vast army of the Indians. Several of the troops were wounded, others
were panic-struck, and retreated to the shore. Relief was sent from
the ships, and the Indians were finally put to flight. Landing
the remainder of his forces, De Soto found the villages deserted,
and learned, from some prisoners he took, that the hostility he
had encountered was occasioned by outrages committed by Narvaez
on a cacique of the village, called Hivrihigua. Having gained his
friendship, and formed a treaty with him, the treacherous Spaniard, in
a fit of passion, ordered the cacique’s nose to be cut off, and his
mother to be torn in pieces by dogs. De Soto endeavoured, by sending
presents to the mutilated chief, to gain his favor; but he indignantly
replied to the messages, “I want none of their speeches and promises;
bring me their heads, and I will joyfully receive them.”
Juan Ortiz, a follower of Narvaez, who had been captured by Hivrihigua,
was obtained as an interpreter. This man was one of four on whom the
cacique had determined to wreak his vengeance, on account of the
treatment he had received. The others were stripped naked, led out
into the public square, and set at liberty, to be shot to death by
arrows. To prolong their torture, only one Indian was allowed to shoot
at a time, and in this manner they were all killed, with the exception
of Juan Ortiz. This was a youth hardly eighteen years old, and his
appearance, as he was led forth to execution, so touched the hearts of
the wife and daughters of the cacique, that, at their intercession, he
was spared. He was, however, reduced to a state of slavery, made to
bear burdens, and be the object of barbarous amusements. At one time,
he was bound down on a wooden frame, over a bed of live coals, to be
roasted alive. Again his pitying protectors came to his relief, and, by
their entreaties, he was once more spared.
After various adventures, he was committed to a neighbouring cacique,
by the daughter of Hivrihigua, and remained there till sent for by De
Soto to act as an interpreter. The cacique under whose protection
he had been, named Mucozo, also came to the Spanish camp with his
warriors, and, in reply to the assurances of De Soto that he should
be kindly treated, he magnanimously said, “What I have done to Ortiz
is but little; he came commended to me, and threw himself on my
protection. There is a law of our tribe which forbids our betraying a
fugitive who asks of us an asylum. But his own virtue and dauntless
courage entitled him to all the respect which was shown him. That I
have pleased your people, I rejoice exceedingly, and by devoting myself
henceforth to their service, I hope to merit their esteem.”
The mother of Mucozo, distressed with fears for her son, also came, and
begged De Soto to deliver him up. “He is young,” said she; “only give
him his liberty, and take me, who am a poor old woman, and do with me
as you please. I will bear any punishment for both.” Though treated
with kindness, she still continued anxious and suspicious. She would
eat nothing at the governor’s table till Ortiz had first tasted it;
and when asked how it happened that she, who so feared death, should
offer to die for her son, she replied, “I love life as others do, but I
would willingly lose it to save a son who is far dearer to me than life
itself.” Though assured by her son that he was entirely at liberty, she
returned home in sorrow.
By means of kindness to some of his captives, whom he allowed to go
home loaded with presents, De Soto tried to soften the stern cacique,
Hivrihigua. His reply was, “The memory of my injuries forbids my
sending a kind answer, and a harsh one your courtesy will not allow
me to return.” Learning that Hivrihigua was concealed in a forest not
far from the camp, one of De Soto’s followers undertook to capture him.
He had not gone far, before he met a messenger from the cacique, who
begged him, in the name of his master, not to proceed any further, as
the old cacique was secure in his fortress, and he could not reach him,
while he would be exposed to great danger in the morasses and forests
which lay in his way. The event proved according to the warning; for,
notwithstanding repeated messages to the same effect, the foolhardy
cavalier persisted, and was finally compelled to return home without
having accomplished his purpose.
As the Spaniards advanced into the interior of the country, they found
warlike Indians hanging about their path, and harassing them at every
step. The savages assailed their enemy with great fury, and fought
bravely; but they were no match for horsemen so armed at all points
that the arrows could make no impression on them. On the approach of De
Soto, the caciques fled into the woods, and prepared for resistance.
