Ferdinand De Soto, The Discoverer of the Mississippi
by John S. C. Abbott · English · Gutenberg #29172 · 478,216 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Ferdinand De Soto, The Discoverer of the Mississippi
Author: John S. C. Abbott
Release date: June 20, 2009 [eBook #29172]
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Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FERDINAND DE SOTO, THE DISCOVERER OF THE MISSISSIPPI ***
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FERDINAND DE SOTO,
THE
DISCOVERER OF THE MISSISSIPPI
BY
JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
NEW YORK:
DODD & MEAD, No. 762 BROADWAY.
1873.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
DODD & MEAD,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
WM. MCCREA & CO., Stereotypers, LANGE, LITTLE & HILLMAN,
Newburgh, N. Y. PRINTERS,
108 TO 114 WOOSTER STREET, N. Y.
_AMERICAN PIONEERS AND PATRIOTS._
FERDINAND DE SOTO.
THE
DISCOVERER OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
ILLUSTRATED.
NEW YORK: DODD & MEAD, No. 762 BROADWAY.
1873.
[Illustration]
PREFACE.
Mr. Theodore Irving, in his valuable history of the "Conquest of
Florida," speaking of the astonishing achievements of the Spanish
Cavaliers, in the dawn of the sixteenth century says:
"Of all the enterprises undertaken in this spirit of daring
adventure, none has surpassed, for hardihood and variety of
incident, that of the renowned Hernando de Soto, and his
band of cavaliers. It was poetry put in action. It was the
knight-errantry of the old world carried into the depths of
the American wilderness. Indeed the personal adventures, the
feats of individual prowess, the picturesque description of
steel-clad cavaliers, with lance and helm and prancing
steed, glittering through the wildernesses of Florida,
Georgia, Alabama, and the prairies of the Far West, would
seem to us mere fictions of romance, did they not come to us
recorded in matter of fact narratives of contemporaries, and
corroborated by minute and daily memoranda of
eye-witnesses."
These are the wild and wondrous adventures which I wish here to
record. I have spared no pains in obtaining the most accurate
information which the records of those days have transmitted to us.
It is as wrong to traduce the dead as the living. If one should be
careful not to write a line which dying he would wish to blot, he
should also endeavor to write of the departed in so candid and
paternal a spirit, while severely just to the truth of history, as to
be safe from reproach. One who is aiding to form public opinion
respecting another, who has left the world, should remember that he
may yet meet the departed in the spirit land. And he may perhaps be
greeted with the words, "Your condemnation was too severe. You did not
make due allowance for the times in which I lived. You have held up my
name to unmerited reproach."
Careful investigation has revealed De Soto to me as by no means so bad
a man as I had supposed him to have been. And I think that the candid
reader will admit that there was much, in his heroic but melancholy
career, which calls for charitable construction and sympathy.
The authorities upon which I have mainly relied for my statements, are
given in the body of the work. There is no country on the globe, whose
early history is so full of interest and instruction as our own. The
writer feels grateful to the press, in general, for the kindly spirit
in which it has spoken of the attempt, in this series, to interest the
popular reader in those remarkable incidents which have led to the
establishment of this majestic republic.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
_Childhood and Youth._
PAGE
Birthplace of Ferdinand De Soto.--Spanish Colony at Darien.--Don Pedro
de Avila, Governor of Darien.--Vasco Nuñez.--Famine.--Love in the
Spanish Castle.--Character of Isabella.--Embarrassment of De
Soto.--Isabella's Parting Counsel. 9
CHAPTER II.
_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. 21
CHAPTER III.
_Life at Darien._
Reinforcements from Spain.--Aid sent to Borrica.--Line of Defense
Chosen by the Natives.--Religion of the Buccaneers.--The Battle and
the Rout.--Strategy of Uracca.--Cruelty of Don Pedro.--The
Retreat.--Character of Uracca.--Embarrassment of Don Pedro.--Warning
of M. Codro.--Expedition of Pizarro.--Mission of M. Codro.--Letter of
De Soto to Isabella. 37
CHAPTER IV.
_Demoniac Reign._
Giles Gonzales.--Unsuccessful Contest of De Soto with Gonzales.--Bold
Reply of De Soto to the Governor.--Cruelty of Don Pedro to M.
Codro.--Assassination of Cordova.--New Expedition of Discovery.--Revenge
upon Valenzuela.--Reign of Don Pedro at Nicaragua.--Unwise Decision of
De Soto. 55
CHAPTER V.
_The Invasion of Peru._
The Kingdom of Peru.--Its Metropolis.--The Desperate Condition of
Pizarro.--Arrival of De Soto.--Character of the Spaniards.--Exploring
Tour of De Soto.--The Colony at San Miguel.--The General
Advance.--Second Exploration of De Soto.--Infamous Conduct of the
Pizarros. 72
CHAPTER VI.
_The Atrocities of Pizarro._
Fears of Pizarro.--Honorable Conduct of the Inca.--The March to
Caxamarca.--Hospitable Reception.--Perfidious Attack upon the
Inca.--His Capture and Imprisonment.--The Honor of De Soto.--The
Offered Ransom.--Treachery and Extortion of Pizarro. 90
CHAPTER VII.
_The Execution of the Inca, and Embarrassments of De Soto._
Pledges of Pizarro.--His Perfidy.--False Mission of De Soto.--Execution
of the Inca.--His Fortitude.--Indignation of De Soto.--Great
Embarrassments.--Extenuating Considerations.--Arrival of Almagro.--March
Towards the Capital. 107
CHAPTER VIII.
_De Soto Returns to Spain._
Dreadful Fate of Chalcukima.--His Fortitude.--Ignominy of Pizarro.--De
Soto's Advance upon Cuzco.--The Peruvian Highway.--Battle in the
Defile.--De Soto takes the Responsibility.--Capture of the Capital and
its Conflagration.--De Soto's Return to Spain.--His Reception
there.--Preparations for the Conquest of Florida. 126
CHAPTER IX.
_The Landing in Florida._
The Departure from Spain.--Arrival in Cuba.--Leonora and
Tobar.--Isabella Invested with the Regency.--Sad Life of
Isabella.--Sailing of the Expedition.--The Landing at Tampa
Bay.--Outrages of Narvaez.--Noble Spirit of Ucita.--Unsuccessful
Enterprises.--Disgrace and Return of Porcallo. 144
CHAPTER X.
_The March to Ochile._
The March Commenced.--The Swamps of Florida.--Passage of the
Morass.--Heroism of Sylvestre.--Message to Acuera.--His Heroic
Reply.--Fierce Hostility of the Indians.--Enter the Town of
Ocali.--Strange Incident.--Death of the Bloodhound.--Historical
Discrepancies.--Romantic Entrance to Ochile. 163
CHAPTER XI.
_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. 180
CHAPTER XII.
_Winter Quarters._
Incidents of the March.--Passage of the River.--Entering
Anhayea.--Exploring Expeditions.--De Soto's desire for Peace.--Capture
of Capafi.--His Escape.--Embarrassments of De Soto.--Letter of
Isabella.--Exploration of the Coast.--Discovery of the Bay of
Pensacola.--Testimony Respecting Cofachiqui.--The March Resumed. 199
CHAPTER XIII.
_Lost in the Wilderness._
Incidents at Achise.--Arrival at Cofa.--Friendly Reception by
Cofaqui.--The Armed Retinue.--Commission of Patofa.--Splendors of the
March.--Lost in the Wilderness.--Peril of the Army.--Friendly
Relations.--The Escape from the Wilderness.--They Reach the Frontiers
of Cofachiqui.--Dismissal of Patofa.--Wonderful Reception by the
Princess of Cofachiqui. 220
CHAPTER XIV.
_The Indian Princess._
Crossing the River.--Hospitable Reception.--Attempts to visit the
Queen Mother.--Suicide of the Prince.--Futile search for
Gold.--The Discovery of Pearls.--The Pearl Fishery.--The Princess
a Captive.--Held in Silken Chains.--Her Escape.--Location of
Cutifachiqui.--The March Resumed. 240
CHAPTER XV.
_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. 259
CHAPTER XVI.
_Days of Darkness._
The Melancholy Encampment.--The Fleet at Pensacola.--Singular Resolve
of De Soto.--Hostility of the Natives.--Beautiful Scenery.--Winter
Quarters on the Yazoo.--Feigned Friendship of the Cacique.--Trickery
of Juan Ortiz.--The Terrible Battle of Chickasaw.--Dreadful Loss of
the Spaniards. 276
CHAPTER XVII.
