a state of abject slavery under the taskmaster’s lash destroyed their spirit. Many who survived the killing work resorted to suicide in various forms to escape their unbearable fate. As early as 1514 the whole number of aborigines, which originally totaled more than a million beings, numbered only 14,000 persons! Even to them to whom it was home was Santo Domingo cursed.
To lighten or relieve the burden of slavery of the Indians, Father Las Casas, the famous priest, intervened with Ferdinand and at last, just before the King drew his last breath, he finally listened to the pleas of the priest, but too late to effect any immediate change in policy. Las Casas did secure authority to import African negroes into the island for slaves to do the work instead of the Indians. These negroes labored hard and received cruel treatment. To lash the bare back of a negro slave until it became raw flesh constituted one punishment. Then brine was poured on the wounds and the slave buried up to his neck in the ground so he would be healed by “the salve of earth.” As early as 1522 the slaves became sufficiently strong and numerous to mutiny on the plantation of none other than the governor himself. Though good Father Las Casas endeavored to relieve the sufferings of the Indians, by his very efforts another people came into such condition that Santo Domingo for them was cursed.
About this time the pompous and haughty ruler of the Aztecs, Montezuma, governed old Mexico from the palace fortress Chapultepec. The greedy war god, Huitzilopochtli, and other gods, yearly demanded as offerings for their favors 15,000 human sacrifices. After the priests cut the heart out of the living victim with an obsidian knife as he lay on the huge green sacrificial stone, they threw the bloody carcass to the people eagerly waiting below who cooked and fed upon it.
Lately Montezuma had beheld strange lights in the sky. Comets appeared. Mysterious fires burned in the great temples. He was mystified and exceedingly worried. The seers read in these omens the downfall of the empire. The thought troubled him, but he failed to fully comprehend it.
Now the mighty Cortez completed outfitted his expedition at Santo Domingo City, and prepared to sail westward for the land where Popocatepetl and Iztac- cihuatl raise their snow-covered peaks. History records the story. Thus Montezuma and his race felt the destructive curse of Hispaniola.
High up in the Andes at Cuzco, Inca princes ate tapioca from dishes of solid yellow gold. Celebrations and games extolling the recent victories of Atahuallpa over his half-brother, Huasgar Inca, had closed a short time past. Mothers, wives, and sweethearts still mourned the fallen warriors. The civil war had decimated all ranks. The future seemed now to hold only peace with its quiet joys. In the temple of the sun and moon, dazzling discs, wrought in the images of the gods, encrusted with jewels, shone with a splendor portending only success. Then came the Spaniard from Darien where he had crossed the narrow isthmus.
Ruthless Pizarro, keen, astute, indefatigable, led this small band of gold-hungry, bloodthirsty Christians. In the onslaughts against the unarmored Peruvians, the mailed and helmeted Spaniards on horseback, a sight fearful to the natives, butchered and slew until the streets often ran with blood. Their quest was gold. They got it. At one time, Atahuallpa paid as ransom for his life the room in which he was imprisoned filled as high with gold as he could reach.
Again, was not the island of Santo Domingo cursed of God for the Incas? But for its lure, Pizarro might never have left Spain. Its location made it an excellent advance base where followers could be recruited, and expeditions to other points on the coasts of the Spanish Main outfitted. The curse of Hispaniola struck Mexico and Peru; and boomeranged from them to itself. After the discovery of the other two countries and the enormous amount of gold they held, Spain’s interest in Santo Domingo waned rapidly, as a vampire bat for its victim whose blood it has sucked. Many families emigrated to seek riches and glory in the new countries, and Hispaniola quickly became decadent.
Acting on the orders of Queen Elizabeth, Sir Francis Drake, that famous English freebooter, attacked Santo Domingo City in 1586. After capturing the town he was able to burn less than a third of it, though 200 sailors labored at firing the buildings for eleven days. Finally, for the consideration of 25,000 ducats, he agreed to spare the remainder of the place. Five years later the English again descended upon the coasts of the island to plunder and pillage, in a kind of backhand attack on Spain; and the misfortunes following these depredations reduced the inhabitants to less than 15,000.
Roving ships of enemy nations preying on the commerce of Spain now filled the Spanish Main. Trade practically ceased between Hispaniola and the mother country. The island fast became poverty stricken. Many families moved from the country, leaving their fields uncultivated, their plantations in a state of ruin and decay.
When Cromwell declared war on Spain in 1654, the English made their first and last attempt to establish a colony in Santo Domingo. A squadron of vessels with 9,000 men reached the capital in April, 1655, separating into two parts to attack the town from both sides simultaneously. By strenuous counterthrusts and strategy the defending Spaniards routed the British forces who withdrew to sail for Jamaica. Even the doughty Britons could not be permanently successful in Santo Domingo.
