ANCIENT FLORIDA.
BY JOHN GILMARY SHEA, LL.D.
THE credit of being the first to explore our Atlantic coast has not yet
been positively awarded by critical historians. Ramusio preserves the
report of a person whom he does not name, which asserts that Sebastian
Cabot claimed for his father and himself, in the summer of 1497, to
have run down the whole coast, from Cape Breton to the latitude of
Cuba; but the most recent and experienced writer on Cabot treats the
claim as unfounded.[792]
The somewhat sceptical scholars of our day have shown little
inclination to adopt the theory of Francisco Adolpho de Varnhagen, that
Americus Vespucius on his first voyage reached Honduras in 1497, and
during the ensuing year ran along the northern shore of the Gulf of
Mexico, doubled the Florida cape, and then sailed northward along our
Atlantic coast to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, where he built a vessel and
sailed to Cadiz.[793]
Although Columbus made his first landfall on one of the Bahamas, and
Cuba was soon after occupied, no definite knowledge seems to have
been obtained of the great mainland so near them. There is nothing
in narrative or map to betray any suspicion of its existence prior to
the year 1502, when a map executed in Lisbon at the order of Cantino,
an Italian merchant, for Hercules d’Este, shows a mainland north of
Cuba, terminating near that island in a peninsula resembling Florida.
The tract of land thus shown has names of capes and rivers, but they
can be referred to no known exploration. To some this has seemed to be
but a confused idea of Cuba as mainland;[794] by others it is regarded
as a vague idea of Yucatan. But Harrisse in his _Corte-Real_, where he
reproduces the map, maintains that “between the end of 1500 and the
summer of 1502 navigators, whose name and nationality are unknown,
but whom we presume to be Spaniards, discovered, explored, and named
the part of the shore of the United States which from the vicinity of
Pensacola Bay runs along the Gulf of Mexico to the Cape of Florida,
and, turning it, runs northward along the Atlantic coast to about the
mouth of the Chesapeake or Hudson.”[795]
But leaving these three claims in the realm of conjecture and doubt, we
come to a period of more certain knowledge.
The Lucayos of the Bahamas seem to have talked of a great land of
Bimini not far from them. The Spaniards repeated the story; and in the
edition of Peter Martyr’s _Decades_ published in 1511 is a map on which
a large island appears, named “Illa de Beimeni, parte.”[796]
Discovery had taken a more southerly route; no known Spanish vessel
had passed through the Bahama channel or skirted the coast. But some
ideas must have prevailed, picked up from natives of the islands, or
adventurous pilots who had ventured farther than their instructions
authorized. Stories of an island north of Hispaniola, with a fountain
whose waters conferred perpetual youth, had reached Peter Martyr in
Spain, for in the same edition of his _Decades_ he alludes to the
legends.
John Ponce de Leon, who had accompanied Columbus on his second voyage,
and had since played his part bravely amid the greatest vicissitudes,
resolved to explore and conquer Bimini. He had friends at Court, and
seems to have been a personal favorite of the King, who expressed a
wish for his advancement.[797] The patent he solicited was based on
that originally issued to Columbus; but the King laughingly said, that
it was one thing to grant boundless power when nothing was expected
to come of it, and very different to do so when success was almost
certain. Yet on the 23d of February, 1512, a royal grant empowered
John Ponce de Leon “to proceed to discover and settle the Island
of Bimini.”[798] The patent was subject to the condition that the
island had not been already discovered. He was required to make the
exploration within three years, liberty being granted to him to touch
at any island or mainland not subject to the King of Portugal. If he
succeeded in his expedition he was to be governor of Bimini for life,
with the title of _adelantado_.[799]
The veteran immediately purchased a vessel, in order to go to Spain
and make preparations for the conquest of Bimini. But the authorities
in Porto Rico seized his vessel; and the King, finding his services
necessary in controlling the Indians, sent orders to the Council of the
Indies to defer the Bimini expedition, and gave Ponce de Leon command
of the fort in Porto Rico.[800]
Thus delayed in the royal service, Ponce de Leon was unable to obtain
vessels or supplies till the following year. He at last set sail from
the port of San German in Porto Rico in March, 1513,[801] with three
caravels, taking as pilot Anton de Alaminos, a native of Palos who
had as a boy accompanied Columbus, and who was long to associate his
own name with explorations of the Gulf of Mexico. They first steered
northeast by north, and soon made the Caicos, Yaguna, Amaguayo, and
Manigua. After refitting at Guanahani, Ponce de Leon bore northwest;
and on Easter Sunday (March 27) discovered the mainland, along which he
ran till the 2d of April, when he anchored in 30° 8’ and landed. On the
8th he took possession in the name of the King of Spain, and named the
country—which the Lucayos called Cancio—Florida, from Pascua Florida,
the Spanish name for Easter Sunday.
The vessels then turned southward, following the coast till the 20th,
when Ponce landed near Abayoa, a cluster of Indian huts. On attempting
to sail again, he met such violent currents that his vessels could make
no headway, and were forced to anchor, except one of the caravels,
which was driven out of sight. On landing at this point Ponce found
the Indians so hostile that he was obliged to repel their attacks by
force. He named a river Rio de la Cruz; and, doubling Cape Corrientes
on the 8th of May, sailed on till he reached a chain of islands, to
which he gave the name of the Martyrs. On one of these he obtained wood
and water, and careened a caravel. The Indians were very thievish,
endeavoring to steal the anchors or cut the cables, so as to seize the
ships. He next discovered and named the Tortugas. After doubling the
cape, he ran up the western shore of Florida to a bay, in 27° 30’,
which for centuries afterward bore the name of Juan Ponce. There are
indications that before he turned back he may have followed the coast
till it trended westward. After discovering Bahama he is said to have
despatched one caravel from Guanima under John Perez de Ortubia, with
Anton de Alaminos, to search for Bimini, while he himself returned
to Porto Rico, which he reached September 21. He was soon followed by
Ortubia, who, it is said, had been successful in his search for Bimini.
Although Ponce de Leon had thus explored the Florida coast, and added
greatly to the knowledge of the Bahama group, his discoveries are not
noted in the editions of Ptolemy which appeared in the next decade, and
which retained the names of the Cantino map. The Ribeiro map (1529)
gives the Martyrs and Tortugas, and on the mainland Canico,—apparently
Cancio, the Lucayan name of Florida. In the so-called Leonardo da
Vinci’s Mappemonde, Florida appears as an island in a vast ocean that
rolls on to Japan.[802]
Elated with his success, John Ponce de Leon soon after sailed to
Spain; and, obtaining an audience of the King,—it is said through the
influence of his old master, Pero Nuñez de Guzman, Grand Comendador
of Calatrava,—gave the monarch a description of the attractive land
which he had discovered. He solicited a new patent for its conquest
and settlement; and on the 27th of September, 1514, the King empowered
him to go and settle “the Island of Brimini and the Island Florida”
which he had discovered under the royal orders. He was to effect
this in three years from the delivery of the _asiento_; but as he
had been employed in His Majesty’s service, it was extended so that
this term was to date from the day he set sail for his new province.
After reducing the Caribs, he was empowered to take of the vessels and
men employed in that service whatever he chose in order to conquer
and settle Florida. The natives were to be summoned to submit to the
Catholic Faith and the authority of Spain, and they were not to be
attacked or captured if they submitted. Provision was made as to the
revenues of the new province, and orders were sent to the viceroy, Don
Diego Columbus, to carry out the royal wishes.[803]
The Carib war was not, however, terminated as promptly as the King and
his officers desired. Time passed, and adventurers in unauthorized
expeditions to Florida rendered the Indians hostile.[804] It was not
till 1521 that Ponce de Leon was able to give serious thought to a
new expedition. His early hopes seem to have faded, and with them the
energy and impulsiveness of his youth. He had settled his daughters
in marriage, and, free from domestic cares, offered himself simply to
continue to serve the King as he had done for years. Writing to Charles
V. from Porto Rico on the 10th of February, 1521, he says:—
“Among my services I discovered, at my own cost and charge, the Island
Florida and others in its district, which are not mentioned as being
small and useless; and now I return to that island, if it please God’s
will, to settle it, being enabled to carry a number of people with
which I shall be able to do so, that the name of Christ may be praised
there, and Your Majesty served with the fruit that land produces.
