It is estimated that De Soto's force in Anhayea, including the captives who were servants or slaves, amounted to about fifteen hundred persons. He had also over three hundred horses. The fertility of the region was however such, with its extended fields of corn, beans, pumpkins and other vegetables, that it was not necessary to send foraging parties to a distance of more than four or five miles from the village. On the 29th of December, 1539, the two brigantines, which had sailed from Tampa Bay, came into St. Marks, then called the Bay of Aute. For twelve days before the arrival of the ships, De Soto had kept companies of horse and foot marching and countermarching between Anhayea and the Bay, to keep the communication open. They also placed banners on the highest trees, as signals to point out the place of anchorage.

Juan De Anasco, who had command of the vessels, left them well manned in the bay, and with the remainder of the ship's company marched to Anhayea, under escort of the troops sent him by De Soto.

Soon after this, Pedro Calderon arrived with his gallant little band of a hundred and twenty men. By a series of the wildest adventures and most heroic achievements they had cut their way through a wilderness thronging with foes, where an army of eight hundred men had with difficulty effected a passage. Fighting every step of the way and bearing along with them their wounded, their progress was necessarily slow. Several of their number were killed and many wounded. Of the wounded, twelve died soon after they reached Anhayea.

Their arrival in the village was a cause of great gratification to all there. De Soto received them as an affectionate father welcomes his son whom he had supposed to have been lost. The rumor had reached the Governor that all had been slain on the road.

Captain Calderon brought a letter to De Soto, from his wife Isabella. We find the following interesting extract from this letter in the life of De Soto by Mr. Lambert A. Wilmer. It seems to bear internal evidence of authenticity, though we know not the source from which Mr. Wilmer obtained it. The spirit of the letter is in entire accord with the noble character which Mr. Washington Irving gives Isabella, in his life of Columbus and his companions.

"I have lately had some conversation with Las Casas, the Bishop of Chiapa. He has convinced me that the behavior of our people to the Indians is inexcusable in the sight of God, however it may be overlooked by men in high authority. The Bishop has proved to me that all who have taken part in the abuse of these harmless people, have been visited in this life with the manifest displeasure of heaven; and God grant that they may not be punished in the life to come according to the measure of their offense.

"I hope, my dearest husband that no considerations of worldly advantage will make you neglectful of the precepts of humanity and of the duties of religion. Be persuaded to return to me at once; for you can gain nothing in Florida which can repay me for the sorrow and anxiety I feel in your absence. Nor for all the riches of the country would I have you commit one act the remembrance of which would be painful to you hereafter. If you have gained nothing I shall be better satisfied, because there may be the less cause for repentance. Whatever may have been your want of success or your losses, I implore you to come to me without delay; for any reverse of fortune is far better than the suspense and misery I now endure."

This letter must have caused De Soto great perplexity. But for reasons which we have above given he could not make up his mind to abandon the enterprise, and return to Cuba an unsuccessful and impoverished man.

De Soto now ordered the two vessels under Diego Maldonado to explore the coast to the westward, carefully examining every river and bay. It would seem also probable that at the same time he fitted out an expedition of fifty foot soldiers, to march along the coast on a tour of discovery. Maldonado, after a sail of about two hundred miles, entered the beautiful bay of Pensacola, then called Archusi. It was an admirable harbor, and with shores so steep and bold that ships could ride in safety almost within cable length of the land. No Spaniards had previously visited that region, consequently the natives were friendly. They came freely on board, bringing fruits and vegetables, and inviting the strangers to the hospitality of their homes.

Maldonado was allowed without molestation to explore the bay in all directions, taking careful soundings. The vessels returned to the bay of Aute, after an absence of but eight weeks. De Soto was highly gratified with the results of the expedition. It seemed to him that the shores of the bay of Pensacola presented just the position he desired for the location of his colony. He had thus far failed, in his search for gold, but it seemed to him still possible that he might lay the foundation of a populous and powerful empire.

It was now the latter part of February, and an almost vertical sun was throwing down its rays upon them. Maldonado was dispatched with the brigantines to Havana, to return with a supply of clothing, ammunition and such other freight as was needful for the army in its isolated condition. He received orders to be back in the bay of Pensacola, by the first of October. In the mean time De Soto with his army was to make a long circuit through the country, in search of gold. De Soto had received information of a distant province called Cofachiqui, which was governed by a queen, young and beautiful. It was said that this nation was quite supreme over the adjacent provinces, from which it received tribute and feudal homage.

Two lads but sixteen years of age had come to Anhayea, from this province in company with some Indian traders. So far as they could make themselves understood, though very unskilful interpreters, they represented the country as abounding in silver, gold and precious stones. In pantomime they described the process of mining and smelting the precious metals so accurately that experienced miners were convinced that they must have witnessed those operations.

In the month of March, 1540, De Soto left his comfortable quarters, and commenced his march for that province, in a northeasterly direction. Their path led first through an almost unpeopled wilderness many leagues in extent. Each soldier bore his frugal supper or food upon his back. It consisted mainly of roasted corn pounded or ground into meal.

An unobstructed but weary tramp of three days brought them through this desert region to a very singular village, called Capachiqui. In the midst of a vast morass, there was an island of elevated and dry ground. Here quite a populous village was erected, which commanded a wide spread view of the flat surrounding region. The village could only be approached by several causeways crossing the marsh, about three hundred feet in length. The country beyond was fertile and sprinkled with small hamlets. Eight hundred armed warriors, on the open plain, presented a force which the most valiant Indians would not venture to assail. The Spaniards entered the village by these causeways unopposed, and found there a not inhospitable reception.

The day after their arrival, seven of De Soto's body-guard, thoughtless and rollicking young men, set out, without authority from their superior officers, to seek amusement in the neighboring hamlets. They had scarcely reached the main land, beyond the marsh, when the Indians, from an ambush, rushed upon them, and after a very fierce struggle all but one were slain, and that one, Aguilar, was mortally wounded. The soldiers in the village hastened to the relief of their comrades, but they were too late. Aguilar, in a dying condition, was carried back to the encampment. He had, however, sufficient strength left to make the following extraordinary statement:

"You must know that a band of more than fifty savages sprang out of the thickets to attack us. The moment, however, they saw that we were but seven, and without our horses, seven warriors stepped forth, and the rest retired to some distance. They began the attack, and as we had neither arquebus nor cross-bow, we were entirely at their mercy. Being more agile, and fleet of foot than our men, they leaped around us like so many devils, with horrid laughter, shooting us down like wild beasts without our being able to close with them. My poor comrades fell one after the other, and the savages seeing me alone, all seven rushed upon me, and with their bows battered me as you have witnessed."

This singular event took place within the territory of Appalachee. It is said that the Spaniards not unfrequently met with similar instances, in which the natives disdained to avail themselves of superior numbers.



CHAPTER XIII.

Lost in the Wilderness.

Incidents at Achise—Arrival at Cofa.—Friendly Reception by Cofaqui.—The Armed Retinue.—Commission of Patofa.—Splendors of the March.—Lost in the Wilderness.—Peril of the Army.—Friendly Relations.—The Escape from the Wilderness.—They Reach the Frontiers of Cofachiqui.—Dismissal of Patofa.—Wonderful Reception by the Princess of Cofachiqui.

After a couple of days of rest and feasting, the Spanish army resumed its march. De Soto led the advance with forty horsemen and seventy foot soldiers. Ere long they entered the province of Attapaha, from which the river Attapaha probably takes its name. On the morning of the third day they approached a village called Achise. The affrighted natives had fled. Two warriors who had tarried behind, were captured as the dragoons came dashing into the streets. They were led into the presence of De Soto. Without waiting to be addressed by him, they haughtily assailed him with the question,

"What is it you seek in our land? Is it peace, or is it war?" De Soto replied, through his interpreter,

"We seek not war with any one. We are in search of a distant province; and all that we ask for is an unobstructed passage through your country, and food by the way."

The answer seemed to them perfectly satisfactory, and they at once entered apparently into the most friendly relations. The captives were set at liberty and treated by the Spaniards, in all respects, as friends. Promptly the two warriors sent a message to their chief, informing him of the peaceful disposition of the Spaniards, and he accordingly issued orders to his people not to molest them.