One of these, named Acuera, being invited to a peaceable interview,
replied, “Others of your accursed race have, in years past, poisoned
our peaceful shores. They have taught me what you are. What is your
employment? To wander about, like vagabonds, from land to land; to
rob the poor; to betray the confiding; to murder, in cold blood, the
defenceless. No; with such a people I want no peace, no friendship.
War, never-ending, exterminating war, is all that I ask. You boast
yourselves valiant, and so you may be; but my faithful warriors are not
less brave, and this, too, you shall one day know; for I have sworn
to maintain an unsparing hostility, while one white man remains in my
borders. Not openly in the battle,--though even thus we fear not to
meet you,--but by stratagem, and ambush, and midnight surprisal, shall
you be met.”
To the demand of obedience to the emperor of Spain, the Indian replied,
“I am king in my own land, and will never become the vassal of a mortal
like myself. Vile and pusillanimous is he who will submit to the yoke
of another, when he may be free. As for me and my people, we choose
death, yes, a hundred deaths, before the loss of our liberty, and the
subjugation of our country.”
De Soto sent out persons in every quarter to explore the country, but
the Indians lurked in ambush, and cut off every Spaniard who strayed
from the camp; and though De Soto caused the bodies to be buried, yet
the Indians always returned in the night, dug them up, cut them in
pieces, and hung them on the trees. Fourteen Europeans thus perished,
and many more were wounded. In this manner the natives fulfilled their
threats. “Keep on, robbers and traitors,” said they; “in Acuera and
Apalachee, we will treat you as you deserve. Every captive will we
quarter and hang up on the highest trees along the road.”
As De Soto advanced still further, he was attacked by some of the
subjects of the cacique, Ocali. The adventures of the Spaniards with
Vitachuco were remarkable, but we cannot detail them here.[4] In the
fierce battles fought, with De Soto, the Indian warriors showed great
bravery, but they were finally defeated, and nearly exterminated. The
same determined spirit of resistance was manifested by almost every
tribe of the Florida Indians.
After many battles and skirmishes, the Spaniards approached a village
called Anhayea. The Indians had fled, but it was found to contain two
hundred and fifty large and commodious houses; besides which, there
were said to be many others in the province, consisting of from fifty
to a hundred houses. There were, also, many dwellings scattered about
the country. De Soto, to relieve himself from the harassing attacks of
the Indians in this quarter, formed a plan to get possession of the
cacique, Capafi. This person was so fat and unwieldy, that he could
neither walk nor stand. When he went about his dwelling, he was obliged
to move on his hands and knees, and in going from place to place was
borne in a litter on the shoulders of his subjects. Learning that he
was in the midst of a dense and vast forest, about eight leagues off,
fortified in the strongest manner known to this people, and garrisoned
by a band of his bravest and choicest warriors, so that he felt himself
to be impregnable, De Soto determined to attack him.
The Spaniards met with a strong resistance at the entrance of the
defile which led to the open place where the cacique had taken up
his abode. It was so narrow that but two could go in abreast. The
palisades were, however, gained in succession, and the place of the
cacique’s refuge finally reached. Here a desperate conflict took place.
Perceiving the danger of their chief, the Indians threw themselves on
the swords and spears of the Spaniards. Many were the valiant feats
performed on both sides; but as the Indians were without defensive
armor, most of them were at last cut down, and the cacique, knowing
that further resistance was vain, called on the survivors to surrender.
They therefore threw themselves before the Spanish leader, and offered
their own lives, but besought him to spare that of their cacique.
De Soto assured them of pardon, and that he would henceforth consider
them as his friends. Capafi, unable to walk, was taken up on the
arms of his attendants to kiss De Soto’s hands, who treated him with
urbanity and kindness. The wily chief, however, on the return to
the village of Anhayea, found means to escape. This was effected in
the following manner. The Indians, notwithstanding the captivity of
their chief, did not cease their efforts to annoy the Spaniards. De
Soto reproached the cacique with ingratitude, and threatened a war of
extermination. The cacique expressed his grief, and said, that as the
chief assailants were concealed in a thick forest, five or six leagues
off, he would go there under guard of some Spaniards, and persuade them
to submit.
