_The Dreadful Battle of Mobila._
The Army in Alabama.--Barbaric Pageant.--The Chief of
Tuscaloosa.--Native Dignity.--Suspected Treachery of the
Chief.--Mobila, its Location and Importance.--Cunning of
the Chief.--The Spaniards Attacked.--Incidents of the
Battle.--Disastrous Results.
On the 15th of July, 1540, the army came in sight of the metropolitan
town of the rich and populous province through which it was passing.
The town, like the province, bore the name of Coosa. The army had
travelled slowly, so that the native chief, by his swift footmen, had
easily kept himself informed of all its movements. When within a mile
or two of Coosa, De Soto saw in the distance a very splendid display
of martial bands advancing to meet him. The friendly greeting he had
continually received disarmed all suspicion of a hostile encounter.
The procession rapidly approached. At its head was the chief, a young
man twenty-six years of age, of admirable figure and countenance,
borne in a chair palanquin upon the shoulders of four of his warriors.
A thousand soldiers, in their most gaudy attire, composed his train.
As they drew near, with the music of well-played flutes, with regular
tread, their mantles and plumes waving in the breeze, all the
Spaniards were alike impressed with the beauty of the spectacle. The
chief himself was decorated with a mantle of rich furs gracefully
thrown over his shoulders. His diadem was of plumes very brilliantly
colored. He addressed De Soto in the following speech:
"Mighty chief, above all others of the earth. Although I come now to
receive you, yet I received you many days ago deep in my heart. If I
had the whole world it would not give me as much pleasure as I now
enjoy at the presence of yourself and your incomparable warriors. My
person, lands, and subjects are at your service. I will now march you
to your quarters with playing and singing."[F]
[Footnote F: Portuguese Narrative, p. 719.]
De Soto made a suitable response. Then the two armies, numbering, with
their attendants, more than two thousand men, commenced their march
toward the town. The native chief was borne in his palanquin, and De
Soto rode on his magnificent charger by his side. The royal palace was
assigned to De Soto, and one-half of the houses in the town were
appropriated to the soldiers for their lodgings.
The town of Coosa, which consisted of five hundred houses, was
situated on the east bank of the river of the same name, between two
creeks now known as Talladega and Tallasehatchee. During a residence
of twelve days in this delightful retreat, some slight disturbance
arose between some of the natives and some of the Spanish soldiers. It
was, however, easily quelled by the prudence and friendly disposition
of the chief and the Governor. Indeed, the native chief became so
attached to De Soto as to urge him to establish his colony there. Or
if he could not consent to that arrangement, at least to spend the
winter with him.
"But De Soto," writes Mr. Irving, "was anxious to arrive at
the bay of Achusi, where he had appointed Captain Diego
Maldonado to meet him in the autumn. Since leaving the
province of Xuala he had merely made a bend through the
country, and was now striking southerly for the sea-coast."
On the 20th of August the Spanish army, after having spent twenty-five
days at Coosa, was again in movement. The chief of Coosa, and a large
body of his warriors, accompanied De Soto to their frontiers,
evidently as a friendly retinue. The Portuguese Narrative makes the
incredible assertion that they were all prisoners, compelled to follow
the army for its protection and as guides. With much more probability
it is represented that one of the chief's subordinate officers on the
frontier was in a state of insurrection, and that upon that account
the chief gladly accompanied the Spaniards, hoping to overawe his
refractory subjects by appearing among them with such formidable
allies.
The Spaniards now entered the territory of Tuscaloosa, who was the
most warlike and powerful chieftain of all the southern tribes. His
domain comprised nearly the whole of the present States of Alabama and
Mississippi. The Tuscaloosa, or Black Warrior river, flowed through
one of the richest of his valleys. Though there were no mails or
telegraphs in those days, Indian runners conveyed all important
intelligence with very considerable rapidity. The chief had heard of
the approach of the Spaniards, and the annalists of those days say, we
know not with what authority, that he hesitated whether to receive
them as friends or foes. Whatever may have been his secret thoughts,
he certainly sent his son, a young man of eighteen, with a retinue of
warriors, to meet De Soto with proffers of friendship.
The young ambassador was a splendid specimen of manhood, being taller
than any Spaniard or Indian in the army, and admirably formed for both
strength and agility. In his bearing he was self-possessed and
courteous, appearing like a gentleman accustomed to polished society.
De Soto was much impressed by his appearance and princely manners. He
received him with the utmost kindness, made him several valuable
presents, and dismissed him with friendly messages to his father,
stating that he cordially accepted of his friendship, and would
shortly visit him.