And I also intend to explore the coast of said island further, and
see whether it is an island, or whether it connects with the land
where Diego Velasquez is, or any other; and I shall endeavor to learn
all I can. I shall set out to pursue my voyage hence in five or six
days.”[805]
[Illustration: PONCE DE LEON.
Fac-simile of an engraving in Herrera, edition of 1728.]
As he wrote to the Cardinal of Tortosa, he had expended all his
substance in the King’s service; and if he asked favors now it was “not
to treasure up or to pass this miserable life, but to serve His Majesty
with them and his person and all he had, and settle the land that he
had discovered.”[806]
He went prepared to settle, carrying clergymen for the colonists,
friars to found Indian missions, and horses, cattle, sheep, and swine.
Where precisely he made the Florida coast we do not know; but it is
stated that on attempting to erect dwellings for his colonists he was
attacked by the natives, who showed great hostility. Ponce himself,
while leading his men against his assailants, received so dangerous an
arrow wound, that, after losing many of his settlers by sickness and at
the hands of the Indians, he abandoned the attempt to plant a colony in
Florida, which had so long been the object of his hopes; and taking all
on board his vessels, he sailed to Cuba. There he lingered in pain, and
died of his wound.[807]
John Ponce de Leon closed his long and gallant career without solving
the problem whether Florida was an island or part of the northern
continent. Meanwhile others, following in the path he had opened,
were contributing to a more definite knowledge. Thus Diego Miruelo, a
pilot, sailed from Cuba in 1516 on a trading cruise; and running up
the western shore of the Floridian peninsula, discovered a bay which
long bore his name on Spanish maps, and was apparently Pensacola. Here
he found the Indians friendly, and exchanged his store of glass and
steel trinkets for silver and gold. Then, satisfied with his cruise,
and without making any attempt to explore the coast, he returned to
Cuba.[808]
The next year Francis Hernandez de Cordova[809] sent from Cuba on the
8th of February two ships and a brigantine, carrying one hundred and
ten men, with a less humane motive than Miruelo’s; for Oviedo assures
us that his object was to capture on the Lucayos, or Bahama Islands,
a cargo of Indians to sell as slaves. His object was defeated by
storms; and the vessels, driven from their course, reached Yucatan,
near Cape Catoche, which he named. The Indians here were as hostile
as the elements; and Hernandez, after several sharp engagements with
the natives, in which almost every man was wounded, was sailing back,
when storms again drove his vessels from their course. Unable to make
the Island of Cuba, Alaminos, the pilot of the expedition, ran into a
bay on the Florida coast, where he had been with Ponce de Leon on his
first expedition. While a party which had landed were procuring water,
they were attacked with the utmost fury by the Indians, who, swarming
down in crowds, assailed those still in the boats. In this engagement
twenty-two of the Indians were killed, six of the Spaniards in the
landing party were wounded,—including Bernal Diaz, who records the
event in his History,—and four of those in the boats, among the number
Anton de Alaminos, the pilot. The only man in the expedition who had
come away from Yucatan unwounded, a soldier named Berrio, was acting as
sentry on shore, and fell into the hands of the Indians. The commander
himself, Hernandez de Cordova, reached Cuba only to die of his wounds.
This ill-starred expedition led to two other projects of settlement
and conquest. Diego Velasquez, governor of Cuba, the friend and host
of Hernandez, obtained a grant, which was referred to by Ponce de Leon
in his final letter to the King, and which resulted in the conquest
of Mexico;[810] and Francis de Garay, governor of Jamaica, persuaded
by Alaminos to enter upon an exploration of the mainland, obtained
permission in due form from the priors of the Order of St. Jerome, then
governors of the Indies, and in 1519 despatched four caravels, well
equipped, with a good number of men, and directed by good pilots, to
discover some strait in the mainland,—then the great object of search.
Alonzo Alvarez de Pineda, the commander of the expedition, reached the
coast within the limits of the grant of Ponce de Leon, and endeavored
to sail eastward so as to pass beyond and continue the exploration.
Unable, from headwinds, to turn the Cape of Florida, he sailed westward
as far as the River Pánuco, which owes its name to him. Here he
encountered Cortés and his forces, who claimed the country by actual
possession.
The voyage lasted eight or nine months, and possession was duly taken
for the King at various points on the coast. Sailing eastward again,
Garay’s lieutenant discovered a river of very great volume, evidently
the Mississippi.[811] Here he found a considerable Indian town, and
remained forty days trading with the natives and careening his vessels.
He ran up the river, and found it so thickly inhabited that in a space
of six leagues he counted no fewer than forty Indian hamlets on the two
banks.
According to their report, the land abounded in gold, as the natives
wore gold ornaments in their noses and ears and on other parts of the
body. The adventurers told, too, of tribes of giants and of pigmies;
but declared the natives to have been friendly, and well disposed to
receive the Christian Faith.
Wild as these statements of Pineda’s followers were, the voyage settled
conclusively the geography of the northern shore of the Gulf, as it
proved that there was no strait there by which ships could reach Asia.
Florida was no longer to be regarded as an island, but part of a vast
continent. The province discovered for Garay received the name of
Amichel.
Garay applied for a patent authorizing him to conquer and settle the
new territory, and one was issued at Burgos in 1521. By its tenor
Christopher de Tapia, who had been appointed governor of the territory
discovered by Velasquez, was commissioned to fix limits between Amichel
and the discoveries of Velasquez on the west and those of Ponce de
Leon on the east. On the map given in Navarrete,[812] Amichel extends
apparently from Cape Roxo to Pensacola Bay.
After sending his report and application to the King, and without
awaiting any further authority, Garay seems to have deemed it prudent
to secure a footing in the territory; and in 1520 sent four caravels
under Diego de Camargo to occupy some post near Pánuco. The expedition
was ill managed. One of the vessels ran into a settlement established
by Cortés and made a formal demand of Cortés himself for a line of
demarcation, claiming the country for Garay. Cortés seized some of the
men who landed, and learned all Camargo’s plans. That commander, with
the rest of his force, attempted to begin a settlement at Pánuco; but
the territory afforded no food, and the party were soon in such straits
that, unable to wait for two vessels which Garay was sending to their
aid, Camargo despatched a caravel to Vera Cruz to beg for supplies.[813]
In 1523 Garay equipped a powerful fleet and force to conquer and settle
Amichel. He sailed from Jamaica at the end of June with the famous
John de Grijalva, discoverer of Yucatan, as his lieutenant. His force
comprised thirteen vessels, bearing one hundred and thirty-six cavalry
and eight hundred and forty infantry, with a supply of field-pieces. He
reached Rio de las Palmas on the 25th of July, and prepared to begin a
settlement; but his troops, alarmed at the unpromising nature of the
country, insisted on proceeding southward. Garay yielded, and sailed to
Pánuco, where he learned that Cortés had already founded the town of
San Esteban del Puerto. Four of his vessels were lost on the coast, and
one in the port. He himself, with the rest of his force, surrendered to
Cortés. He died in Mexico, while still planning a settlement at Rio de
las Palmas; but with his death the province of Amichel passed out of
existence.
Thus the discoveries of Ponce de Leon and of Garay, with those of
Miruelos, made known, by ten years’ effort, the coast-line from the Rio
Grande to the St. John’s in Florida.
* * * * *
The next explorations were intended to ascertain the nature of our
Atlantic coast north of the St. John’s.
