Untitled

Crossing the Continent 1527–1540
The Story of the First African-American Explorer of the American
South
Robert Goodwin
Los “mulatos” de Esmeraldas, by Adrián Sánchez Galque (c. 1599). (Courtesy of Museo de
América, Madrid, Spain)
For Liz
Contents
List of Illustrations
Acknowledgments
Main Characters
Chronology
Introduction
Part One
Storytelling
1536
1 Journey’s End
The First Crossing of America, 1536
2 Camino Real
The Royal Road to Mexico City, 1536
3 Mexico City
July 1536
4 Fiesta
July 1536
Part Two
Esteban
5 “Negro AlÁrabe”
6 “Natural de Azamor”
The Slave Trade
7 Jerez
1522
8 Seville
1522–1527
Part Three
Writing History
9 Oviedo and Cabeza de Vaca
10 Dorantes and The Archive of the Indies
Part Four
The Expedition to Florida
1527–1536
11 Atlantic Crossing
1527
12 Cuba
1527–1528
13 Florida
1528
14 The Isle of Misfortune
1528–1529
15 Texas
1529–1533
16 Shamanism
1533–1535
17 The Rio Grande
1535
Part Five
The Seven Cities of Gold
1536–1539
18 Friar Marcos de Niza
1536–1538
19 Francisco VÁzquez de Coronado
1538–1539
20 Chronicles of Esteban’s Death
Epilogue: Resurrection
Bibliography of Sources
Notes
Searchable Terms
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Los “mulatos” de Esmeraldas, by Adrián Sánchez Galque (c. 1599). (Courtesy of Museo de América,
Madrid, Spain)
The Gulf of Mexico (c. 1519). (Courtesy of Archivo General de Indias; MP México 5)
The Plaza Mayor of Mexico City (c. 1551). (Courtesy of Archivo General de Indias; MP México 3)
Azemmour, from Georg Braun and Franz Hogenberg, Civitates orbis terrarum (1572). (Courtesy of
the Jewish National and University Library, Shapell Family Digitalization Project and the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem, Department of Geography, Historic Cities Project)
Coat of Arms of Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca (1542). (Courtesy of Archivo General de Indias; MP
Buenos Aires 220)
The Rio Grande above Big Bend, Texas (2006). (Courtesy of Elizabeth Jones)
The Gulf of Mexico (c. 1544). (Courtesy of Archivo General de Indias; MP México 1)
Dowa Yalanne, Corn Mountain (2006). (Courtesy of the author)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ESPECIAL THANKS GO to Barry Ife, a good friend and an inspiring teacher with a terrifying work ethic,
and to Trudi Darby for all her support. The British Academy supported some of my research in Seville
out of which the idea for this book was born. Paul Hoffman offered timely encouragement. The staff
of the Archivo General de Indias makes it an exceptional place to work, y se lo agradezco
especialmente a Pilar Lázaro de la Escosura la búsqueda del Santo Domingo 11 43 bis.
I must thank Alicia Ríos for introducing me to Michael Jacobs, to whom I am deeply indebted for
years of encouragement, for introducing me to George Miller, who introduced me to my agent
Rebecca Winfield, who is a credit to a much maligned profession. Louise, Arthur, and Elizabeth Jones
read early drafts of the manuscript and made very helpful suggestions, while Claire Wachtel’s erudite
and critically incisive editing was a pleasure to work with. Thanks to everyone else at HarperCollins
in New York, especially Julia Novich for fielding my various grumbles. It was essential that Romolo,
Claudio, and Tom kept me fed. Thanks to Nick for his company on all those Mexican buses and trains.
En Sevilla, Ana María Rengel, Manu, Javi, Bea, Cristina, Manuel, y Ana me recibieron como otro
más de la familia y me ofrecieron el Porvenir como mi propio hogar sevillano. Gracias. También me
presentaron a Jim, Jana, Emilio, y Andrea Anaya, mis cariñosos an fitriones en Tucson, ¡Viva el
chihuahua! En Madrid, Cuqui y Jesús me han recibido con los brazos y las puertas abiertos. Gracias
por todo a David, Carolina, Pedro y Isa, Anchy y Miguel, Lupe, Loly, Jesús, y las Glorias, los Luises,
Carmen, Pilar, Falique y Teresa, los Perales y Pepe.
My journey to Zuni with Jim Anaya and Rob Williams was unforgettable. Ed Wemytewa and Jim
Enote were amazingly kind and forthcoming, and Tom Kennedy was a gracious host. Sonahchi?
