Also keep in mind that, beyond the Caribbean, there isn't as much of a precedent for conquest. Colonialism here is taking place in an entirely different context.
Where the River Flows: The Story of Misia: A Native American Superpower
- Thread starter JSilvy
- Start date
Chapter 15: Power, Ports, Persecutions, Pirates, and Protestants
Chapter 15: Plains, Ports, Projects, Persecutions, Pirates, and Protestants
It was unmistakably an Isapanol ship. The Spanish flag was not there, but it was very clearly not an Ihnelish vessel.
Policies had changed since the Spanish invasion. No mysterious ship could simply enter Shawasha harbor, and with an indigenous navy unlike any seen before in the history of the Americas, the Misians were able to stop and board the ship offshore. The crew of the ship looked quite similar to the men who had invaded six years prior, and they spoke a similar language. Yet, they were rather modestly dressed, and searching the stowage of the ship, there was little in the way of arms. There also appeared to be no other nearby ships. When they were interrogated as to their origin, the men responded back in the language of the Isapanoliaki and referenced the island of Kubao in their language, yet they seemed to refer to themselves not as Isapanoles, but as Hutiyos. Perhaps these men were spies, yet they seemed to be pleading desperately in a language that the Sipikapia’s agents did not understand well.
After holding the captain of the boat on the ground at gunpoint for over an hour, Tuchutwah, the Sipikapia of Misia’s greatest port, stepped onto the ship. Tuchutwah was a native of Shawasha and a friend of the city’s previous Sipikapia who did not survive the war, and of all people, he was one to be bitter and distrustful of the Isapanoliaki. Still, his trauma and hatred had also driven him to ensure protection against these thalassocratic barbarians, and from books provided by the Ihnelish and captives taken during the war, he was able to intensively study and learn their language as well as anything else he could about their entire culture. As he stepped forward in his blue silk robe he instructed the agent in front of him to step to the side and ordered the captain to come up from the floor to his knees.
“Who are you?” the Sipikapia demanded. “Who sent you? Where are you from, and why are you here? Are you an agent of the Spanish?”
He could see that the man before him was trembling in genuine fear.
“I am from what they call Spain,” he said, “But I am not of Spain, I am of Sepharad. My men and I have no loyalty to Spain. We are Jews, seeking refuge from the Spanish. They are our enemy just as much as yours.”
The agent kept the gun aimed at the man’s head. The man’s eyes began to well up.
“Please, we have nowhere else to go. The Inquisition has come to Cuba.”
Policies had changed since the Spanish invasion. No mysterious ship could simply enter Shawasha harbor, and with an indigenous navy unlike any seen before in the history of the Americas, the Misians were able to stop and board the ship offshore. The crew of the ship looked quite similar to the men who had invaded six years prior, and they spoke a similar language. Yet, they were rather modestly dressed, and searching the stowage of the ship, there was little in the way of arms. There also appeared to be no other nearby ships. When they were interrogated as to their origin, the men responded back in the language of the Isapanoliaki and referenced the island of Kubao in their language, yet they seemed to refer to themselves not as Isapanoles, but as Hutiyos. Perhaps these men were spies, yet they seemed to be pleading desperately in a language that the Sipikapia’s agents did not understand well.
After holding the captain of the boat on the ground at gunpoint for over an hour, Tuchutwah, the Sipikapia of Misia’s greatest port, stepped onto the ship. Tuchutwah was a native of Shawasha and a friend of the city’s previous Sipikapia who did not survive the war, and of all people, he was one to be bitter and distrustful of the Isapanoliaki. Still, his trauma and hatred had also driven him to ensure protection against these thalassocratic barbarians, and from books provided by the Ihnelish and captives taken during the war, he was able to intensively study and learn their language as well as anything else he could about their entire culture. As he stepped forward in his blue silk robe he instructed the agent in front of him to step to the side and ordered the captain to come up from the floor to his knees.
“Who are you?” the Sipikapia demanded. “Who sent you? Where are you from, and why are you here? Are you an agent of the Spanish?”
He could see that the man before him was trembling in genuine fear.
“I am from what they call Spain,” he said, “But I am not of Spain, I am of Sepharad. My men and I have no loyalty to Spain. We are Jews, seeking refuge from the Spanish. They are our enemy just as much as yours.”
The agent kept the gun aimed at the man’s head. The man’s eyes began to well up.
“Please, we have nowhere else to go. The Inquisition has come to Cuba.”
***
Mihsiwahk was triumphant. The Spanish, for decades now a major threat in the eyes of the Kilsu regime, had been defeated in open conflict. And now, hopefully, would be a time of peace.
On land, peace would require the Misians to fight off attackers from the nomadic peoples to the west. Historically, these people were often significantly weaker than the Misians, but now the horse was beginning to make its way to the Great Plains. Following a series of raids made by men on horseback, the Misians would begin a campaign throughout the 1500s of hunting down encampments of marauders and burning them down, but often took more casualties overall than their attackers. The largest of these conflicts would be the Numunu-Karankawa Wars. The Karankawa were a people living along the coast between Misia and the Kotsui River that had throughout their history been controlled by the Misians, adopting the broader Misian culture albeit with its own regional differences, being rather removed from the Mississippian heartland. In more recent centuries, the land had been attacked by a Nawa tribe with a religion and culture somewhat similar to that of Mesoamerica. The Karankawa had lived under a united Nawa-ruled kingdom until the Great Death, in which most of the leadership died and the kingdom fractured into squabbling coastal city states. In the late 1550s, an expansionist Numunu League would begin expanding in the arid and semi-arid grasslands north and east of the Kotsoi River, raiding independent settled tribes who farmed along rivers as well as larger civilized peoples, such as the Dinei and the Karankawa. The leaders of different Karankawa towns would write to Cahoqua and Tenochtitlan for assistance. The Kilsu and the Meshica would both lead a campaign against the Numunu in the early to mid 1560s, splitting the Karankawa lands between them with the Kilsu taking the majority. The Dinei, meanwhile, would seize more of the hinterland, particularly along the river.
Peace at sea, of course, would have to come through greater naval strength. Although the Kilsu had possessed an admirable fleet, it was not enough to protect themselves from the Spanish. The Misians therefore expanded their shipyards in their southern port cities. In particular, Shawasha, Mabila, and Kiawah would become the largest ship-building cities, constructing European-style ships. These ships would first be put to the test in 1540 when fighting between French and English ships broke out off Misia's Atlantic coast. Word travelled to the Emperor, who demanded that he would not allow any foreign power to restrict trade on Misia’s oceanic ports. As the fighting continued, a fleet set out from Kiawah led by Captain Wichawah Nunti that successfully surrounded the fleet and brought them into Kiawah. Messengers set by the emperor delivered an edict barring the English from stopping the French from trading at their ports. Thankful to the English for their alliance, the Misians would allow the English to trade freely without any tariffs, tariffs that were still applied to the French. Following the Edict of Kiawah, the French began to establish a presence in Kiawah and Yamacraw, although the English would continue to hold a monopoly on the ports of the northeast. The settlement of this dispute and the assertion of Misian sovereignty would be considered the last of the great achievements of Emperor Mamantwensah, who would die in 1543 at the age of 68. He would be succeeded by his son, Manawesquah II.