In 1520 Lucas Vasquez de Ayllon, one of the auditors of the Island of
St. Domingo, though possessed of wealth, honors, and domestic felicity,
aspired to the glory of discovering some new land, and making it the
seat of a prosperous colony. Having secured the necessary license, he
despatched a caravel under the command of Francisco Gordillo, with
directions to sail northward through the Bahamas, and thence strike
the shore of the continent. Gordillo set out on his exploration, and
near the Island of Lucayoneque, one of the Lucayuelos, descried another
caravel. His pilot, Alonzo Fernandez Sotil, proceeded toward it in
a boat, and soon recognized it as a caravel commanded by a kinsman
of his, Pedro de Quexos, fitted out in part, though not avowedly,
by Juan Ortiz de Matienzo, an auditor associated with Ayllon in the
judiciary. This caravel was returning from an unsuccessful cruise among
the Bahamas for Caribs,—the object of the expedition being to capture
Indians in order to sell them as slaves. On ascertaining the object
of Gordillo’s voyage, Quexos proposed that they should continue the
exploration together. After a sail of eight or nine days, in which
they ran little more than a hundred leagues, they reached the coast of
the continent at the mouth of a considerable river, to which they gave
the name of St. John the Baptist, from the fact that they touched the
coast on the day set apart to honor the Precursor of Christ. The year
was 1521, and the point reached was, according to the estimate of the
explorers, in latitude 33° 30′.[814]
Boats put off from the caravels and landed some twenty men on the
shore; and while the ships endeavored to enter the river, these
men were surrounded by Indians, whose good-will they gained by
presents.[815]
Some days later, Gordillo formally took possession of the country in
the name of Ayllon, and of his associate Diego Caballero, and of the
King, as Quexos did also in the name of his employers on Sunday, June
30, 1521. Crosses were cut on the trunks of trees to mark the Spanish
occupancy.[816]
Although Ayllon had charged Gordillo to cultivate friendly relations
with the Indians of any new land he might discover,[817] Gordillo
joined With Quexos in seizing some seventy of the natives, with whom
they sailed away, without any attempt to make an exploration of the
coast.
On the return of the vessel to Santo Domingo, Ayllon condemned his
captain’s act; and the matter was brought before a commission, presided
over by Diego Columbus, for the consideration of some important
affairs. The Indians were declared free, and it was ordered that they
should be restored to their native land at the earliest possible
moment. Meanwhile they were to remain in the hands of Ayllon and
Matienzo.
The latter made no attempt to pursue the discovery; but Ayllon,
adhering to his original purpose, proceeded to Spain with
Francisco,—one of the Indians, who told of a giant king and many
provinces,[818]—and on the 12th of June, 1523, obtained a royal
_cédula_.[819] Under this he was to send out vessels in 1524, to run
eight hundred leagues along the coast, or till he reached lands already
discovered; and if he discovered any strait leading to the west, he
was to explore it. No one was to settle within the limits explored by
him the first year, or within two hundred leagues beyond the extreme
points reached by him north and south; the occupancy of the territory
was to be effected within four years; and as the conversion of the
natives was one of the main objects, their enslavement was forbidden,
and Ayllon was required to take out religious men of some Order to
instruct them in the doctrines of Christianity. He obtained a second
_cédula_ to demand from Matienzo the Indians in his hands in order to
restore them to their native country.[820]
On his return to the West Indies, Ayllon was called on the King’s
service to Porto Rico; and finding it impossible to pursue his
discovery, the time for carrying out the _asiento_ was, by a _cédula_
of March 23, 1524, extended to the year 1525.[821]
To secure his rights under the _asiento_, he despatched two caravels
under Pedro de Quexos to the newly discovered land early in 1525. They
regained the good-will of the natives and explored the coast for two
hundred and fifty leagues, setting up stone crosses with the name of
Charles V. and the date of the act of taking possession. They returned
to Santo Domingo in July, 1525, bringing one or two Indians from each
province, who might be trained to act as interpreters.[822]
Meanwhile Matienzo began legal proceedings to vacate the _asiento_
granted by the King to Ayllon, on the ground that it was obtained
surreptitiously, and in fraud of his own rights as joint discoverer.
His witnesses failed to show that his caravel had any license to
make a voyage of exploration, or that he took any steps to follow up
the discovery made; but the suit embarrassed Ayllon, who was fitting
out four vessels to sail in 1526, in order to colonize the territory
granted to him. The armada from Spain was greatly delayed; and as he
expected by it a store of artillery and muskets, as well as other
requisites, he was at great loss. At last, however, he sailed from
Puerto de la Plata with three large vessels,—a caravel, a breton, and
a brigantine,—early in June, 1526.[823] As missionaries he took the
famous Dominican, Antonio de Montesinos, the first to denounce Indian
slavery, with Father Antonio de Cervantes and Brother Pedro de Estrada,
of the same Order. The ships carried six hundred persons of both sexes,
including clergymen and physicians, besides one hundred horses.
They reached the coast, not at the San Juan Bautista, but at another
river, at 33° 40´, says Navarrete, to which they gave the name of
Jordan.[824] Their first misfortune was the loss of the brigantine; but
Ayllon immediately set to work to replace it, and built a small vessel
such as was called a _gavarra_,—the first instance of ship-building
on our coast. Francisco, his Indian guide, deserted him; and parties
sent to explore the interior brought back such unfavorable accounts
that Ayllon resolved to seek a more fertile district. That he sailed
northward there can be little doubt; his original _asiento_ required
him to run eight hundred leagues along the coast, and he, as well as
Gomez, was to seek a strait or estuary leading to the Spice Islands.
The Chesapeake was a body of water which it would be imperative on him
to explore, as possibly the passage sought. The soil of the country
bordering on the bay, superior to that of the sandy region south of
it, would seem better suited for purposes of a settlement. He at last
reached Guandape, and began the settlement of San Miguel, where the
English in the next century founded Jamestown.[825]
Here he found only a few scattered Indian dwellings of the communal
system, long buildings, formed of pine posts at the side, and covered
with branches, capable of holding, in their length of more than a
hundred feet, a vast number of families. Ayllon selected the most
favorable spot on the bank, though most of the land was low and swampy.
Then the Spaniards began to erect houses for their shelter, the negro
slaves—first introduced here—doing the heaviest portion of the toil.
Before the colonists were housed, winter came on. Men perished of
cold on the caravel “Catalina,” and on one of the other vessels a
man’s legs were frozen so that the flesh fell off. Sickness broke out
among the colonists, and many died. Ayllon himself had sunk under the
pestilential fevers, and expired on St. Luke’s Day, Oct. 18, 1526.
He made his nephew, John Ramirez, then in Porto Rico, his successor as
head of the colony, committing the temporary administration to Francis
Gomez. Troubles soon began. Gines Doncel and Pedro de Bazan, at the
head of some malcontents, seized and confined Gomez and the _alcaldes_,
and began a career of tyranny. The Indians were provoked to hostility,
and killed several of the settlers; the negroes, cruelly oppressed,
fired the house of Doncel. Then two settlers, Oliveros and Monasterio,
demanded the release of the lawful authorities. Swords were drawn;
Bazan was wounded and taken, Doncel fled, but was discovered near his
blazing house. Gomez and his subordinates, restored to power, tried and
convicted Bazan, who was put to death.
Such were the stormy beginnings of Spanish rule in Virginia. It is not
to be wondered at that with one consent the colonists soon resolved to
abandon San Miguel de Guandape. The body of Ayllon was placed on board
a tender, and they set sail; but it was not destined to reach a port
and receive the obsequies due his rank. The little craft foundered; and
of the five hundred who sailed from Santo Domingo only one hundred and
fifty returned to that island.
* * * * *
Contemporaneous with the explorations made by and under Ayllon was an
expedition in a single vessel sent out by the Spanish Government in
1524 under Stephen Gomez, a Portuguese navigator who had sailed under
Magallanes, but had returned in a somewhat mutinous manner. He took
part in a congress of Spanish and Portuguese pilots held at Badajoz
to consider the probability of finding a strait or channel north
of Florida by which vessels might reach the Moluccas. To test the
question practically, Charles V. ordered Gomez to sail to the coast
of Bacallaos, or Newfoundland and Labrador, and examine the coast
carefully, in order to ascertain whether any such channel existed.
