_The Spanish Colony._
Character of De Soto.--Cruel Command of Don Pedro.--Incident.--The
Duel.--Uracca.--Consternation at Darien.--Expedition
Organized.--Uracca's Reception of Espinosa and his Troops.--The
Spaniards Retreat.--De Soto Indignant.--Espinosa's Cruelty, and
Deposition from Command.
It was in the year 1519, when the expedition sailed from St. Lucar for
Darien. We have no account of the incidents which occurred during the
voyage. The fleet reached Darien in safety, and the Spanish
adventurers, encased in coats of mail, which the arrows and javelins
of the natives could not pierce, mounted on powerful war horses, armed
with muskets and cannon, and with packs of ferocious bloodhounds at
their command, were all prepared to scatter the helpless natives
before them, as the whirlwind scatters autumnal leaves.
De Soto was then but nineteen years of age. In stature and character
he was a mature man. There are many indications that he was a young
man of humane and honorable instincts, shrinking from the deeds of
cruelty and injustice which he saw everywhere perpetrated around him.
It is however probable, that under the rigor of military law, he at
times felt constrained to obey commands from which his kindly nature
recoiled.
Don Pedro was a monster of cruelty. He gave De Soto command of a troop
of horse. He sent him on many expeditions which required not only
great courage, but military sagacity scarcely to be expected in one so
young and inexperienced. It is however much to the credit of De Soto,
that the annalists of those days never mentioned his name in
connection with those atrocities which disgraced the administration of
Don Pedro. He even ventured at times to refuse obedience to the orders
of the governor, when commanded to engage in some service which he
deemed dishonorable.
One remarkable instance of this moral and physical intrepidity is on
record. Don Pedro had determined upon the entire destruction of a
little village occupied by the natives. The torch was to be applied,
and men, women and children, were to be put to the sword. Don Pedro
had issued such a command as this, with as much indifference as he
would have placed his foot upon an anthill. It is not improbable that
one of the objects he had in view was to impose a revolting task upon
De Soto, that he might be, as it were, whipped into implicit
obedience. He therefore sent one of the most infamous of his captains
to De Soto with the command that he should immediately take a troop of
horse, proceed to the doomed village, gallop into its peaceful and
defenceless street, set fire to every dwelling, and with their keen
sabres, cut down every man, woman and child. It was a deed fit only
for demons to execute.
De Soto deemed himself insulted in being ordered on such a mission.
This was not war,--it was butchery. The defenceless natives could make
no resistance. Indignantly and heroically he replied:
"Tell Don Pedro, the governor, that my life and services are always at
his disposal, when the duty to be performed is such as may become a
Christian and a gentleman. But in the present case, I think the
governor would have shown more discretion by entrusting you, Captain
Perez, with this commission, instead of sending you with the order to
myself."
This reply Captain Perez might certainly regard as reflecting very
severely upon his own character, and as authorizing him to demand that
satisfaction which, under such circumstances, one cavalier expects of
another. He however carried the message to the governor. Don Pedro was
highly gratified. He saw that a duel was the necessary result. Captain
Perez was a veteran soldier, and was the most expert swordsman in the
army. He was famed for his quarrelsome disposition; had already
fought many duels, in which he had invariably killed his man. In a
rencontre between the youthful De Soto and the veteran Captain Perez,
there could be no doubt in the mind of the governor as to the result.
He therefore smiled very blandly upon Captain Perez, and said in
language which the captain fully understood:
"Well, my friend, if you, who are a veteran soldier, can endure the
insolence of this young man, De Soto, I see no reason why an infirm
old man like myself should not show equal forbearance."
Captain Perez was not at all reluctant to take the hint. It was only
giving him an opportunity to add another to the list of those who had
fallen before his sword. The challenge was immediately given. De
Soto's doom was deemed sealed. Duels in the Spanish army were
fashionable, and there was no moral sentiment which recoiled in the
slightest degree from the barbaric practice.