De Soto sent him, attended by a company of horse and foot, who were
ordered to watch him closely, and not allow him to escape. On reaching
the forest, at sunset, the cacique sent some Indians to the warriors
who were there concealed, with orders to assemble before him the next
morning. The Spaniards, satisfied that the orders of the cacique
would be obeyed, betook themselves to rest, having stationed their
sentinels, and placed a guard over the chief; but, owing to the
fatigue of their long march, they all fell asleep. Perceiving this, the
cacique watched his opportunity, crawled on his hands and knees through
the camp, and soon fell in with a party of his warriors, who took him
on their shoulders and carried him away. The Spaniards, mortified with
the result of their expedition, returned, and on their march were
taunted by the Indians for the failure of their schemes. They pretended
to De Soto that they had lost their captive by some art of necromancy,
and he, though aware of the truth, apparently yielded to the story,
saying, that the Indians were such wonderful necromancers that they
might have performed still greater feats of skill.
In an attempt made by a garrison left behind at Hivrihigua to reach De
Soto, a terrible battle ensued in a morass, which came near proving
fatal to the whole party. Nothing but the fall of the Indian chief who
led the onset saved them from destruction. The battle took place in
the water, and the Indians rushed with wild yells from behind bushes,
brakes, and the trunks of trees, discharging showers of arrows at
their enemy. The horses, being wounded, became furious, and threw off
the foot-soldiers, who were mounted behind the horsemen. They were
thus exposed to the arrows of the enemy, who perceived their fall, and
rushed forward to despatch them.
In front of the assailants was an Indian entirely naked, bold and
fearless, with a large plume of feathers on his head. He sought to gain
the shelter of a great tree which lay between him and the Spaniards.
One of these, bearing a crossbow, sent an arrow with so true an aim,
that it pierced him through the breast. He staggered forward a few
paces, crying out to his followers, “These traitors have slain me!”
His comrades then rushed to his aid, received him in their arms, and,
passing him on from one to another, carried him away.
In another part of the morass, the battle was not less bloody, and
the Spaniards were losing ground, when, at the most critical moment,
the news came to the Indians that their chief was mortally wounded;
this checked their ardor, and they began to retreat. The Spaniards
halted for the night, and it is said that scarcely a man among them had
escaped without a wound.
On resuming their march, every inch of ground was disputed by the
enemy, till the adventurers came to an open plain, where the cavalry
could act with effect. The Indians then departed, but, when night came,
they hovered round the camp with dreadful yells and howlings, taunting
their foes, and launching against them clouds of arrows, thus forcing
them to keep in perpetual motion. Frequently, the Spaniards were
obliged to remove barriers and palisades which obstructed their march,
and to cut their way through the tangled thicket; while the Indians,
from their ambush, cried out, “Where are you going, robbers? We have
already killed your chief and all his warriors!”
The Spaniards having spent the winter of 1539 in Apalachee, where they
were perpetually annoyed by the bold and warlike savages, resumed their
march on the arrival of spring. As they advanced, they came to the
deserted village of Achese, where they made prisoners of two warriors,
who, being brought before De Soto, demanded, in a bold and fearless
manner, “What seek you in our land, peace or war?” De Soto replied,
“We seek not war with any one; but our wish is to cultivate peace and
friendship. We are in search of a distant province, and all we ask
is food by the road.” The warriors promised to supply all necessary
food, and an embassy being sent to the cacique of Cofa, he returned
a deputation of two thousand Indians, with a present of rabbits,
partridges, and maize, and a great number of dogs. The cacique also
gave the Spaniards a generous welcome, and set apart his own dwelling
for De Soto, providing, likewise, quarters for the army. The province
is said to have been very extensive, fertile, and populous. The natives
were peaceful, domestic, and affable, treating the strangers with great
kindness.
De Soto, who had brought with him a piece of ordnance, showed its power
by prostrating, with ten shots, a large oak-tree. The cacique and his
people manifested great amazement as well as pleasure; and when the
Spaniards departed, the chief sent messengers to his brother Cofaqui,
the cacique of an adjoining province, still more opulent and powerful
than his own, begging him to receive the strangers kindly. He likewise,
in company with his warriors, escorted the army one day’s march, and,
having bidden them farewell, charged some of his people to go on
further, and do all in their power to serve them.