Gomez fitted out a caravel at Corunna, in northern Spain, apparently
in the autumn of 1524, and sailed across. After examining the Labrador
coast, he turned southward and leisurely explored the whole coast from
Cape Race to Florida, from which he steered to Santiago de Cuba, and
thence to Corunna, entering that port after ten months’ absence. He
failed to discover the desired channel, and no account in detail of
his voyage is known; but the map of Ribeiro,[826] drawn up in 1529,
records his discoveries, and on its coast-line gives names which were
undoubtedly bestowed by him, confirming the statement that he sailed
southerly. From this map and the descriptions of the coast in Spanish
writers soon after, in which descriptions mention is made of his
discoveries, we can see that he noted and named in his own fashion
what we now know as Massachusetts Bay, Cape Cod, Narragansett Bay, the
Connecticut, Hudson, and Delaware rivers.
This voyage completed the exploration of our coast from the Rio Grande
to the Bay of Fundy; yet Sebastián Cabot in 1536 declared that it
was still uncertain whether a single continent stretched from the
Mississippi to Newfoundland.[827]
* * * * *
The success of Cortés filled the Spanish mind with visions of empires
in the north rivalling that of Mexico, which but awaited the courage of
valiant men to conquer.
Panfilo de Narvaez, after being defeated by Cortés, whom he was sent to
supersede,[828] solicited of Charles V. a patent under which he might
conquer and colonize the country on the Gulf of Mexico, from Rio de
Palmas to Florida. A grant was made, under which he was required to
found two or more towns and erect two fortresses. He received the title
of _adelantado_, and was empowered to enslave all Indians who, after
being summoned in due form, would not submit to the Spanish King and
the Christian Faith. In an official document he styles himself Governor
of Florida, Rio de Palmas, and Espiritu Santo,—the Mississippi.[829]
Narvaez collected an armament suited to the project, and sailed from
San Lucar de Barrameda, June 17, 1527, in a fleet of five ships
carrying six hundred persons, with mechanics and laborers, as well as
secular priests, and five Franciscan friars, the superior being Father
Juan Xuarez. On the coast of Cuba his fleet was caught by a hurricane,
and one vessel perished. After refitting and acquiring other vessels,
Narvaez sailed from Cuba in March with four vessels and a brigantine,
taking four hundred men and eighty horses, his pilot being Diego
Miruelo, of a family which had acquired experience on that coast.
The destination was the Rio de Palmas; but his pilot proved
incompetent, and his fleet moved slowly along the southern coast of
Cuba, doubled Cape San Antonio, and was standing in for Havana when it
was driven by a storm on the Florida coast at a bay which he called
Bahia de la Cruz, and which the map of Sebastian Cabot identifies with
Apalache Bay.[830] Here Narvaez landed a part of his force (April 15),
sending his brigantine to look for a port or the way to Pánuco,—much
vaunted by the pilots,—and if unsuccessful to return to Cuba for a
vessel that had remained there. He was so misled by his pilots that
though he was near or on the Florida peninsula, he supposed himself not
far from the rivers Pánuco and Palmas. Under this impression he landed
most of his men, and directed his vessels, with about one hundred souls
remaining on them, to follow the coast while he marched inland. No
steps were taken to insure their meeting at the harbor proposed as a
rendezvous, or to enable the brigantine and the other ship to follow
the party on land. On the 19th of April Narvaez struck inland in a
northward or northeasterly direction; and having learned a little of
the country, moved on with three hundred men, forty of them mounted.
On the 15th of the following month they reached a river with a strong
current, which they crossed some distance from the sea. Cabeza de Vaca,
sent at his own urgent request to find a harbor, returned with no
encouraging tidings; and the expedition plodded on till, on the 25th
of June, they reached Apalache,—an Indian town of which they had heard
magnificent accounts. It proved to be a mere hamlet of forty wretched
cabins.
The sufferings of Narvaez’ men were great; the country was
poverty-stricken; there was no wealthy province to conquer, no fertile
lands for settlement. Aute (a harbor) was said to be nine days’ march
to the southward; and to this, after nearly a month spent at Apalache,
the disheartened Spaniards turned their course, following the Magdalena
River. On the 31st of July they reached the coast at a bay which
Narvaez styled Bahia de Cavallos; and seeing no signs of his vessels,
he set to work to build boats in which to escape from the country. The
horses were killed for food; and making forges, the Spaniards wrought
their stirrups, spurs, and other iron articles into saws, axes, and
nails. Ropes were made of the manes and tails of the horses and such
fibres as they could find; their shirts were used for sailcloth. By
the 20th of September five boats, each twenty-two cubits long, were
completed, and two days afterward the survivors embarked, forty-eight
or nine being crowded into each frail structure. Not one of the whole
number had any knowledge of navigation or of the coast.
Running between Santa Rosa Island and the mainland, they coasted along
for thirty days, landing where possible to obtain food or water, but
generally finding the natives fierce and hostile. On the 31st of
October they came to a broad river pouring into the Gulf such a volume
of water that it freshened the brine so that they were able to drink
it; but the current was too much for their clumsy craft. The boat
commanded by Narvaez was lost, and never heard of; that containing
Father Xuarez and the other friars was driven ashore bottom upward; the
three remaining boats were thrown on the coast of western Louisiana or
eastern Texas. The crews barely escaped with life, and found themselves
at the mercy of cruel and treacherous savages, who lived on or near
Malhado Island, and drew a precarious living from shellfish and minor
animals, prickly-pears and the like. They were consequently not as far
west as the bison range, which reached the coast certainly at Matagorda
Bay.[831] Here several of the wretched Spaniards fell victims to the
cruelty of the Indians or to disease and starvation, till Alvar Nuñez
Cabeza de Vaca, the treasurer of the expedition, escaping from six
years’ captivity among the Mariames, reached the Avavares, farther
inland, with two companions, Castillo and Dorantes, and a negro slave.
After spending eight months with them, he penetrated to the Arbadaos,
where the mesquite is first found, near the Rio Grande; and skirting
the San Saba Mountains, came to the bison plains and the hunter
nations; then keeping westward through tribes that lived in houses of
earth and knew the use of cotton and mined the turquoise, he finally
came upon some Spanish explorers on the River Petatlan; and thus on the
1st of April, 1536, with hearts full of joy and gratitude, the four men
entered the town of San Miguel in Sinaloa.
The vessels of Narvaez, not finding the alleged port of the pilots,
returned to the harbor where they had landed him, and were there
joined by the two vessels from Cuba; but though they remained nearly a
year, cruising along the coast of the Gulf, they never encountered the
slightest trace of the unfortunate Narvaez or his wretched followers.
They added nothing apparently to the knowledge of the coast already
acquired; for no report is extant, and no map alludes to any discovery
by them.
Thus ended an expedition undertaken with rashness and ignorance, and
memorable only from the almost marvellous adventures of Cabeza de Vaca
and his comrades, and the expeditions by land which were prompted by
his narrative.
* * * * *
The wealth of Mexico and Peru had inflamed the imagination of Spanish
adventurers; and though no tidings had been received of Narvaez, others
were ready to risk all they had, and life itself, in the hope of
finding some wealthy province in the heart of the northern continent.
The next to try his fortune was one who had played his part in the
conquest of Peru.
Hernando de Soto, the son of an esquire of Xerez de Badajoz, was
eager to rival Cortés and Pizarro. In 1537 he solicited a grant of
the province from Rio de las Palmas to Florida, as ceded to Narvaez,
as well as of the province discovered by Ayllon; and the King at
Valladolid, on the 20th of April, issued a concession to him,
appointing him to the government of the Island of Cuba, and requiring
him in person to conquer and occupy Florida within a year, erect
fortresses, and carry over at least five hundred men as settlers to
hold the country. The division of the gold, pearls, and other valuables
of the conquered caciques was regulated, and provision made for the
maintenance of the Christian religion and of an hospital in the
territory.