_The Discovery of the Mississippi._
The Fortress of Hostile Indians.--Its Capture.--The Disastrous
Conflict.--The Advance of the Army.--Discovery of the Mississippi
River.--Preparations for Crossing.--Extraordinary
Pageants.--Unjustifiable Attack.--The passage of the River.--Friendly
Reception by Casquin.--Extraordinary Religious Festival. 296
CHAPTER XVIII.
_Vagrant Wanderings._
Trickery of Casquin.--The March to Capaha.--The Battle and its
Results.--Friendly Relations with Capaha.--The Return Journey.--The
March Southward.--Salt Springs.--The Savages of Tula.--Their
Ferocity.--Anecdote.--Despondency of De Soto. 315
CHAPTER XIX.
_Death of De Soto._
Ascent of the Mississippi.--Revenge of Guachoya.--Sickness of
De Soto.--Affecting Leave-taking.--His Death and Burial.--The
March for Mexico.--Return to the Mississippi.--Descent of the
River.--Dispersion of the Expedition.--Death of Isabella. 334
CHAPTER I.
_Childhood and Youth._
Birthplace of Ferdinand De Soto.--Spanish Colony at Darien.--Don
Pedro de Avila, Governor of Darien.--Vasco Nuñez.--Famine.--Love
in the Spanish Castle.--Character of Isabella.--Embarrassment of
De Soto.--Isabella's Parting Counsel.
In the interior of Spain, about one hundred and thirty miles southwest
of Madrid, there is the small walled town of Xeres. It is remote from
all great routes of travel, and contains about nine thousand
inhabitants, living very frugally, and in a state of primitive
simplicity. There are several rude castles of the ancient nobility
here, and numerous gloomy, monastic institutions. In one of these
dilapidated castles, there was born, in the year 1500, a boy, who
received the name of Ferdinand de Soto. His parents were Spanish
nobles, perhaps the most haughty class of nobility which has ever
existed. It was, however, a decayed family, so impoverished as to find
it difficult to maintain the position of gentility. The parents were
not able to give their son a liberal education. Their rank did not
allow them to introduce him to any of the pursuits of industry; and
so far as can now be learned, the years of his early youth were spent
in idleness.
Ferdinand was an unusually handsome boy. He grew up tall, well formed,
and with remarkable muscular strength and agility. He greatly excelled
in fencing, horseback riding, and all those manly exercises which were
then deemed far more essential for a Spanish gentleman than literary
culture. He was fearless, energetic, self-reliant; and it was manifest
that he was endowed with mental powers of much native strength.
When quite a lad he attracted the attention of a wealthy Spanish
nobleman, Don Pedro de Avila, who sent him to one of the Spanish
universities, probably that of Saragossa, and maintained him there for
six years. Literary culture was not then in high repute; but it was
deemed a matter of very great moment that a nobleman of Spain should
excel in horsemanship, in fencing, and in wielding every weapon of
attack or defence.
Ferdinand became quite renowned for his lofty bearing, and for all
chivalric accomplishments. At the tournaments, and similar displays of
martial prowess then in vogue, he was prominent, exciting the envy of
competitive cavaliers, and winning the admiration of the ladies.
Don Pedro became very proud of his foster son, received him to his
family, and treated him as though he were his own child. The Spanish
court had at that time established a very important colony at the
province of Darien, on the Isthmus of Panama. This isthmus, connecting
North and South America, is about three hundred miles long and from
forty to sixty broad. A stupendous range of mountains runs along its
centre, apparently reared as an eternal barrier between the Atlantic
and Pacific oceans. From several of the summits of this ridge the
waters of the two oceans can at the same time be distinctly seen. Here
the Spanish court, in pursuit of its energetic but cruel conquest of
America, had established one of its most merciless colonies. There was
gold among the mountains. The natives had many golden ornaments. They
had no conception of the value of the precious ore in civilized lands.
Readily they would exchange quite large masses of gold for a few glass
beads. The great object of the Spaniards in the conquest of Darien was
to obtain gold. They inferred that if the ignorant natives, without
any acquaintance with the arts, had obtained so much, there must be
immense quantities which careful searching and skilful mining would
reveal.
The wanton cruelties practised by the Spaniards upon the unoffending
natives of these climes seem to have been as senseless as they were
fiendlike. It is often difficult to find any motive for their
atrocities. These crimes are thoroughly authenticated, and yet they
often seem like the outbursts of demoniac malignity. Anything like a
faithful recital of them would torture the sensibilities of our
readers almost beyond endurance. Mothers and maidens were hunted and
torn down by bloodhounds; infant children were cut in pieces, and
their quivering limbs thrown to the famished dogs.
The large wealth and the rank of Don Pedro de Avila gave him much
influence at the Spanish court. He succeeded in obtaining the
much-coveted appointment of Governor of Darien. His authority was
virtually absolute over the property, the liberty, and the lives of a
realm, whose extended limits were not distinctly defined.
Don Pedro occupied quite an imposing castle, his ancestral mansion, in
the vicinity of Badajoz. Here the poor boy Ferdinand, though descended
from families of the highest rank, was an entire dependent upon his
benefactor. The haughty Don Pedro treated him kindly. Still he
regarded him, in consequence of his poverty, almost as a favored
menial. He fed him, clothed him, patronized him.
It was in the year 1514 that Don Pedro entered upon his office of
Governor of Darien. The insatiate thirst for gold caused crowds to
flock to his banners. A large fleet was soon equipped, and more than
two thousand persons embarked at St. Lucar for the golden land. The
most of these were soldiers; men of sensuality, ferocity, and thirst
for plunder. Not a few noblemen joined the enterprise; some to add to
their already vast possessions, and others hoping to retrieve their
impoverished fortunes.
A considerable number of priests accompanied the expedition, and it is
very certain that some of these at least were actuated by a sincere
desire to do good to the natives, and to win them to the religion of
Jesus:--that religion which demands that we should do to others as we
would that others should do to us, and whose principles, the governor,
the nobles, and the soldiers, were ruthlessly trampling beneath their
feet. Don Pedro, when measured by the standard of Christianity, was
proud, perfidious and tyrannical. The course he pursued upon his
arrival in the country was impolitic and almost insane.
His predecessor in the governorship was Vasco Nuñez. He had been on
the whole a prudent, able and comparatively merciful governor. He had
entered into trade with the natives, and had so far secured their good
will as to induce them to bring in an ample supply of provisions for
his colony. He had sent out Indian explorers, with careful
instructions to search the gold regions among the mountains. Don
Pedro, upon assuming the reins of government, became very jealous of
the popularity of Nuñez, whom he supplanted. His enmity soon became so
implacable that, without any cause, he accused him of treason and
ordered him to be decapitated. The sentence was executed in the public
square of Acla. Don Pedro himself gazed on the cruel spectacle
concealed in a neighboring house. He seemed ashamed to meet the
reproachful eye of his victim, as with an axe his head was cut off
upon a block.
All friendly relations with the Indians were speedily terminated. They
were robbed of their gold, of their provisions, and their persons were
outraged in the most cruel manner. The natives, terror-stricken, fled
from the vicinity of the colony, and suddenly the Spaniards found all
their supplies of provisions cut off. More than two thousand were
crowded into a narrow space on the shores of the gulf, with no
possibility of obtaining food. They were entirely unprepared for any
farming operations, having neither agricultural tools nor seed.
Neither if they had them could they wait for the slow advent of the
harvest. Famine commenced its reign, and with famine, its invariable
attendant, pestilence. In less than six months, of all the glittering
hosts, which with music and banners had landed upon the isthmus,
expecting soon to return to Europe with their ships freighted with
gold, but a few hundred were found alive, and they were haggard and in
rags.
The Spaniards had robbed the Indians of their golden trinkets, but
these trinkets could not be eaten and they would purchase no food.
They were as worthless as pebbles picked from the beach. Often lumps
of gold, or jewels of inestimable value, were offered by one starving
wretch to another for a piece of mouldy bread. The colony would have
become entirely extinct, but for the opportune arrival of vessels from
Spain with provisions. Don Pedro had sent out one or two expeditions
of half-famished men to seize the rice, Indian corn, and other food,
wherever such food could be found.
The natives had sufficient intelligence to perceive that the colonists
were fast wasting away. The Indians were gentle and amiable in
character, and naturally timid; with no taste for the ferocities
of war. But emboldened by the miseries of the colonies, and beginning
to despise their weakness, they fell upon the foraging parties with
great courage and drove them back ignominiously to the coast.
The arrival of the ships to which we have referred with provisions
and reinforcements, alone saved the colony from utter extinction.
