_The Conspiracy and its Consequences._
The Three Brother Chieftains.--Reply of Vitachuco to his
Brothers.--Feigned Friendship for the Spaniards.--The
Conspiracy.--Its Consummation and Results.--Clemency of
De Soto.--The Second Conspiracy.--Slaughter of the
Indians.--March of the Spaniards for Osachile.--Battle
in the Morass.
Of the three brothers who reigned over this extended territory the
elder bore the same name with the province which he governed, which
was Vitachuco. He was far the most powerful of the three, in both the
extent and populousness of his domain. His two brothers had united in
sending an embassy to him, earnestly enjoining the expediency of
cultivating friendly relations with the Spaniards. The following very
extraordinary reply, which he returned, is given by Garcilaso de la
Vega. And though he says he quotes from memory, still he pledges his
word of honor, that it is a truthful record of the message Vitachuco
sent back. We read it with wonder, as it indicates a degree of mental
enlightenment, which we had not supposed could have been found among
those semi-civilized people.
"It is evident," said the chief to his brothers, "that you are young
and have neither judgment nor experience, or you would never speak as
you have done of these hated white men. You extol them as virtuous
men, who injure no one. You say that they are valiant; are children of
the Sun, and merit all our reverence and service. The vile chains
which they have hung upon you, and the mean and dastardly spirit which
you have acquired during the short period you have been their slaves,
have caused you to speak like women, lauding what you should censure
and abhor.
"You remember not that these strangers can be no better than those who
formerly committed so many cruelties in our country. Are they not of
the same nation and subject to the same laws? Do not their manner of
life and actions prove them to be the children of the spirit of evil,
and not of the Sun and Moon--our Gods? Go they not from land to land
plundering and destroying; taking the wives and daughters of others
instead of bringing their own with them; and like mere vagabonds
maintaining themselves by the laborious toil and sweating brow of
others!
"Were they virtuous, as you represent, they never would have left
their own country; since there they might have practised their
virtues; planting and cultivating the earth, maintaining themselves,
without prejudice to others or injury to themselves, instead of
roving about the world, committing robberies and murders, having
neither the shame of men nor the fear of God before them. Warn them
not to enter into my dominions. Valiant as they may be, if they dare
to put foot upon my soil, they shall never go out of my land alive."
De Soto and his army remained eight days at Ochile. By unwearied
kindness, he so won the confidence of the two brother chiefs, that
they went in person to Vitachuco to endeavor by their united
representations to win him to friendly relations with the Spaniards.
Apparently they succeeded. Vitachuco either became really convinced
that he had misjudged the strangers, or feigned reconciliation. He
invited De Soto and his army to visit his territory, assigning to them
an encampment in a rich and blooming valley. On an appointed day the
chief advanced to meet them, accompanied by his two brothers and five
hundred warriors, in the richest decorations and best armament of
military art as then understood by the Floridians.
De Soto and Vitachuco were about of the same age and alike magnificent
specimens of physical manhood. The meeting between them was as cordial
as if they had always been friends. The Indian warriors escorted their
guests from their encampment to the capital. It consisted of two
hundred spacious edifices, strongly built of hewn timber. Several days
were passed in feasting and rejoicing, when Juan Ortiz informed the
governor that some friendly Indians had revealed to him that a plot
had been formed, by Vitachuco, for the entire destruction of the
Spanish army.
The chief was to assemble his warriors, to the number of about ten
thousand, upon an extensive plain, just outside the city, ostensibly
to gratify De Soto with the splendors of a peaceable parade. To disarm
all suspicion, they were to appear without any weapons of war, which
weapons were however previously to be concealed in the long grass of
the prairie. De Soto was to be invited to walk out with the chief to
witness the spectacle. Twelve very powerful Indians, with concealed
arms, were to accompany the chief or to be near at hand. It was
supposed that the pageant would call out nearly all the Spaniards, and
that they would be carelessly sauntering over the plain. At a given
signal, the twelve Indians were to rush upon De Soto, and take him
captive if possible, or if it were inevitable, put him to death.