Kiawah and Yamacraw would both undergo a boom during this period with the rise of trans-Atlantic trade becoming more important by the year. However, even greater developments had been taking place further north. The Haudenosaunee now had an empire stretching from the Great Lakes to ports of the Eastern Seaboard and wished to connect the two regions. The Grand Council had secured an agreement from the Misians for support in the construction of a canal, and the English would also agree to support the project. The question that remained was where. The Haudenosaunee knew that they wanted to connect Lake Eriron to Lake Ontario, but there was debate as to whether to construct the canal to the west side or east side of the Ogniara River. The west side would be shorter, but would involve a more extreme slope, while the east side would be longer yet on a more controlled slope, and would also have the benefit of passing through lands controlled by the Haudenosaunee prior to the arrival of the English. There was also an issue of how to connect the Great Lakes to the Muhekantuck River, which emptied into the Atlantic at Manhattan. Some suggested connecting this river to Lake Kaniatara to the north, which was itself connected to the Wepistuk River, bringing trade through the city of Kawanoteh, an idea mostly popular among the Kanienkeha sachems of the east. Meanwhile, the rest of the sachems preferred a longer canal that would pass through their lands in order to keep trade more secure from potential Wabanaki interference, which was a major motivation for easing transit to their own ports in the first place. These sachems would also cite the fact that a more southerly route may be less likely to freeze in the winter, a fact which would be pitched to both Cahoqua and St. John’s to receive their support. In order to achieve a consensus, the Council agreed to construct the Ogniara Canal east of the river, and would build both the Cheektowaga Canal and the Kaniatara Canal.
To construct the canal, the Haudenosaunee would receive partial aid from both the Misians and the English. Seeing an advantage in the project, Mamantwensah would send his best engineers in late 1523 to oversee the construction of the project. Due to a shortage of cheap labor, the Haudenosaunee would purchase African slaves from the English, who in turn bought them from the Portuguese, in order to construct the canal. Most of the slaves that came to work on the canal would die due to a combonation of exhaustion, abuse, unsafe working conditions, and an inability to deal with the cold Haudenosaunee winter. Many of the sachems of the Grand Council were appalled by the conditions of the slaves, but due to the desire for these infrastructure projects, there was never enough of a consensus among them to liberate the slaves. For the thousands of survivors alive at the end of the construction in 1534, the Grand Council generally agreed to let them go free and accept them among their numbers, although they would not be able to vote for another generation. Many of the former slaves would intermarry. While some slavery would continue to exist primarily in the coastal ports working on the docks, this dark portion of Haudenosaunee history would often go forgotten to history.
It is also worth noting that, due to slavery in North America, the mid to late 1520s also saw the spread of malaria from Spanish Calusa into the rest of the eastern portion of the continent, primarily around the southern coastal swamplands. While deadly, it was quickly discovered in the particularly miserable summer of 1527 that kina, a common medicine made from the bark of the tropical American tree of the same name, was able to successfully combat the disease. This knowledge quickly spread, nipping the potential pandemic in the bud. The increased demand for kina in the following years would provide an economic boon to the Meshica Empire and French Mouisca, which were the primary exporters. Around this time, the Misians and Tsenacommacans would also purchase some slaves to work in the tobacco fields, but this was generally on a small scale.
Returning to the topic of trade, the two most important cities for trade would become Shawasha, which had historically been Misia’s most important port city, and Manhattan, which would explode in wealth and population during the construction of the canal and following its completion. Both Shawasha and Manhattan would see a large influx of merchants both from Europe as well as from nearby lands. Being the largest port on the eastern seaboard, Manhattan would also dominate the other captured cities culturally. Munsey Lenape, which was already used as a lingua franca among nearby coastal peoples, would remain the lingua franca of the Haudenosaunee coastal territories. The city of Manhattan, which originally just sat at the southern tip of the island bearing the same name, would gradually begin to expand up the island, the first city to do so since the Great Death. New homes, markets, administrative centers, and Midewigams were built, as was a thriving English community. However, perhaps even more interesting was the fact that as much as a third of the non-native population of Shawasha and half of the non-native population of Manhattan was Jewish.
North American Jews, often referred to as Maaravim, were mostly made up of Sephardic exiles coming from Europe. While some small populations of Jewish merchants would work and live among the English, they generally maintained a low profile. While there were small Jewish congregations in St. John’s, the first true synagogue to be built in the New World was the Kahal B’nai Israel synagogue in Manhattan built in 1518, which then moved to a larger building in 1532 due to the rapidly increasing Jewish population. Sekharya Halefi, an early member of the congregation, would even be a member of the conscripts that went to fight the Spanish in Misia, leading a small contingent of fellow Jews eager to stick it to the Spanish. In Shawasha, the first Jewish communities would come later. In 1528, a ship filled with crypto-Jewish conversos from Havana arrived in Shawasha fleeing the Spanish Inquisition, which had arrived in Cuba earlier that year. The Jews were held at gunpoint offshore by the Misian navy until the well-educated Sipikapia Tuchutwah, who understood Spanish and learned about the circumstances of the Spanish Inquisition, allowed the Jews to settle in the city, establishing the first permanent Jewish community in Misia. Tuchutwah and Emperor Mamantwensah would both come to be remembered fondly in Jewish history.
The Jewish population, particularly in Shawasha, was treated generally with suspicion. Misia had recently fought a war to get rid of the Spanish, a war in which Shawasha was directly affected, and now there were men who came from the same place and spoke the same language living in their city. In May 1529, a group of Misians attacked the Mikve Tziyon Synagogue, which had been constructed from an old Midewikiam that had been abandoned during the plague, in the small Jewish quarter, although forces were quickly sent to protect the community, and there were only two deaths and about a dozen casualties. While there was some resentment among the uneducated masses, much of the elite as well as those among the people who had come to learn more about the Jewish community were quite sympathetic to them. Still, the greatest degree of solidarity that the Jews of Shawasha found was among the Taino community. Much like the Jews, the Taino were a people in diaspora who were displaced by the Spanish and found relative safety among the Misians albeit while facing some discrimination. A similar solidarity would also be found among Jews and Tainos in Manhattan, where the Taino population was also beginning to grow.
In particular, Jews and Tainos were active on the high seas as pirates attacking Spanish ships. A typical pirate ship was quite diverse, with Jews, Tainos, Misians, and even some Englishmen. Many legends would arise about Guarocuya Paharona, the Taino pirate captain with his diverse crew more commonly known to the Spanish as “Captain Enriquillo”, and the Shawasha-born Jewish hero Daniel Leon, who founded the legendary pirate hideout of Nuevo Masada in the Bahamas, from which he and countless other pirates were able to terrorize Spanish ships in the Southern Seas. These pirates would often become buccaneers, receiving funding directly from Cahoqua to continue their activities, and were able to sell their gold, sugar, and spices to the Misians and English. Captain Enriquillo and other captains would very often liberate slave ships and kidnap Spanish Christians of Taino descent. The Christian Tainos would typically be forced to convert back to their Zemist ways. The freed slaves would often combine their own native African traditions with those of Midewiwin, Judaism, and Zemism, establishing the modern basis of the Futu religion common in Southern Misia today.