De Soto then crossed the river Tuscaloosa, or Black Warrior, having
first taken an affectionate leave of the Cacique of Coosa, who had
accompanied him to this frontier river. A journey of two days brought
the Spaniards to within six miles of the large village where the chief
of Tuscaloosa was awaiting their arrival. As they reached this spot in
the evening, they encamped for the night in a pleasant grove. Early
the next morning De Soto sent forward a courier to apprise the chief
of his arrival, and set out soon after himself, accompanied by a
suitable retinue of horsemen.
The chief had, however, by his own scouts, kept himself informed of
every movement of the Spaniards. He had repaired with a hundred of his
nobles, and a large band of warriors, to the summit of a hill, over
which the route of the Spaniards led, and which commanded a
magnificent prospect of the country for many leagues around. He was
seated on a chair of state, and a canopy of parti-colored deerskin,
very softly tanned, and somewhat resembling a large umbrella, was held
over his head. His chief men were arranged respectfully and in order
near him, while at a little distance his warriors were posted in
martial bands. The whole spectacle, crowning the smooth and verdant
hill, presented a beautiful pageant.
The Cacique was about forty years of age, and of gigantic proportions,
being, like his son, nearly a head taller than any of his attendants.
He was well-formed, and his countenance indicated perfect
self-possession, intelligence, and great firmness. The sight of the
cavaliers approaching with their silken banners, their glittering
armor, and bestride their magnificent steeds, must have been
astounding in the highest degree to one who had never seen a quadruped
larger than a dog. But the proud chief assumed an air of imperturbable
gravity and indifference.
One would have supposed that he had been accustomed to such scenes
from his childhood. He did not deign even to look upon the horsemen,
though some of them endeavored to arrest his attention by causing the
animals to prance and rear. Without taking the slightest notice of the
cavaliers who preceded De Soto, his eye seemed instantly to discern
the Governor. As he approached, the chief courteously arose, and
advanced a few steps to meet him. De Soto alighted from his horse, and
with Spanish courtesy embraced the chieftain, who, with great dignity,
addressed him in the following words:
"Mighty chief, I bid you welcome. I greet you as I would my brother.
It is needless to talk long. What I have to say can be said in a few
words. You shall know how willing I am to serve you. I am thankful for
the things you have sent me, chiefly because they were yours. I am now
ready to comply with your desires."
This interview, it is supposed, took place in the present county of
Montgomery, Alabama. The whole party then returned to the village, De
Soto and the chief walking arm in arm. A spacious house was assigned
to De Soto and his suite by the side of that occupied by the Cacique.
After a rest of two days in the village, enjoying the rather cold and
reserved, but abundant hospitality of the chief, the Spaniards
continued their march. The chief, either for his own pleasure or by
persuasion, was induced to accompany him. The most powerful horse in
the army was selected to bear his herculean frame; and yet it is said
that when the Cacique bestrode him his feet almost touched the ground.
De Soto had made him a present of a dress and mantle of rich scarlet
cloth Thus habited and mounted, with his towering plumes, he
attracted all eyes. The two chieftains rode side by side. Their route
led through the counties of Montgomery, Lowndes, and the southeastern
part of Dallas, until they came to a large town called Piache, upon
the Alabama river. This stream they passed on rafts of log and cane,
probably in the upper part of the county of Wilcox. The expedition
then turned in a southerly direction, following down the western bank
of the Alabama through Wilcox county.
The Indian chief continued proud and distant; was observed to be
frequently consulting with his principal men, and often dispatching
runners in different directions. De Soto was led to suspect that some
treachery was meditated. Two of the Spaniards, who had wandered a
little distance in the woods, disappeared, and were never heard of
again. It was suspected that they had been killed by the natives. The
Cacique being questioned upon the subject, angrily and contemptuously
replied:
"Why do you ask me about your people? Am I their keeper?"
These suspicions led De Soto to keep a close watch upon the chief.
This was done secretly, while still friendly relations were maintained
between them. It was more than probable that the chief was himself a
spy in the Spanish camp, and that he was treacherously gathering his
powerful armies at some favorable point where he could effectually
annihilate the Spaniards, and enrich himself with all their
possessions of armor and horses. It was therefore a matter of
prudence, almost a vital necessity, for De Soto to throw an invisible
guard around the chieftain, that all his movements might be narrowly
observed, and that he might not take to sudden flight. With him in
their hands as a hostage, the hostility of his warriors might,
perhaps, be effectually arrested.