The cacique Cofaqui, on receiving his brother’s message, sent four
chiefs, with a train of Indians, to welcome De Soto and his band. As
they drew near, he went out, richly decorated, to receive them; taking
with him a company of warriors who carried their bows and arrows in
their hands, and wore tall plumes on their heads, with rich mantles
of martin-skin, finely dressed, over their shoulders. Four thousand
warriors were appointed to escort the strangers, with an equal number
of retainers to carry supplies and clothing. These Indians depended on
the chase for animal food; but their principal articles of provision
were maize, dried plums, grapes, walnuts, and acorns.
A short time before the Spaniards departed, the cacique called his
chief warrior to him in the public square, and there, in the presence
of De Soto and his officers, said, “You well know that a perpetual
enmity has existed between our fathers and the Indians of Cofachiqui.
That bitter hatred, you are aware, has not abated in the least; the
deep wrongs, the notorious injuries, we have suffered from that vile
tribe, still rankle in our hearts, unrevenged! The present opportunity
must not be lost! You, the leader of my warriors, must accompany this
chief and his braves, and under their protection wreak vengeance on our
enemies! I need say no more to you; I leave our cause and our honor in
your hands.”
The Indian chief, to whom this message was addressed, was called
Patofa; he had a graceful form and striking features, with a noble
expression of countenance; and his whole demeanour showed that he was
worthy of the trust confided in him. Rising up, he threw off his mantle
of skin, seized a broadsword of palm-wood, and performed an exercise
with it which excited the admiration of even the Spanish cavaliers.
After many singular evolutions, he stopped before the cacique, and,
with a profound reverence, said, “I pledge my word to fulfil your
commands, so far as I am able; and, by the favor of these strangers, I
promise to revenge the insults, the deaths, and losses that our fathers
have sustained from the people of Cofachiqui. My vengeance shall be
such that the memory of your past evils shall be for ever wiped away.
My daring again to appear in your presence will be a token that your
commands have been executed. For if the fates deny my hopes, never
again shall you behold me, never again shall the sun shine upon me. If
the enemy deny me death, my own hand will find it. I will inflict upon
myself the punishment my cowardice or evil fortune will merit.”
The cacique rose up and embraced him, and, taking from his own
shoulders a beautiful mantle of martin-skins, placed it on Patofa’s
shoulders, and said, “I consider that what you have promised is as
certain as if it were already done; therefore do I reward you as for
services already rendered.”
The march now commenced, and soon after an Indian deserted. Patofa
sent some men in pursuit of him, and he was brought back in fetters.
The chief ordered him to be led to the banks of a small stream, where
he was stripped, thrown on the ground, and commanded to drink the
streamlet dry. The culprit drank till he could swallow no more; but
the moment he raised his head from the water, five Indians, who were
stationed near, belabored him with their clubs till he began again.
Some of his comrades hurried to De Soto, and begged his interposition;
and he was accordingly released, though half dead with the water he
had swallowed.
The army, as they advanced on the high road, at length came to a dense
forest, and, as the Indians professed to be as ignorant of the way as
the Spaniards, De Soto suspected treachery, and called upon Patofa to
explain how it was, that, of his eight thousand men, not one knew the
way to Cofachiqui, with the people of which they had been so often
engaged in war? Patofa declared his ignorance of the place, saying,
that the wars referred to had been carried on solely by skirmishes; and
as the natives of Cofachiqui were the most powerful and had been most
frequently victorious, his people were afraid to pass beyond their own
frontiers. “But,” said he, “do you suspect that I have led your army
into these deserts to perish? If so, take what hostages you please. If
my head will suffice, take it; if not, you may behead every individual
of my band, as they will obey me even to the death.”
At length, they came in sight of a country studded with numerous
villages. Here Patofa and his men stole out of the camp by night,
assaulted a temple, and massacred every Indian in it, taking their
scalps as trophies, to be carried to their cacique, Cofaqui. After
laying waste the country for many leagues, slaying and scalping every
man, woman, and child, sacking and pillaging villages and temples, and
even breaking into the sepulchres,--Patofa and his followers returned
home, laden with spoils, and pleased with having fulfilled the promise
made to the cacique.