Don Pedro, after having been in the colony five years, returned to
Spain to obtain new acquisitions of strength in men and means for the
prosecution of ever-enlarging plans of wealth and ambition. North and
south of the narrow peninsula were the two majestic continents of
North and South America. They both invited incursions, where nations
could be overthrown, empires established, fame won, and where
mountains of gold might yet be found.
It seems that De Soto had made the castle of Don Pedro, near Badajoz,
his home during the absence of the governor. There all his wants had
been provided for through the charitable munificence of his patron. He
probably had spent his term time at the university. He was now
nineteen years of age, and seemed to have attained the full maturity
of his physical system, and had developed into a remarkably elegant
young man.
The family of Don Pedro had apparently remained at the castle. His
second daughter, Isabella, was a very beautiful girl in her sixteenth
year. She had already been presented at the resplendent court of
Spain, where she had attracted great admiration. Rich, beautiful and
of illustrious birth, many noblemen had sought her hand, and among the
rest, one of the princes of the blood royal. But Isabella and De
Soto, much thrown together in the paternal castle, had very naturally
fallen in love with each other.
The haughty governor was one day exceedingly astounded and enraged,
that De Soto had the audacity to solicit the hand of his daughter in
marriage. In the most contemptuous and resentful manner, he repelled
the proposition as an insult. De Soto was keenly wounded. He was
himself a man of noble birth. He had no superior among all the young
noblemen around him, in any chivalric accomplishment. The only thing
wanting was money. Don Pedro loved his daughter, was proud of her
beauty and celebrity, and was fully aware that she had a very decided
will of her own.
After the lapse of a few days, the governor was not a little alarmed
by a statement, which the governess of the young lady ventured to make
to him. She assured him that Isabella had given her whole heart to De
Soto, and that she had declared it to be her unalterable resolve to
retire to a convent, rather than to become the wife of any other
person. Don Pedro was almost frantic with rage. As totally devoid of
moral principle as he was of human feelings, he took measures to have
De Soto assassinated. Such is the uncontradicted testimony of
contemporary historians. But every day revealed to him more clearly
the strength of Isabella's attachment for De Soto, and the
inflexibility of her will. He became seriously alarmed, not only from
the apprehension that if her wishes were thwarted, no earthly power
could prevent her from burying herself in a convent, but he even
feared that if De Soto were to be assassinated, she would, by
self-sacrifice, follow him to the world of spirits. This caused him to
feign partial reconciliation, and to revolve in his mind more cautious
plans for his removal.
He decided to take De Soto back with him to Darien. The historians of
those days represent that it was his intention to expose his young
protégé to such perils in wild adventures in the New World, as would
almost certainly secure his death. De Soto himself, proud though poor,
was tortured by the contemptuous treatment which he received, even
from the menials in the castle, who were aware of his rejection by
their proud lord. He therefore eagerly availed himself of the
invitation of Don Pedro to join in a new expedition which he was
fitting out for Darien.
He resolved, at whatever sacrifice, to be rich. The acquisition of
gold, and the accumulation of fame, became the great objects of his
idolatry. With these he could not only again claim the hand of
Isabella, but the haughty Don Pedro would eagerly seek the alliance
of a man of wealth and renown. Thousands of adventurers were then
crowding to the shores of the New World, lured by the accounts of the
boundless wealth which it was said could there be found, and inspired
by the passion which then pervaded Christendom, of obtaining celebrity
by the performance of chivalric deeds.
Many had returned greatly enriched by the plunder of provinces. The
names of Pizarro and Cortez had been borne on the wings of renown
through all the countries of Europe, exciting in all honorable minds
disgust, in view of their perfidy and cruelty, and inspiring others
with emotions of admiration, in contemplation of their heroic
adventures.
De Soto was greatly embarrassed by his poverty. Both his parents were
dead. He was friendless; and it was quite impossible for him to
provide himself with an outfit suitable to the condition of a Spanish
grandee. The insulting treatment he had received from Don Pedro
rendered it impossible for him to approach that haughty man as a
suppliant for aid. But Don Pedro did not dare to leave De Soto behind
him. The family were to remain in the ancestral home. And it was very
certain that, Don Pedro being absent, ere long he would hear of the
elopement of Ferdinand and Isabella. Thus influenced, he offered De
Soto a free passage to Darien, a captain's commission with a suitable
outfit, and pledged himself that he should have ample opportunity of
acquiring wealth and distinction, in an expedition he was even then
organizing for the conquest of Peru. As Don Pedro made these overtures
to the young man, with apparently the greatest cordiality, assuming
that De Soto, by embarking in the all-important enterprise, would
confer a favor rather than receive one, the offer was eagerly
accepted.
Don Pedro did everything in his power to prevent the two lovers from
having any private interview before the expedition sailed. But the
ingenuity of love as usual triumphed over that of avarice. Isabella
and De Soto met, and solemnly pledged constancy to each other. It
seems that Isabella thoroughly understood the character of her father,
and knew that he would shrink from no crime in the accomplishment of
his purposes. As she took her final leave of her lover, she said to
him, very solemnly and impressively,
"Ferdinand, remember that one treacherous friend is more dangerous
than a thousand avowed enemies."
CHAPTER II.
_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:
"Señor 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.
CHAPTER III.
_Life at Darien._
Reinforcements from Spain.--Aid sent to Borrica.--Line of Defense
Chosen by the Natives.--Religion of the Buccaneers.--The Battle
and the Rout.--Strategy of racca.--Cruelty of Don Pedro.--The
Retreat.--Character of Uracca.--Embarrassment of Don
Pedro.--Warning of M. Codro.--Expedition of Pizarro.--Mission
of M. Codro.--Letter of De Soto to Isabella.
While governor Don Pedro was awaiting with intense anxiety the receipt
of intelligence from Borrica, a ship arrived from Spain bringing three
or four hundred adventurers, all of whom were eager for any military
expedition which would open to them an opportunity for plunder. One
hundred and fifty of these were regular soldiers, well taught in the
dreadful trade of war. Don Pedro took these fresh troops and one
hundred and fifty volunteers; and set out with the utmost expedition
for Borrica. His impetuous nature was inspired with zeal to retrieve
the disgrace which had befallen the Spanish arms. He took with him
several pieces of ordnance,--guns with which the Indians thus far had
no acquaintance.
Upon arriving at Borrica he very earnestly harangued his troops,
reminding them of the ancient renown of the Spanish soldiers, and
stimulating their cupidity by the assurance that the kingdom of
Veragua, over which Uracca reigned, was full of gold; and that all
that was now requisite for the conquest of the country and the
accumulation of princely wealth, was a display of the bravery ever
characteristic of Spanish troops.
There was a deep and rapid river, the Arva, rushing down from the
mountains, which it was necessary for the Spaniards to cross in their
renewed invasion of Veragua. On the northern banks of this stream
Uracca stationed his troops, selecting this spot with much skill as
his main line of defence. He however posted an advanced guard some
miles south of the stream in ground broken by hills, rocks and
ravines, through which the Spaniards would be compelled to pass, and
where their cavalry could be of very little avail.
By great effort Don Pedro had collected an army of about five hundred
men. Rapidly marching, he soon reached the spot of broken ground where
the native troops were stationed awaiting their approach.
It seems almost incomprehensible that this band of thieves and
murderers, who, without the slightest excuse or provocation, were
invading the territory of the peaceful natives, carrying to their
homes death and woe, that they might acquire fame for military
exploits and return laden with plunder, could have looked to God for
his blessing upon their infamous expedition. But so it was. And still
more strange to say, they did not apparently engage in these religious
services with any consciousness of hypocrisy. The thoughtful mind is
bewildered in contemplating such developments of the human heart.
Previous to the attack the whole army was drawn up for prayers, which
were solemnly offered by the ecclesiastics who always accompanied
these expeditions. Then every soldier attended the confessional and
received absolution. Thus he felt assured that, should he fall in the
battle, he would be immediately translated to the realms of the blest.
Thus inspired by military zeal and religious fanaticism, the Spaniards
rushed upon the natives in a very impetuous assault. We are happy to
record that the natives stood nobly on the defence. They met their
assailants with such a shower of arrows and javelins that the
Spaniards were first arrested in their march, then driven back, then
utterly routed and put to flight. In that broken ground where the
cavalry could not be brought into action, where every native warrior
stood behind a tree or a rock, and where the natives did not commence
the action till the Spaniards were within half bow shot of them,
arrows and javelins were even more potent weapons of war than the
clumsy muskets then in use.