Jewish thought would also take influence from local customs. Manhattan would become the center of Maaravi Kabbalah. In 1562, Rabbi Parukh pen Afraham (also referred to as Rabava) would write Sefer Marpe Ruach, commonly referred to simply as the Sefer Marpe or Marpe Ruach, which was a mystical work commenting on the Zohar, Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, and aspects of Jewish history influenced heavily by Midewin tradition, involving concepts of spiritual healing and medicine that were considered important to Midewins. In 1574, the Haudenosaunee would reform their political system to give some voting power to the Wenro and former Wyandot tribes, expanding democracy within their borders. Tafit Sacuto, after visiting the Haudenosaunee capital of Onondaga and learning about their political system later that year, would return to Manhattan and publish With Regards to Federation and Democracy in 1575, a work which praised the political freedoms of the Haudenosaunee people in deciding the fate of their government, and would also praise the Haudenosaunee state for its tolerance of Jews, Christians, and Zemists despite its Mide majority. This work would become widespread throughout Europe, eventually influencing Enlightenment thinkers.
While Jews were able to thrive in the New World, English Catholics were not. In late 1534, news would arrive from England that the newly formed Church of England had
split from Papal authority. Some Englishmen, rejecting the change, would flee to the Spanish Caribbean, mainly to Calusa or Cuba, only to find themselves subject to the harsh inquisition. While there was some protest, such as a minor riot in Cheektowaga that was swiftly put down by the Haudenosaunee military and their English allies, isolation from any other Catholic power made the maintenance of Catholicism near impossible, and so the majority simply went along without much of a fuss. The most notable protest was in 1535, when a group of Catholics in St. John’s marched to the southern side of the Avalon peninsula of Southeastern Takamcook to form the village of St. Mary’s on St. Mary’s Bay. With the help of their Beothuk allies on the island, the English marched on St. Mary’s in 1536, finding that the village was struggling to survive the winter.
The brief reign of Mary I did not have much of an effect on religion in the New World. The Takamcook-Misia Company continued operations as usual, and was highly effective at defending itself from the potentially hostile French and Spanish forces. In Yamacraw, a few dozen Frenchmen attempted to march on the English quarter to revert them to Catholicism in 1557, but the Misian authorities quickly intervened and put an end to the fighting.
While religious tensions were somewhat cooled on the North American mainland, they were heating up in Europe, and the English intervention into the Spanish Netherlands in 1585 would bring war to the New World.
On land, peace would require the Misians to fight off attackers from the nomadic peoples to the west. Historically, these people were often significantly weaker than the Misians, but now the horse was beginning to make its way to the Great Plains. Following a series of raids made by men on horseback, the Misians would begin a campaign throughout the 1500s of hunting down encampments of marauders and burning them down, but often took more casualties overall than their attackers. The largest of these conflicts would be the Numunu-Karankawa Wars. The Karankawa were a people living along the coast between Misia and the Kotsui River that had throughout their history been controlled by the Misians, adopting the broader Misian culture albeit with its own regional differences, being rather removed from the Mississippian heartland. In more recent centuries, the land had been attacked by a Nawa tribe with a religion and culture somewhat similar to that of Mesoamerica. The Karankawa had lived under a united Nawa-ruled kingdom until the Great Death, in which most of the leadership died and the kingdom fractured into squabbling coastal city states. In the late 1550s, an expansionist Numunu League would begin expanding in the arid and semi-arid grasslands north and east of the Kotsoi River, raiding independent settled tribes who farmed along rivers as well as larger civilized peoples, such as the Dinei and the Karankawa. The leaders of different Karankawa towns would write to Cahoqua and Tenochtitlan for assistance. The Kilsu and the Meshica would both lead a campaign against the Numunu in the early to mid 1560s, splitting the Karankawa lands between them with the Kilsu taking the majority. The Dinei, meanwhile, would seize more of the hinterland, particularly along the river.
Peace at sea, of course, would have to come through greater naval strength. Although the Kilsu had possessed an admirable fleet, it was not enough to protect themselves from the Spanish. The Misians therefore expanded their shipyards in their southern port cities. In particular, Shawasha, Mabila, and Kiawah would become the largest ship-building cities, constructing European-style ships. These ships would first be put to the test in 1540 when fighting between French and English ships broke out off Misia's Atlantic coast. Word travelled to the Emperor, who demanded that he would not allow any foreign power to restrict trade on Misia’s oceanic ports. As the fighting continued, a fleet set out from Kiawah led by Captain Wichawah Nunti that successfully surrounded the fleet and brought them into Kiawah. Messengers set by the emperor delivered an edict barring the English from stopping the French from trading at their ports. Thankful to the English for their alliance, the Misians would allow the English to trade freely without any tariffs, tariffs that were still applied to the French. Following the Edict of Kiawah, the French began to establish a presence in Kiawah and Yamacraw, although the English would continue to hold a monopoly on the ports of the northeast. The settlement of this dispute and the assertion of Misian sovereignty would be considered the last of the great achievements of Emperor Mamantwensah, who would die in 1543 at the age of 68. He would be succeeded by his son, Manawesquah II.
Kiawah and Yamacraw would both undergo a boom during this period with the rise of trans-Atlantic trade becoming more important by the year. However, even greater developments had been taking place further north. The Haudenosaunee now had an empire stretching from the Great Lakes to ports of the Eastern Seaboard and wished to connect the two regions. The Grand Council had secured an agreement from the Misians for support in the construction of a canal, and the English would also agree to support the project. The question that remained was where. The Haudenosaunee knew that they wanted to connect Lake Eriron to Lake Ontario, but there was debate as to whether to construct the canal to the west side or east side of the Ogniara River. The west side would be shorter, but would involve a more extreme slope, while the east side would be longer yet on a more controlled slope, and would also have the benefit of passing through lands controlled by the Haudenosaunee prior to the arrival of the English. There was also an issue of how to connect the Great Lakes to the Muhekantuck River, which emptied into the Atlantic at Manhattan. Some suggested connecting this river to Lake Kaniatara to the north, which was itself connected to the Wepistuk River, bringing trade through the city of Kawanoteh, an idea mostly popular among the Kanienkeha sachems of the east. Meanwhile, the rest of the sachems preferred a longer canal that would pass through their lands in order to keep trade more secure from potential Wabanaki interference, which was a major motivation for easing transit to their own ports in the first place. These sachems would also cite the fact that a more southerly route may be less likely to freeze in the winter, a fact which would be pitched to both Cahoqua and St. John’s to receive their support. In order to achieve a consensus, the Council agreed to construct the Ogniara Canal east of the river, and would build both the Cheektowaga Canal and the Kaniatara Canal.