The two combatants met with drawn swords in the presence of nearly all
the officers of the colonial army, and of a vast concourse of
spectators. The stripling De Soto displayed skill with his weapon
which not only baffled his opponent, but which excited the surprise
and admiration of all the on-lookers. For two hours the deadly
conflict continued, without any decisive results. De Soto had received
several trifling wounds, while his antagonist was unharmed. At
length, by a fortunate blow, he inflicted such a gash upon the right
wrist of Perez, that his sword dropped from his hand. As he attempted
to catch it with his left hand, he stumbled and fell to the ground. De
Soto instantly stood over him with his sword at his breast, demanding
that he should ask for his life. The proud duellist, thus for the
first time in his life discomfited, was chagrined beyond endurance. In
sullen silence, he refused to cry for mercy. De Soto magnanimously
returned his sword to its scabbard, saying: "The life that is not
worth asking for, is not worth taking."
He then gracefully bowed to the numerous spectators and retired from
the field, greeted with the enthusiastic acclaim of all who were
present. This achievement gave the youthful victor prominence above
any other man in the army. Perez was so humiliated by his defeat, that
he threw up his commission and returned to Spain. Thus the New World
was rid of one of the vilest of the adventurers who had cursed it.
The region of the peninsula, and the adjoining territory of South
America, were at that time quite densely populated. The inhabitants
seem to have been a happy people, not fond of war, and yet by no means
deficient in bravery. The Spanish colonists were but a handful among
them. But the war horse, bloodhounds, steel coats of mail and
gunpowder, gave them an immense, almost resistless superiority.
There was at this time, about the year 1521, an Indian chief by the
name of Uracca, who reigned over quite a populous nation, occupying
one of the northern provinces of the isthmus. He was a man of unusual
intelligence and ability. The outrages which the Spaniards were
perpetrating roused all his energies of resentment, and he resolved to
adopt desperate measures for their extermination. He gathered an army
of twenty thousand men. In that warm climate, in accordance with
immemorial usage, they went but half clothed. Their weapons were
mainly bows, with poisoned arrows; though they had also javelins and
clumsy swords made of a hard kind of wood.
The tidings of the approach of this army excited the greatest
consternation at Darien. A shower of poisoned arrows from the strong
arms of twenty thousand native warriors, driven forward by the
energies of despair, even these steel-clad adventurers could not
contemplate without dread. The Spaniards had taught the natives
cruelty. They had hunted them down with bloodhounds; they had cut off
their hands with the sword; they had fed their dogs with their
infants; had tortured them at slow fires and cast their children into
the flames. They could not expect that the natives could be more
merciful than the Spaniards had been.
Don Pedro, instead of waiting the arrival of his foes, decided to
assail the army on its march, hoping to take it by surprise and to
throw consternation into the advancing ranks. He divided his army of
attack into two parties. One division of about one hundred men, he
sent in two small vessels along the western coast of the isthmus, to
invade the villages of Uracca, hoping thus to compel the Indian chief
to draw back his army for the defence of his own territories. This
expedition was under the command of General Espinosa.
The main body of the Spanish troops, consisting of about two hundred
men, marched along the eastern shore of the isthmus, intending
eventually to effect a junction with the naval force in the realms of
the foe. The energetic, but infamous Francisco Pizarro, led these
troops. A very important part of his command consisted of a band of
dragoons, thirty or forty in number, under the leadership of De Soto.
His steel-clad warriors were well mounted, with housings which greatly
protected their steeds from the arrows of the natives.
The wary Indian chieftain, who developed during the campaign military
abilities of a high order, had his scouts out in all directions. They
discerned in the distant horizon the approach of the two vessels, and
swift runners speedily reported the fact to Uracca. He immediately
marched with a force in his judgment sufficiently strong to crush the
invaders, notwithstanding their vast superiority in arms.
The Spaniards entered a sheltered bay skirted by a plain, which could
be swept by their guns, and where the Indian warriors would have no
opportunity to hide in ambush. Uracca allowed the Spaniards to
disembark unopposed. He stationed his troops, several thousand in
number, in a hilly country, several leagues distant from the place of
landing, which was broken with chasms and vast boulders, and covered
with tropical forest. Here every Indian could fight behind a rampart,
and the Spaniards could only approach in the scattered line of
skirmishers. The proud Spaniards advanced in their invading march with
as much of war's pageantry as could be assumed. They hoped that
nodding plumes and waving banners, and trumpet peals, would strike
with consternation the heart of the Indians.