De Soto had now reached the dominions of the kind princess Cofachiqui,
which doubtless formed a part of the present State of Georgia;[5]
but as the Indians here, and even farther on, belonged to the Florida
tribes, and as the country itself constituted a portion of the
territory originally called Florida, it will be proper to give some
account of them in this connection. We therefore pursue the narrative
of De Soto’s march through this region.
The next place mentioned in the story of the adventurers is the
province of Achalaque, said, by the narrator, to be the most wretched
in all Florida. The inhabitants were a feeble, peaceful race, nearly
naked, living chiefly on herbs, roots, and wild fowl. Beyond this, was
a province called Xuala. Crossing a chain of low mountains which were
uninhabited, the Spaniards next reached the province of Guaxule. When
within a league of the principal town, they were met by the cacique,
with 500 warriors richly dressed in mantles of various kinds of skins,
and adorned with gay feathers. His village consisted of about 300
houses. His own dwelling, into which he received De Soto, stood on a
mound, and was encircled by a terrace wide enough for six men to walk
upon it abreast.
Still farther on, after passing through a desert country, they came
to a village named Ichiaha, standing at the extremity of an island
more than five leagues in length, the cacique of which gave them a
polite and friendly welcome. After another day’s march, they came to
a village called Acoste, the cacique of which was a fierce warrior.
He placed himself in battle array at the head of 1,500 of his men,
who were decorated with war plumes, and equipped with arms. After some
difficulties, a good understanding was established, and the Spaniards
were received with hospitality. Continuing their march, they met
with numerous tribes, and encountered a great variety of adventures.
From the giant chieftain, Tuscaloosa,[6] they received the fiercest
resistance; and the Chickasaws, who were a brave and numerous people,
assailed them with desperate resolution. As they proceeded, new enemies
sprang up to meet them, who either gave them open battle, or hung
upon their skirts, and harassed them with perpetual attacks. At one
time, they came in sight of a fortress, garrisoned by Indians, whose
bodies were painted in stripes of white, black, and red, and their
faces blackened, with red circles about their eyes. Some of them wore
feathers, and some horns on their heads, so that they looked more like
devils than men. Having kindled a fire in front of their fort, they
pretended to knock one of their companions on the head with a club,
and then swung him by the feet and shoulders, as if they were throwing
him into the flames; thus intimating to the Spaniards the kind of
treatment they might expect if any of them fell into their hands. The
fortress was, however, stormed and carried after a desperate fight, and
a fearful scene of blood and carnage ensued, in which multitudes of the
Indians were slaughtered.
It is unnecessary to give further details respecting the adventures of
De Soto and his companions. We need only say, that, having proceeded
westward till he had crossed the Mississippi, this daring leader was
seized with fever, of which he died after an illness of seven days. His
band of followers, after experiencing great vicissitudes, succeeded in
descending the Mississippi, amid hosts of enemies, and, though greatly
reduced in numbers, they at length reached the Gulf of Mexico in 1543.
Thus terminated this celebrated expedition, which occupied four years,
and in which the troops are said to have marched between four and five
thousand miles.
The subsequent history of the original Indian tribes of Florida affords
nothing of interest. Under the oppression of the Spanish dominion,
many of them were destroyed, and others driven off, so that but few
remained. Most of them seem to have been conquered, incorporated with
the later Seminoles, and intermingled with fugitive negroes. The
recent painful history of these we shall hereafter notice. The greater
part have been removed across the Mississippi, by the United States
government, and only a remnant are left to occupy what is now the
Territory of Florida.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] See “Lives of Famous Indians.”
[5] For an account of Cofachiqui, see “Lives of Famous Indians.”
[6] See “Lives of Famous Indians.”
THE INDIANS OF VIRGINIA.
When the Europeans began their settlements in what is now the territory
of the United States, the whole country was occupied by a great
number of separate and independent tribes. Upon the investigation of
their languages, it has been found that they consisted of a few great
families, or nations, which have been thus distributed by learned
writers.