The air of mystery assumed by Cabeza de Vaca as to the countries that
he had seen, served to inflame the imagination of men in Spain; and
Soto found many ready to give their persons and their means to his
expedition. Nobles of Castile in rich slashed silk dresses mingled with
old warriors in well-tried coats of mail. He sailed from San Lucar in
April, 1538, amid the fanfaron of trumpets and the roar of cannon,
with six hundred as high-born and well-trained men as ever went forth
from Spain to win fame and fortune in the New World. They reached
Cuba safely, and Soto was received with all honor. More prudent than
Narvaez, Soto twice despatched Juan de Añasco, in a caravel with two
pinnaces, to seek a suitable harbor for the fleet, before trusting all
the vessels on the coast.[832]
Encouraged by the reports of this reconnoitring, Soto, leaving his
wife in Cuba, sailed from Havana in May, 1539, and made a bay on the
Florida coast ten leagues west of the Bay of Juan Ponce. To this he
gave the name of Espiritu Santo, because he reached it on the Feast of
Pentecost, which fell that year on the 25th of May.[833] On the 30th
he began to land his army near a town ruled by a chief named Uçita.
Soto’s whole force was composed of five hundred and seventy men, and
two hundred and twenty-three horses, in five ships, two caravels, and
two pinnaces. He took formal possession of the country in the name
of the King of Spain on the 3d of June, and prepared to explore and
subject the wealthy realms which he supposed to lie before him. Though
the chief at his landing-place was friendly, he found that all the
surrounding tribes were so hostile that they began to attack those who
welcomed him.
Ortiz, a Spaniard belonging to Narvaez’ expedition, who in his long
years of captivity had become as naked and as savage as were the
Indians, soon joined Soto.[834] He was joyfully received; though his
knowledge of the country was limited, his services were of vital
necessity, for the Indians secured by Añasco, and on whom Soto relied
as guides and interpreters, deserted at the first opportunity.
Soto had been trained in a bad school; he had no respect for the lives
or rights of the Indians. As Oviedo, a man of experience among the
_conquistadores_, says: “This governor was very fond of this sport of
killing Indians.”[835]
The plan of his march showed his disregard of the rights of the
natives. At each place he demanded of the cacique, or head chief, corn
for his men and horses, and Indians of both sexes to carry his baggage
and do the menial work in his camp. After obtaining these supplies,
he compelled the chief to accompany his army till he reached another
tribe whose chief he could treat in the same way; but though the first
chief was then released, few of the people of the tribe which he ruled,
and who had been carried off by Soto, were so fortunate as ever to be
allowed to return to their homes.
On the 15th of July Soto, sending back his largest ships to Cuba, moved
to the northeast to make his toilsome way amid the lakes and streams
and everglades of Florida. Before long his soldiers began to suffer
from hunger, and were glad to eat water-cresses, shoots of Indian
corn, and palmetto, in order to sustain life; for native villages were
few and scattered, and afforded little corn for the plunderers. The
natives were met only as foe-men, harassing his march. At Caliquen the
Indians, to rescue their chief, whom Soto was carrying to the next
town, made a furious onslaught on the Spaniards; but were driven to
the swamps, and nearly all killed or taken. Their dauntless spirit
was, however, unbroken. The survivors, though chained as slaves, rose
on their masters; and seizing any weapon within their reach, fought
desperately, one of them endeavoring to throttle Soto himself. Two
hundred survived this gallant attempt, only to be slaughtered by the
Indian allies of the Spanish commander. Soto fought his way westward
step by step so slowly that at the end of three months, Oct. 30, 1539,
he had only reached Agile,—a town in the province of Apalache. Añasco,
sent out from this point to explore, discovered the port where Narvaez
had embarked,—the remains of his forges and the bones of his horses
attesting the fact. Soto despatched him to Tampa Bay. Añasco with a
party marched the distance in ten days; and sending two caravels to
Cuba, brought to Soto in the remaining vessels the detachment left
at his landing-place. Before he reached his commander the Indians
had burned the town of Anaica Apalache, of which Soto had taken
possession.[836]
A good port, that of Pensacola, had been discovered to the westward;
but Soto, crediting an Indian tale of the rich realm of Yupaha in the
northeast, left his winter quarters March 3, 1540, and advanced in
that direction through tribes showing greater civilization. A month
later he reached the Altamaha, receiving from the more friendly natives
corn and game. This was not sufficient to save the Spaniards from much
suffering, and they treated the Indians with their wonted cruelty.[837]
At last Soto, after a march of four hundred and thirty leagues, much
of it through uninhabited land, reached the province ruled by the
chieftainess of Cofitachiqui. On the 1st of May she went forth to meet
the Spanish explorer in a palanquin or litter; and crossing the river
in a canopied canoe, she approached Soto, and after presenting him
the gifts of shawls and skins brought by her retinue, she took off
her necklace of pearls and placed it around the neck of Soto. Yet her
courtesy and generosity did not save her from soon being led about on
foot as a prisoner. The country around her chief town, which Jones
identifies with Silver Bluff, on the Savannah, below Augusta,[838]
tempted the followers of Soto, who wished to settle there, as from
it Cuba could be readily reached. But the commander would attempt no
settlement till he had discovered some rich kingdom that would rival
Peru; and chagrined at his failure, refused even to send tidings of his
operations to Cuba. At Silver Bluff he came upon traces of an earlier
Spanish march. A dirk and a rosary were brought to him, which were
supposed, on good grounds, to have come from the expedition of Ayllon.
Poring over the cosmography of Alonzo de Chaves, Soto and the officers
of his expedition concluded that a river, crossed on the 26th of May,
was the Espiritu Santo, or Mississippi. A seven days’ march, still in
the chieftainess’s realm, brought them to Chelaque, the country of
the Cherokees, poor in maize; then, over mountain ridges, a northerly
march brought them to Xualla, two hundred and fifty leagues from Silver
Bluff. At the close of May they were in Guaxule, where the chieftainess
regained her freedom. It was a town of three hundred houses, near the
mountains, in a well-watered and pleasant land, probably at the site of
Coosawattie Old Town. The chief gave Soto maize, and also three hundred
dogs for the maintenance of his men.
Marching onward, Soto next came to Canasagua, in all probability on a
river even now called the Connasauga, flowing through an attractive
land of mulberries, persimmons, and walnuts. Here they found stores
of bear oil and walnut oil and honey. Marching down this stream
and the Oostanaula, into which it flows, to Chiaha, on an island
opposite the mouth of the Etowa, in the district of the pearl-bearing
mussel-streams, Soto was received in amity; and the cacique had some
of the shellfish taken and pearls extracted in the presence of his
guest. The Spaniards encamped under the trees near the town, leaving
the inhabitants in quiet possession of their homes. Here, on the spot
apparently now occupied by Rome, they rested for a month. A detachment
sent to discover a reputed gold-producing province returned with no
tidings to encourage the adventurers; and on the 28th of June Soto,
with his men and steeds refreshed, resumed his march, having obtained
men to bear his baggage, though his demand of thirty women as slaves
was refused.[839]
Chisca, to which he sent two men to explore for gold, proved to be in
a rugged mountain land; and the buffalo robe which they brought back
was more curious than encouraging. Soto therefore left the territory of
the Cherokees, and took the direction of Coça, probably on the Coosa
river. The cacique of that place, warned doubtless by the rumors which
must have spread through all the land of the danger of thwarting the
fierce strangers, furnished supplies at several points on the route to
his town, and as Soto approached it, came out on a litter attired in a
fur robe and plumed headpiece to make a full surrender. The Spaniards
occupied the town and took possession of all the Indian stores of corn
and beans, the neighboring woods adding persimmons and grapes. This
town was one hundred and ninety leagues west of Xualla, and lay on
the east bank of the Coosa, between the mouths of the Talladega and
Tallasehatchee, as Pickett, the historian of Alabama, determines. Soto
held the chief of Coça virtually as a prisoner; but when he demanded
porters to bear the baggage of his men, most of the Indians fled. The
Spanish commander then seized every Indian he could find, and put him
in irons.