To construct the canal, the Haudenosaunee would receive partial aid from both the Misians and the English. Seeing an advantage in the project, Mamantwensah would send his best engineers in late 1523 to oversee the construction of the project. Due to a shortage of cheap labor, the Haudenosaunee would purchase African slaves from the English, who in turn bought them from the Portuguese, in order to construct the canal. Most of the slaves that came to work on the canal would die due to a combonation of exhaustion, abuse, unsafe working conditions, and an inability to deal with the cold Haudenosaunee winter. Many of the sachems of the Grand Council were appalled by the conditions of the slaves, but due to the desire for these infrastructure projects, there was never enough of a consensus among them to liberate the slaves. For the thousands of survivors alive at the end of the construction in 1534, the Grand Council generally agreed to let them go free and accept them among their numbers, although they would not be able to vote for another generation. Many of the former slaves would intermarry. While some slavery would continue to exist primarily in the coastal ports working on the docks, this dark portion of Haudenosaunee history would often go forgotten to history.
It is also worth noting that, due to slavery in North America, the mid to late 1520s also saw the spread of malaria from Spanish Calusa into the rest of the eastern portion of the continent, primarily around the southern coastal swamplands. While deadly, it was quickly discovered in the particularly miserable summer of 1527 that kina, a common medicine made from the bark of the tropical American tree of the same name, was able to successfully combat the disease. This knowledge quickly spread, nipping the potential pandemic in the bud. The increased demand for kina in the following years would provide an economic boon to the Meshica Empire and French Mouisca, which were the primary exporters. Around this time, the Misians and Tsenacommacans would also purchase some slaves to work in the tobacco fields, but this was generally on a small scale.
Returning to the topic of trade, the two most important cities for trade would become Shawasha, which had historically been Misia’s most important port city, and Manhattan, which would explode in wealth and population during the construction of the canal and following its completion. Both Shawasha and Manhattan would see a large influx of merchants both from Europe as well as from nearby lands. Being the largest port on the eastern seaboard, Manhattan would also dominate the other captured cities culturally. Munsey Lenape, which was already used as a lingua franca among nearby coastal peoples, would remain the lingua franca of the Haudenosaunee coastal territories. The city of Manhattan, which originally just sat at the southern tip of the island bearing the same name, would gradually begin to expand up the island, the first city to do so since the Great Death. New homes, markets, administrative centers, and Midewigams were built, as was a thriving English community. However, perhaps even more interesting was the fact that as much as a third of the non-native population of Shawasha and half of the non-native population of Manhattan was Jewish.
North American Jews, often referred to as Maaravim, were mostly made up of Sephardic exiles coming from Europe. While some small populations of Jewish merchants would work and live among the English, they generally maintained a low profile. While there were small Jewish congregations in St. John’s, the first true synagogue to be built in the New World was the Kahal B’nai Israel synagogue in Manhattan built in 1518, which then moved to a larger building in 1532 due to the rapidly increasing Jewish population. Sekharya Halefi, an early member of the congregation, would even be a member of the conscripts that went to fight the Spanish in Misia, leading a small contingent of fellow Jews eager to stick it to the Spanish. In Shawasha, the first Jewish communities would come later. In 1528, a ship filled with crypto-Jewish conversos from Havana arrived in Shawasha fleeing the Spanish Inquisition, which had arrived in Cuba earlier that year. The Jews were held at gunpoint offshore by the Misian navy until the well-educated Sipikapia Tuchutwah, who understood Spanish and learned about the circumstances of the Spanish Inquisition, allowed the Jews to settle in the city, establishing the first permanent Jewish community in Misia. Tuchutwah and Emperor Mamantwensah would both come to be remembered fondly in Jewish history.
The Jewish population, particularly in Shawasha, was treated generally with suspicion. Misia had recently fought a war to get rid of the Spanish, a war in which Shawasha was directly affected, and now there were men who came from the same place and spoke the same language living in their city. In May 1529, a group of Misians attacked the Mikve Tziyon Synagogue, which had been constructed from an old Midewikiam that had been abandoned during the plague, in the small Jewish quarter, although forces were quickly sent to protect the community, and there were only two deaths and about a dozen casualties. While there was some resentment among the uneducated masses, much of the elite as well as those among the people who had come to learn more about the Jewish community were quite sympathetic to them. Still, the greatest degree of solidarity that the Jews of Shawasha found was among the Taino community. Much like the Jews, the Taino were a people in diaspora who were displaced by the Spanish and found relative safety among the Misians albeit while facing some discrimination. A similar solidarity would also be found among Jews and Tainos in Manhattan, where the Taino population was also beginning to grow.
In particular, Jews and Tainos were active on the high seas as pirates attacking Spanish ships. A typical pirate ship was quite diverse, with Jews, Tainos, Misians, and even some Englishmen. Many legends would arise about Guarocuya Paharona, the Taino pirate captain with his diverse crew more commonly known to the Spanish as “Captain Enriquillo”, and the Shawasha-born Jewish hero Daniel Leon, who founded the legendary pirate hideout of Nuevo Masada in the Bahamas, from which he and countless other pirates were able to terrorize Spanish ships in the Southern Seas. These pirates would often become buccaneers, receiving funding directly from Cahoqua to continue their activities, and were able to sell their gold, sugar, and spices to the Misians and English. Captain Enriquillo and other captains would very often liberate slave ships and kidnap Spanish Christians of Taino descent. The Christian Tainos would typically be forced to convert back to their Zemist ways. The freed slaves would often combine their own native African traditions with those of Midewiwin, Judaism, and Zemism, establishing the modern basis of the Futu religion common in Southern Misia today.
Jewish thought would also take influence from local customs. Manhattan would become the center of Maaravi Kabbalah. In 1562, Rabbi Parukh pen Afraham (also referred to as Rabava) would write Sefer Marpe Ruach, commonly referred to simply as the Sefer Marpe or Marpe Ruach, which was a mystical work commenting on the Zohar, Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, and aspects of Jewish history influenced heavily by Midewin tradition, involving concepts of spiritual healing and medicine that were considered important to Midewins. In 1574, the Haudenosaunee would reform their political system to give some voting power to the Wenro and former Wyandot tribes, expanding democracy within their borders. Tafit Sacuto, after visiting the Haudenosaunee capital of Onondaga and learning about their political system later that year, would return to Manhattan and publish With Regards to Federation and Democracy in 1575, a work which praised the political freedoms of the Haudenosaunee people in deciding the fate of their government, and would also praise the Haudenosaunee state for its tolerance of Jews, Christians, and Zemists despite its Mide majority. This work would become widespread throughout Europe, eventually influencing Enlightenment thinkers.
While Jews were able to thrive in the New World, English Catholics were not. In late 1534, news would arrive from England that the newly formed Church of England had
split from Papal authority. Some Englishmen, rejecting the change, would flee to the Spanish Caribbean, mainly to Calusa or Cuba, only to find themselves subject to the harsh inquisition. While there was some protest, such as a minor riot in Cheektowaga that was swiftly put down by the Haudenosaunee military and their English allies, isolation from any other Catholic power made the maintenance of Catholicism near impossible, and so the majority simply went along without much of a fuss. The most notable protest was in 1535, when a group of Catholics in St. John’s marched to the southern side of the Avalon peninsula of Southeastern Takamcook to form the village of St. Mary’s on St. Mary’s Bay. With the help of their Beothuk allies on the island, the English marched on St. Mary’s in 1536, finding that the village was struggling to survive the winter.