At the same moment the whole band of native warriors, grasping their
arms, was to rush upon the Spaniards in overpowering numbers of ten to
one. In this way it was supposed that every man could speedily be put
to death or captured. Those who were taken prisoners were to be
exposed to the utmost ingenuity of Indian torture.
This seemed a very plausible story. De Soto, upon careful inquiry,
became satisfied of its truth. He consulted his captains, and decided
to be so prepared for the emergence, that should he be thus attacked,
the Indian chief would fall into the trap which he had prepared for
his victims.
The designated day arrived. The sun rose in a cloudless sky and a
gentle breeze swept the prairie. Early in the morning, Vitachuco
called upon De Soto, and very obsequiously solicited him to confer
upon him the honor of witnessing a grand muster of his subjects. He
said they would appear entirely unarmed, but he wished De Soto to
witness their evolutions, that he might compare them with the military
drill of European armies. De Soto, assuming a very friendly and
unsuspicious air, assured the chief, that he should be very happy to
witness the pageant. And to add to its imposing display, and in his
turn to do something to interest the natives, he said he would call
out his whole force of infantry and cavalry, and arrange them in full
battle array on the opposite side of the plain.
The chief was evidently much embarrassed by this proposition, but he
did not venture to present any obstacles. Knowing the valor and
ferocity of his troops, he still thought that with De Soto as his
captive, he could crush the Spaniards by overwhelming numbers. Matters
being thus arranged, the whole Spanish army, in its most glittering
array, defiled upon the plain. De Soto was secretly well armed.
Servants were ready with two of the finest horses to rush to his aid.
A body-guard of twelve of his most stalwart men loitered carelessly
around him.
At nine o'clock in the morning, De Soto and Vitachuco walked out, side
by side, accompanied by their few attendants and ascended a slight
eminence which commanded a view of the field. Notwithstanding the
careless air assumed by De Soto, he was watching every movement of
Vitachuco with intensest interest. The instant the Indian chief gave
his signal, his attendants rushed upon De Soto, and his ten thousand
warriors grasped their arrows and javelins, and with the hideous
war-whoop rushed upon the Spaniards. But at the same instant a bugle
blast, echoing over the plain, put the whole Spanish army in motion in
an impetuous charge. The two signals for the deadly conflict seemed to
be simultaneous. The body-guard of De Soto, with their far superior
weapons, not only repelled the Indian assailants, but seized and bound
Vitachuco as their captive. De Soto lost not a moment in mounting a
horse, led to him by his servant. But the noble animal fell dead
beneath him, pierced by many arrows. Another steed was instantly at
his side, and De Soto was at the head of his cavalry, leading the
charge. Never, perhaps, before, did so terrible a storm burst thus
suddenly from so serene a sky.
The natives fought with valor and ferocity which could not be
surpassed even by the Spaniards. All the day long the sanguinary
battle raged, until terminated by the darkness of the night. The field
was bordered, on one side, by a dense forest, and on the other by a
large body of water, consisting of two lakes. Some of the natives
escaped into the almost impenetrable forest. Many were drowned.
Several of the young men, but eighteen years of age, who were taken
captive,--the sons of chiefs,--developed a heroism of character which
attracted the highest admiration of De Soto. They fought to the last
possible moment, and when finally captured, expressed great regret
that they had not been able to die for their country. They said to
their conqueror,
"If you wish to add to your favors, take our lives. After surviving
the defeat and capture of our chieftain, we are not worthy to appear
before him, or to live in the world."
It is said that De Soto was greatly moved with compassion in view of
the calamity which had befallen these noble young men. He embraced
them with parental tenderness, and commended their valor, which he
regarded as proof of their noble blood.
"For two days," writes Mr. Irving, "he detained them in the
camp, feasting them at his table and treating them with every
distinction; at the end of which time he dismissed them with
presents of linen, cloths, silks, mirrors and other articles
of Spanish manufacture. He also sent by them presents to
their fathers and relations, with proffers of friendship."