In this pleasant village, and surrounded by this friendly people, De Soto spent three days. He then resumed his journey, in a northeasterly direction, along the banks of some unknown river, fringed with mulberry trees, and winding through many luxuriant and beautiful valleys. The natives were all friendly, and not the slightest collision occurred. For eleven days the army continued its movements, encountering nothing worthy of note.

They then entered a province called Cofa. De Soto sent couriers in advance to the chief with proffers of friendship. The chief, in return, sent a large number of Indians laden with food for the strangers. With the provisions were sent rabbits, partridges, and a species of dog whose flesh was held in high esteem. The Spaniards suffered for want of meat; for though game in the forest was abundant, being constantly on the march, they had no time for hunting.

The chief of Cofa received the Spaniards in his metropolitan town with great hospitality. He assigned his own mansion to De Soto, and provided comfortable quarters for all his troops. The natives and the Spaniards mingled together without the slightest apparent antagonism. The province of Cofa was of large extent, populous and fertile. Here the Spaniards remained five days, entertained by the abounding hospitality of the chief.

De Soto had thus far brought with him a piece of ordnance, which had proved of very little service. It was heavy and exceedingly difficult of transportation. He decided to leave it behind him with this friendly people. To impress them, however, with an idea of its power as an engine of destruction, he caused it to be loaded and aimed at a large oak tree just outside of the village. Two shots laid the oak prostrate. The achievement filled both the chief and his people with amazement and awe.

Again the army resumed its march towards the next province, which was called Cofaqui; whose chief was brother of Cofa. The Spaniards were escorted by Cofa and a division of his army, during one day's journey. The friendly chief then took an affectionate leave of De Soto, and sent forward couriers to inform his brother of the approach of the Spaniards and to intercede for his kindly offices in their behalf. It required a march of six days to reach the territory of the new chieftain.

In response to Cofa's message, Cofaqui dispatched four of his subordinate chiefs, with a message of welcome to the Spaniards. He sent out his runners to bring him speedy intelligence of their approach. As soon as he received news that they were drawing near, he started himself, with a retinue of warriors in their richest decorations, to welcome the strangers. The meeting, on both sides, was equally cordial. Side by side, almost hand in hand, the Floridians and the Spaniards entered the pleasant streets of Cofaqui. The chief led De Soto to his own mansion, and left him in possession there while he retired to another dwelling.

The intercourse between these two illustrious men seemed to be as cordial as that between two loving brothers. The Floridian chief, with great frankness, gave De Soto information respecting the extent, population and resources of his domain. He informed him that the province of Cofachiqui, of which he was in search, could only be reached by a journey of seven days, through a dreary wilderness. But he offered, should De Soto decide to continue his journey, to send a strong band of his army, to accompany him with ample supplies. De Soto afterwards ascertained that there was some duplicity in this proposal; or rather, that the chief had a double object in view. It appeared, that there had been long and hereditary antagonism between the province of Cofaqui, and that of Cofachiqui; and the chief availed himself of that opportunity to invade the territory of his rival.

Scouts were sent out in all directions to assemble the warriors, and De Soto was surprised to find an army of four thousand soldiers, and as many burden-bearers, ready to accompany him. The provisions, with which they were fully supplied, consisted mainly of corn, dried plums and nuts of various kinds. Indian hunters accompanied the expedition to search the forests for game.

The Spaniards at first were not a little alarmed in finding themselves in company with such an army of natives; outnumbering them eight to one, and they were apprehensive of treachery. Soon, however, their fears in that direction were allayed, for the chief frankly avowed the object of the expedition. Summoning before him Patofa, the captain of the native army, he said to him, in presence of the leading Spanish officers in the public square:

"You well know that a perpetual enmity has existed between our fathers and the Indians of Cofachiqui. That hatred you know has not abated in the least. The wrongs we have received from that vile tribe still rankle in our hearts, unavenged. The present opportunity must not be lost. You, at the head of my braves, must accompany this chief and his warriors, and, under their protection, wreak vengeance on our enemies."

Patofa, who was a man of very imposing appearance, stepped forward, and after going through several evolutions with a heavy broadsword carved from wood, exceedingly hard, said:

"I pledge my word to fulfill your commands, so far as may be in my power. I promise, by aid of the strangers, to revenge the insults and deaths, our fathers have sustained from the natives of Cofachiqui. My vengeance shall be such, that the memory of past evils shall be wiped away forever. My daring to reappear in your presence will be a token that your commands have been executed. Should the fates deny my hopes, never again shall you see me, never again shall the sun shine upon me. If the enemy deny me death, I will inflict upon myself the punishment my cowardice or evil fortune will merit."

It was indeed a large army which then commenced its march, for it consisted of four thousand native warriors, and four thousand retainers to carry supplies and clothing, and between eight and nine hundred Spaniards. The Indians were plumed and decorated in the highest style of military display. The horses of the Spaniards were gayly caparisoned, and their burnished armor glittered in the sun. Silken banners waving in the breeze and bugle peals echoing over the plains, added both to the beauty and the sublimity of the scene.

The Spaniards conducted their march as in an enemy's country, and according to the established usages of war. They formed in squadrons with a van and rear guard. The natives followed, also in martial array; for they were anxious to show the Spaniards that they were acquainted with military discipline and tactics. Thus in long procession, but without artillery trains or baggage wagons, they moved over the extended plains and threaded the defiles of the forest. At night they invariably encamped at a little distance from each other. Both parties posted their sentinels, and adopted every caution to guard against surprise.

Indeed, it appears that De Soto still had some distrust of his allies, whose presence was uninvited, and with whose company he would gladly have dispensed. The more he reflected upon his situation, the more embarrassing it seemed to him. He was entering a distant and unknown province, ostensibly on a friendly mission, and it was his most earnest desire to secure the good-will and cooperation of the natives. And yet he was accompanied by an army whose openly avowed object was to ravage the country and to butcher the people.

The region upon which they first entered, being a border land between the two hostile nations, was almost uninhabited, and was much of the way quite pathless. It consisted, however, of a pleasant diversity of hills, forests and rivers. The considerable band of hunters which accompanied the native army, succeeded in capturing quite an amount of game for the use of the troops. For seven days the two armies moved slowly over these widely extended plains, when they found themselves utterly bewildered and lost in the intricacies of a vast, dense, tangled forest, through which they could not find even an Indian's trail. The guides professed to be entirely at fault, and all seemed to be alike bewildered.

De Soto was quite indignant, feeling that he had been betrayed and led into an ambush for his destruction. He summoned Patofa to his presence and said to him:

"Why have you, under the guise of friendship, led us into this wilderness, whence we can discover no way of extricating ourselves? I will never believe that among eight thousand Indians there is not one to be found capable of showing us the way to Cofachiqui. It is not at all likely that you who have maintained perpetual war with that tribe, should know nothing of the public road and secret paths leading from one village to another."

Patofa made the following frank and convincing reply.

"The wars that have been waged between these two provinces, have not been carried on by pitched battles nor invasions of either party, but by skirmishes by small bands who resort to the streams and rivers we have crossed, to fish; and also by combats between hunting parties, as the wilderness we have traversed is the common hunting ground of both nations. The natives of Cofachiqui are more powerful and have always worsted us in fight. Our people were therefore dispirited and dared not pass over their own frontiers.

"Do you suspect that I have led your army into these deserts to perish? If so, take what you please. If my head will suffice, take it; if not you may behead every Indian, as they will obey my mandate to the death."

The manner of Patofa was in accordance with these feeling and manly words. De Soto no longer cherished a doubt of his sincerity, and became also convinced that their guides were utterly unable to extricate him. Under these circumstances nothing remained but blindly to press forward or to retrace his steps. They at length found some narrow openings in the forest through which they forced their way until they arrived, just before sunset, upon the banks of a deep and rapid stream which seemed to present an impassable barrier before them.

They had no canoes or rafts with which to cross the river; their food was nearly consumed, as it had been supposed that a supply for seven days would be amply sufficient to enable them to traverse the desert. To turn back was certain death by starvation; to remain where they were was equal destruction; to go forward seemed impossible, for they had not sufficient food to support them even while constructing rafts. It was the darkest hour in all their wanderings. Despair seemed to take possession of all hearts excepting that of De Soto. He still kept up his courage, assuming before his people an untroubled and even cheerful spirit.

