The burial ground at St. Joseph, clustering close to the old
church, keeps many secrets. Some of its grave stones are enigmatic and for
Trinidad extremely old.
Beneath the church itself, or strictly speaking beneath the
church upon which the present one now stands, this being built in 1815,
lies the grave of a Bishop
martyred in the upper reaches of the Orinoco 273 years ago by a Carib cacique
named Taguaria.
In 1729, the island of Trinidad was quiet and peaceful. Its
handful of Spanish colonists, mostly living in or near to its capital San José
de Oruna, lived out an indolent life whose tedium was only occasionally
punctuated by the odd massacre perpetrated by the Caribs, who had by now grown disgusted at being
coerced into accepting a civilisation that they did not admire and a religion
unsuited to their natural state of cannibalism.
The staple crop, cocoa, was suffering from blight. The
government was in the hands of a capable and active governor, Don Augustin de
Arredonda, who had guided the destinies of this island for the past four years.
The town of San José was first marked out in 1592 by Don Domingo de Vera y
Bargoen. He marked out first the site of the church which he named Nuestra
Santa Fe de la Conception. Highly biodegradable, the "city" had been
built of tapia, sirite and mud; an ajoupa community on the banks of the Caroni,
in the middle of literally nowhere, in as much as the few maps that did exist
in the world did not mention it. It had neither grown nor changed in the 137
years of its beginnings.
When on the 10th February, 1729, its Governor Don Augustine
received a letter from the illustrious Bishop Don Nicolas Gervasio, which
reported his arrival at San Tomé, on the river Orinoco, and his intentions as
Apostolic Commissary, "to establish missions among the Indians of this
river, the Paria Coast and Caribbean islands". He claimed the right to do
this by virtue of an Apostolic Bull from His Holiness, the Pope.
It would be very difficult to convey to the present reader
the nature of this wilderness, the remoteness of the Orinoco region and the
obscurity of its inhabitants. Dignitaries of the rank of Bishop were very
uncommon visitors to these parts. The province of Guyana was then part of the
government of Trinidad, and in view of the visit of such a distinguished personage, the governor summoned in due
and ancient form at San José an assembly of the Illustrious Cabildo conjoined
with the highest ecclesiastical representatives in the island.
At this "junta", this strange event was fully
discussed, and finally it was agreed unanimously that the Governor himself
should go at once to San Tomé to deal with the exceptional complications which
might arise. With due pomp and ceremonial, he set out in a flotilla of corials
and pirogues with banners flying, his armor of the finest Andalusian steel well
oiled against the inevitable sea blast, across the Gulf of Paria and down the
coast of present-day Venezuela, they sailed to enter the vast delta of the
Orinoco River so as to make their way up to the tiny hamlet of San Tomé.
San Tomé was built as the mirror city to San José in
Trinidad in 1592 by Don Antonio de Berrio, during the time of his life when he
had quested after the gold of El Dorado. On the morning of March 22nd, 1729, from
out of a primeval mist that hovered over the vast river, the governor's party
emerged to beach their craft in the mangrove swamp near to the mud and thatch
city of San Tomé and there to meet the illustrious Bishop, who presented his
papers of authority and identification for inspection. From these it appeared
that the Bishop was a Frenchman, being a Canon of Lyons. A Bull from Pope
Benedict XIII, dated 27th July, 1726, authorised the Bishop to establish
missions. Included also was a letter from the Marquis de Champignon,
Governor-General of Martinique, dated January 8th, 1729, showing that the
Bishop had arrived in the French Antilles. Unfortunately, nowhere was the
document essential for residence in the Spanish dominions, a certificate that
the permission of the King of Spain had to grant specifically. In his zeal, the
church man had over looked its necessity.
The duty of the governor was plain, and he refused the
Bishop any facilities to proceed with his inclinations, and forbade him to
found missions anywhere within his government. Anxious, however, to assist the
distinguished visitor so far as lay within his power, Don Augustin offered the
Bishop the accommodation at San José in Trinidad, where he could wait until the
Royal Pleasure should be made known. This the Bishop declined, preferring in
his enthusiasm to proceed towards the Dutch settlements in the upper reaches of
the Essequibo River, where he hoped for a better reception.
The following morning they parted. The Bishop, tall,
distinguished, handsome for his age, stood mitered and robed, his shepherd's
staff in hand, as hordes of multi-coloured macaws gawked and stared and
shrieked in ridicule in a language comprehensible only to the man-eating Caribs
who, having assumed invisibility in the surrounding jungle, were awaiting their
turn in the events.
The governor returned to San José in Trinidad, pardonably
satisfied that he had dealt tactfully and successfully with what might have
been an awkward situation. However, his peace of mind did not survive many
months, since November 11, 1729, the Teniente at San Tomé sent to inform him
that Aruac Indians had brought the news that the French Bishop Gervasio had
been to the Essequibo and even further to the Suriname, but at neither place
would the Dutch receive him or allow him to begin his religious obligations.
The Bishop had returned along the coast and had settled on the River Aquire at
the mouth of the Orinoco and within the Spanish dominions. The Teniente added
very significantly that his camp is only one day's journey from the Carib
villages. It should be noted that this journey, even by today's means, would be
regarded as significant.
Through this vast and ancient jungle, dark even at noon,
followed by the flock of shrieking macaws, howled at by hordes of huge red
monkeys, impervious to giant anacondas or the yellow icy stares of black
jaguars, the Bishop and his party of Negro bearers had passed before the
startled eyes of the man eaters, camouflaged in their nakedness, standing as
still as the effigies of dead kings in the crypts of St. Denis, the cathedral
just outside of Paris, where he had experienced ecstasies during his noviate.
The Caribs were an intractable and warlike people. They were
proud and dominating and preferred death to subjugation. Throughout history,
the Caribs have always been indomitable and implacable opponents of all
invaders. The early conquistadors such as Ordaz, Herrera, Sedeño, Juan de Uppin
and many others found in the Caribs valiant and worthy opponents, and only to
often the Spaniards suffered disastrous defeats.
The Bishop's incursion had come at a time when the great
cacique Taguaria, perhaps one of the last great old ones, had assumed power. He
made as his territory a vast landscape, comparable to the size of Belgium, and
viewed the tall, pale Bishop, ascetic in his habits, aristocratic in his
mannerism, as worthy of his digestion. To assimilate such a one would make him
as great a one and in so doing he would subsume the aliens who had invaded his
world.
At the beginning of December 1729, a Dutch trader from the
Essequibo River, Jan Ravensburg, had been going to the River Aquire to trade
with the Caribs, when he found the dead and mutilated body of the Prelate, his
two Chaplains and the two Negro bearers. Jan Ravensburg brought back to
Essequibo certain books and ornaments which he found in a hut nearby. Missing
from the Bishop's body were certain vital organs.
Once again Don Augustin journeyed into the wilds of the
South America's second-largest river system. Here the Governor disinterred the
body of the Bishop which he brought reverently to San José in Trinidad, where
it was buried in the church of that town and where it remains to this day.
(based on a story by K.S. Wise)