They were now approaching the town of Mobila, which was the capital of
the Tuscaloosa kingdom. This town was probably situated at a place now
called Choctaw Bluff, on the north or western side of the Alabama
river, in the county of Clarke. At that point the Spaniards were at a
distance of about twenty-five miles above the confluence of the
Alabama and the Tombigbee, and about eighty-five miles from the bay of
Pensacola. The town was beautifully situated upon a spacious plain,
and consisted of eighty very large houses; each one of which, it was
stated, would accommodate a thousand men.
As they approached this important place, De Soto sent forward some
very reliable couriers, to observe if there were any indications of
conspiracy. Early in the morning of the eighteenth of October, 1540,
De Soto with the advance guard of his army, consisting of one hundred
footmen, all picked men, accompanied by the Cacique, entered the
streets of Mobila. Mr. Irving gives the following interesting account
of this important capital:
"This was the stronghold of the Cacique, where he and his
principal men resided. It stood in a fine plain, and was
surrounded by a high wall, formed of huge trunks of trees
driven into the ground, side by side, and wedged together.
These were crossed, within and without, by others, small and
longer, bound to them by bands made of split reeds and wild
vines. The whole was thickly plastered over with a kind of
mortar, made of clay and straw trampled together, which
filled up every chink and crevice of the wood-work, so that
it appeared as if smoothed with a trowel. Throughout its
whole circuit, the wall was pierced at the height of a man
with loopholes, whence arrows might be discharged at an
enemy, and at every fifty paces, it was surmounted by a
tower capable of holding seven or eight fighting men."
As De Soto and the chief, accompanied by the advance guard of the
Spanish army, and a numerous train of Indian warriors, approached the
walls, a large band of native soldiers, in compact martial array, and
as usual gorgeously decorated, emerged from one of the gates. They
were preceded by a musical band, playing upon Indian flutes, and were
followed by a group of dancing girls, remarkably graceful and
beautiful. As we have mentioned, De Soto, and the Cacique in his
scarlet uniform, rode side by side. Traversing the streets, the whole
band arrived in the central square. Here they alighted, and all the
horses were led outside the walls to be tethered and fed.
The chief then, through Juan Ortiz, the interpreter, pointed out to De
Soto one of the largest houses for the accommodation of himself and
suite. Another adjoining house was appropriated to the servants and
attendants. Cabins were also immediately reared just outside the walls
for the accommodation of the main body of the army.
De Soto was somewhat anxious in view of this arrangement. It was
effectually separating him from his soldiers, and was leaving the
Cacique entirely at liberty. Some words passed between the chief and
the Governor, which led to an angry reply on the part of the Cacique,
who turned upon his heel and retired to his own palace. The main body
of the army had not yet come up, and if the chief meditated
treachery, the moment was very favorable for an attack upon the
advance guard only.
Soon after the Cacique had left in an angry mood, one of the cavaliers
whom De Soto had sent forward to examine into the state of affairs,
entered with the announcement that many circumstances indicated a dark
and treacherous plot. He said that more than ten thousand warriors,
all evidently picked men, and thoroughly armed, were assembled in the
various houses. Not a child was to be found in the town, and scarcely
a woman, excepting the few dancing girls who had formed a part of the
escort.
The Governor was much alarmed by these tidings. He dispatched orders
to all the troops who were with him to be on the alert, and to hold
themselves in readiness to repel an assault. At the same time he sent
back a courier to inform Luis De Moscoso, who was master of the
Spanish camp, of the dangerous posture of affairs. Unfortunately,
relying upon the friendly spirit of the natives, he had allowed his
men to scatter widely from the camp, hunting and amusing themselves.
It was some time before they could be collected.
De Soto, anxious to avert a rupture, wished to get the person of the
Cacique in his power. They had been accustomed since they met to eat
together. As soon as the attendants of the Governor had prepared some
refreshments for him, he sent Juan Ortiz to invite the Cacique to join
him in the repast. The interpreter was not permitted to enter the
palace, but after a little delay, a messenger announced that the
Cacique would come pretty soon.
The Governor waited some time, and again sent Ortiz to repeat the
invitation. Again the interpreter returned with the same response.
After another interval of waiting, and the Cacique not appearing,
Ortiz was sent for the third time. Approaching the door of the palace,
he shouted out, in a voice sufficiently loud to be heard by all
within, "Tell the chief of Tuscaloosa to come forth. The food is upon
the table, and the Governor is waiting for him."