Uracca calmly awaited their approach. His men were so concealed that
Espinosa could form no judgment of their numbers or position. Indeed
he was scarcely conscious that there was any foe there who would
venture to oppose his march. Accustomed as he was to ride rough shod
over the naked Indians, he was emboldened by a fatal contempt for the
prowess of his foe. Uracca allowed the Spaniards to become entangled
in the intricacies of rocks and gullies and gigantic forest trees,
when suddenly he opened upon them such a shower of poisoned arrows as
the Spaniards had never encountered before. The touch of one of these
arrows, breaking the skin, caused immediate and intense agony, and
almost certain death. The sinewy arms of the Indians could throw these
sharp-pointed weapons with almost the precision and force of a bullet,
and with far greater rapidity than the Spaniards could load and fire
their muskets.
Espinosa found himself assailed by a foe outnumbering him ten or
twenty to one. The air was almost darkened with arrows, and every one
was thrown with unerring aim. The rout of the Spaniards was almost
instantaneous. Several were killed, many wounded. In a panic, they
turned and fled precipitately from the trap in which they had been
caught. The natives impetuously pursued, showing no quarter, evidently
determined to exterminate the whole band.
It so happened that De Soto, with his dragoons, had left Pizarro's
band, and in a military incursion into the country, was approaching
the bay where Espinosa had landed his troops. Suddenly the clamor of
the conflict burst upon his ear--the shouts of the Indian warriors and
the cry of the fugitive Spaniards. His little band put spurs to their
horses and hastened to the scene of action. Very great difficulties
impeded their progress. The rugged ground, encumbered by rocks and
broken by ravines, was almost impassable for horsemen. But the energy
of De Soto triumphed over these obstacles, even when the bravest of
his companions remonstrated and hesitated to follow him. At length he
reached the open country over which the Spaniards were rushing to gain
their ships, pursued by the Indians in numbers and strength which
seemed to render the destruction of the Spaniards certain.
The natives stood in great dread of the horses. When they saw the
dragoons, glittering in their steel armor, come clattering down upon
the plain, their pursuit was instantly checked. Espinosa, thus
unexpectedly reinforced, rallied his panic-stricken troops, and in
good order continued the retreat to the ships. De Soto with his
cavalry occupied the post of danger as rear-guard. The Indians
cautiously followed, watching for every opportunity which the
inequalities of the ground might offer, to assail the invaders with
showers of arrows. Occasionally De Soto would halt and turn his
horses' heads towards the Indians. Apprehensive of a charge, they
would then fall back. The retreat was thus conducted safely, but
slowly.
The Spaniards had advanced many leagues from the shores of the
Pacific. They were now almost perishing from hunger and fatigue.
Indian bands were coming from all directions to reinforce the native
troops. The sun was going down and night was approaching. All hearts
were oppressed with the greatest anxiety. Just then Pizarro, with his
two hundred men, made his appearance. He had not been far away, and a
courier having informed him of the peril of the Spaniards, he hastened
to their relief. Night with its gloom settled down over the plain, and
war's hideous clamor was for a few hours hushed. The morning would
usher in a renewal of the battle, under circumstances which caused the
boldest hearts in the Spanish camp to tremble.
In the night Generals Espinosa and Pizarro held a council of war, and
came to the inglorious resolve to steal away under the protection of
darkness, leaving Uracca in undisputed possession of the field. This
decision excited the indignation of De Soto. He considered it a
disgrace to the Spanish arms, and declared that it would only embolden
the natives in all their future military operations. His bitter
remonstrances were only answered by a sneer from General Espinosa,
who assured him that the veteran captains of Spain would not look to
his youth and inexperience for guidance and wisdom.
At midnight the Spaniards commenced their retreat as secretly and
silently as possible. But they had a foe to deal with who was not
easily to be deceived. His scouts were on the alert, and immediate
notice was communicated to Uracca of the movements of the Spaniards.