Thanks to everyone at Zuni, especially the basketball team. Good luck. Gracias a Miguel por los
elotes, a Wilfredo por la aventura del Río Fuerte, y a Omar y Odette en Oaxaca.
And a very special thank you to Jim Read, who first drew my attention to Cabeza de Vaca’s
account and the story of the Narváez expedition.
MAIN CHARACTERS
Note: Each person is generally referred to by the italicized portion of his name.
Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, Charles I of Castillo, the most powerful man in the
world.
Pánfilo Narváez, Captain General and Governor of Florida. Esteban, an African slave.
Andrés Dorantes de Carranza, Esteban’s owner, a captain on the expedition to Florida.
Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca, treasurer of the expedition to Florida, author of Shipwrecks.
Alonso del Castillo Maldonado, a captain on the expedition to Florida, a doctor’s son.
Nuño Beltrán de Guzmán, an “evil” conquistador.
Diego de Alcaraz and Lázaro de Cebreros, Guzmán’s henchmen.
Melchior Díaz, captain at Culiacán.
Antonio de Mendoza, Viceroy of Mexico.
Hernán Cortés, conqueror of Mexico.
Juan de Zumárraga, Archbishop and Inquisitor of Mexico.
Juan Garrido, a free African, resident of Mexico City.
Friar Marcos de Niza, a Franciscan monk, religious leader of the expedition to the Seven Cities of
Gold.
Francisco Vázquez de Coronado, Mendoza’s right-hand man.
Gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo y Valdés, Charles V’s Historian Royal.
CHRONOLOGY
c.
Esteban is born in Africa.
1500
c.
Esteban arrives in Spain.
1522
1527 Narváez’s expedition sails from Spain for the Caribbean.
1528 Easter: expedition lands near Tampa Bay.
1528 Fall: survivors land on Malhado, probably Galveston Island, Texas; disease strikes.
A handful of survivors live with the Karankawa Indians of the Texas coast.
1533 Only four men left alive: Esteban, Dorantes, Castillo, and Cabeza de Vaca.
1534 The four leave the Karankawa and head inland.
1535
The four travel through northeast Mexico, go up the Rio Grande, turn west at El Paso, spend
Christmas at Corazones.
1536 March: the four meet Spanish slavers in northwest Mexico, reach Mexico City.
July: the four make their official report in Mexico City.
1537 February: Cabeza de Vaca and Dorantes try to sail for Spain.
August: Cabeza de Vaca lands at Lisbon and goes to the Spanish court.
November–December: Dorantes returns to Mexico after months lost at sea.
1538 Winter: Dorantes appointed as captain of cavalry for the expedition to the Seven Cities.
Summer: Dorantes is sidelined; Esteban is appointed as a “guide” and military leader of the
expedition to the Seven Cities; Marcos de Niza is appointed as religious leader.
Fall: expedition to the Seven Cities leaves Mexico.
1539 Easter: Esteban leaves Marcos at Vacapa in northeastern Mexico.
Spring: Esteban reaches Zuni Pueblos, known as the Seven Cities of Cibola.
Summer–fall: Marcos returns to Mexico City reporting Esteban’s death.
Fall: Mendoza organizes a major expedition to the Seven Cities, commanded by Coronado.
1540 Coronado reaches Zuni Pueblos; further reports of Esteban’s death
INTRODUCTION
The earliest known map of the Gulf of Mexico (c. 1519). The River and Bay of the Holy
Spirit (“Río del Espíritu Santo”) is the last feature labeled toward the west of the north coast
of the gulf. (Courtesy of Archivo General de Indias; MP México 5)
“Look at Odysseus’s journey or Jason’s voyage or the labors of Hercules, they are but
fiction and fable. So read them as such for that is how they should be read. And do not
admire the wonders in them, for they bear no comparison with the hardships of these
sinners, who traveled such an unhappy road.”
(Fernández de Oviedo, Spanish Historian Royal, c. 1540)
THIS IS THE story of how history is written, the history of Esteban’s story, and also the tale of the first
men in history to cross North America. It is a narrative of uncertainty, conjecture, and historical truth.
HISTORY IS THE origin myth of the white man. It tells us about our ancestors, their heroes and wars,
about how we came to live as we do, about our gods and our morality. It defines our values and
reveres our political institutions. It offers a continuous story of our civilization, from ancient Greece
and Rome right up to the foundation of our own nation-states. I write, evidently enough, from the
perspective of my own personal history.