Upon the open field the arrows of the natives were quite impotent. A
bullet could strike the heart at twice or three times the distance at
which an arrow could be thrown. The Spaniards, hotly pursued,
retreated from this broken ground several miles back into the open
plain. Many were slain. Here the rout was arrested by the cavalry and
the discharges from the field-pieces, which broke the Indian ranks.
The natives, however, boldly held their ground, and the Spaniards,
disheartened and mortified by their discomfiture, encamped upon the
plain. It was very evident that God had not listened to their prayers.
For several days they remained in a state of uncertainty. For five
hundred Spaniards to retreat before eight hundred natives, would
inflict a stigma upon their army which could never be effaced. They
dared not again attack the natives who were flushed with victory in
their stronghold. They were well aware that the band of warriors
before them was but the advanced guard of the great army of Uracca.
These eight hundred natives were led by one of Uracca's brothers. Even
should these Indians be attacked and repulsed, they had only to
retreat a few miles, cross the river Arva in their canoes, and on the
northern banks join the formidable army of twenty thousand men under
their redoubtable chief, who had already displayed military abilities
which compelled the Spaniards to regard him with dread.
Affairs were in this position when Uracca adopted a stratagem which
completely deceived the Spaniards and inflicted upon them very serious
loss. He caused several of his warriors to be taken captive. When
closely questioned by Don Pedro where gold was to be found, and
threatened with torture if they refused the information, they with
great apparent reluctance directed their captors to a spot, at the
distance of but a few leagues, where the precious metal could be
obtained in great abundance. These unlettered savages executed their
artifice with skill which would have done honor even to European
diplomatists.
Don Pedro immediately selected a company of forty of his most reliable
men and sent them to the designated spot. Here they were surrounded by
Indian warriors in ambush, and the whole party, with the exception of
three, put to death. The three who escaped succeeded in reaching the
Spanish camp with tidings of the disaster. Don Pedro in his rage
ordered his captives to be torn to pieces, by the bloodhounds. They
were thrown naked to the dogs. The Spaniards looked on complacently,
as the merciless beasts, with bloody fangs, tore them limb from limb,
devouring their quivering flesh. The natives bore this awful
punishment with fortitude and heroism, which elicited the admiration
of their foes. With their last breath they exulted that they were
permitted to die in defence of their country.
The expedition of Don Pedro had thus far proved an utter failure. He
had already lost one-fourth of his army through the prowess of the
natives. The prospect before him was dark in the extreme. His troops
were thoroughly discouraged, and the difficulties still to be
encountered seemed absolutely insurmountable. Humiliated as never
before, the proud Don Pedro was compelled to order a retreat. He
returned to Panama, where, as we have mentioned, he had removed his
seat of government from Darien. Panama was north of Darien, or rather
west, as the isthmus there runs east and west. Its seaport was on the
Pacific, not the Atlantic coast.
Uracca, having thus rescued his country from the invaders, did not
pursue the retreating Spaniards. He probably in this course acted
wisely. Could Don Pedro have drawn his enemies into the open field, he
could undoubtedly have cut down nearly their whole army with grape
shot, musketry, and charges by his strongly mounted steel-clad
cavaliers. A panic had however pervaded the Spanish camp. They were in
constant apprehension of pursuit. Even when they had reached Panama,
they were day after day in intense apprehension of the approach of
their outnumbering foes, by whose valor they had already been
discomfited, and so greatly disgraced.
"When the Spaniards looked out towards the mountains and the
plains," writes the Spanish historian Herrera, "the boughs of
trees and the very grass, which grew high in the savannas,
appeared to their excited imagination to be armed with
Indians. And when they turned their eyes towards the sea,
they fancied that it was covered with canoes of their
exasperated foemen."
Uracca must have been in all respects an extraordinary man. We have
the record of his deeds only from the pen of his enemies. And yet
according to their testimony, he, a pagan, manifested far more of the
spirit of Christ than did his Christian opponents. In the war which he
was then waging, there can be no question whatever that the wrong was
inexcusably and outrageously on the side of Don Pedro. We cannot learn
that Uracca engaged in any aggressive movements against the Spaniards
whatever. He remained content with expelling the merciless intruders
from his country. Even the fiendlike barbarism of the Spaniards could
not provoke him to retaliatory cruelty. The brutal soldiery of Spain
paid no respect whatever to the wives and daughters of the natives,
even to those of the highest chieftains.
On one occasion a Spanish lady, Donna Clara Albitez, fell into the
hands of Uracca. He treated her with as much delicacy and tenderness
as if she had been his own daughter or mother, and availed himself of
the first opportunity of restoring her to her friends.
Though De Soto was one of the bravest of his cavaliers, and was so
skilful as an officer that his services were almost indispensable to
Don Pedro, yet the governor was anxious to get rid of him. It is
probable that he felt somewhat condemned by the undeniable virtues of
De Soto; for the most of men can feel the power of high moral
principle as witnessed in others. De Soto, intensely proud, was not at
all disposed to play the sycophant before his patron. He had already
exasperated him by his refusal to execute orders which he deemed
dishonorable. And worst of all, by winning the love of Isabella, he
had thwarted one of the most ambitious of Don Pedro's plans; he having
contemplated her alliance with one of the most illustrious families of
the Spanish nobility.
Don Pedro did not dare to send De Soto to the scaffold or to order him
to be shot. He had already braved public opinion by the outrageous
execution of Vasco Nuñez, without a shadow of law or justice, and had
drawn down upon himself an avalanche of condemnation from the highest
dignitaries of both church and state. He was trembling through fear
that the Spanish government might call him to account for this
tyrannic act. Thus situated, it was highly impolitic to send De Soto,
who was greatly revered and admired by the army, to the block. He
therefore still sought, though with somewhat waning zeal, to secure
the death of De Soto on the field of battle. De Soto could not fail to
perceive that Don Pedro was not his friend. Still, being a magnanimous
man himself, he could not suspect the governor of being guilty of such
treachery as to be plotting his death.
When the little army of Spaniards was beleaguered at Borrica, and De
Soto with his cavalry was scouring the adjacent country on foraging
expeditions, he chanced to rescue from captivity M. Codro, an Italian
philosopher, who had accompanied the Spaniards to Darien. In the
pursuit of science, he had joined the forty men who, under the command
of Herman Ponce, had been sent as a reinforcement to Borrica. While at
some distance from the camp on a botanical excursion, he was taken
captive by the natives, and would have been put to death but for the
timely rescue by De Soto.
M. Codro was an astrologer. In that superstitious age he was supposed
by others, and probably himself supposed, that by certain occult arts
he was able to predict future events. Six months after the return of
the Spaniards from their disastrous expedition against Uracca, this
singular man sought an interview with De Soto, and said to him:
"A good action deserves better reward than verbal acknowledgment.
While it was not in my power to make any suitable recompense to you
for saving my life, I did not attempt to offer you any. But the time
has now come when I can give you some substantial evidence of my
gratitude. I can now inform you that your life is now in no less
danger than mine was when you rescued me from the Indians."
De Soto replied: "My good friend, though I do not profess to be a
thorough believer in your prophetic art, I am no less thankful for
your kind intentions. And in this case, I am free to confess that your
information, from whatever source derived, is confirmed in a measure
by my own observations."
"Ferdinand De Soto," said the astrologer with great deliberation and
solemnity of manner, "I think I can read the page of _your_ destiny,
even without such light as the stars can shed upon it. Be assured that
the warning I give you does not come from an unearthly source. But if
any supernatural confirmation of my words were needed, even on that
score you might be satisfied. While comparing your horoscope with that
of my departed friend Vasco Nuñez, I have observed some resemblances
in your lives and fortunes, which you, with all your incredulity, must
allow to be remarkable. Nuñez and you were both born in the same town;
were both members of noble but impoverished families; both sought to
ally yourselves with the family of Don Pedro, and both thus incurred
his deadly resentment."
"These coincidences are certainly remarkable," replied De Soto; "but
what other similarities do you find in the destinies of Nuñez and
myself?"
"You are a brave man," replied M. Codro, "and you are too skeptical to
be much disturbed by the prognostications of evil. I may therefore
venture to tell you that according to my calculations, you will be in
one important event of your life more happy than Vasco Nuñez. It seems
to be indicated by the superior intelligences, that your death will
not be in the ordinary course of nature; but I find likewise that the
term of your life will be equal to that which Nuñez attained. When I
consider your present circumstances, this appears to me to be the most
improbable part of the prediction."
Nuñez was forty-two years old at the time of his death. This gave De
Soto the promise of nearly twenty years more of life. Reverently he
replied, "I am in the hands of God. I rely with humble confidence on
his protection."