The brief reign of Mary I did not have much of an effect on religion in the New World. The Takamcook-Misia Company continued operations as usual, and was highly effective at defending itself from the potentially hostile French and Spanish forces. In Yamacraw, a few dozen Frenchmen attempted to march on the English quarter to revert them to Catholicism in 1557, but the Misian authorities quickly intervened and put an end to the fighting.
While religious tensions were somewhat cooled on the North American mainland, they were heating up in Europe, and the English intervention into the Spanish Netherlands in 1585 would bring war to the New World.
Thanks! I've got a lot more in store.
"I swear the Tainos and the Yehutis are behind this!"
I tentatively agree, but let's not forget that the momentum the Spanish OTL had was used up in the Carribeans (and against the Misians) ITTL and the Carribeans suffered tremendously for it.
Also the longer regular interactions take place between Europe and the Americas, the less exploitable the Americas will be. Spain was able to conquer the Aztecs and Incas OTL due to the fact that they possessed overwhelming technological and military advantages and the spread of disease brought depopulation and political strife. As of now, Misia, Meshica, Haudenosaunia, Wabanakik, Tsenacommacah, and Tawantisuyu all have European military technology. Misia was mentioned explicitly as researching European methods of warfare, and Meshica is being supported by the Spanish to be able to compete with them. Misia is also working alongside the English to keep the peace on the Eastern Seaboard and is pretty adamant about not allowing any European power to compromise its sovereignty. At least in East America and Mesoamerica, the natives are in a pretty good spot. That is, of course, provided they aren't pulled apart from within.
Chapter 16: L'Shanah HaBa'ah
Chapter 16: L'Shanah HaBa'ah
It was that time of year when the late autumn gave way to winter, yet it was as warm and pleasant as ever. Daniel, or Taniel, as many of the mainlanders called him, had seen the changing leaves and snowfall up north in the lands of Tsenacommacah and Haudenosaunia. He had sailed up to chilly Manhattan several times to visit his kin at the great synagogue of Kahal B’nai Israel. He had also sailed upriver from Shawasha, the city where he had grown up which he still frequently visited, to visit the benevolent Emperor who aided him in his endeavors. Still, he spent most of his winters where he spent most of his time– down in the warmth of the Southern Seas.
Nuevo Masada, a base located in nominally Spanish territory which he had established years prior in the isles of the Bahamas, had grown into a full-fledged metropolis of pirates and buccaneers from across the Southern Seas who would exchange sugar and spices and bullion seized from Spanish ships with merchants based in the mainland. The base was a diverse place. There were, of course, Sephardic-Maaravic Jews such as himself, as well as Tainos, who had historically been indigenous to these islands and were able to find refuge among their allies. Englishmen, liberated Africans, Misians, Tsenacommacans, Haudenosaunees, Lenapes, Wabanakis, and even a few Mayans and Nawas joined together on this island hideaway to take part in the looting and plundering of Spanish treasure ships. He no longer spent quite as much time on the high seas as his fellow pirates, spending much of his time maintaining his underground empire from his island home among the palm trees, yet from the center of his empire he would still maintain his fearsome reputation among Spanish sailors and remain a specter haunting the minds of the Spanish authorities.
He would march forth onto the docks every year and erect a nine-pronged candelabra, not unlike the seven-pronged candelabra that burned constantly outside his verifiable palace of a home. By now, most of the people who lived on the island or frequented it around this time, whether Jewish or not, understood that for eight nights every year, Captain Daniel Leon would invite everyone to a feast of fried foods and gambling that would always begin each night with the lighting of the candelabra. And on this night, as the sun set over the horizon, the Lion of the Bahamas stood before his men with the center candle known as the shamash in his hand prepared to light the other eight candles to mark the final night of the festival.
“Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu, Melekh ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukah.”
As usual, many of the native mainlanders struggled to pronounce the bet and the dalet, and many other struggled to pronounce a number of other sounds in the blessing or even to follow along with the words they did not understand in the first place, but like everyone else on the island, they always joined their Jewish crewmates and compatriots in celebrating the annual ritual.
“Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu, Melekh ha’olam, she’asah nisim la’avoteinu bayamim haheim baz’man hazeh.”
And with that, the famous pirate lit all eight candles and placed the one which he held back into its place at the center of the candelabra elevated above the rest.
“My friends,” he said, “tonight, as we are every night, we are blessed to have everyone– Jew, Taino; Englishman, African; Misian, easterner; people of all nations gathered together to experience the light of the Hanukiah. Tonight is the last night of our festival, but we must remain merry and joyful throughout the year, as we remember the story of the rededication of our temple and carry that story as an inspiration throughout the year. Whether we were forced out of our homes or invaded by those who seek to destroy us, the story of the brave warrior forefathers to all of Israel who fought for their freedom against the tyranny and desecration of the Greeks is a reminder to us that hope can never be lost. Whether it be the Babylonians or the Greeks or the Romans or the Spanish, there will always be forces of darkness that seek to destroy us, but we will always resist, and we will always fight back to reclaim that which is ours. War may be upon us soon. It has already begun between England and Spain across the sea, and it is only a matter of time before it will be up to us to strike against Amalek like we never have before, but when we win, we will rededicate all that we have lost. God willing, we shall celebrate next year in Pikate, next year in Ayiti, and next year in Jerusalem.”
All of the men surrounding Daniel on the dock began chanting “L’Shanah HaBa’ah”, a Hebrew term that had become an anti-Spanish slogan among the pirates of the Caribbean. Surrounded by other smaller candelabras, the men feasted on fried dough and fish and drank wine and balche. They gambled gold and silver and other precious goods into the night. All the while, the great Menorah stood over the docks, its nine candles in all of their glory lighting up the waters of the Atlantic. Nuevo Masada may have been created as a hideaway, but tonight, it revealed its true purpose– as a beacon, a place not just for illegal activities, but for the hope of all humankind in the pursuit of liberation.
Nuevo Masada, a base located in nominally Spanish territory which he had established years prior in the isles of the Bahamas, had grown into a full-fledged metropolis of pirates and buccaneers from across the Southern Seas who would exchange sugar and spices and bullion seized from Spanish ships with merchants based in the mainland. The base was a diverse place. There were, of course, Sephardic-Maaravic Jews such as himself, as well as Tainos, who had historically been indigenous to these islands and were able to find refuge among their allies. Englishmen, liberated Africans, Misians, Tsenacommacans, Haudenosaunees, Lenapes, Wabanakis, and even a few Mayans and Nawas joined together on this island hideaway to take part in the looting and plundering of Spanish treasure ships. He no longer spent quite as much time on the high seas as his fellow pirates, spending much of his time maintaining his underground empire from his island home among the palm trees, yet from the center of his empire he would still maintain his fearsome reputation among Spanish sailors and remain a specter haunting the minds of the Spanish authorities.