The pursuit was conducted with as much vigor as the flight. For eight
and forty hours the fugitives were followed so closely, and with such
fierce assailment, that large numbers of the rank and file perished.
The officers and the dragoons of De Soto, wearing defensive armor,
generally escaped unharmed. The remnant at length, weary and
famine-stricken, reached their ships and immediately put to sea. With
the exception of De Soto's dragoons, they numbered but fifty men.
Deeply despondent in view of their disastrous campaign, they sailed
several leagues along the western coast of the isthmus towards the
south, till they reached a flourishing Indian village called Borrica.
Conscious that here they were beyond the immediate reach of Uracca's
avenging forces, they ventured to land. They found all the men absent.
They were probably in the ranks of the native army.
General Espinosa, who was now chief in command, meanly sacked the
defenceless village and captured all the women and children, to be
sent to the West Indies and sold as slaves. The generous heart of De
Soto was roused by this outrage. He was an imperious man, and was
never disposed to be very complaisant to his superiors. Sternly
the young captain rebuked Espinosa as a kidnapper, stealing the
defenceless; and he demanded that the prisoners should be set at
liberty. An angry controversy ensued. De Soto accused Espinosa of
cowardice and imbecility, in ordering the troops of Spain to retreat
before naked savages. Espinosa, whose domineering spirit could brook
no opposition, accused De Soto of mutinous conduct, and threatened to
report him to the governor. De Soto angrily turned his heel upon his
superior officer and called upon his troops to mount their horses.
Riding proudly at their head, he approached the tent of Espinosa and
thus addressed him:
"Senor Espinosa, the governor did not place me under your command, and
you have no claim to my obedience. I now give you notice, that if you
retain these prisoners so cruelly and unjustly captured, you must do
so at your own risk. If these Indian warriors choose to make any
attempt to recover their wives and their children, I declare to you
upon my solemn oath, and by all that I hold most sacred, that they
shall meet with no opposition from me. Consider, therefore, whether
you have the power to defend yourself and secure your prey, when I
and my companions have withdrawn from this spot."
Pizarro does not seem to have taken any active part in this dispute,
though he advised the headstrong Espinosa to give up his captives.
While these scenes were transpiring, about one hundred of the men of
the village returned. Most earnestly they entreated the release of
their wives and children. If not peacefully released, it was pretty
evident that they would fight desperately for their rescue. It was
quite apparent that the Indian runners had gone in all directions to
summon others to their aid. The withdrawal of De Soto left Espinosa so
weakened that he could hardly hope successfully to repel such forces.
Indeed he was so situated that, destitute of provisions and
ammunition, he did not dare to undertake a march back through the
wilderness to Darien. He therefore very ungraciously consented to
surrender his captives.
Governor Don Pedro had established his headquarters at Panama. De
Soto, accompanied by a single dragoon, who like himself was an
admirable horseman, rode with the utmost possible dispatch to Panama,
where he informed the governor of the disasters which had befallen
the expedition, and of the precarious condition in which he had left
the remnant of the troops. He also made such representation of the
military conduct of General Espinosa as to induce the governor to
remove him from the command and send General Herman Ponce to take his
place. The garrison at Panama was then so weak that only forty men
could be spared to go to the relief of the troops at Borrica.
In the mean time the Indian chief Uracca had received full information
of the position and condition of the Spanish troops. Very sagaciously
he formed his plan to cut off their retreat. Detachments of warriors
were placed at every point through which they could escape; they could
not venture a league from their ramparts on any foraging expedition,
and no food could reach them. They obtained a miserable subsistence
from roots and herbs.
At length De Soto returned with a fresh supply of ammunition and the
small reinforcement. By the aid of his cavalry he so far broke up the
blockade as to obtain food for the famishing troops. Still it was very
hazardous to attempt a retreat to Panama. With the reinforcements led
by General Ponce, their whole army, infantry and cavalry, amounted to
less than one hundred and fifty men. They would be compelled on their
retreat to climb mountains, plunge into ragged ravines, thread
tropical forests and narrow defiles, where armies of uncounted
thousands of natives were ready to dispute their passage.