After remaining at Coça for twenty-five days, Soto marched to
Ullibahali, a strongly palisaded town, situated, as we may conjecture,
on Hatchet Creek. This place submitted, giving men as porters and
women as slaves. Leaving this town on the 2d of September, he marched
to Tallise, in a land teeming with corn, whose people proved equally
docile.[840] This submission was perhaps only to gain time, and draw
the invaders into a disadvantageous position.
Actahachi, the gigantic chief of Tastaluza, sixty leagues south of
Coça, which was Soto’s next station, received him with a pomp such
as the Spaniards had not yet witnessed. The cacique was seated on
cushions on a raised platform, with his chiefs in a circle around
him; an umbrella of buckskin, stained red and white, was held over
him. The curveting steeds and the armor of the Spaniards raised no
look of curiosity on his stern countenance, and he calmly awaited
Soto’s approach. Not till he found himself detained as a prisoner
would he promise to furnish the Spaniards with porters and supplies
of provisions at Mauila[841] to enable Soto to continue his march. He
then sent orders to his vassal, the chief of Mauila, to have them in
readiness.
As the Spaniards, accompanied by Actahachi, descended the Alabama,
passing by the strong town of Piache, the cacique of Mauila came to
meet them with friendly greetings, attended by a number of his subjects
playing upon their native musical instruments, and proffering fur robes
and service; but the demeanor of the people was so haughty that Luis de
Moscoso urged Soto not to enter the town. The _adelantado_ persisted;
and riding in with seven or eight of his guard and four horsemen, sat
down with the cacique and the chief of Tastaluza, whom, according to
custom, he had brought to this place. The latter asked leave to return
to his own town; when Soto refused, he rose, pretending a wish to
confer with some chiefs, and entered a house where some armed Indians
were concealed. He refused to come out when summoned; and a chief who
was ordered to carry a message to the cacique, but refused, was cut
down by Gallego with a sword. Then the Indians, pouring out from the
houses, sent volleys of arrows at Soto and his party. Soto ran toward
his men, but fell two or three times; and though he reached his main
force, five of his men were killed, and he himself, as well as all
the rest, was severely wounded. The chained Indian porters, who bore
the baggage and treasures of Soto’s force, had set down their loads
just outside the palisade. When the party of Soto had been driven
out, the men of Mauila sent all these into the town, took off their
fetters, and gave them weapons. Some of the military equipments of the
Spaniards fell into the hands of the Indians, and several of Soto’s
followers, who had like him entered the town, among them a friar and an
ecclesiastic, remained as prisoners.
The Indians, sending off their caciques, and apparently their women,
prepared to defend the town; but Soto, arranging his military array
into four detachments, surrounded it, and made an assault on the gates,
where the natives gathered to withstand them. By feigning flight Soto
drew them out; and by a sudden charge routed them, and gaining an
entrance for his men, set fire to the houses. This was not effected
without loss, as the Spaniards were several times repulsed by the
Indians. When they at last fought their way into the town, the Indians
endeavored to escape. Finding that impossible, as the gates were held,
the men of Mauila fought desperately, and died by the sword, or plunged
into the blazing houses to perish there.
The battle of Mauila was one of the bloodiest ever fought on our
soil between white and red men in the earlier days. The _Adelantado_
had twenty of his men killed, and one hundred and fifty wounded; of
his horses twelve were killed and seventy wounded. The Indian loss
was estimated by the Portuguese chronicler of the expedition at
twenty-five hundred, and by Rangel at three thousand. At nightfall
Biedma tells us that only three Indians remained alive, two of whom
were killed fighting; the last hung himself from a tree in the palisade
with his bowstring.[842] The Gentleman of Elvas states Soto’s whole
loss up to his leaving Mauila to have been one hundred and two by
disease, accident, and Indian fighting. Divine worship had been
apparently offered in the camp regularly up to this time; but in the
flames of Mauila perished all the chalices and vestments of the clergy,
as well as the bread-irons and their store of wheat-flour and wine, so
that Mass ceased from this time.[843]
Soto here ascertained that Francisco Maldonado was with vessels at the
port of Ichuse (or Ochuse) only six days’ march from him, awaiting his
orders. He was too proud to return to Cuba with his force reduced in
numbers, without their baggage, or any trophy from the lands he had
visited. He would not even send any tidings to Cuba, but concealed
from his men the knowledge which had been brought to him by Ortiz, the
rescued follower of Narvaez.
Stubborn in his pride, Soto, on the 14th of November, marched
northward; and traversing the land of Pafallaya (now Clarke, Marengo,
and Greene counties), passed the town of Taliepatua and reached
Cabusto, identified by Pickett with the site of the modern town of
Erie, on the Black Warrior. Here a series of battles with the natives
occurred; but Soto fought his way through hostile tribes to the
little town of Chicaça, with its two hundred houses clustered on a
hill, probably on the western bank of the Yazoo, which he reached in
a snow-storm on the 17th of December. The cacique Miculasa received
Soto graciously, and the Spanish commander won him by sending part of
his force to attack Sacchuma, a hostile town. Having thus propitiated
this powerful chief, Soto remained here till March; when, being ready
to advance on his expedition in search of some wealthy province, he
demanded porters of the cacique. The wily chief amused the invader with
promises for several days, and then suddenly attacked the town from
four sides, at a very early hour in the morning, dashing into the place
and setting fire to the houses. The Spaniards, taken by surprise, were
assailed as they came out to put on their armor and mount their horses.
Soto and one other alone succeeded in getting into the saddle; but
Soto himself, after killing one Indian with his spear, was thrown, his
girths giving way.
The Indians drew off with the loss of this one man, having killed
eleven Spaniards, many of their horses, and having greatly reduced
their herd of swine. In the conflagration of the town, Soto’s force
lost most of their remaining clothing, with many of their weapons and
saddles. They at once set to work to supply the loss. The woods gave
ash to make saddles and lances; forges were set up to temper the swords
and make such arms as they could; while the tall grass was woven into
mats to serve as blankets or cloaks.
They needed their arms indeed; for on the 15th of March the enemy, in
three divisions, advanced to attack the camp. Soto met them with as
many squadrons, and routed them with loss.
When Soto at last took up his march on the 25th of April, the sturdy
Alibamo, or Alimamu, or Limamu, barred his way with a palisade manned
by the painted warriors of the tribe. Soto carried it at the cost of
the lives of seven or eight of his men, and twenty-five or six wounded;
only to find that the Indians had made the palisade not to protect any
stores, but simply to cope with the invaders.[844]
At Quizquiz, or Quizqui, near the banks of the Mississippi, Soto
surprised the place and captured all the women; but released them to
obtain canoes to cross the river. As the Indians failed to keep their
promise, Soto encamped in a plain and spent nearly a month building
four large boats, each capable of carrying sixty or seventy men and
five or six horses. The opposite shore was held by hostile Indians; and
bands of finely formed warriors constantly came down in canoes, as if
ready to engage them, but always drawing off.
The Spaniards finally crossed the river at the lowest Chickasaw Bluff,
all wondering at the mighty turbid stream, with its fish, strange
to their eyes, and the trees, uprooted on the banks far above, that
came floating down.[845] Soto marched northward to Little Prairie in
quest of Pacaha and Chisca, provinces reported to abound in gold.
After planting a cross on St. John’s Day[846] at Casqui, where the
bisons’ heads above the entrances to the huts reminded them of Spain,
he entered Pacaha June 29, as Oviedo says. These towns were the best
they had seen since they left Cofitachiqui. Pacaha furnished them with
a booty which they prized highly,—a fine store of skins of animals,
and native blankets woven probably of bark. These enabled the men to
make clothing, of which many had long been in sore want. The people
gradually returned, and the cacique received Soto in friendly guise,
giving him his two sisters as wives.