The river afforded water to drink. A large grove of pine trees bordering the river, beneath whose fragrant shade they were encamped, sheltered them from the sun. The level and extended plain, dry and destitute of underbrush, presented excellent camping-ground. Food only was wanting. But without this food in a few short days the whole army must perish.

De Soto, that very evening leaving the armies there, took a detachment of horse and foot and set off himself in search of some relief or path of extrication. Late in the night he returned, perplexed and distressed, having accomplished nothing. A council of war was held. It was promptly decided that the armies should remain where they were while detachments were sent in all directions in search of food or of some path of escape.

These detachments left early in the morning and returned late at night having discovered neither road nor corn-field, nor habitation. De Soto then organized four bands of horse and two of foot to go up and down the river, and to penetrate the interior, and to make as wide an exploration as possible within the limit of five days. Each band was accompanied by a large number of natives. Patofa himself went with one of these detachments. A thousand Indian warriors were scattered through the forest in search of a road and such game as could be found. The Governor remained on the banks of the river anxiously awaiting their return.



"The four thousand Indians," writes Mr. Irving, "who remained with him, sallied out every morning and returned at night, some with herbs and roots that were eatable, others with fish, and others again with birds and small animals killed with their bows and arrows. These supplies were, however, by no means sufficient for the subsistence of such a multitude.

"De Soto fared equally with his men in every respect; and, though troubled and anxious for the fate of his great expedition, he wore a sunny countenance to cheer up his followers. These chivalrous spirits appreciated his care and kindness, and to solace him they concealed their sufferings, assumed an air of contentedness, and appeared as happy as though revelling in abundance."

Most of the exploring parties suffered no less from hunger than did their companions who remained behind. Juan De Anasco, after traversing the banks of the river for three days, had his heart gladdened by the sight of a small village. From an eminence he saw that the country beyond was fertile, well cultivated and dotted here and there with hamlets. In the village, for some unexplained reason, he found a large amount of provisions accumulated, consisting mainly of corn. He immediately dispatched four horsemen back to De Soto with the joyful tidings. They took with them such food as they could carry. This proved to be the first village in the long-sought-for province of Cofachiqui.

It will be remembered that Patofa, the commander-in-chief of the native army, had, with a large number of his warriors, accompanied Anasco. He had pledged his word to his chief that he would do everything in his power to harass, pillage and destroy their ancestral foes. Anasco encamped his band a little outside the village. At midnight Patofa and his warriors crept stealthily from the encampment, pillaged the temple which contained many treasures prized by the Indians, and killed and scalped every native whom they met, man, woman or child. When Anasco awoke in the morning and found what they had done, he was terrified. The outrage had been committed by troops under his own command. He was apprehensive that every man in the village, aided by such warriors as could be gathered from around, would rush upon him in revenge, and that he and his enfeebled followers would be destroyed. Immediately he commenced a retreat to meet De Soto, who he doubted not would be promptly on the move to join him.

The four couriers reached the camp in one day, though in their slow exploring tour it had required three days to accomplish the forty miles which they had traversed. The troops were overjoyed at the glad tidings, and immediately prepared to resume their march. Several of their detachments had not yet returned. In order to give them information of the direction which the army had taken, De Soto wrote a letter, placed it in a box, and buried it at the foot of a tree. Upon the bark of the tree, he had these words conspicuously cut: "Dig at the root of this pine, and you will find a letter."

The half famished troops, inspired with new energies, reached the village in a day and a half, where their hunger was appeased. The scattered detachments arrived a few days after. The force of De Soto was too strong for the natives to attack him, notwithstanding the provocation they had received. He found, however, much to his chagrin, that he was utterly unable to restrain the savage propensities of his allies. For seven days the Spaniards sojourned in this frontier village of Cofachiqui. Warlike bands were continually stealing out, penetrating the region around, killing and scalping men, women and children, and committing every conceivable outrage of barbaric warfare.

De Soto could endure this no longer. He called Patofa before him, and told him in very emphatic terms that he must return to his own province. He thanked the chieftain very cordially for his friendly escort, made him a present of knives, clothing, and other valuables, and dismissed him and his followers. Patofa was not unwilling to return. He was highly gratified with the presents he had received, and still more gratified that he had been permitted to wreak vengeance on his hereditary foes.

Two days after his departure, the Spanish army was again in motion, along the banks of the river. Every step they took revealed to them the awful ravages committed by the bands of Patofa. They passed many dwellings and many small hamlets, where the ground was covered with the scalpless bodies of the dead. The natives had fled in terror to the woods, so that not a living being was encountered. There was, however, a plentiful supply of food in the villages, and the army again enjoyed abundance.

The heroic Anasco was sent in advance to search out the way and, if possible, to capture some Indians as guides. He took with him a small band of thirty foot-soldiers, who were ordered to move as noiselessly as possible, that they might, perchance, come upon the natives by surprise. There was quite a broad, good road leading along the banks over which the band advanced. Night came upon them when they were about six miles ahead of the army. They were moving in profound silence and with noiseless step through a grove, when they heard, just before them, the sounds of a village. The barking of dogs, the shouts of children, and the voices of men and women, reached their ears. Pressing eagerly forward, hoping to capture some Indians in the suburbs, they found that there was a sudden turn in the river and that they stood upon the banks of its deep and swiftly flowing flood, with the village on the other side. There was no means of crossing, neither would it have been prudent to have crossed with such small numbers, not knowing the force they might encounter there.

They dispatched couriers back in the night, to inform De Soto of their discovery. By the break of day, the army was again in motion, De Soto himself taking the lead, with one hundred horse and one hundred foot. When he reached the banks, and the natives upon the opposite shore caught sight of his glittering dragoons, on their magnificent steeds, they were struck with amazement and consternation.

It would seem that the language of these different tribes must have been essentially the same, for Juan Ortiz was still their interpreter. He shouted across the river, assuring the natives of the friendly intentions of the Spaniards, and urging them to send some one over to convey a message to their chief. After some little hesitation and deliberation, the Indians launched a large canoe, in which six Indians of venerable appearance took their seats, while quite a number of lusty men grasped the oars. Very rapidly the canoe was driven through the water.

De Soto, who had watched these movements with deep interest, perceived that he was about to be visited by men of much importance. He had therefore brought forward and placed upon the banks a very showy throne, or chair of state, which he always carried with him for such purposes. Here he took his seat, with his retinue of officers around him.

The native chieftains landed without any apparent fear, approached him with three profound reverences, and then with much dignity inquired, "Do you come for peace or for war?"

"I come for peace," De Soto replied, "and seek only an unmolested passage through your land. I need food for my people, and implore your assistance, by means of canoes and rafts, to cross the river."

The Indians replied, that they were themselves somewhat destitute of provisions; that a terrible pestilence the preceding year had swept off many of their inhabitants; and that others in their consternation had fled from their homes, thus neglecting to cultivate the fields.

They said that their chieftain was a young princess who had recently inherited the government, and that they had no doubt that she would receive them with hospitality, and do everything in her power, to promote their welfare. Having thus concluded this friendly interview, the chiefs returned to the other side of the river.

Very soon the Spaniards, who eagerly watched every movement, perceived a decided commotion in the village. A large and highly decorated canoe appeared upon the banks; then quite a gorgeous palanquin was seen borne by four men, descending towards the stream; then several other canoes of imposing structure seemed to be preparing for an aquatic procession. From the palanquin a graceful girl, showily dressed, entered the state canoe and reclined upon cushions in the stern under a canopy. Eight female attendants accompanied her.

The six ambassadors, who had already visited De Soto, took seats in the canoe which led the van, driven as before by a large number of sinewy arms. The royal barge was attached to this canoe and was towed by it. Several other boats, filled with distinguished men, followed in the rear, completing the imposing show.

As the young princess stepped on shore, all the Spaniards were deeply impressed with her dignity, grace and beauty. To their eyes, she was in form and feature as perfect as any image which Grecian artist ever sculptured. Her attendants brought with them a chair of state upon which she took her seat after courteously bowing to the Governor. Through an interpreter they immediately entered into conversation. The princess confirmed the statement of her ambassadors in reference to the pestilence, but offered to do everything in her power to provide them with food. She offered one-half of her own residence to De Soto for his accommodation, and one-half of the houses in her village as barracks for the soldiers. She also promised that by the next day rafts and canoes should be in readiness to transport the Spaniards across the river.