Immediately one of the principal attendants of the Cacique rushed out
in a towering passion, and exclaimed:
"Who are these robbers, these vagabonds, who keep calling to my chief
of Tuscaloosa, 'come out! come out!' with as little reverence as if he
were one of them? By the sun and moon, this insolence is no longer to
be borne! Let us cut them to pieces on the spot, and put an end to
their wickedness and tyranny!"
Uttering these words, he threw off his superb mantle of marten skins,
and seizing a bow from the hands of an attendant, drew an arrow to the
head, aiming at a group of Spaniards in the public square. But before
the arrow left the bow, a steel-clad cavalier, who had accompanied the
interpreter, with one thrust of his sword laid the Indian dead at his
feet. The son of the dead warrior, a vigorous young savage, sprang
forward and let fly upon the cavalier six or seven arrows, as fast as
he could draw them. But they all fell harmless from his armor. He then
seized a club and struck him three or four blows over the head with
such force that the blood gushed from beneath his casque.
All this was done in an instant, when the cavalier, recovering
from his surprise, with two sword-thrusts, laid the young warrior
dead in his blood by the side of his father. It seemed as though
instantaneously the war-whoop resounded from a thousand throats.
The concealed warriors, ten thousand in number, with hideous yells,
like swarming bees, rushed into the streets. De Soto had but two
hundred men to meet them. But these were all admirably armed, and most
of them protected by coats of mail. He immediately placed himself at
the head of his troops, and slowly retreating, fighting fiercely every
inch of the way, with his armored men facing the foe, succeeded in
withdrawing through the gate out upon the open plain, where his
horsemen could operate to better advantage. In the retreat five of the
Spaniards were killed and many severely wounded, De Soto being one of
the number.
The Indians came rushing out upon the plain in a tumultuous mass, with
yells of defiance and victory. But the dragoons soon regained their
horses, which had been tethered outside the walls, and whose bodies
were much protected from the arrows of the natives; and then, in a
terrific charge, one hundred steel-clad men, cutting to the right hand
and to the left, maddened by the treachery of which they had been the
victims, plunged into the densest masses of their foes, and every
sabre-blow was death to a half-naked Indian. The slaughter was awful.
Brave as the Indians were, they were thrown into a panic, and fled
precipitately into the town.
In the retreat from the town, about twenty of the Spaniards had been
cut off from their comrades, and had taken refuge in the house
assigned to the Governor. Here they valiantly defended themselves
against fearful odds. The bold storming of the place by the Spanish
troops rescued them from their perilous position. But now all the
warriors of both parties crowded together in the public square, fought
hand to hand with a ferocity which could not be surpassed. Though the
natives were far more numerous than their foes, and were equally brave
and strong, still the Spaniards had a vast superiority over them in
their bucklers, their impenetrable armor, and their long, keen sabres
of steel.
De Soto, conscious that the very existence of his army depended upon
the issue of the conflict, was ever in the thickest of the battle,
notwithstanding the severity of the wound from which he was suffering.
At length, to drive his foes from the protection of their houses, the
torch was applied in many places. The timber of which they were built
was dry almost as tinder. Soon the whole place was in flames, the
fiery billows surging to and fro like a furnace. All alike fled from
the conflagration. The horsemen were already upon the plain, and they
cut down the fugitive Indians mercilessly.
The sun was then sinking; Mobila was in ruins, and its flaming
dwellings formed the funeral pyre of thousands of the dead. The battle
had lasted nine hours. To the Spaniards it was one of the most
terrible calamities. Eighty-two of their number were slain. Nearly all
the rest were more or less severely wounded. Forty-five horses had
been shot--an irreparable loss which all the army deeply mourned.
In entering the city, they had piled their camp equipage against the
walls. This was all consumed, consisting of clothing, armor,
medicines, and all the pearls which they had collected. The disaster
to the natives was still more dreadful. It is estimated that six
thousand of their number perished by the sword or the flames. The fate
of the chieftain is not with certainty known. It is generally supposed
that he was slain and was consumed in the flames of his capital.
The situation of the Spanish army that night was distressing in the
highest degree. They were hungry, exhausted, dejected, and seventeen
hundred dangerous wounds demanded immediate attention. There was but
one surgeon of the expedition who survived, and he was a man of but
little skill.
De Soto forgot himself and his wound in devotion to the interests of
his men. Foraging parties were sent in all directions to obtain food
for the sufferers, and straw for bedding. Here the army was compelled
many days to remain to recruit from the awful disaster with which it
had been so suddenly overwhelmed.