He would march forth onto the docks every year and erect a nine-pronged candelabra, not unlike the seven-pronged candelabra that burned constantly outside his verifiable palace of a home. By now, most of the people who lived on the island or frequented it around this time, whether Jewish or not, understood that for eight nights every year, Captain Daniel Leon would invite everyone to a feast of fried foods and gambling that would always begin each night with the lighting of the candelabra. And on this night, as the sun set over the horizon, the Lion of the Bahamas stood before his men with the center candle known as the shamash in his hand prepared to light the other eight candles to mark the final night of the festival.
“Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu, Melekh ha’olam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukah.”
As usual, many of the native mainlanders struggled to pronounce the bet and the dalet, and many other struggled to pronounce a number of other sounds in the blessing or even to follow along with the words they did not understand in the first place, but like everyone else on the island, they always joined their Jewish crewmates and compatriots in celebrating the annual ritual.
“Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu, Melekh ha’olam, she’asah nisim la’avoteinu bayamim haheim baz’man hazeh.”
And with that, the famous pirate lit all eight candles and placed the one which he held back into its place at the center of the candelabra elevated above the rest.
“My friends,” he said, “tonight, as we are every night, we are blessed to have everyone– Jew, Taino; Englishman, African; Misian, easterner; people of all nations gathered together to experience the light of the Hanukiah. Tonight is the last night of our festival, but we must remain merry and joyful throughout the year, as we remember the story of the rededication of our temple and carry that story as an inspiration throughout the year. Whether we were forced out of our homes or invaded by those who seek to destroy us, the story of the brave warrior forefathers to all of Israel who fought for their freedom against the tyranny and desecration of the Greeks is a reminder to us that hope can never be lost. Whether it be the Babylonians or the Greeks or the Romans or the Spanish, there will always be forces of darkness that seek to destroy us, but we will always resist, and we will always fight back to reclaim that which is ours. War may be upon us soon. It has already begun between England and Spain across the sea, and it is only a matter of time before it will be up to us to strike against Amalek like we never have before, but when we win, we will rededicate all that we have lost. God willing, we shall celebrate next year in Pikate, next year in Ayiti, and next year in Jerusalem.”
All of the men surrounding Daniel on the dock began chanting “L’Shanah HaBa’ah”, a Hebrew term that had become an anti-Spanish slogan among the pirates of the Caribbean. Surrounded by other smaller candelabras, the men feasted on fried dough and fish and drank wine and balche. They gambled gold and silver and other precious goods into the night. All the while, the great Menorah stood over the docks, its nine candles in all of their glory lighting up the waters of the Atlantic. Nuevo Masada may have been created as a hideaway, but tonight, it revealed its true purpose– as a beacon, a place not just for illegal activities, but for the hope of all humankind in the pursuit of liberation.
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This inter-ethnic and inter-religious slice of Jewish life on the high seas makes me wonder... will some of the Caribbean natives convert to Judaism in numbers large enough to form distinct communities, especially along piracy and/or trade routes? The Jewish faith has a long history after all, with weird outlying groups of not-quite-orthodox Jews in weird places and, due to the Mesoamerican penchant for religious mysticism, endlessly arguing about the finer details of the holy book and its commentary is something they'd take to quite eagerly, in my opinion.
inb4 a Mayan convert tries to draw parallels between the Popol Vuh and the Tanakh...
There's an intermingling definitely, although the Taino who survived forced conversion generally desire to maintain their traditional beliefs. Judaism also isn't really present in Mesoamerica at this time, with the Spanish effectively dominating the coast and the Meshica already trying to stamp out the spread of Christianity. The two largest Jewish communities in the New World at this time are in Manhattan and Shawasha, with smaller communities in other cities mainly along the coast such as Mabila and another significant amount at sea typically based in the more remote islands of the Spanish Bahamas.This inter-ethnic and inter-religious slice of Jewish life on the high seas makes me wonder... will some of the Caribbean natives convert to Judaism in numbers large enough to form distinct communities, especially along piracy and/or trade routes? The Jewish faith has a long history after all, with weird outlying groups of not-quite-orthodox Jews in weird places and, due to the Mesoamerican penchant for religious mysticism, endlessly arguing about the finer details of the holy book and its commentary is something they'd take to quite eagerly, in my opinion.
inb4 a Mayan convert tries to draw parallels between the Popol Vuh and the Tanakh...
Chapter 17: The Anglo-Spanish War
Chapter 17: The Anglo-Spanish War
Captain Garcia lounged on the deck of La Magdalena, the warm sun and mild breeze of the Straits of Calusa rejuvenating him as he relaxed. The voyage was not a complex one. All he had to do was bring supplies, mainly firearms and gunpowder, from Havana, Cuba to Tequesta, Calusa, an expedition so peaceful a child could lead it. All he had to do was sit back and relax as the ship merrily made its way across the bright aquamarine sea.
“Captain,” he said, “there’s another ship approaching.”
“Is one of our own?”
“It appears so.”
Captain Garcia arose from his seat and squinted across the sparkling waters. A ship was indeed coming closer, and it bore the Cross of Burgundy on a yellow banner. The ship continued to near his own, drawing closer and closer with every second. Suddenly, mere yards away, the ship lowered the Cross of Burgundy and raised a black flag with a white skull-like face with two curved arms coming from each side forming the shape of a tilde– unmistakable as the Black Juracan– the flag of…
“Captain Enriquillo!” the men shouted and scrambled across the deck. They had all heard of the legends of the Taino captain who had slaughtered countless Christian Spaniards on the high seas. Garcia turned around and saw that there were two more ships flanking La Magdalena from the other sides. His men drew their muskets and pistols preparing to defend.
Boom! Crack!
A cannon had fired from the first ship and knocked over the mast, which was now crashing onto the deck, throwing the crew into disarray as the pirates circled the ship. Garcia noticed one man had his leg caught under the mast of the ship and went to help him.
“Help us!”
Two crewmates came over to help move the mast as he yanked. After pulling him out and helping him to his feet, Captain Garcia looked around and noticed that his ship was fully ensnared by the enemy, which had begun to lay planks across the walls and board his ship. The men immediately dropped their weapons and held their hands to their sides at shoulder height. Garcia turned around and a thin African man dressed with a headwrap and corn-linen trousers held a knife to his throat.
“Who here is the captain of this ship?”
Garcia heard and raised his hand above the rest in response to the heavily accented Spanish.
“Kinte,” he said to the black man with the knife, followed by instruction in a language he was not familiar with telling him to stand down. Kinte obliged.
“Well, Captain, it is an honor to meet you.”
Captain Enriquillo stood before him. He was a Taino man of golden brown complexion and a relatively modest stature who was nonetheless rather intimidating. His face was smooth and flawless with only a simple scar across his cheek, likely from a blade. Despite his tropical islander heritage, he dressed remarkably like a European, wearing light stockings under a maroon tunic with a feather in his hat. Around his neck, however, was a silver amulet that was unmistakably identical to the symbol of Juracan on the flag seen on his ships.
“Captain Enriquillo, is it?”
“The name is Guarocuya Paharona, but that is what the Isapanoles call me.”
“I don’t want any trouble. Just do what you want and go, but please don’t hurt my crew. We’re just traders.”