The generous soul of De Soto was deeply touched, and he assured her of his lasting friendship and that of his sovereign. At the close of the interview the princess rose, and as a present, suspended a string of costly pearls around the neck of De Soto. The Governor then rose and presented her with a ring of gold set with a ruby, which she placed upon one of her fingers. Thus terminated this extraordinary interview. What a difference between peace and war!

"Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need for arsenals or forts.

"The warrior's name would be a name abhorred; And every nation that should lift again Its hand against a brother, on its forehead Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain."



CHAPTER XIV.

The Indian Princess.

Crossing the River.—Hospitable Reception.—Attempts to visit the Queen Mother.—Suicide of the Prince.—Futile search for Gold.—The Discovery of Pearls.—The Pearl Fishery.—The Princess a Captive.—Held in Silken Chains.—Her Escape.—Location of Cutifachiqui.—The March Resumed.

The next day after the extraordinary interview which we have described in the last chapter, the princess ordered several large rafts to be constructed, and with these, aided by a number of canoes, the army crossed the rapid stream. Four horses, in attempting to swim the swift river, were carried away and drowned. These animals were so precious that the loss was deplored by the whole army.

When the troops had all crossed, they found very pleasant accommodations provided for them. Some were lodged in the village. For the rest commodious wigwams were erected just outside of the village in a beautiful mulberry grove on the river banks. The province of Cofachiqui was found to be very fertile and quite densely populated. The natives were in complexion nearly as white as the Spaniards. They had agreeable features, graceful forms, and were very frank and amiable in disposition. They did not seem to be fond of war, though often involved in conflicts with their neighbors. According to the custom of the times, all prisoners of war were enslaved and were employed in servile labor. To prevent their escape the cruel expedient was adopted of cutting the main tendon of one leg just above the heel.

The mother of the princess of this tribe was a widow, residing in a retired home about thirty-six miles down the river. De Soto, who was anxious to secure the firm friendship of this interesting people, expressed an earnest desire to see the queen mother. The princess immediately dispatched twelve of her chieftains to urge her mother to visit her, that she might be introduced to the strange visitors, and see the wonderful animals on which they rode.

She however declined the invitation, expressing her very decided disapproval of the conduct of her daughter, as both inexpedient and indelicate, in entering into such friendly relations with utter strangers, of whose ulterior designs she could know nothing. This message, greatly increased the desire of De Soto to have an interview with the queen mother, that he might conciliate her friendship. He therefore dispatched Juan De Anasco, who was alike distinguished for bravery and prudence, with thirty companions on foot, to convey to her presents and friendly messages, and very earnest requests that she would visit them at the court of her daughter.

The princess sent a near relative of the family as guide to this party—a young man about twenty-one years of age, and exceedingly attractive both in person and character. He was richly habited in garments of soft deerskin, beautifully fringed and embroidered, with a head-dress of various colored plumes.

"In his hand he bore a beautiful bow, so highly polished as to appear as if finely enamelled. At his shoulder hung a quiver full of arrows. With a light and elastic step and an animated and gallant air his whole appearance was that of an ambassador, worthy of the young and beautiful princess whom he served."

The morning was somewhat advanced, ere they left the village. It was a beautiful day in a lovely clime. Their route led down the banks of the river through luxuriant and enchanting scenery. After a pleasant walk of ten or twelve miles, they rested in the shade of a grove, for their noonday meal. Their young guide had been very social all the way, entertaining them with information of the region through which they were passing, and of the people. As they were partaking of their refreshments, suddenly the aspect of their young companion became greatly altered. He was silent, thoughtful and apparently deeply depressed. At length he quietly took the quiver from his shoulder, and slowly and seemingly lost in deep reflection, drew out the arrows one by one. They were very beautiful, of the highest possible finish, keenly pointed, and triangularly feathered.

The Spaniards took them up, admired them greatly, and passed them from hand to hand. At length he drew out an arrow barbed with flint, long, and sharp, and shaped like a dagger. Casting an anxious glance around, and seeing the attention of the Spaniards engrossed in examining his weapons, he plunged the keen pointed arrow down his throat, severing an artery, and almost immediately fell dead. The soldiers were shocked and bewildered, not being able to conceive of any reason for the dreadful occurrence. There were several Indian attendants in the company, who seemed to be overwhelmed with distress, uttering loud cries of grief over the corpse.

It subsequently appeared, that the young guide was a great favorite with the queen mother; that he knew that she was very unwilling to have any acquaintance with the Spaniards, and he apprehended that it was their object to seize her and carry her off by violence. The thought that he was guiding them to her retreat overwhelmed him. He could not endure the idea of meeting her, and perhaps of being reproached as her betrayer.

On the other hand, the queen, whom he revered and loved, had commissioned him to conduct the Spaniards to her mother's abode. He did not dare to disobey her commands. Either alternative was more to be dreaded by him than death. The ingenuous young man had, therefore, endeavored to escape from the dilemma by self-destruction.

Juan De Anasco was not only deeply grieved by the fate of his young friend, but also greatly perplexed as to the course he was then to pursue. None of the Indian attendants knew where the widow was concealed. He took several natives prisoners, and anxiously inquired of them respecting the residence of the queen mother. But either they could not, or would not, give him any information. After wandering about fruitlessly until noon of the next day, he returned to the camp, much mortified in reporting to De Soto the utter failure of his expedition.

Two days after his return, an Indian came to him and offered to conduct him down the river in a canoe, to the dwelling of the queen mother. Eagerly he accepted the proposition. Two large canoes, with strong rowers, were prepared. Anasco, with twenty companions, set out on this second expedition. The queen heard of his approach, and, with a few attendants, secretly fled to another retreat far away. After a search of six days, the canoes returned, having accomplished nothing. De Soto relinquished all further endeavors to obtain an interview with the widow.

In the meantime, while Anasco was engaged in these unsuccessful enterprises, De Soto was making very anxious inquiries respecting the silver and the gold which he had been informed was to be found in the province. The princess listened to his description of the yellow metal and the white metal of which he was in search, and said that they were both to be found in great abundance in her territories. She immediately sent out some Indians, to bring him specimens. They soon returned laden with a yellow metal somewhat resembling gold in color, but which proved to be nothing but an alloy of copper. The shining substance which he had supposed was silver, was nothing but a worthless species of mica, or quartz. Thus again, to his bitter disappointment, De Soto awoke from his dreams of golden treasure, to the toils and sorrows of his weary life.

The princess seemed to sympathize with her guest in the bitterness of his disappointment. In her attempts at consolation, she informed him that at the distance of about three miles from where they were, there was a village called Talomeco, which was the ancient capital of the realm; that here there was a vast sepulchre, in which all the chieftains and great warriors had been buried; that their bodies were decorated with great quantities of pearls.

De Soto, with a large retinue of his own officers and of the household of the princess, visited this mausoleum. Much to his surprise, he found there an edifice three hundred feet in length, and one hundred and twenty in breadth, with a lofty roof. The entrance was decorated with gigantic statuary of wood. One of these statues was twelve feet in height. In the interior many statues and carved ornaments were found.

A large number of wooden chests or coffins contained the decaying bodies of the illustrious dead. By the side of each of these there was another smaller chest, containing such valuables as it was probably supposed the chief would need in the spirit-land. Both the Inca and the Portuguese narrative agree in the account of the almost incredible number of pearls there found. It is said that the Spaniards obtained fourteen bushels, and that the princess assured them, that by visiting the mausoleums of the various villages, they could find enough pearls to load down all the horses of the army.

The Spaniards generally were greatly elated at the discovery of these riches. Pearls were estimated at a value almost equal to diamonds. It is said that Queen Cleopatra possessed a single pearl which was valued at three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars. Philip II. of Spain received as a present a pearl, about the size of a pigeon's egg, valued at one hundred and sixty thousand dollars.