De Soto had succeeded in capturing four of the most distinguished
captains of Vitachuco. They had been ostensibly the friends of the
Spaniard, had ate at his table and had apparently reciprocated all his
kindly words and deeds. While thus deceiving him, they had cooperated
with Vitachuco for his destruction. De Soto summoned them with their
chief before him.
"He reproached them," says Mr. Irving "with the treacherous
and murderous plot, devised against him and his soldiers, at
a time when they were professing the kindest amity. Such
treason, he observed, merited death; yet he wished to give
the natives evidence of his clemency. He pardoned them,
therefore, and restored them to his friendship; warning them,
however, to beware how they again deceived him, or trespassed
against the safety and welfare of the Spaniards, lest they
should bring down upon themselves dire and terrible revenge."
Vitachuco was now a captive. Yet notwithstanding the conspiracy which
had led to such deplorable results, De Soto treated him with great
kindness, giving him a seat at his own table, and endeavoring in all
ways to obliterate the remembrance of the conflict. De Soto was in
search of gold. He had heard of mountains of that precious metal far
away in the interior. The natives had no wealth which he desired to
plunder. Their hostility he exceedingly deprecated, as it deprived him
of food, of comforts, and exposed his little band to the danger of
being cut off and annihilated, as were the troops of Narvaez, who had
preceded him. The past career of De Soto proves, conclusively, that he
was by nature a humane man, loving what he conceived to be justice.
Under these circumstances, a wise policy demanded that he should do
what he could to conciliate the natives before he advanced in his
adventurous journey, leaving them, if hostile, disposed to cut off his
return. It is said that nine hundred of the most distinguished
warriors of Vitachuco were virtually enslaved, one of whom was
assigned to each of the Spaniards, to serve him in the camp and at the
table. Such at least is the story as it comes down to us. Vitachuco
formed the plan again to assail the Spaniards by a concerted action
at the dinner-table. Every warrior was to be ready to surprise and
seize his master, and put him to death. There is much in this
narrative which seems improbable. We will, however, give it to our
readers as recorded by Mr. Irving in his very carefully written
history of the Conquest of Florida. We know not how it can be
presented in a more impartial manner.
"Scarcely had Vitachuco conceived this rash scheme than he
hastened to put it into operation. He had four young Indians
to attend him as pages. These he sent to the principal
prisoners, revealing his plan, with orders that they should
pass it secretly and adroitly from one to another, and hold
themselves in readiness, at the appointed time, to carry it
into effect. The dinner hour of the third day was the time
fixed upon for striking the blow. Vitachuco would be dining
with the governor, and the Indians in general attending upon
their respective masters.
"The cacique was to watch his opportunity, spring upon the
governor and kill him, giving at the moment of assault a
war-whoop which should resound throughout the village. The
war-whoop was to be the signal for every Indian to grapple
with his master or with any other Spaniard at hand and
dispatch him on the spot.
"On the day appointed Vitachuco dined as usual with the
governor. When the repast was concluded, he sprang upon his
feet, closed instantly with the governor, seized him with
the left hand by the collar, and with the other fist dealt
him such a blow in the face as to level him with the ground,
the blood gushing out of eyes, nose and mouth. The cacique
threw himself upon his victim to finish his work, giving at
the same time his signal war-whoop.
"All this was the work of an instant; and before the
officers present had time to recover from their
astonishment, the governor lay senseless beneath the tiger
grasp of Vitachuco. One more blow from the savage would have
been fatal; but before he could give it a dozen swords and
lances were thrust through his body, and he fell dead.
"The war-whoop had resounded through the village. Hearing
the fatal signal, the Indians, attending upon their masters,
assailed them with whatever missile they could command. Some
seized upon pikes and swords; others snatched up the pots in
which meal was stewing at the fire, and beating the
Spaniards about the head, bruised and scalded them at the
same time. Some caught up plates, pitchers, jars, and the
pestles wherewith they pounded the maize. Others seized upon
stools, benches and tables, striking with impotent fury,
when their weapons had not the power to harm. Others
snatched up burning fire-brands, and rushed like very
devils into the affray. Many of the Spaniards were terribly
burned, bruised and scalded. Some had their arms broken."