"In that you do well," rejoined M. Codro. "Still it is your duty to
use such human means as may be required to defend yourself against
open violence or fraudful malice."
De Soto thanked the astrologer for the caution he had given him, and
as he reflected upon it, saw that it was indeed necessary to be
constantly on his guard. As time passed on Don Pedro became more
undisguised in his hostility to De Soto. Ferdinand and Isabella
exerted all their ingenuity to correspond with each other. Don Pedro
had been equally vigilant in his endeavors to intercept their letters;
and so effectual were the plans which he adopted, that for five years,
while the lovers remained perfectly faithful to each other, not a
token of remembrance passed between them.
These were weary years to De Soto. He was bitterly disappointed in all
his expectations. There was no glory to be obtained even in victory,
in riding rough-shod over the poor natives. And thus far, instead of
victory attending the Spanish arms, defeat and disgrace had been their
doom. Moreover, he was astonished and heartily ashamed when he saw the
measures which his countrymen had adopted to enrich themselves. They
were highway robbers of the most malignant type. They not only
slaughtered the victims whom they robbed, but fired their dwellings,
trampled down their harvests and massacred their wives and children.
The most extravagant tales had been circulated through Europe
respecting the wealth of the New World. It was said that masses of
pure gold could be gathered like pebble stones from the banks of the
rivers, and that gems of priceless value were to be found in the
ravines. De Soto had been now five years on the isthmus of Darien, and
had acquired neither fame nor fortune, and there was nothing in the
prospect of the future to excite enthusiasm or even hope.
There was quite a remarkable man, made so by subsequent events, under
the command of Don Pedro. His name was Francisco Pizarro. He was a man
of obscure birth and of very limited education, save only in the
material art of war. He could neither read nor write, and was thus
intellectually hardly the equal of some of the most intelligent of the
natives. We have briefly alluded to him as entrusted with the command
of one portion of the army in the inglorious expedition against
Uracca. De Soto had very little respect for the man, and was not at
all disposed as a subordinate officer to look to him for counsel. Don
Pedro, however, seems to have formed a high opinion of the military
abilities of Pizarro. For notwithstanding his ignominious defeat and
retreat from Veragua, he now appointed him as the leader of an
expedition, consisting of one hundred and thirty men, to explore the
western coast of the isthmus by cruising along the Pacific Ocean.
Pizarro set sail from Panama on the fourteenth of November, 1524, in
one small vessel. It was intended that another vessel should soon
follow to render such assistance as might be necessary. De Soto was
urged to become one of this party; but probably from dislike of
Pizarro, refused to place himself under his command.
The vessel, which was soon joined by its consort under Almagro,
coasted slowly along in a northerly direction, running in at every
bay, and landing whenever they approached a flourishing Indian
village, plundering the natives and maltreating them in every shameful
way. At length they aroused such a spirit of desperation on the part
of the natives, that they fell upon the buccaneers with resistless
ferocity. Two-thirds of the miscreants were slain. Pizarro barely
escaped with his life, having received severe wounds and being borne
to his ship in a state of insensibility.
While Pizarro was absent on this ill-fated expedition, a new trouble
befell Don Pedro. Las Casas, a devoted Christian missionary, whose
indignation was roused to the highest pitch by the atrocities
perpetrated upon the Indians, reported the inhuman conduct of Don
Pedro to the Spanish government. The King appointed Peter de Los Rios
to succeed him. The new governor was to proceed immediately to Panama
and bring the degraded official to trial, and, if found guilty, to
punishment. The governor of a Spanish colony in those days was
absolute. Don Pedro had cut off the head of his predecessor, though
that predecessor was one of the best of men. He now trembled in
apprehension of the loss of his own head. Conscious of his deserts, he
was terror-stricken.
About four or five hundred miles north of Panama there was the
magnificent province of Nicaragua. The isthmus is here about one
hundred and fifty miles in breadth, and the province being about two
hundred miles in a line from north to south, extended from the
Atlantic to the Pacific shores. Don Pedro was popular with his brutal
soldiery, since he allowed them unlimited license and plunder. He
resolved, surrounded by them, to take refuge in Nicaragua.
Nevertheless, to render himself as secure as possible, he decided to
send an agent to plead his cause at the Spanish court.
Among those rude, unprincipled adventurers, men of violence and blood,
it was very difficult to find a suitable person. At length he fixed
with much hesitation upon M. Codro, the astrologer. He was a
simple-minded, good man; learned, though very artless. M. Codro was
strongly attached to De Soto, the preserver of his life. As we have
seen, he was well aware of the peril to which his benefactor was
hourly exposed from the malignity of the governor. Gladly therefore he
accepted the mission, as he hoped it would afford him an opportunity
of conferring some favor upon his imperilled friend.
Don Pedro had adopted the most rigorous measures to prevent any
communication between the colony and Spain, which was not subjected to
his inspection. He was mainly influenced to this course that he might
prevent the interchange of any messages whatever between De Soto and
Isabella. The most severe penalties were denounced against all persons
who should convey any writing across the seas, excepting through the
regular mails. But the grateful M. Codro declared himself ready to run
all risks in carrying a letter from De Soto to Isabella. Though De
Soto at first hesitated to expose his friend to such hazard, his
intense desire to open some communication with Isabella, at length
induced him to accept the generous offer.
As we have mentioned, for five years not one word had passed between
the lovers. It is said that the following is a literal translation of
the letter which De Soto wrote. We cannot be certain of its
authenticity, but it bears internal evidence of genuineness, and a
manuscript copy is in the library of a Spanish gentleman who has spent
his life in collecting documents in reference to the past history of
his country:
"MOST DEARLY BELOVED ISABELLA:
"For the first time within five years, I write to you with
some assurance that you will receive my letter. Many times
have I written before; but how could I write freely when I
had reason to fear that other eyes might peruse those fond
expressions which your goodness and condescension alone
could pardon? But what reason have I to hope that you can
still look with favorable regard on my unworthiness? My
mature judgment teaches me that this dream of my youth,
which I have so long cherished, is not presumption merely,
but madness.
"When I consider your many perfections, and compare them
with my own little deserving, I feel that I ought to
despair, even if I could empty into your lap the treasure of
a thousand kingdoms. How then can I lift my eyes to you when
I have nothing to offer but the tribute of an affection
which time cannot change, and which must still live when my
last hope has departed.
"O Isabella! the expectation which brought me to this land
has not been fulfilled. I can gather no gold, except by such
means as my honor, my conscience and yourself must condemn.
Though your nobleness may pity one on whom fortune has
disdained to smile, I feel that your relations are justified
in claiming for you an alliance with exalted rank and
affluence; and I love you far too well to regard my own
happiness more than your welfare. If, therefore, in your
extreme youth you have made a promise which you now regret,
as far as it is in my power to absolve you from that
engagement, you are released. On my side, the obligation is
sacred and eternal. It is not likely that I shall ever
return to my country. While I am banished from your
presence, all countries are alike to me.
"The person who brings you this exposes himself to great
danger in his desire to serve me. I entreat you to use such
precautions as his safety may require. If your goodness
should vouchsafe any message to me, he will deliver it, and
you may have perfect confidence in his fidelity. Pardon my
boldness in supposing it possible that I still have a place
in your remembrance. Though you may now think of me with
indifference or dislike, do not censure me too severely for
calling myself unchangeably and devotedly, Yours, DE SOTO."
CHAPTER IV.
_Demoniac Reign._
Giles Gonzales.--Unsuccessful Contest of De Soto with
Gonzales.--Bold Reply of De Soto to the Governor.--Cruelty
of Don Pedro to M. Codro.--Assassination of Cordova.--New
Expedition of Discovery.--Revenge upon Valenzuela.--Reign of
Don Pedro at Nicaragua.--Unwise Decision of De Soto.
It was supposed at that time that there must be a strait somewhere
north of Panama across the narrow isthmus, which would connect the
waters of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Several expeditions had
been fitted out in search of this all-important passage. Almost
invariably a company of priests joined these expeditions, who exerted
all their energies to convert the Indians to nominal Christianity. A
fanatic adventurer by the name of Giles Gonzales, acquired much
celebrity for his success in inducing the natives to accept the
Christian faith and to acknowledge fealty to the king of Spain. He was
at the head of one hundred steel-clad warriors. His mode of
persuasion, though unique, was very potent. When he approached the
seat of the chief of Nicaragua, he sent a courier to him with the
following message:
"I am coming as a friend to teach you the only true religion, and to
persuade you to recognize the most powerful monarch on the globe. If
you refuse to yield to my teachings, you must prepare for battle, and
I challenge you to meet me in the field."