De Soto was urged to establish his colony upon this river, which has variously been conjectured to have been the St. Helena, the Oconee, the Ogeechee, and the Savannah. The country was beautiful and fertile; the climate delightful; and apparently an inexhaustible pearl fishery near. It was urged that an agricultural colony could be established on the fertile banks of the river, while from the seaport at its mouth a lucrative trade could be carried on with the mother country for all the rich productions of Spain.

But the persistent spirit of De Soto was not to be turned from its one great all-absorbing object, the search for gold. He urged, and with great show of reason, that, in consequence of the recent pestilence, there was not sufficient provision in the country, to support the army for a month; that by continuing their march they might enter far richer provinces, and might find mines of gold. Should they be disappointed, they could easily return; and in the meantime, the Indians having replanted their land, the fields would wave with abundant golden harvests.

In an army of eight or nine hundred Spanish adventurers, there would of course be many worthless characters, difficult of restraint. De Soto had been in this village several weeks. Notwithstanding all his endeavors to promote peace and friendship, several broils had arisen between the natives and some of the low and degraded of his soldiery. The conduct of these vile men had produced a general feeling of ill-will among the natives. Even the princess herself manifested estrangement. She had become distant and reserved, and was evidently desirous that her no longer welcome guests should take their speedy departure. There were some indications that the princess so far distrusted the Spaniards that, like her more prudent mother, she was about secretly to escape from them by flight.

This would leave the Spaniards in a very embarrassed condition. They needed guides to conduct them through the extended territory of the princess. Heavily armed as they were, they needed porters to carry their burdens of extra clothing and provisions. The flight of the princess would be the signal for the natives, all over the territory, to rise in a war of attempted extermination. The queen mother would doubtless do everything in her power to rouse and stimulate this hostility. The Spaniards thus assailed on every side, destitute of guides, without porters to carry their baggage, and with but little food, would find themselves compelled in self-defence, to cut their way, with blood-dripping sabres, through their foes, to rob their granaries, and to leave behind them a path strown with the dead, and filled with misery.

Again De Soto found himself in a false position. Again he felt constrained to do that which his own conscience told him was unjust. The only possible way, as it seemed to him, by which he could obtain extrication from these awful difficulties, was to seize the person of the princess, his friend and benefactor, and hold her as a captive to secure the good behavior of her subjects. He knew that their love for her was such that so long as she was in his power, they would not enter upon any hostile movement which might bring down vengeance upon her head.

If De Soto had accepted the spirit of the noble letter from Isabella, and had said, "I will no longer persevere in this invasion of the lands of others, which is always plunging me more and more deeply into difficulties,"—had he said frankly to the friendly princess, "I have decided to return to my home, and I solicit your friendly cooperation to assist me on my way;" and had he made her a present, in token of his gratitude, of some of those articles with which he could easily have parted, and which were of priceless value to her, he might doubtless have retired unmolested. Instead of this he followed the infamous example which Pizarro had set him in Peru.

He appointed a guard, who were directed to keep a constant watch upon the princess, so that she could by no possibility escape; at the same time he informing her, in the most courteous tones, that the protection of his army and of her own people rendered it necessary that she should accompany him on his march. He held her in silken chains, treating her with the utmost delicacy and deference. The princess had sufficient shrewdness to affect compliance with this arrangement. It certainly accomplished the desired effect. All strife between the natives and the Spaniards ceased, a sufficient body of porters accompanied the army, and its march was unimpeded. A beautiful palanquin was provided for the princess, and the highest honors were lavished upon her.

Colonel A. J. Pickett, in his interesting and very carefully prepared History of Alabama, speaking of the locality of this village where De Soto tarried so long, and encountered so many adventures, says:

"He entered the territory of the present Georgia at its southwestern border, and successively crossing the Ockmulgee, Oconee, and Ogeechee, finally rested on the banks of the Savannah, immediately opposite the modern Silver Bluff. On the eastern side was the town of Cutifachiqui, where lived an Indian queen, young, beautiful, and unmarried, and who ruled the country around to a vast extent. In 1736 George Golphin, then a young Irishman, established himself as an Indian trader at this point, and gave the old site of Cutifachiqui the name of Silver Bluff. The most ancient Indians informed him that this was the place where De Soto found the Indian princess; and this tradition agrees with that preserved by other old traders, and handed down to me."

According to this statement the village of Cutifachiqui was on the eastern bank of the Savannah river, in Barnwell county, in the State of South Carolina. On the morning of the 4th of May, 1540, De Soto again put his army in motion, taking with him the beautiful queen and her retinue of plumed warriors. All this country was then called Florida. The army advanced rapidly up the eastern bank of the Savannah river, where they forded the stream, and, again entering the present State of Georgia, traversed nearly its whole breadth until they reached the head waters of the Coosa river. Here, at the confluence of the Oostanaula and Etowa rivers, they found a large Indian town called Chiaha, near the present site of Rome.

While on the march across the State of Georgia, the queen, probably dreading to be carried captive beyond her own domain, and aided by an understanding with her retinue, leaped from the palanquin and disappeared in a dense forest through which they were passing. De Soto never saw her or heard from her again. Undoubtedly a band of her warriors were in rendezvous there to receive her.

For five days the adventurers pressed along as rapidly as possible, over a hilly country about sixty miles in breadth. Though well watered, and abounding in beautiful valleys, luxuriant with mulberry groves and rich prairies, it seemed to be quite uninhabited. Having crossed this mountainous region, they reached a populous district called Guachule. The chief had received an intimation of the approach of the Spaniards, and that they came as messengers of peace and not of war. When De Soto and his band, led by native guides whom they had picked up by the way, had arrived within two miles of the village of the chief, they discovered him approaching them with a retinue of five hundred plumed warriors, adorned with glittering robes and weapons in the highest style of semi-barbaric display. The chief was unembarrassed, dignified, and courtly in his address. He received De Soto with truly fraternal kindness, escorted him to his village, which consisted of three hundred spacious houses, in a beautiful valley of running streams at the base of adjacent hills.

The dwelling of the chief was upon a spacious artificial mound, the summit of which was sufficiently broad for the large edifice, leaving a terrace all around it about twelve feet in breadth. Here De Soto remained four days, enjoying the hospitality of the friendly Cacique.

Resuming their journey, the army marched down the banks of a large stream, supposed to be the Etowa, which empties into the Coosa. For five days they continued their march through an uninteresting country, almost destitute of inhabitants, until, having traversed, as they supposed, about ninety miles, they came in sight of a large village, called Chiaha.

De Soto, having arrived opposite the great town of Chiaha, which probably occupied the present site of Rome, crossed the Oostanaula in canoes, and upon rafts made of logs, prepared by the Indians, and took up his quarters in the town. The noble young chief received De Soto with unaffected joy, and made him the following address:

"Mighty Chief:—Nothing could have made me so happy as to be the means of serving you and your warriors. You sent me word from Guaxule to have corn collected to last your army two months. Here I have twenty barns full of the best which the country can afford. If I have not met your wishes respect my tender age, and receive my good-will to do for you whatever I am able."

The Governor responded in a kind manner, and was then conducted to the chief's own house, prepared for his accommodation. The confluence of the Oostanaula and Etowa at this point forms the Coosa. Here De Soto remained for a fortnight, recruiting his wearied men and his still more exhausted horses. It was bright and balmy summer, and the soldiers encamping in a luxuriant mulberry grove a little outside of the town, enjoyed, for a season, rest and abundance. De Soto, as usual, made earnest inquiries for gold. He was informed that about thirty miles north of him there were mines of copper, and also of some metal of the color of copper, but finer, brighter, and softer; and that the natives sometimes melted them together in their manufacture of barbs, spearheads, and hatchets.

This intelligence excited De Soto with new hopes. He had occasionally met on his way natives with hatchets composed of copper and gold melted together. As the province, which was called Chisca, was separated from Chiaha by a pathless wilderness which horses could not traverse, De Soto sent two of his most trusty followers on an exploring tour through the region, conducted by Indian guides. After an absence of ten days they returned with the disappointing report that they found nothing there but copper of different degrees of purity.

The rivers in the vicinity of Chiaha seem to have abounded with pearl oysters, and large numbers of beautiful pearls were obtained. The natives nearly spoiled them all by boring them through with a red-hot rod, that they might string them as bracelets. One day the Cacique presented De Soto with a string of pearls six feet in length, each pearl as large as a filbert. These gems would have been of almost priceless value but for the action of fire upon them.