The appointment of Don Pedro Zorillo as governor of Santo Domingo in 1737 opened a brief era of prosperity. He threw open the ports to foreign trade and began to work the long abandoned mines. But the old curse still hung over the island. Hardly had the good effects of these acts been felt than a disastrous earthquake shook the country in 1751, causing much damage and suffering, and the Ozama rose, flooding part of the city. But the people bore through these troubles nobly. Conditions once more looked better. An influx of families from the Canary Islands swelled the number of inhabitants. Privateers preying on the shipping of countries at war with Spain caused an increase of commerce, for the goods and merchandise came to Santo Domingo City to be sold and traded. Agriculture began to revive.
Then with little warning broke the most terrible human upheaval the island of Hispaniola has ever witnessed: the revolt of the blacks, the slaves of the French plantation owners. The western portion of the island had been ceded to France in 1697 by Spain in the terms of the peace of Ryswick. With fairly rapid colonization, and the intensive cultivation of coffee, indigo, cane, and cotton by the ceaseless labors of multitudes of slaves, the little colony had developed in the short space of 94 years into the richest over-seas possession of the French monarchy.
A few dark clouds of minor uprisings and revolts of slaves scudded across the tranquil sky of the prosperous colony of Saint Domingue before the human hurricane began to lash the country in 1791. The guiding spirit of the revolution of the blacks was Toussaint L’Overture, a former slave, claiming descent from a line of ruling black chiefs in Africa.
Marauding bands of yoke-free slaves attacked and pillaged plantations in every part of the colony. The whites were tortured and ruthlessly massacred in every conceivable manner by the bloodthirsty hordes, while their beautiful habitations were fired to complete the desolation.
Such families as could, emigrated. Those thus fortunate, who had reached the height of prosperity and known every luxury, reached other parts of the West Indies and Lousiana as subjects for charity. The French colonists of Saint Domingue had enjoyed an unprecedented degree of success. The curse of Hispaniola withered and consumed them.
This peculiar Nemesis in following its course affected at this time not only the western part of the island, but rebounded to another catastrophe in the Spanish portion. With the cessation of hostilities between the two countries, Spain, by treaty in 1795, gave to the French Republic the remainder of the island. The new republic was represented in Saint Domingue by Commissioner Roume, but Toussaint L’Overture held the actual power. Having mastered the French colony by leading the revolted slaves, the black general desired to be in command of the whole island. In 1800 he demanded that General Garcia, the Governor, turn over to him the control of the Spanish part, in accordance with the treaty of 1795. Garcia refused.
After a while Toussaint started two armies of 10,000 men each against Santo Domingo City. The Governor-General feared Spain would not back up his action of failing to comply, and opened the gates of the capital to L’Overture, who entered peacefully and took charge in the name of the French Republic.
This action placed the whole island under black rule and prosperity began to return to the western part. The future appeared better than for ten years.
How long would such favorable conditions exist? If Toussaint L’Overture had remained chief of the island, history might have recorded a different story from what is written, but even the Chief of the Blacks fell under the spell of the curse.
In Europe the British had made peace with Bonaparte. The victorious First Consul now considered the colony France had lost by the revolt of the slaves. He decided to regain it. Le Clerc, his brother-in-law through marriage with the beautiful Pauline, took command of an army of 25,000 troops to carry out the mission. Acting on the instructions of Napoleon, Le Clerc had Toussaint arrested in his home on a plantation near Gonaives and sent as a prisoner to France, where he died in a dungeon a year later.
Veterans of Napoleon’s armies made up Le Clerc’s forces. They had been victorious on the battlefields of Europe. In the isle of Santo Domingo the god of luck forsook them. The nature of the climate, duplicity of the black chiefs, and yellow fever combined to defeat and annihilate them. Even Napoleon could not beat the curse, and so failed to bring the colony back to the bosom of France.
The blacks wrested their freedom from the French and renamed the colony of Saint Domingue, Haiti. The declaration took place on January 1, 1804, at Gonaives. The Dominicans finally won their independence from the Haitians in 1844, and declared the old Spanish part, the State of Santo Domingo, or Republica Dominicana. What success has followed?
In Haiti the burden of slavery was removed from 450,000 blacks, but hand in hand with their freedom has gone ruin, desolation, and poverty. The jungle long ago has been allowed to take the roads and irrigation canals, the coffee plantations and cane plantations. The Spanish portion, Santo Domingo, has fared little better.
Since 1804, in both parts, minor revolutions or civil strife between strong leaders anxious to secure the reins of government have kept each country bankrupt, retarded agriculture, and hindered commerce. This condition has only ceased in very recent years.
The 1930 hurricane swept down upon Santo Domingo, struck the capital head on, killed thousands of people, and destroyed a large part of it.
The charm of Santo Domingo is apparent to all who have seen its broad savannas, lofty forested mountains, clear streams, and fertile valleys with encircling palm-fringed coasts. With all this and the peace and security it now enjoys, it would seem a happy spot in which to dwell. The baffling question is, why the curse?