While the army rested here nearly a month, expeditions were sent in
various directions. One, marching eight days to the northwest through
a land of swamps and ponds, reached the prairies, the land of Caluça,
where Indians lived in portable houses of mats, with frames so light
that a man could easily carry them.[847]
Despairing of finding his long-sought El Dorado in that direction, Soto
marched south and then southwest, in all a hundred and ten leagues, to
Quiguate, a town on a branch of the Mississippi. It was the largest
they had yet seen. The Indians abandoned it; but one half the houses
were sufficient to shelter the whole of Soto’s force.
On the first of September the expedition reached Coligua,—a populous
town in a valley among the mountains, near which vast herds of
bison roamed. Then crossing the river again,[848] Soto’s jaded and
decreasing force marched onward. Cayas, with its salt river and fertile
maize-lands, was reached; and then the Spaniards came to Tulla, where
the Indians attacked them, fighting from their housetops to the last.
The cacique at last yielded, and came weeping with great sobs to make
his submission.
Marching southeast, Soto reached Quipana; and crossing the mountains
eastward, wintered in the province of Viranque, or Autiamque, or
Utianque, on a branch of the Mississippi, apparently the Washita.[849]
The sufferings of the Spaniards during a long and severe winter were
terrible, and Ortiz, their interpreter, succumbed to his hardships and
died. Even the proud spirit of Soto yielded to his disappointments and
toil. Two hundred and fifty of his splendid force had left their bones
to whiten along the path which he had followed. He determined at last
to push to the shores of the Gulf, and there build two brigantines, in
order to send to Cuba and to New Spain for aid.
[Illustration: SOTO.
Fac-simile of an engraving in Herrera (1728), iv. 21.]
Passing through Ayays and the well-peopled land of Nilco, Soto went
with the cacique of Guachoyanque to his well-palisaded town on the
banks of the Mississippi, at the mouth of the Red River, arriving there
on Sunday, April 17, 1542. Here he fell ill of the fever; difficulties
beset him on every side, and he sank under the strain. Appointing Luis
de Moscoço as his successor in command, he died on the 21st of May. The
_Adelantado_ of Cuba and Florida, who had hoped to gather the wealth
of nations, left as his property five Indian slaves, three horses, and
a herd of swine. His body, kept for some days in a house, was interred
in the town; but as fears were entertained that the Indians might dig
up the corpse, it was taken, wrapped in blankets loaded with sand, and
sunk in the Mississippi.[850]
[Illustration: AUTOGRAPH OF SOTO.]
Muscoço’s first plan was to march westward to Mexico. But after
advancing to the province of Xacatin, the survivors of the expedition
lost all hope; and returning to the Mississippi, wintered on its banks.
There building two large boats, they embarked in them and in canoes.
Hostile Indians pursued them, and twelve men were drowned, their canoes
being run down by the enemy’s _periaguas_. The survivors reached the
Gulf and coasted along to Pánuco.[851]
The expedition of Soto added very little to the knowledge of the
continent, as no steps were taken to note the topography of the country
or the language of the various tribes. Diego Maldonado and Gomez Arias,
seeking Soto, explored the coast from the vicinity of the Mississippi
nearly to Newfoundland; but their reports are unknown.
Notwithstanding the disastrous result of Soto’s expedition, and the
conclusive proof it afforded that the country bordering on the Gulf of
Mexico contained no rich kingdom and afforded little inducement for
settlements, other commanders were ready to undertake the conquest of
Florida. Among these was Don Antonio de Mendoza, the viceroy of New
Spain, who sought, by offers of rank and honors, to enlist some of
the survivors of Soto’s march in a new campaign. In a more mercantile
spirit, Julian de Samano and Pedro de Ahumada applied to the Spanish
monarch for a patent, promising to make a good use of the privileges
granted them, and to treat the Indians well. They hoped to buy furs and
pearls, and carry on a trade in them till mines of gold and silver were
found. The Court, however, refused to permit the grant.[852]
[Illustration: ANTONIO DE MENDOZA, _Viceroy of New Spain_.]
Yet as a matter of policy it became necessary for Spain to occupy
Florida. This the Court felt; and when Cartier was preparing for his
voyage to the northern part of the continent,[853] Spanish spies
followed his movements and reported all to their Government. In Spain
it was decided that Cartier’s occupation of the frozen land, for
which he was equipping his vessels, could not in any way militate
against the interests of the Catholic monarch; but it was decided that
any settlement attempted in Florida must on some pretext be crushed
out.[854] Florida from its position afforded a basis for assailing the
fleets which bore from Vera Cruz the treasures of the Indies; and the
hurricanes of the tropics had already strewn the Florida coast with the
fragments of Spanish wrecks. In 1545 a vessel laden with silver and
precious commodities perished on that coast, and two hundred persons
reached land, only to fall by the hands of the Indians.[855]
* * * * *
The next Spanish attempt to occupy Florida was not unmixed with
romance; and its tragic close invests it with peculiar interest. The
Dominicans, led by Father Antonio de Montesinos and Las Casas,—who had
by this time become Bishop of Chiapa,—were active in condemning the
cruelties of their countrymen to the natives of the New World; and the
atrocities perpetrated by Soto in his disastrous march gave new themes
for their indignant denunciations.[856]
One Dominican went further. Father Luis Cancer de Barbastro, when
the Indians of a province had so steadily defied the Spaniards and
prevented their entrance that it was styled “Tierra de Guerra,”
succeeded by mild and gentle means in winning the whole Indian
population, so that the province obtained the name of “Vera Paz,” or
True Peace. In 1546 this energetic man conceived the idea of attempting
the peaceful conquest of Florida. Father Gregory de Beteta and other
influential members of his Order seconded his views. The next year
he went to Spain and laid his project before the Court, where it was
favorably received. He returned to Mexico with a royal order that all
Floridians held in slavery, carried thither by the survivors of Soto’s
expedition, should be confided to Father Cancer to be taken back to
their own land. The order proved ineffectual. Father Cancer then sailed
from Vera Cruz in 1549 in the “Santa Maria del Enzina,” without arms
or soldiers, taking Father Beteta, Father Diego de Tolosa, Father
John Garcia, and others to conduct the mission. At Havana he obtained
Magdalen, a woman who had been brought from Florida, and who had become
a Christian. The vessel then steered for Florida, and reaching the
coast, at about 28°, on the eve of Ascension Day, ran northward, but
soon sailed back. The missionaries and their interpreter landed, and
found some of the Indians fishing, who proved friendly. Father Diego, a
mission coadjutor, and a sailor, resolved to remain with the natives,
and went off to their cabins. Cancer and his companions awaited their
return; but they never appeared again. For some days the Spaniards on
the ship endeavored to enter into friendly relations with the Indians,
and on Corpus Christi Fathers Cancer and Garcia landed and said Mass
on shore. At last a Spaniard named John Muñoz, who had been a prisoner
among the Indians, managed to reach the ship; and from him they
learned that the missionary and his companions had been killed by the
treacherous natives almost immediately after reaching their cabins.
He had not witnessed their murder, but declared that he had seen the
missionary’s scalp. Magdalen, however, came to the shore and assured
the missionaries that their comrade was alive and well.
It had thus become a serious matter what course to pursue. The vessel
was too heavy to enter the shallow bays, the provisions were nearly
exhausted, water could not be had, and the ship’s people were clamoring
to return to Mexico. The missionaries, all except Father Cancer,
desired to abandon the projected settlement, but he still believed that
by presents and kindness to the Indians he could safely remain. His
companions in vain endeavored to dissuade him. On Tuesday, June 25,
he was pulled in a boat near the shore. He leaped into the water and
waded towards the land. Though urged to return, he persevered. Kneeling
for a few minutes on the beach, he advanced till he met the Indians.
The sailors in the boat saw one Indian pull off his hat, and another
strike him down with a club. One cry escaped his lips. A crowd of
Indians streamed down to the shore and with arrows drove off the boat.