The gentle and peace-loving natives contemplated with consternation
these fierce Spaniards mounted on powerful war horses, animals which
they had never before seen, and glittering in coats of mail. They had
no religious creed to which they adhered with any tenacity. The
Nicaraguan chief unhesitatingly expressed his readiness to accept the
new faith, and in token of friendship, sent Gonzales a quantity of
gold, equal it is said in value to seventy-five thousand dollars of
our money. The Spanish historian Herrera, whose record is generally
deemed in the main accurate, says that the chief, his family, and nine
thousand of his subjects, were baptized and became Christians.
Influenced by this example, and by the glowing representations of the
rewards which were sure to follow the acceptance of the Christian
faith, more than thirty-six thousand of the natives were baptized
within the space of half a year. The baptismal fees charged by
Gonzales amounted to over four hundred thousand dollars.
While Gonzales was engaged on his own responsibility in this career of
spiritual conquest, with its rich pecuniary accompaniment, Don Pedro
sent two of his generals, Ferdinand de Cordova and Ferdinand De Soto,
to explore Nicaragua and take possession of it in his name. He assumed
that Gonzales, acting without authority, was engaged in a treasonable
movement. The two parties soon came into collision.
De Soto, with a party of fifty men, twenty of them being well mounted
cavaliers, encamped at a small village called Torebo. Gonzales was in
the near vicinity with a little army of three hundred men, two hundred
of whom were Indians. In the darkness of the night, Gonzales fell upon
De Soto, and outnumbering him six to one, either killed or took
captive all the thirty footmen; while the cavaliers, on their horses,
cut their way through and escaped. Gonzales lost fifty of his best men
in the conflict, and was so impressed with the military vigor of De
Soto, that he was not at all disposed again to meet him on the field
of battle. He therefore retired to a distant part of the province,
where he vigorously engaged in the work of converting the natives,
never forgetting his baptismal fee.
De Soto and Cordova established themselves in a new town which they
called Grenada. Here they erected a church, several dwelling houses,
and barracks for the soldiers. They also surrounded the village with
a trench and earthworks, as protection from any sudden assault.
Gonzales was a fugitive from justice, having assassinated an officer
sent by Hernando Cortes to arrest him.
Cordova was a mild and humane man. Under his sway the Indians were
prosperous and happy. Two flourishing towns grew up rapidly quite near
each other, Leon and Grenada. The climate was delightful, the soil
fertile, the means of living abundant. Many of the inhabitants of
Panama emigrated to this more favored region.
De Soto, leaving Cordova in command of Nicaragua, returned to Panama
to report proceedings to Don Pedro. It was not till then that he
learned, to his extreme regret, that the Governor had selected
Nicaragua as a place for his future abode. He knew that the presence
of the tyrannical governor could only prove disastrous to the
flourishing colony, and ruinous to the happiness of the natives. The
gloom with which the contemplation oppressed his mind spread over his
speaking countenance. The eagle eye of the suspicious governor
immediately detected these indications of discontent. With an air of
deference, but in a tone of mockery, he said:
"I judge from your appearance, captain, that my Nicaraguan enterprise
does not meet with your cordial approbation."
De Soto boldly, and with great deliberation of words, replied:
"Governor Don Pedro, I confess that I feel but little interested in
any of your movements or intentions, except when they encroach upon
the rights of others. Nicaragua is at this time well governed by
Ferdinand de Cordova. The change you propose to make, is to be
deprecated as one of the greatest misfortunes that could befall not
only the Indian inhabitants of that district, but our own countrymen
likewise, who have flocked thither to escape from your jurisdiction."
The countenance of Don Pedro became pallid with rage. Struggling,
however, to suppress the unavailing outburst of his passion, he said,
with a malignant smile:
"I thank you, Captain De Soto, for giving me this opportunity which I
have so long desired. Were I to permit such insolence to go
unpunished, my authority in this colony would soon be at an end."
"It is at an end," replied De Soto. "You must be aware that your
successor, De Los Rios, is now on his way to Panama."
"I do not choose," replied Don Pedro, "to debate this matter with you.
I still claim the right to command you as your superior military
officer. I now command you to hold yourself and your company in
readiness to march. When we arrive at Leon, I promise you that full
justice shall be done to your friend De Cordova, and to yourself."
De Soto fully comprehended the significance of these threats. He wrote
immediately to Cordova, urging him to be on his guard. The inhabitants
of Leon and Grenada, learning of the intention of Don Pedro,--to take
the government into his own hands,--entreated De Cordova to resist the
tyrant, promising him their unanimous and energetic support. But De
Cordova declined these overtures, saying, that all the authority to
which he was legitimately entitled was derived from Don Pedro, and
that it was his duty to obey him as his superior officer, until he
should be deposed by the Spanish crown.
Just before Don Pedro, with his suite, left Panama for Nicaragua, M.
Codro returned from Spain. He brought dispatches to the governor, and
also secretly a letter from Isabella to De Soto. The spies of the
governor, in his castle in Spain, watched every movement of M. Codro.
The simple minded man had very little skill in the arts of duplicity.
These spies reported to Don Pedro that M. Codro had held a secret
interview with Isabella, and had frankly stated that he was entrusted
with a private message to her. Don Pedro knew that such a message
could have gone only from De Soto; and that unquestionably M. Codro
had brought back from his daughter a response. We may remark in
passing, that the letter from Isabella to De Soto informed him of the
inflexible fidelity of Isabella, and filled the heart of De Soto with
joy.
The malignant nature of Don Pedro was roused by these suspicions to
intensity of action, and he resolved upon direful revenge. As the new
governor was hourly expected, he could not venture upon any open act
of assassination or violence, for he knew that in that case summary
punishment would be his doom. Calling M. Codro before him, he assumed
his blandest smile, thanked the artless philosopher for the services
he had rendered him in Spain, and said that he wished to entrust him
with the management of a mineralogical survey of a region near the
gulf of San Miguel.
The good man was delighted. This was just the employment which his
nature craved. He was directed to embark in a vessel commanded by one
of the governor's tools, an infamous wretch by the name of De
Valenzuela. This man had been for many years a private, and was then
engaged in kidnapping Indians for the slave trade. He was ordered as
soon as the vessel was at sea, to chain M. Codro to the foremast, to
expose him to all the tortures of the blaze of a tropical sun by day
and chilling dews by night. The crew were enjoined to assail him with
insulting mockery. Thus exposed to hunger, burning heat, and incessant
abuse, he was to be kept through these lingering agonies until he
died.
For ten days the good man bore this cruel martyrdom, when he breathed
his last, and was buried on a small island about a hundred miles
southwest of Panama. This brutal assassination was so conducted, that
De Soto at the time had no knowledge of the tragedy which was being
enacted.
Early in the year 1526, Don Pedro, surrounded by a large retinue of
his obedient soldiery, left Panama to assume the government of
Nicaragua, to which he had no legitimate title. De Soto accompanied
the governor. Much as he detested his character, he could not forget
that he was the father of Isabella. When Don Pedro approached the
little town of Leon, he sent a courier before him, to order De Cordova
to meet him in the public square, with his municipal officers and his
clergy, prepared to give an account of his administration.
De Soto with his horsemen was ordered to form in line on one side of
the square. The foot soldiers of Don Pedro surrounded the governor on
the other side. All the vacant space was filled with citizens and
natives. By the side of the governor stood his executioner; a man of
gigantic stature and of herculean strength, whose massive sword few
arms but his could wield. De Cordova advanced to meet Don Pedro, and
bowing respectfully before him, commenced giving an account of the
state of affairs in the province. Suddenly he was interrupted in his
narrative by Don Pedro, who with forced anger exclaimed:
"Silence, you hypocrite! Your treasonable projects cannot be hidden
under these absurd pretensions of loyalty and patriotism: I will now
let your accomplices see how a traitor should be punished."
He made a sign to his executioner. His gleaming sword flashed through
the air, and in an instant the dissevered head of Cordova rolled in
the dust. The headsman grasped the gory trophy by the hair, and
raising it high above his head exclaimed,
"_Behold the doom of a traitor._"
All this took place in an instant. The spectators were horror
stricken. De Soto instinctively seized his sword, and would doubtless
have put spurs to his horse, rushed upon the governor, and plunged the
weapon to the hilt in his breast, but for the restraining memories of
the past. Hesitatingly he returned his sword to its scabbard.
But Don Pedro had not yet finished the contemplated work of the day.