“Traders?” asked Paharona. “Tell me, what cargo are you carrying? Sugar? Gold? Spices?”
Garcia froze up. Paharona smiled.
“Ammunitions, is it?” he smirked. “Did you think you could really get away with carrying arms for the evil empire in my waters?”
“Take what you need and go.”
“Tell me, is that what the Isapanoles did when they came to the land of Ayiti, the land of my ancestors since the dawn of time? Did they simply demand tribute and leave? Yet here you are, on your ship from one stolen piece of land to another, arming the empire responsible for the vast death and destruction across the Southern Seas and demanding mercy.”
“I suppose it is just like an infidel savage to engage in indiscriminate slaughter.”
“If only you could hear yourself,” Paharona replied. “Be thankful this is one ship and not your entire civilization.”
Paharona shouted to his men, followed by the crack of flintlocks and slashing of blades as the men on the ship cried out in agony to Christ. All that remained of the Spanish crew was the man who had his leg stuck, the two men who helped to move the mast, and Garcia himself.
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. I need someone to send to Tekesta in a canoe to let the Isapanoles know exactly what it is like to be the few survivors of a great indiscriminate slaughter.”
Paharona watched as several of his crew walked the survivors to a canoe. The boat was lowered into the water with the four men on board and sent off to the north in the direction of Tekesta.
“What now captain?” asked a Misian crew member.
“Glad you asked, Ochako,” Guarocuya replied. “Set course for Nuevo Masada.”
***
No war was officially declared, but war effectively began in 1585, following the seizure of merchant ships in Spanish harbors. In response, the English began a campaign in the Canary Islands, seizing Lanzarote but failing to push much further. That August, England joined the Dutch Protestant United Provinces, which had declared their independence from Spain, and began fighting in the Low Countries in mainland Europe. Initially, the dutch campaign faced setbacks, and Queen Elizabeth was furious with Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, for taking the offer of Governor of the United Provinces. Still, the English faced some successes, taking Axel in July and Doesburg the following month. Unfortunately for the English, Dudley’s poor diplomacy skills resulted in the weakening of both his political base and his military situation, leading to him being recalled as the English continued to struggle in the Netherlands.
Meanwhile, in the Caribbean, the Takamcook-Misia Company began an attack on the Spanish Caribbean. A fleet led by Tobin Cornett set out from St. John’s, picking up more recruits on the way south. Rather than attack the New Spanish capital of Havana, the English made for the island of Hispaniola. An initial attack on Santo Domingo in May 1586 would prove unsuccessful, but an attack on the lightly-defended Duhozemi on June 2 would prove successful, and the English would manage to hold onto the city until the last day of the month after reinforcements arrived from Cuba to force them out.
Although ultimately the Hispaniola Campaign ended in failure, it galvanized complete Taino support behind the English. As word spread of the fact that the English temporarily forced the Spanish out of their sacred city, young Taino men from all over the diaspora sought to become pirates and privateers to attack the Spanish. They were joined by other men who sought to take part in the war against Spain, especially the Maaravim. Misian Emperor Mahsihtaqua, who had not yet entered the war in an official capacity, began to increase funds to privateers. Captain Enriquillo, already a folk hero to the Tainos and a nightmare to any Spanish sailors who had heard of him, achieved legendary status and became a household name. As captain of the Black Huracan, he would fly the flag of the same name, a flag which would become a symbol for pirates in the Southern Seas, and attack countless Spanish supply ships and warships. 1586 to 1588 would be golden years for anti-Spanish piracy.
On April 12, 1588, King Philip of Spain would launch an armada to attack England with the endorsement of the Pope, hoping to install a Catholic monarch. Meanwhile, on May 28, a fleet from Cuba would begin to attack St. John’s and Manhattan. Both of these events would disrupt the English War effort in the Caribbean. Meanwhile, that summer, the Spanish would collaborate with the Meshica fleet in the South Misian Sea to prevent Misian aid from privateers, This would see the Misian fleet begin to engage in several small skirmishes on the South Misian Sea, usually not with much success against the combined Spanish-Meshica force.
That year, on the evening of August 1, which was also the Jewish day of mourning of Tisha B’Av, the Spanish fleet, which had been scanning the Bahamas for years by this point, had finally found the outpost Nuevo Masada. There, hundreds of pirates and privateers were gathered, including Captain Leon who ran the outpost as well as the infamous Captain Enriquillo. After being rallied by the Lion of the Bahamas, all of the pirates agreed to fight to the last man. The entire island went out in a blaze of glory, defending their home against the Spanish, with legends saying that Leon was the last to die. The one surviving witness was Miriam Leon, Daniel’s daughter, who managed to flee to Yamacraw where she spread word of the tragedy of Nuevo Masada.
Immediately, hearing that the Spanish were up to their old ways and learning that many of those killed at Nuevo Masada were Misians, calls for war spread across the Empire. On September 24, 1588, Mahsihtaqua issued an official declaration of war against Spain, and issued an order for forces in the southeast to push south into the Pikate peninsula. On October 17, Misian forces attacked Spanish-controlled Osachit along the coast but were pushed back north. On November 2, a large Spanish-Calusa force attacked Yamacraw, but were pushed back by the Misians along with the small number of English and French inhabitants of the city. Lothaire Julien, the leader of the small French community in Yamacraw, would write to Paris requesting France intervene in the war, although Henry III would not heed this request. The Spanish and Calusa would make another offensive, attacking Apalachiqua to the west and successfully occupying the South Misian port in December that year. On Christmas, the now-mobilized Misians marched onto Apalachicola from the north and west, and a Misian fleet arrived south of the city, winning over the Spanish navy. During a January offensive, the Misians marched south into the Pikate Peninsula, seizing Osachit with its overwhelming numerical advantage and pushing southward. Tanpa would fall on January 22, leaving Tekesta and the surrounding areas as the last major safe haven for the Spanish. The Spanish force was concentrated in this small piece of land, and the seas to the east and south were still controlled for the most part by Spain, while the swampland to the west was controlled by the Calusa, who would continue to fight the Misians. Eliseo Gomez, the Spanish governor of Calusa, would write to Havana on the desperation of the situation, leading Havana to send a letter to Meshica, demanding they fully enter the war.
On February 19, Awitzotl II would order a full-scale attack on the Misians. By this time, the Spanish had been pushed out of Tekesta, with most of the force retreating to the Bahamas while many Calusa in the southeastern swamplands maintained a guerilla campaign. For the Calusa in the swamp and the Spanish in the Bahamas, the Meshica invasion of Misia was a blessing. In early March, the Meshica pushed north into Misian Karankawa, and the Misians would have to rush forces over to the relatively lightly defended area. By the time Misia had brought enough troops to turn the tide in May, the Meshica already controlled Sakuqua, posing a significant threat to Misia’s major southern ports. For the most part, fighting would stall around Sakuqua. Despite their larger population, the Misians found that they were outmatched by the Meshica cavalry and navy. While Misia could keep sending troops at the Meshica and prevent them from advancing further, the Misians themselves were unable to gain ground, leading the front to stall.