We were taught from childhood that history is the true story of the past, based on facts. We
learned that it is not the historian’s job to dramatize his story in order to make it exciting. We learned
that the historian’s style of writing should be a little bit boring, for he must let the facts speak for
themselves. It is his job to tell the truth, only the truth, and as much of the truth as he can. As the great
Spanish novelist Miguel de Cervantes explained in 1615:
A poet may speak or sing of events, not as they really happened, but as they should have
been; but the historian must write down events, not as they should have been, but as they
really happened, neither embellishing nor suppressing anything that is true.
And yet we might pause to question if that is possible. How do we know that history is fact? How does
a historian know that what he tells us is true?
As we all learned, as soon as our parents dared to let us know such things, any story we are told
may be true or false. We learned quickly to talk of “tall stories” with a hint of smile, and we even
praise a “good story,” with something of a wink in our eye. These are the tales traditionally told by
hunters, fishermen, soldiers, and other travelers. These are the stories that are based on facts but which
are embellished with fiction. Such stories are entertaining, but more often than not they are also the
boasts of a hero who tells his own tale. For which reason, we do not believe him. But do we believe
him if the heroes of his stories are his parents, or his grandparents?
What should we make of the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table? Clearly,
it is not factual history, with its magical swords and invincible heroes, but what kind of story is it?
How many of us are bold enough to say it is not true? How different is what we know about King
Arthur from what we know of George Washington or Billy the Kid?
In recent years, many historians have been intrigued by this new manifesto of self-doubt, while
others have exploded with apoplexy at this revolution from within their subject. In order to understand
the history of how historians have arrived at this collective sense of uncertainty, it is useful to look
briefly at some of the different ways in which the history of the Spanish conquest of Mexico has been
written—not least because to do so also helps to explain the background to the story I am going to tell
in this book.
Probably the most influential work written in English about this subject is The History of the
Conquest of Mexico by William Hickling Prescott (1796–1859). As a law student in Boston, he was
blinded by a youthful prank and was forced to give up the law. Fortunately, he instead turned his
attention to writing history. He is said to have had such a prodigious memory that he was able to
compose the chapters for his books while out riding in the morning and then write them up in the
afternoon, using a special writing contraption for the blind which he had bought in London. His
writing style suggests that he had a formidable personality, and he wrote history with a strong sense of
drama and great literary flair. What he saw in his mind’s eye more than made up for the real world he
could not see.
Prescott was perhaps the most brilliant historian of his age, but he was also very much a child of
his time and of the patrician social class into which he was born. As a result, his account is an
aristocratic drama about his central character, Hernán Cortés, the commander of the first European
army to march into Mexico and reach the Aztec capital, in 1519. Prescott used the work of many
Spanish historians who had glorified Cortés, but he set particular store by the letters that Cortés
himself sent back to Spain describing his discoveries and conquests. Yet was Prescott right to believe
what Cortés had written? Did he stop to wonder critically enough why Cortés wrote them? Did a
Spanish general have any reason to tell the truth?
Yes and no. The basics are certainly true. A small force of Spaniards, perhaps as many as 1,500,
seized control of the mighty Aztec Empire. But Cortés was also a turncoat and a rebel who had
betrayed his own superior, the governor of Cuba appointed by the Spanish crown. Cortés wrote his
letters in order to prove that he was no traitor to his sovereign, the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V,
king of Spain, to convince Charles that he done nothing wrong and was in fact an imperial hero. But he
also wrote in order to dazzle the Spanish court with a brilliant story of bravery and fabulous wealth,
and he took care to send those letters to Spain along with tangible proof of his success in the form of
gold and silver.
Cortés’s letters tell a story that is ideal material for a man like Prescott with a strong sense of
republican patrician honor. An inspiring and rebellious general drawn from the gentry led a small
army of intrepid soldiers to an astonishing and glorious victory won against all odds over a great
empire. They founded a new “republic,” full of hope. God had clearly been on their side. As a parable,
it suited Prescott and it suited America. But is it too good to be true? After all, how did a handful of
Spaniards conquer the great Aztec Empire? It sounds more like an Arthurian legend than fact.
As the western world became more democratic, explanations for the conquest of Mexico began to
embrace the humble as well as the mighty. The history of Mexico came to be seen through the eyes of
one of the less important soldiers in Cortés’s army, Bernal Díaz del Castillo. Díaz wrote his True
History of the Conquest of New Spain in the 1550s because he was outraged that Cortés had contrived
to claim all the glory for himself in the official account. But the True History was left unpublished
until more egalitarian historians took an interest during the nineteenth century, welcoming Díaz’s