De Soto expressed some curiosity to see how the pearls were obtained. The Cacique immediately dispatched forty canoes down the river to fish during the night for pearl oysters. In the morning De Soto accompanied the Cacique to the banks of the river where the oysters were collected. Large fires were built, and the oysters placed upon the glowing coals. The heat opened them, and the pearls were sought for. From some of the first thus opened ten or twelve pearls were obtained, about the size of peas. They were all, however, more or less injured by the heat. Col. Pickett says that the oyster mentioned was the muscle, to be found in all the rivers of Alabama.

Again De Soto commenced his journey, leaving the friendly chief and his people well contented with the presents he made them of gayly colored cloths, knives, and other trinkets. Following the banks of the Coosa to the west they soon entered what is now the State of Alabama, and on the second of July came to a large native town named Acoste. The tribe, or nation, inhabiting this region, was famed for its martial prowess. The Cacique, a fierce warrior, did not condescend to advance to meet De Soto, but at the head of fifteen hundred of his soldiers, well armed and gorgeously uniformed, awaited in the public square the approach of the Spanish chief. De Soto encamped his army just outside of the town, and, with a small retinue, rode in to pay his respects to the Cacique.

Some of the vagabond soldiers straggled into the city, and were guilty of some outrages, which led the natives to fall upon them. De Soto, with his accustomed presence of mind, seized a cudgel and assisted the natives in fighting the Spaniards, while at the same moment he dispatched a courier to summon the whole army to his rescue. Peace was soon established, but there was some irritation on both sides. The next morning De Soto was very willing to leave the neighborhood, and the chief was not unwilling to have him.

De Soto crossed the river Coosa to the eastern banks, and journeying along in a southerly direction, at the rate of about twelve miles a day, passed over a fertile and populous region, nearly three hundred miles in extent. It is supposed his path led through the present counties of Benton, Talladega, Coosa, and Tallapoosa, in Alabama. Throughout the whole route they were treated by the natives with the most profuse hospitality, being fed by them liberally, and supplied with guides to lead them from one village to another. The province which De Soto was thus traversing, and which was far-famed for its beauty and fertility, was called Coosa.

"With a delightful climate, and abounding in fine meadows and beautiful little rivers, this region was charming to De Soto and his followers. The numerous barns were full of corn, while acres of that which was growing bent to the warm rays of the sun and rustled in the breeze. In the plains were plum trees, peculiar to the country, and others resembling those of Spain. Wild fruit clambered to the tops of the loftiest trees, and lower branches were laden with delicious Isabella grapes."[E]

[Footnote E: History of Alabama, by Albert James Pickett, p. 17.]

This is supposed to have been the same native grape, called the Isabella, which has since been so extensively cultivated.



CHAPTER XV.

The Dreadful Battle of Mobila.

The Army in Alabama.—Barbaric Pageant.—The Chief of Tuscaloosa.—Native Dignity.—Suspected Treachery of the Chief.—Mobila, its Location and Importance.—Cunning of the Chief.—The Spaniards Attacked.—Incidents of the Battle.—Disastrous Results.

On the 15th of July, 1540, the army came in sight of the metropolitan town of the rich and populous province through which it was passing. The town, like the province, bore the name of Coosa. The army had travelled slowly, so that the native chief, by his swift footmen, had easily kept himself informed of all its movements. When within a mile or two of Coosa, De Soto saw in the distance a very splendid display of martial bands advancing to meet him. The friendly greeting he had continually received disarmed all suspicion of a hostile encounter.

The procession rapidly approached. At its head was the chief, a young man twenty-six years of age, of admirable figure and countenance, borne in a chair palanquin upon the shoulders of four of his warriors. A thousand soldiers, in their most gaudy attire, composed his train. As they drew near, with the music of well-played flutes, with regular tread, their mantles and plumes waving in the breeze, all the Spaniards were alike impressed with the beauty of the spectacle. The chief himself was decorated with a mantle of rich furs gracefully thrown over his shoulders. His diadem was of plumes very brilliantly colored. He addressed De Soto in the following speech:

"Mighty chief, above all others of the earth. Although I come now to receive you, yet I received you many days ago deep in my heart. If I had the whole world it would not give me as much pleasure as I now enjoy at the presence of yourself and your incomparable warriors. My person, lands, and subjects are at your service. I will now march you to your quarters with playing and singing."[F]

[Footnote F: Portuguese Narrative, p. 719.]

De Soto made a suitable response. Then the two armies, numbering, with their attendants, more than two thousand men, commenced their march toward the town. The native chief was borne in his palanquin, and De Soto rode on his magnificent charger by his side. The royal palace was assigned to De Soto, and one-half of the houses in the town were appropriated to the soldiers for their lodgings.

The town of Coosa, which consisted of five hundred houses, was situated on the east bank of the river of the same name, between two creeks now known as Talladega and Tallasehatchee. During a residence of twelve days in this delightful retreat, some slight disturbance arose between some of the natives and some of the Spanish soldiers. It was, however, easily quelled by the prudence and friendly disposition of the chief and the Governor. Indeed, the native chief became so attached to De Soto as to urge him to establish his colony there. Or if he could not consent to that arrangement, at least to spend the winter with him.

"But De Soto," writes Mr. Irving, "was anxious to arrive at the bay of Achusi, where he had appointed Captain Diego Maldonado to meet him in the autumn. Since leaving the province of Xuala he had merely made a bend through the country, and was now striking southerly for the sea-coast."

On the 20th of August the Spanish army, after having spent twenty-five days at Coosa, was again in movement. The chief of Coosa, and a large body of his warriors, accompanied De Soto to their frontiers, evidently as a friendly retinue. The Portuguese Narrative makes the incredible assertion that they were all prisoners, compelled to follow the army for its protection and as guides. With much more probability it is represented that one of the chief's subordinate officers on the frontier was in a state of insurrection, and that upon that account the chief gladly accompanied the Spaniards, hoping to overawe his refractory subjects by appearing among them with such formidable allies.

The Spaniards now entered the territory of Tuscaloosa, who was the most warlike and powerful chieftain of all the southern tribes. His domain comprised nearly the whole of the present States of Alabama and Mississippi. The Tuscaloosa, or Black Warrior river, flowed through one of the richest of his valleys. Though there were no mails or telegraphs in those days, Indian runners conveyed all important intelligence with very considerable rapidity. The chief had heard of the approach of the Spaniards, and the annalists of those days say, we know not with what authority, that he hesitated whether to receive them as friends or foes. Whatever may have been his secret thoughts, he certainly sent his son, a young man of eighteen, with a retinue of warriors, to meet De Soto with proffers of friendship.

The young ambassador was a splendid specimen of manhood, being taller than any Spaniard or Indian in the army, and admirably formed for both strength and agility. In his bearing he was self-possessed and courteous, appearing like a gentleman accustomed to polished society. De Soto was much impressed by his appearance and princely manners. He received him with the utmost kindness, made him several valuable presents, and dismissed him with friendly messages to his father, stating that he cordially accepted of his friendship, and would shortly visit him.

De Soto then crossed the river Tuscaloosa, or Black Warrior, having first taken an affectionate leave of the Cacique of Coosa, who had accompanied him to this frontier river. A journey of two days brought the Spaniards to within six miles of the large village where the chief of Tuscaloosa was awaiting their arrival. As they reached this spot in the evening, they encamped for the night in a pleasant grove. Early the next morning De Soto sent forward a courier to apprise the chief of his arrival, and set out soon after himself, accompanied by a suitable retinue of horsemen.

The chief had, however, by his own scouts, kept himself informed of every movement of the Spaniards. He had repaired with a hundred of his nobles, and a large band of warriors, to the summit of a hill, over which the route of the Spaniards led, and which commanded a magnificent prospect of the country for many leagues around. He was seated on a chair of state, and a canopy of parti-colored deerskin, very softly tanned, and somewhat resembling a large umbrella, was held over his head. His chief men were arranged respectfully and in order near him, while at a little distance his warriors were posted in martial bands. The whole spectacle, crowning the smooth and verdant hill, presented a beautiful pageant.