Another victim he had doomed to fall. A file of soldiers, very
resolute men, led by a determined officer, crossing the square,
approached De Soto, at the head of his troops. Don Pedro then
exclaimed in a loud voice,
"Ferdinand De Soto, you are ordered to dismount and submit yourself to
the punishment which you have just seen inflicted on your traitorous
comrade. Soldiers! drag him from his horse if he refuse to obey."
The officer reached forth his hand to seize De Soto. Like lightning's
flash, the sword of the cavalier fell upon the officer, and his head
was cleft from crown to chin. The spurs were applied to the fiery
steed. He plunged through the soldiers, knocking several of them down,
and in an instant De Soto had his sword's point at the breast of the
governor. Shouts of "kill the tyrant," rose from all parts of the
square, which were echoed even from the ranks of Don Pedro's soldiers.
Again De Soto held back his avenging hand; but in words which made Don
Pedro quake in his shoes, he said,
"You hear the expression of public sentiment. You hear the wishes of
those who are subject to your authority. It is the voice of justice
speaking through these people. In refusing to obey the call, I am
scarcely less guilty than yourself. But remember, Don Pedro, that in
sparing your life at this moment, I discharge all the obligations I
have owed you. Miserable old man! Be thankful that the recollection of
one that is absent, can make me forget what I owe to my murdered
friend.
"I will now sheathe my sword, but I solemnly declare by the sacred
emblem of the cross which it bears, that I will never draw it again in
your service."
The assassination, for it could hardly be called execution, of De
Cordova, excited the general indignation of the Spanish settlers. They
all knew that Don Pedro had no authority from the king of Spain to
assume the government of Nicaragua, and that he was therefore an
usurper. The noble character which De Soto had exhibited, and his
undeniable ability and bravery, had won for him universal regard. The
Spaniards generally rallied around him, and entreated him to assume
the command, promising him their enthusiastic support. They could not
comprehend why De Soto so persistently refused their solicitations.
They knew nothing of the secret reasons which rendered it almost
impossible for De Soto to draw his sword against the father of
Isabella.
As we have mentioned, it was generally supposed that there must be
some strait between the Isthmus of Darien and the southern frontiers
of Mexico, which connected the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans. The king of Spain had offered a large reward for the discovery
of this passage. Several of the wealthy citizens of Leon organized an
expedition in pursuit of this object. De Soto was placed at its head.
He selected, from his cavalry troop, five of his most intelligent and
energetic young men. They started from Leon, and followed along the
coast of the Pacific, in northwesterly course, penetrating every bay
and inlet. They travelled on horseback and encountered innumerable
difficulties from the rugged and pathless wilderness, through which
they pressed their way. They also had much to fear from the unfriendly
character of the natives, whose hostility had been aroused by the
outrages which companies of vagabond Spaniards had inflicted upon
them.
De Soto, however, and his companions, by their just and kindly spirit,
soon won the regards of the Indians. They found that the natives
possessed large quantities of gold, which they seemed to esteem of
little value. Eagerly they exchanged the precious metal for such
trinkets as the explorers took with them. Upon this arduous
expedition, which De Soto managed with consummate skill, he was absent
eleven months. Seven hundred miles of sea-coast were carefully
explored, and he became fully convinced that the looked-for strait did
not exist. Though in this respect the expedition had proved a
failure, he returned to Leon quite enriched by the gold which he had
gathered. With honesty, rarely witnessed in those days, he impartially
divided the treasure among the projectors of the enterprise.
As De Soto was returning, he discovered a small Spanish vessel
anchored near the present site of San Salvador. As his men and horses
were worn down by their fatiguing journey, he engaged a passage in the
vessel to Leon. Upon embarking he found the captain and crew consisted
of some of the most depraved and brutal men who had ever visited the
New World. They were cruising along the coast, watching for
opportunity to kidnap the natives, to convey them to the West Indies
as slaves. The captain was the infamous Valenzuela, who, as agent of
Don Pedro, had tortured M. Codro to death.
De Soto had no knowledge, as we have mentioned, of the dreadful doom
which had befallen his friend. One day the fiendlike captain was
amusing his crew with a recital of his past deeds of villany. He told
the story of the murder of Codro.
"He was," he said, "an old wizard whom Don Pedro, the governor of
Panama, commissioned me to torture and to put to death, in consequence
of some treachery of which he had been guilty while on a mission to
Spain."
The words caught the ear of De Soto. He joined the group, and listened
with breathless attention and a throbbing heart, to the statement of
Valenzuela.
"I chained the old fellow," said the captain, "to the mainmast, and
the sailors amused themselves by drenching him with buckets of cold
water, till he was almost drowned. After several days, he became so
sick and exhausted, that we saw that our sport would soon be at an
end. For two days he was speechless. He then suddenly recovered the
use of his voice, and endeavored to frighten me by saying:
"'Captain, your treatment has caused my death. I now call upon you to
hear the words of a dying man. Within a year from this time, I summon
you to meet me before the judgment seat of God.'"
Here the captain burst into a derisive and scornful laugh. He then
added:
"Come comrades, we'll have a hamper of wine, and drink to the repose
of M. Codro's soul."
De Soto stepped forward, and repressing all external exhibition of the
rage which consumed his soul, said calmly to the captain,
"You say that the astrologer prophesied that you should die within the
year. When will that year expire?"
"In about two weeks," the captain replied. "But I have no fear but
that the prophet will prove to be a liar."
"He shall not," De Soto added. And drawing from his scabbard his keen,
glittering sword, with one blow from his sinewy arm, severed the
captain's head from his body. The ghastly trophy rolled gushing with
blood upon the deck. These wild and savage men were accustomed to such
scenes. They admired the courage of De Soto, and the marvellous skill
with which, at one blow, he had struck off the head of the captain. De
Soto then turned to the crowd and said:
"Gentlemen, if any of you are disposed to hold me accountable for what
I have just done, I am ready to answer you according to your desires.
But I consider myself bound, in reason and in courtesy, to inform you,
that M. Codro, the man whom this villain murdered, was my friend; and
I doubt not that he was condemned to death for doing me an important
service."
All seemed satisfied with this explanation. These sanguinary scenes in
those days produced but a momentary impression.
De Soto and Don Pedro no longer held any intercourse with each other.
The reign of the usurping governor was atrocious beyond the power of
language to express. With horses and bloodhounds he ran down the
natives, seizing and selling them as slaves. Droves of men, women and
children, chained together, were often driven into the streets of
Leon.
The assumption then was that a nominal Christian might pardonably
inflict any outrages upon those who had not accepted the Christian
faith. Several of the Indian chiefs had embraced Christianity. Don
Pedro compelled them all to pay him a tribute of fifty slaves a month.
All orphans were to be surrendered as slaves. And then the wretch
demanded that all parents who had several children, should surrender
one or more, as slaves to the Spaniards. The natives were robbed of
their harvests, so that they had no encouragement to cultivate the
soil. This led to famine, and more than twenty thousand perished of
starvation. Famine introduced pestilence. The good Las Casas declares
that in consequence of the oppressions of the Spaniards, in ten years,
more than sixty thousand of the natives of Nicaragua perished.
About this time Francisco Pizarro had embarked in a hair-brained
enterprise for the conquest of Peru, on the western coast of South
America. Very slowly he had forced his way along, towards that vast
empire, encountering innumerable difficulties, and enduring frightful
sufferings, until he had reached a point where his progress seemed to
be arrested. His army was greatly weakened, and he had not sufficient
force to push his conquests any farther. Threatened with the utter
extermination of his band, he remembered De Soto, whom he had never
loved. He knew that he was anxious for fame and fortune, and thought
that his bravery and great military ability might extricate him from
his embarrassments.
He therefore wrote to Don Pedro, praying that De Soto, with
reinforcements, might be sent to his aid. For three years there had
been no communication whatever between the governor and the lover of
his daughter. But Don Pedro regarded the adventure of Pizarro as
hazardous in the extreme, and felt sure that all engaged in the
enterprise would miserably perish. Eagerly he caught at the idea of
sending De Soto to join them; for his presence was to Don Pedro a
constant source of annoyance and dread. He therefore caused the
communication from Pizarro to be conveyed to De Soto, saying to the
messenger who bore it:
"Urge De Soto to depart immediately for Peru. And I pray Heaven that
we may never hear of him again."
De Soto, not knowing what to do with himself, imprudently consented,
and thus allied his fortunes with those of one of the greatest
villains of any age or country.
CHAPTER V.