This terrible conflict was of short duration. Though the Spaniards
were taken by surprise, they were not unarmed. Their long keen sabres
gave them a great advantage over their assailants. Though several were
slain, and many more severely wounded, the natives were soon
overpowered. The exasperated Spaniards were not disposed to show much
mercy. In these two conflicts with the Indians, Vitachuco fell, and
thirteen hundred of his ablest warriors.
De Soto had received so terrific a blow, that for half an hour he
remained insensible. The gigantic fist of the savage had awfully
bruised his face, knocking out several of his teeth. It was four days
before he recovered sufficient strength to continue his march and
twenty days elapsed before he could take any solid food. On the fifth
day after this great disaster the Spaniards resumed their journeyings
in a northwest direction, in search of a province of which they had
heard favorable accounts, called Osachile. The first day they advanced
but about twelve miles, encamping upon the banks of a broad and deep
river, which is supposed to have been the Suwanee.
A band of Indians was upon the opposite side of the stream evidently
in hostile array. The Spaniards spent a day and a half in constructing
rafts to float them across. They approached the shore in such
strength, that the Indians took to flight, without assailing them.
Having crossed the river they entered upon a prairie country of
fertile soil, where the industrious Indians had many fields well
filled with corn, beans and pumpkins. But as they journeyed on, the
Indians, in small bands, assailed them at every point from which an
unseen arrow or javelin could be thrown. The Spaniards, on their
march, kept in quite a compact body, numbering seven or eight hundred
men, several hundred of whom were mounted on horses gayly caparisoned,
which animals, be it remembered, the Indians had never before seen.
After proceeding about thirty miles through a pretty well cultivated
country, with scattered farm-houses, they came to quite an important
Indian town called Osachile. It contained about two hundred houses;
but the terrified inhabitants had fled, taking with them their most
valuable effects, and utter solitude reigned in its streets.
The country was generally flat, though occasionally it assumed a
little of the character of what is called the rolling prairie. The
Indian towns were always built upon some gentle swell of land. Where
this could not be found, they often constructed artificial mounds of
earth, sufficient in extent to contain from ten to twenty houses. Upon
one of these the chief and his immediate attendants would rear their
dwellings, while the more humble abodes of the common people, were
clustered around. At Osachile De Soto found an ample supply of
provisions, and he remained there two days.
It is supposed that Osachile was at the point now called Old Town.
Here De Soto was informed by captive Indians that about thirty leagues
to the west there was a very rich and populous country called
Appalachee. The natives were warlike in the highest degree, spreading
the terror of their name through all the region around. Gold was said
to abound there. The country to be passed through, before reaching
that territory, was filled with gloomy swamps and impenetrable
thickets, where there was opportunity for ambuscades. De Soto was told
that the Appalachians would certainly destroy his whole army should he
attempt to pass through those barriers and enter their borders.
This peril was only an incentive to the adventurous spirit of the
Spanish commander. To abandon the enterprise and return without the
gold, would be not only humiliating, but would be his utter ruin. He
had already expended in the undertaking all that he possessed. He had
no scruples of conscience to retard his march, however sanguinary the
hostility of the natives might render it. It was the doctrine of the
so-called church at Rome, that Christians were entitled to the
possessions of the heathen; and though De Soto himself by no means
professed to be actuated by that motive, the principle unquestionably
influenced nearly his whole army.
But he did assume that he was a peaceful traveller, desiring to
cultivate only friendly relations with the natives, and that he had a
right to explore this wilderness of the new world in search of those
precious medals of which the natives knew not the value, but which
were of so much importance to the interest of all civilized nations.