The Cacique was about forty years of age, and of gigantic proportions, being, like his son, nearly a head taller than any of his attendants. He was well-formed, and his countenance indicated perfect self-possession, intelligence, and great firmness. The sight of the cavaliers approaching with their silken banners, their glittering armor, and bestride their magnificent steeds, must have been astounding in the highest degree to one who had never seen a quadruped larger than a dog. But the proud chief assumed an air of imperturbable gravity and indifference.

One would have supposed that he had been accustomed to such scenes from his childhood. He did not deign even to look upon the horsemen, though some of them endeavored to arrest his attention by causing the animals to prance and rear. Without taking the slightest notice of the cavaliers who preceded De Soto, his eye seemed instantly to discern the Governor. As he approached, the chief courteously arose, and advanced a few steps to meet him. De Soto alighted from his horse, and with Spanish courtesy embraced the chieftain, who, with great dignity, addressed him in the following words:

"Mighty chief, I bid you welcome. I greet you as I would my brother. It is needless to talk long. What I have to say can be said in a few words. You shall know how willing I am to serve you. I am thankful for the things you have sent me, chiefly because they were yours. I am now ready to comply with your desires."

This interview, it is supposed, took place in the present county of Montgomery, Alabama. The whole party then returned to the village, De Soto and the chief walking arm in arm. A spacious house was assigned to De Soto and his suite by the side of that occupied by the Cacique.

After a rest of two days in the village, enjoying the rather cold and reserved, but abundant hospitality of the chief, the Spaniards continued their march. The chief, either for his own pleasure or by persuasion, was induced to accompany him. The most powerful horse in the army was selected to bear his herculean frame; and yet it is said that when the Cacique bestrode him his feet almost touched the ground. De Soto had made him a present of a dress and mantle of rich scarlet cloth Thus habited and mounted, with his towering plumes, he attracted all eyes. The two chieftains rode side by side. Their route led through the counties of Montgomery, Lowndes, and the southeastern part of Dallas, until they came to a large town called Piache, upon the Alabama river. This stream they passed on rafts of log and cane, probably in the upper part of the county of Wilcox. The expedition then turned in a southerly direction, following down the western bank of the Alabama through Wilcox county.

The Indian chief continued proud and distant; was observed to be frequently consulting with his principal men, and often dispatching runners in different directions. De Soto was led to suspect that some treachery was meditated. Two of the Spaniards, who had wandered a little distance in the woods, disappeared, and were never heard of again. It was suspected that they had been killed by the natives. The Cacique being questioned upon the subject, angrily and contemptuously replied:

"Why do you ask me about your people? Am I their keeper?"

These suspicions led De Soto to keep a close watch upon the chief. This was done secretly, while still friendly relations were maintained between them. It was more than probable that the chief was himself a spy in the Spanish camp, and that he was treacherously gathering his powerful armies at some favorable point where he could effectually annihilate the Spaniards, and enrich himself with all their possessions of armor and horses. It was therefore a matter of prudence, almost a vital necessity, for De Soto to throw an invisible guard around the chieftain, that all his movements might be narrowly observed, and that he might not take to sudden flight. With him in their hands as a hostage, the hostility of his warriors might, perhaps, be effectually arrested.

They were now approaching the town of Mobila, which was the capital of the Tuscaloosa kingdom. This town was probably situated at a place now called Choctaw Bluff, on the north or western side of the Alabama river, in the county of Clarke. At that point the Spaniards were at a distance of about twenty-five miles above the confluence of the Alabama and the Tombigbee, and about eighty-five miles from the bay of Pensacola. The town was beautifully situated upon a spacious plain, and consisted of eighty very large houses; each one of which, it was stated, would accommodate a thousand men.

As they approached this important place, De Soto sent forward some very reliable couriers, to observe if there were any indications of conspiracy. Early in the morning of the eighteenth of October, 1540, De Soto with the advance guard of his army, consisting of one hundred footmen, all picked men, accompanied by the Cacique, entered the streets of Mobila. Mr. Irving gives the following interesting account of this important capital:

"This was the stronghold of the Cacique, where he and his principal men resided. It stood in a fine plain, and was surrounded by a high wall, formed of huge trunks of trees driven into the ground, side by side, and wedged together. These were crossed, within and without, by others, small and longer, bound to them by bands made of split reeds and wild vines. The whole was thickly plastered over with a kind of mortar, made of clay and straw trampled together, which filled up every chink and crevice of the wood-work, so that it appeared as if smoothed with a trowel. Throughout its whole circuit, the wall was pierced at the height of a man with loopholes, whence arrows might be discharged at an enemy, and at every fifty paces, it was surmounted by a tower capable of holding seven or eight fighting men."

As De Soto and the chief, accompanied by the advance guard of the Spanish army, and a numerous train of Indian warriors, approached the walls, a large band of native soldiers, in compact martial array, and as usual gorgeously decorated, emerged from one of the gates. They were preceded by a musical band, playing upon Indian flutes, and were followed by a group of dancing girls, remarkably graceful and beautiful. As we have mentioned, De Soto, and the Cacique in his scarlet uniform, rode side by side. Traversing the streets, the whole band arrived in the central square. Here they alighted, and all the horses were led outside the walls to be tethered and fed.

The chief then, through Juan Ortiz, the interpreter, pointed out to De Soto one of the largest houses for the accommodation of himself and suite. Another adjoining house was appropriated to the servants and attendants. Cabins were also immediately reared just outside the walls for the accommodation of the main body of the army.

De Soto was somewhat anxious in view of this arrangement. It was effectually separating him from his soldiers, and was leaving the Cacique entirely at liberty. Some words passed between the chief and the Governor, which led to an angry reply on the part of the Cacique, who turned upon his heel and retired to his own palace. The main body of the army had not yet come up, and if the chief meditated treachery, the moment was very favorable for an attack upon the advance guard only.

Soon after the Cacique had left in an angry mood, one of the cavaliers whom De Soto had sent forward to examine into the state of affairs, entered with the announcement that many circumstances indicated a dark and treacherous plot. He said that more than ten thousand warriors, all evidently picked men, and thoroughly armed, were assembled in the various houses. Not a child was to be found in the town, and scarcely a woman, excepting the few dancing girls who had formed a part of the escort.

The Governor was much alarmed by these tidings. He dispatched orders to all the troops who were with him to be on the alert, and to hold themselves in readiness to repel an assault. At the same time he sent back a courier to inform Luis De Moscoso, who was master of the Spanish camp, of the dangerous posture of affairs. Unfortunately, relying upon the friendly spirit of the natives, he had allowed his men to scatter widely from the camp, hunting and amusing themselves. It was some time before they could be collected.

De Soto, anxious to avert a rupture, wished to get the person of the Cacique in his power. They had been accustomed since they met to eat together. As soon as the attendants of the Governor had prepared some refreshments for him, he sent Juan Ortiz to invite the Cacique to join him in the repast. The interpreter was not permitted to enter the palace, but after a little delay, a messenger announced that the Cacique would come pretty soon.

The Governor waited some time, and again sent Ortiz to repeat the invitation. Again the interpreter returned with the same response. After another interval of waiting, and the Cacique not appearing, Ortiz was sent for the third time. Approaching the door of the palace, he shouted out, in a voice sufficiently loud to be heard by all within, "Tell the chief of Tuscaloosa to come forth. The food is upon the table, and the Governor is waiting for him."

Immediately one of the principal attendants of the Cacique rushed out in a towering passion, and exclaimed:

"Who are these robbers, these vagabonds, who keep calling to my chief of Tuscaloosa, 'come out! come out!' with as little reverence as if he were one of them? By the sun and moon, this insolence is no longer to be borne! Let us cut them to pieces on the spot, and put an end to their wickedness and tyranny!"

Uttering these words, he threw off his superb mantle of marten skins, and seizing a bow from the hands of an attendant, drew an arrow to the head, aiming at a group of Spaniards in the public square. But before the arrow left the bow, a steel-clad cavalier, who had accompanied the interpreter, with one thrust of his sword laid the Indian dead at his feet. The son of the dead warrior, a vigorous young savage, sprang forward and let fly upon the cavalier six or seven arrows, as fast as he could draw them. But they all fell harmless from his armor. He then seized a club and struck him three or four blows over the head with such force that the blood gushed from beneath his casque.