With Misia and allies mainly holding down the Spanish in the Caribbean, the English were primarily focused in the Netherlands. Despite their initial setbacks, the English and the Dutch were achieving victory after victory over the Spanish. Meanwhile, the war began to spill over into France, with the Protestant King Henry IV leading the Huguenots against the Catholic League. During the Siege of Paris in 1590, King Henry and the Huguenots took the city from the Catholic League. Meanwhile, seeing the opportunity to open up a new front against the forces of the Iberian Union, Sir Francis Drake would lead an expedition in 1590 to attack the Spanish settlement of Buenos Aires on the Plate River in March. He would also successfully seize the southern Brazilian ports of Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro, which had a relatively larger Portuguese population but were still rather small outposts compared to the large Portuguese settlements to the north.
Calusa had fallen. The Low Countries were united. Argentina had been lost. The Protestants were winning in France. The Meshica mostly dominated the Southern Seas, but Misian ports remained out of reach. The Karankawa front had stagnated, as had the front between the Misians and Spanish in the Bahamas and Caribbean, where the Spanish defense had now consolidated quite significantly. On all sides, combatants were beginning to grow weary. In 1593, Queen Elizabeth, King Philip II, King Henry IV, Emperor Mahsihtaqua, and Emperor Awitzotl II would all gather in London to sign a treaty.
Chapter 18: The Treaty of London
Chapter 18: The Treaty of London
The Treaty of London marked a key point in the history of European-American relations. For the first time, two great American emperors were seated together an ocean away from their homelands, face to face with the monarchs of Europe. In particular, the meeting between Mihsahtaqua and Philip II was the first time that there would be any sort of diplomatic relations between Misia and Spain as the leaders of these two countries that were historically bitter enemies were forced to confront each other.
In France, Henry VI was recognized as the monarch, and the Protestant Huguenots were recognized as victorious in their campaigns. Spain would be forbidden from attempting to exert any influence on the Catholics of France, who were still a majority, to rise up against their Protestant monarchy. In turn, France would be forbidden from persecuting anyone for their Christian beliefs. The entirety of the Spanish Netherlands, meanwhile, would join the Dutch Republic, which would also pledge religious tolerance.
In South America, Spain would agree to fully withdraw from the French sphere of influence in Inca-controlled Muisca lands. The English would also receive the islands of Trinidad and Tobago, previously controlled by Spain.
Further south, the English would also receive Argentina, including much of what was previously considered to be southern Brazil. England would annex the cities of Sao Paulo (now called St. Paul), Rio de Janeiro (now called Janera), and Buenos Aires (now called Bonusairs), which King Philip saw as more trouble than it was worth. After all, the core of Portuguese colonization in Brazil was where all of the money was to be made. These southern colonies were all quite peripheral. The English would shortly after begin sending settlers to these towns and distributing the fertile farmland of the coast and the Plate River to the incoming colonizers, quickly outnumbering the Spanish and Portuguese populations.
In mainland North America, Misia would agree to give up most of its Karankawa land to Meshica. The city Sakuqua and the surrounding areas would be returned to the Misians, with the Nokaki River becoming the border.
After nearly a century of Spanish rule, Spain recognized Pikate as Misian territory, and agreed to facilitate the withdrawal of Spaniards and Calusa Christians out of the peninsula. The Calusa were not consulted on this situation, leading to the Calusa Revolt in 1594. The Misians would crack down, banning any Christian iconography among the natives of the peninsula and slaughtering entire populations who refused to either leave or revert back to Midewiwin. Notably, in the city of Tekesta, as much as 40% of the population was massacred in 1595, while the rest fled or converted. The fighting was most intense in the swamplands of the southwest, where many Calusa guerillas gathered, not being forced out completely until 1601. Much of the Spanish and Calusa population fleeing the peninsula would go to the Bahamas or Jamaica, where the Spanish hoped to strengthen their control through a greater population.
Mihsahtaqua had hoped to convince the Spanish to give up some of their Caribbean territory to the Tainos, although the Spanish still maintained naval superiority in the region, so doing so would be impossible. Spain agreed to allow Tainos to live in their own communities in the Central American and South American colonies, but only a limited number would be permitted on the Caribbean islands. On the island of Hispaniola, a small community of 1000 Taino immigrants would be permitted to live on Hispaniola in what was effectively a ghetto in the city of Duhozemi. In exchange, Misia agreed to recognize Spanish rule in the Caribbean, stop financing and even crack down on piracy, and open up trade with the Spanish, although it could only be conducted by Misian ships registered with the Sipikapia. This latter condition was largely to the benefit of the Misians, who had been more or less unable to conduct trade with the Caribbean for about a century. The decision to open up trade with Spain was largely due to the fact that much of the trade for tropical goods came mostly from the Meshica Empire, which was now itself considered a hostile force, and although Pikate could satisfy some of the Misians’ needs, trade with Spain made more sense, since it would also seem to guarantee a lasting peace.
When the terms of the treaty reached the New World, Tenochtitlan felt vindicated, having won a major victory against the historically dominant power on the continent, proving itself as Misia’s rival. While many Misians particularly in the Southwest were concerned with the encroaching Meshica, most celebrated the fact that the Spanish had been pushed entirely out of the mainland. Peace with the Spanish and the opening of trade relations was looked upon favorably by the majority of the population. Spain was recognized by many Misians as a historic threat, but the campaign of Hernan Cortes had been over 70 years ago, and few were alive to remember it, and thus there was not the same hatred of the Spanish instilled in the population.
The Taino, meanwhile, felt betrayed by the treaty. In Mihsahqua’s declaration and among leaders throughout the war, a common slogan was to “drive the Spanish out of the Southern Seas”. The fact that not only were the Spanish still there, but also that the Misians recognized their rule, angered the population. Starting in late 1514, Taino living in coastal Misian cities would riot in protest of the treaty. This resulted in counter-riots in retribution committed by the local Misians against their Taino neighbors as part of an overall rise in anti-Tainoism. While cities like Shawasha and Mabila would continue to have large Taino populations, significant populations fled to other places like Pikate, the Meshica Empire, the Northeastern Seaboard, and ironically, parts of the Spanish Empire, where they were now legally mandated to protect small Taino populations. As per the Treaty of London, about 1000 Tainos from all over the diaspora (but with a majority from Misia) would end up in the old city of Duhozemi. The community of Tainos in what was once the Land of Ayiti came to be known as Ara’-Gua’cara– the “People of the Birth Land”–, often simplified as “the Aragua”. The Tainos of the early Aragua would merely be the first of many to return to the Land of Ayiti.
Waiting to see both Meshica and Misia getting access to European firearms, tactics and technology and planning for the next war.
Ah, so the American settlers of OTL are heading to the River Plate. I’d have to say controlling its entire watershed and neighboring areas is a big deal for creating a Misian-style power, especially if the English colonists had overwhelmed the Iberians as mentioned to create a coherent identity.
What is the Nokaki River? The Texas-Colorado? Brazos?
What is the Nokaki River? The Texas-Colorado? Brazos?
The Nokaki River is the Brazos. Included that in a footnote in the doc where I'm writing but I forgot to include it here.
Anyway, God Bless Argentina…
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