For three days the Spaniards toiled painfully along over an arid,
desert plain, beneath a burning sun. About noon on the fourth day they
reached a vast swamp, probably near the Estauhatchee river. This swamp
was bordered by a gloomy forest, with gigantic trees, and a dense,
impervious underbrush, ever stimulated to wonderful luxuriance by an
almost tropical sun and a moist and spongy soil. Through this morass
the Indians, during generations long since passed away, had
constructed a narrow trail or path about three feet wide. This
passage, on both sides, was walled up by thorny and entangled
vegetation almost as impenetrable as if it were brick or stone.
In the centre of this gloomy forest, there was a sheet of shallow
water about a mile and a half in width and extending north and south
as far as the eye could reach. The Indians had discovered a ford
across this lake till they came to the main channel in the centre,
which was about one hundred and twenty feet wide. This channel, in the
motionless waters, was passed by a rude bridge consisting of trees
tied together.
De Soto encamped on the borders of this gloomy region for a short time
to become acquainted with the route and to force the passage. There
were various spots where the Indians, familiar with the whole region,
lay in ambush. From their unseen coverts, they could assail the
Spaniards with a shower of arrows as they defiled through the narrow
pass, and escape beyond any possibility of pursuit. Compelling some
Indians to operate as guides, under penalty of being torn to pieces by
bloodhounds, De Soto commenced his march just after midnight. Two
hundred picked men on foot, but carefully encased in armor, led the
advance in a long line two abreast. Every man was furnished with his
day's allowance of food in the form of roasted kernels of corn. They
pressed along through a path which they could not lose, and from which
they could not wander, till they reached the lake. Here the guides led
them along by a narrow ford, up to their waists in water, till they
reached the bridge of logs. The advance-guard had just passed over
this bridge when the day dawned, and they were discovered by the
Indians, who had not supposed they would attempt to cross the morass
by night.
The Appalachian warriors, with hideous yells and great bravery, rushed
into the lake to meet their foes. Here Spaniard and Floridian grappled
in the death struggle up to their waists in water. The steel-clad
Spaniards, with their superior arms, prevailed, and the natives
repulsed, rushed into the narrow defile upon the other side of the
lake. The main body of the army pressed on, though continually and
fiercely assailed by the arrows of the Indians. Arriving at a point
where there was an expanse of tolerably dry ground, De Soto sent into
the forests around forty skirmishers to keep off the Indians, while a
hundred and fifty men were employed in felling trees and burning
brush, in preparation for an encampment for the night.
Exhausted by the toil of the march and of the battle; drenched with
the waters of the lake; many of them suffering from wounds, they threw
themselves down upon the hot and smouldering soil for sleep. But there
was no repose for them that night. During all the hours of darkness,
the prowling natives kept up a continuous clamor, with ever recurring
assaults. With the first dawn of the morning the Spaniards resumed
their march, anxious to get out of the defile and into the open
prairie beyond, where they could avail themselves of their horses, of
which the Indians stood in great dread. As they gradually emerged from
the impenetrable thicket into the more open forest, the army could be
spread out more effectually, and the horsesmen could be brought a
little more into action. But here the valor of the natives did not
forsake them.
"As soon as the Spaniards," writes Mr. Irving, "entered this
more open woodland, they were assailed by showers of arrows
on every side. The Indians, scattered about among the
thickets, sallied forth, plied their bows with intense
rapidity, and plunged again into the forest. The horses were
of no avail. The arquebusiers and archers seemed no longer a
terror; for in the time a Spaniard could make one discharge,
and reload his musket or place another bolt in his cross-bow,
an Indian would launch six or seven arrows. Scarce had one
arrow taken flight before another was in the bow. For two
long leagues did the Spaniards toil and fight their way
forward through this forest.
"Irritated and mortified by these galling attacks and the
impossibility of retaliating, at length they emerged into an
open and level country. Here, overjoyed at being freed from
this forest prison, they gave reins to their horses, and free
vent to their smothered rage, and scoured the plain, lancing
and cutting down every Indian they encountered. But few of
the enemy were taken prisoners, many were put to the sword."