All this was done in an instant, when the cavalier, recovering from his surprise, with two sword-thrusts, laid the young warrior dead in his blood by the side of his father. It seemed as though instantaneously the war-whoop resounded from a thousand throats.

The concealed warriors, ten thousand in number, with hideous yells, like swarming bees, rushed into the streets. De Soto had but two hundred men to meet them. But these were all admirably armed, and most of them protected by coats of mail. He immediately placed himself at the head of his troops, and slowly retreating, fighting fiercely every inch of the way, with his armored men facing the foe, succeeded in withdrawing through the gate out upon the open plain, where his horsemen could operate to better advantage. In the retreat five of the Spaniards were killed and many severely wounded, De Soto being one of the number.

The Indians came rushing out upon the plain in a tumultuous mass, with yells of defiance and victory. But the dragoons soon regained their horses, which had been tethered outside the walls, and whose bodies were much protected from the arrows of the natives; and then, in a terrific charge, one hundred steel-clad men, cutting to the right hand and to the left, maddened by the treachery of which they had been the victims, plunged into the densest masses of their foes, and every sabre-blow was death to a half-naked Indian. The slaughter was awful. Brave as the Indians were, they were thrown into a panic, and fled precipitately into the town.

In the retreat from the town, about twenty of the Spaniards had been cut off from their comrades, and had taken refuge in the house assigned to the Governor. Here they valiantly defended themselves against fearful odds. The bold storming of the place by the Spanish troops rescued them from their perilous position. But now all the warriors of both parties crowded together in the public square, fought hand to hand with a ferocity which could not be surpassed. Though the natives were far more numerous than their foes, and were equally brave and strong, still the Spaniards had a vast superiority over them in their bucklers, their impenetrable armor, and their long, keen sabres of steel.

De Soto, conscious that the very existence of his army depended upon the issue of the conflict, was ever in the thickest of the battle, notwithstanding the severity of the wound from which he was suffering. At length, to drive his foes from the protection of their houses, the torch was applied in many places. The timber of which they were built was dry almost as tinder. Soon the whole place was in flames, the fiery billows surging to and fro like a furnace. All alike fled from the conflagration. The horsemen were already upon the plain, and they cut down the fugitive Indians mercilessly.

The sun was then sinking; Mobila was in ruins, and its flaming dwellings formed the funeral pyre of thousands of the dead. The battle had lasted nine hours. To the Spaniards it was one of the most terrible calamities. Eighty-two of their number were slain. Nearly all the rest were more or less severely wounded. Forty-five horses had been shot—an irreparable loss which all the army deeply mourned.

In entering the city, they had piled their camp equipage against the walls. This was all consumed, consisting of clothing, armor, medicines, and all the pearls which they had collected. The disaster to the natives was still more dreadful. It is estimated that six thousand of their number perished by the sword or the flames. The fate of the chieftain is not with certainty known. It is generally supposed that he was slain and was consumed in the flames of his capital.

The situation of the Spanish army that night was distressing in the highest degree. They were hungry, exhausted, dejected, and seventeen hundred dangerous wounds demanded immediate attention. There was but one surgeon of the expedition who survived, and he was a man of but little skill.

De Soto forgot himself and his wound in devotion to the interests of his men. Foraging parties were sent in all directions to obtain food for the sufferers, and straw for bedding. Here the army was compelled many days to remain to recruit from the awful disaster with which it had been so suddenly overwhelmed.



CHAPTER XVI.

Days of Darkness.

The Melancholy Encampment.—The Fleet at Pensacola.—Singular Resolve of De Soto.—Hostility of the Natives.—Beautiful Scenery.—Winter Quarters on the Yazoo.—Feigned Friendship of the Cacique.—Trickery of Juan Ortiz.—The Terrible Battle of Chickasaw.—Dreadful Loss of the Spaniards.

For twenty-three days the Spaniards remained in their miserable quarters, nursing the sick and the wounded. As nearly all their baggage had been consumed in the flames, they were in a condition of extreme destitution and suffering. Parties, of those who were least disabled, were sent on foraging expeditions, penetrating the country around to a distance of about twelve miles. They found the villages deserted by the terror-stricken inhabitants. But they obtained a sufficient supply of food to meet their immediate wants. In the thickets and ravines they found the bodies of many Indians, who had died of their wounds, and had been left unburied by their companions. They also found in many of the deserted hamlets, wounded Indians, who could go no farther, and who were in a starving and dying condition. De Soto kindly ordered that their wounds should be dressed, and that they should be fed and nursed just as tenderly as his own men. Several captives were taken. De Soto inquired of them if another attack were meditated. They replied that all their warriors were slain; that none were left to renew the battle; that their chief had sent his son to watch the movements of the Spaniards, and had summoned his warriors from a great distance for their extermination. Nearly all were to be slain. The survivors were to be held as slaves. All their possessions and especially the magnificent animals they rode, were to be divided as the spoils of the conqueror. They said that their chief, upon the arrival of De Soto with his advance guard, was holding a council with his officers, to decide whether they should immediately attack those who had already arrived, or wait until the whole army was within their power. The passion and imprudence of one of their generals had precipitated the conflict.

The loss of the natives was even greater than De Soto had at first imagined. The thousands of Indian warriors who were within the spacious houses, shooting their arrows through windows, doors and loopholes, were many of them cut off from all escape, by the devouring flames. Bewildered, blinded, stifled by the smoke, and encircled by the billowy fire, they miserably perished.

While De Soto was thus encamped around the smouldering ruins of Mobila, he heard of the arrival of his fleet at Pensacola, then called the bay of Achusi. As he was but about one hundred miles from that point, an easy march of a few days would bring him to reinforcements and abundant supplies. The tidings of their arrival at first gave him great satisfaction. His determined spirit was still unvanquished. He immediately resolved to establish his colony on the shores of Pensacola Bay, whence he could have constant water communication with Cuba and with Spain. Having obtained a fresh supply of military stores and recruits from the ships, he would recommence his pursuit after gold.

While one cannot but condemn his persistence in a ruinous course, the invincible spirit it develops wins admiration. Indeed if we accept the facts of the affair at Mobila, as above described, and those facts seem to be fully corroborated by a careful examination of all the reliable annalists of those days, impartial history cannot severely condemn De Soto in that dreadful occurrence. But it cannot be denied that he would have acted much more wisely, had he followed the counsel of Isabella, previously given, and withdrawn from scenes thus fraught with violence, cruelty and blood.

As De Soto was conversing with some of his officers, of his plan of still prosecuting his journey in search of gold, he was told, not a little to his dismay, that his soldiers would not follow him. It was said that they were all thoroughly disheartened, and anxious to return to their homes, and that immediately upon reaching their ships, they would insist upon reembarking, and abandoning a land where they had thus far encountered only disasters.

The thought of returning to Cuba an impoverished man, having utterly failed in his expedition, surrounded by ragged and clamorous followers, and thus in disgrace, was to De Soto dreadful. Not making sufficient allowance for the difference in those respects between himself and his followers, he found it difficult to credit the representations which had been made to him. He therefore dressed himself in a disguise, and secretly wandered about by night among the frail huts of the soldiers, and soon found, by listening to their conversation, his worst fears confirmed. It became clear to his mind that immediately on his return to the ships, his present followers would disband and shift for themselves, while it would be in vain for him to attempt to raise another army.

Speaking of the distress with which these considerations oppressed the mind of De Soto, Mr. Irving well says, referring in confirmation of his statement, both to the account given by the Portuguese Narrative, and that by the Inca:

"Should his present forces desert him, therefore, he would remain stripped of dignity and command, blasted in reputation, his fortune expended in vain, and his enterprise, which had caused so much toil and trouble, a subject of scoffing rather than renown. The Governor was a man extremely jealous of his honor; and as he reflected upon these gloomy prospects, they produced sudden and desperate resolves. He disguised his anger and his knowledge of the schemes he had overheard, but he determined to frustrate them by turning back upon the coast, striking again into the interior, and never seeking the ships nor furnishing any tidings of himself, until he had crowned his enterprise gloriously by discovering new regions of wealth like those of Peru and Mexico.