Lingering for awhile, the vessel sailed back to Vera Cruz, after five
lives had thus rashly been sacrificed.[857]
On the arrival of the tidings of this tragic close of Cancer’s mission
a congress was convened by Maximilian, King of Bohemia, then regent
in Spain; and the advocates of the peace policy in regard to the
Indians lost much of the influence which they had obtained in the royal
councils.[858]
The wreck of the fleet, with rich cargoes of silver, gold, and other
precious commodities, on the northern shore of the Gulf of Mexico in
1553, when several hundred persons perished, and the sufferings of the
surviving passengers, among whom were several Dominicans, in their
attempt to reach the settlements; and the wreck of Farfan’s fleet on
the Atlantic coast near Santa Elena in December, 1554,—showed the
necessity of having posts on that dangerous coast of Florida, in order
to save life and treasure.[859]
The Council of the Indies advised Philip II. to confide the conquest
and settlement of Florida to Don Luis de Velasco, viceroy of New
Spain, who was anxious to undertake the task. The Catholic monarch had
previously rejected the projects of Zurita and Samano; but the high
character of Velasco induced him to confide the task to the viceroy
of Mexico. The step was a gain for the humanitarian party; and the
King, on giving his approval, directed that Dominican friars should be
selected to accompany the colonists, in order to minister to them and
convert the Indians. Don Luis de Velasco had directed the government in
Mexico since November, 1550, with remarkable prudence and ability. The
natives found in him such an earnest, capable, and unwavering protector
that he is styled in history the Father of the Indians.
The plans adopted by this excellent governor for the occupation
of Florida were in full harmony with the Dominican views. In the
treatment of the Indians he anticipated the just and equitable methods
which give Calvert, Williams, and Penn so enviable a place in American
annals.[860]
The occupation was not to be one of conquest, and all intercourse with
the Indians was to be on the basis of natural equity. His first step
was prompted by his characteristic prudence.[861] In September, 1558,
he despatched Guido de Labazares, with three vessels and a sufficient
force, to explore the whole Florida coast, and select the best port he
found for the projected settlement. Labazares, on his return after an
investigation of several months, reported in favor of Pensacola Bay,
which he named Felipina; and he describes its entrance between a long
island and a point of land. The country was well wooded, game and fish
abounded, and the Indian fields showed that Indian corn and vegetables
could be raised successfully.[862] On the return of Labazares in
December, preparations were made for the expedition, which was placed
under the command of Don Tristan de Luna y Arellano. The force
consisted of fifteen hundred soldiers and settlers, under six captains
of cavalry and six of infantry, some of whom had been at Coça, and were
consequently well acquainted with the country where it was intended
to form the settlement. The Dominicans selected were Fathers Pedro de
Feria, as vicar-provincial of Florida, Dominic of the Annunciation,
Dominic de Salazar, John Maçuelas, Dominic of Saint Dominic, and a lay
brother. The object being to settle, provisions for a whole year were
prepared, and ammunition to meet all their wants.
The colonists, thus well fitted for their undertaking, sailed from
Vera Cruz on the 11th of June, 1559; and by the first of the following
month were off the bay in Florida to which Miruelo had given his name.
Although Labazares had recommended Pensacola Bay, Tristan de Luna
seems to have been induced by his pilots to give the preference to the
Bay of Ichuse; and he sailed west in search of it, but passed it, and
entered Pensacola Bay. Finding that he had gone too far, Luna sailed
back ten leagues east to Ichuse, which must have been Santa Rosa Bay.
Here he anchored his fleet, and despatched the factor Luis Daza, with
a galleon, to Vera Cruz to announce his safe arrival. He fitted two
other vessels to proceed to Spain, awaiting the return of two exploring
parties; he then prepared to land his colonists and stores.[863]
Meanwhile he sent a detachment of one hundred men under captains Alvaro
Nyeto and Gonzalo Sanchez, accompanied by one of the missionaries, to
explore the country and ascertain the disposition of the Indians. The
exploring parties returned after three weeks, having found only one
hamlet, in the midst of an uninhabited country.[864] Before Luna had
unloaded his vessels, they were struck, during the night of September
19,[865] by a terrible hurricane, which lasted twenty-four hours,
destroying five ships, a galleon and a bark, and carrying one caravel
and its cargo into a grove some distance on land. Many of the people
perished, and most of the stores intended for the maintenance of the
colony were ruined or lost.
The river, entering the Bay of Ichuse, proved to be very difficult
of navigation, and it watered a sparsely-peopled country. Another
detachment,[866] sent apparently to the northwest, after a forty days’
march through uncultivated country, reached a large river, apparently
the Escambia, and followed its banks to Nanipacna, a deserted town of
eighty houses. Explorations in various directions found no other signs
of Indian occupation. The natives at last returned and became friendly.
Finding his original site unfavorable, Tristan de Luna, after
exhausting the relief-supplies sent him, and being himself prostrated
by a fever in which he became delirious, left Juan de Jaramillo at
the port with fifty men and negro slaves, and proceeded[867] with the
rest of his company, nearly a thousand souls, to Nanipacna, some by
land, and some ascending the river in their lighter craft. To this
town he gave the name of Santa Cruz. The stores of Indian corn, beans,
and other vegetables left by the Indians were soon consumed by the
Spaniards, who were forced to live on acorns or any herbs they could
gather.
The Viceroy, on hearing of their sufferings, sent two vessels to
their relief in November, promising more ample aid in the spring. The
provisions they obtained saved them from starvation during the winter,
but in the spring their condition became as desperate as ever. No
attempt seems to have been made to cultivate the Indian fields, or to
raise anything for their own support.[868]
In hope of obtaining provisions from Coça, Jaramillo sent his
sergeant-major with six captains and two hundred soldiers, accompanied
by Father Dominic de Salazar and Dominic of the Annunciation, to that
province. On the march the men were forced to eat straps, harnesses,
and the leather coverings of their shields; some died of starvation,
while others were poisoned by herbs which they ate. A chestnut wood
proved a godsend, and a fifty days’ march brought them to Olibahali
(Hatchet Creek), where the friendly natives ministered to their
wants.[869]
About the beginning of July they reached Coça, on the Coosa River,
then a town of thirty houses, near which were seven other towns of the
same tribe. Entering into friendly intercourse with these Indians, the
Spaniards obtained food for themselves and their jaded horses. After
resting here for three months, the Spaniards, to gain the good-will of
the Coosas, agreed to aid them in a campaign against the Napochies,—a
nation near the Ochechiton,[870] the Espiritu Santo, or Mississippi.
These were in all probability the Natchez. The Coosas and their Spanish
allies defeated this tribe, and compelled them to pay tribute, as of
old, to the Coosas. Their town, saved with difficulty from the flames,
gave the Spaniards a supply of corn. On their return to Coça, the
sergeant-major sent to report to Tristan de Luna; but his messengers
found no Spaniard at Nanipacna, save one hanging from a tree. Tristan
de Luna, supposing his men lost, had gone down to Ochuse Bay, leaving
directions on a tree, and a buried letter.[871] Father Feria and
some others had sailed for Havana, and all were eager to leave the
country.[872] Tristan de Luna was reluctant to abandon the projected
settlement, and wished to proceed to Coça with all the survivors of
his force. His sickness had left him so capricious and severe, that he
seemed actually insane. The supplies promised in the spring had not
arrived in September, though four ships left Vera Cruz toward the end
of June. Parties sent out by land and water found the fields on the
Escambia and Mobile[873] forsaken by the Indians, who had laid waste
their towns and removed their provisions. In this desperate state
George Ceron, the _maestro de campo_, opposed the Governor’s plan,[874]
and a large part of the force rallied around him. When Tristan de Luna
issued a proclamation ordering the march, there was an open mutiny,
and the Governor condemned the whole of the insurgents to death. Of
course he could not attempt to execute so many, but he did hang one who
deserted. The mutineers secretly sent word to Coça, and in November the
party from that province with the two missionaries arrived at Pensacola
Bay.[875] Don Tristan’s detachment was also recalled from the original
landing, and the whole force united. The dissensions continued till
the missionaries, amid the solemnities of Holy Week, by appealing
to the religious feelings of the commander and Ceron, effected a
reconciliation.[876]