_The Invasion of Peru._
The Kingdom of Peru.--Its Metropolis.--The Desperate
Condition of Pizarro.--Arrival of De Soto.--Character of the
Spaniards.--Exploring tour of De Soto.--The Colony at San
Miguel.--The General Advance.--Second Exploration of De
Soto.--Infamous Conduct of the Pizarros.
The kingdom of Peru, skirting the western coast of South America,
between the majestic peaks of the Andes and the mirrored waters of the
Pacific Ocean, was one of the most beautiful countries in the world.
This kingdom, diversified with every variety of scenery, both of the
sublime and the beautiful, and enjoying a delicious climate, was about
eighteen hundred miles in length and one hundred and fifty in breadth.
The natives had attained a high degree of civilization. Though
gunpowder, steel armor, war horses, and bloodhounds gave the barbarian
Spaniards the supremacy on fields of blood, the leading men, among the
Peruvians, seem to have been in intelligence, humanity and every
virtue, far superior to the savage leaders of the Spaniards, who so
ruthlessly invaded their peaceful realms.
The metropolis of the empire was the city of Cuzo, which was situated
in a soft and luxuriant valley traversing some table-lands which were
about twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea. The government
of the country was an absolute monarchy. But its sovereign, called the
Inca, seems to have been truly a good man, the father of his people;
wisely and successfully seeking their welfare. The Peruvians had
attained a degree of excellence in many of the arts unsurpassed by the
Spaniards. Their houses were generally built of stone; their massive
temples, though devoid of architectural beauty, were constructed of
hewn blocks of granite, so admirably joined together that the seams
could be with difficulty discerned.
Humbolt found, among the ruins of these temples, blocks of hewn stone
thirty-six feet long, nine feet wide, and six feet in thickness. Their
great highways, spanning the gulfs, clinging to the precipitous cliffs
and climbing the mountains, were wonderful works of mechanical skill.
De Soto was thoroughly acquainted with the cruel, faithless, and
treacherous character of Pizarro. A stigma must ever rest upon his
name, for consenting to enter into any expedition under the leadership
of such a man. It may however be said, in reply, that he had no
intention of obeying Pizarro in any thing that was wrong; that his
love of adventure was roused by the desire to explore one of the most
magnificent empires in the New World, which rumor had invested with
wealth and splendor surpassing the dreams of romance. And perhaps,
most important of all, he hoped _honestly_ to be able to gather from
the fabled mines of gold, with which Peru was said to be filled, that
wealth with which he would be enabled to return to Spain and claim the
hand, as he had already won the heart, of the fair and faithful
Isabella.
Pizarro had entered upon his enterprise with an army of one hundred
and eighty men, twenty-seven of whom were mounted. It seems to be the
uncontradicted testimony of contemporary historians, that this army
was composed of as worthless a set of vagabonds as ever disgraced
humanity. There was no crime or cruelty from which these fiends in
human form would recoil.
Pizarro, following down the western coast of South America five or six
hundred miles, had reached the island of Puna, in the extreme northern
part of Peru. It was separated from the mainland by a narrow strait.
The inhabitants received him cordially, but the murders, rapine and
other nameless atrocities, perpetrated by the Spaniards upon the
friendly natives, soon so aroused their resentment that a conspiracy
was formed for the entire extermination of the invaders. The
expedition had become so weakened and demoralized that even Pizarro
saw that it would be the height of imprudence for him to venture, with
his vile crew, upon the mainland, before reinforcements under some
degree of military discipline should arrive. He was in this precarious
condition, and on the eve of extermination, when De Soto and his
select and well-ordered troops reached the island.
They came in two vessels, bringing with them an abundant supply of
arms and ammunition. The party consisted of fifty men, thoroughly
equipped. Thirty of them were steel-clad cavaliers, well mounted. De
Soto had been offered the rank of second in command. But when he
arrived at Puna, he found that Pizarro's brother--Hernando--occupied
this post, and that he had no intention of relinquishing it. De Soto
reproached Pizarro in very plain terms for this wrong and insult. He
however did not allow it long to trouble him. Surrounded by his own
brave and devoted followers, he felt quite independent of the
authority of Pizarro, and had no intention of obeying him any farther
than might be in accordance with his own wishes.
On the other hand, Pizarro had but little confidence in his brother,
and was fully conscious that the success of his enterprise would be
mainly dependent upon the energy and skill of De Soto.
Pizarro, now finding himself at the head of really a formidable force,
prepared to pass over to the mainland. There was quite a large town
there called Tumbez, surrounded by a rich and densely populated
country. The Peruvians had gold in abundance, and weapons and utensils
of copper. With iron and steel, they were entirely unacquainted. As
when fighting at a distance, the bullet of the Spaniard was
immeasurably superior to the arrow of the native, so in a hand to hand
fight, the keen and glittering sabre of steel, especially in the hands
of steel-clad cavaliers left the poorly armed Peruvians almost
entirely at their mercy.
Arrangements were made to cross the strait and make a descent upon
Tumbez. Pizarro had already visited the place, where he had been
kindly received by the inhabitants, and where he had seen with his own
eyes that the houses and temples were decorated with golden ornaments,
often massive in weight, and of almost priceless value. He floated his
little band across the narrow strait on rafts.
The inhabitants of Tumbez and its vicinity had been disposed to
receive their Spanish visitors as guests, and to treat them with the
utmost courtesy and kindness. But the tidings had reached them of the
terrible outrages which they had inflicted upon the inhabitants of
Puna. They therefore attacked the Spaniards as they approached the
shore on their rafts and endeavored to prevent their landing. But the
invaders, with musketry and a cannon which they had with them,
speedily drove off their assailants, and with horses and hounds
planted their banners upon the shore. They then marched directly upon
Tumbez, confident of gathering, from the decorations of her palaces
and her temples, abounding wealth. Bitter was their disappointment.
The Peruvians, conscious of their probable inability to resist the
invaders, had generally abandoned the city, carrying with them, far
away into the mountains, all their treasures.
The Spaniards, who had entered the city with hideous yells of triumph,
being thus frustrated in the main object of their expedition, found,
by inquiry, that at the distance of several leagues easterly from the
sea-coast, among the pleasant valleys of the mountains, there were
populous cities, where abundance of booty might be found.
The whole number of Spaniards, then invading Peru, did not exceed two
hundred and fifty. The Peruvians were daily becoming more deeply
exasperated. With such a number of men, and no fortified base to fall
back upon, Pizarro did not deem it safe to enter upon a plundering
tour into the interior. Keeping therefore about one hundred and
thirty men with him, and strongly fortifying himself at Tumbez, he
sent De Soto, at the head of eighty men, sixty of whom were mounted,
back into the mountains, to search for gold, and to report respecting
the condition of the country, in preparation for future expeditions.
The bad fame of Pizarro was spreading far and wide. And though De Soto
enjoined it strictly upon his men, not to be guilty of any act of
injustice, still he was an invading Spaniard, and the Peruvians
regarded them all as the shepherd regards the wolf. De Soto had passed
but a few leagues from the seashore, ere he entered upon the hilly
country. As he was ascending one of the gentle eminences, a band of
two thousand Indians, who had met there to arrest his progress, rushed
down upon him. His sixty horsemen instantly formed in column and
impetuously charged into their crowded ranks. These Peruvians had
never seen a horse before. Their arrows glanced harmless from the
impenetrable armor, and they were mercilessly cut down and trampled
beneath iron hoofs. The Spaniards galloped through and through their
ranks, strewing the ground with the dead. The carnage was of short
duration. The panic-stricken Peruvians fled wherever there was a
possibility of escape. The trumpets of the conquerors pealed forth
their triumphant strains. The silken banners waved proudly in the
breeze, and the victors exultingly continued their march through one
of the defiles of the mountains.
Whatever excuses De Soto may make for himself, humanity will never
forgive him for the carnage of that day. Having thus fairly embarked
upon this enterprise, where he was surely gaining military renown,
infamous as it was, and where there was the prospect before him of
plunder of incalculable worth, De Soto seems to have assumed to act
upon his own responsibility, and to have paid very little regard to
the authority of Pizarro, whom he had left behind. He had already
penetrated the country much farther than he had been authorized to do
by the orders of his superior. One of the men, whom Pizarro had sent
with him, very probably as a spy upon his movements, deserted, and
returned to Tumbez with the report that De Soto was already
practically in revolt, and had renounced all dependence on Pizarro.
For this alleged insubordination, Pizarro did not venture to call his
energetic lieutenant to account.
In the mean time, Pizarro was exploring the country in the vicinity of
Tumbez, for the site of the colony he wished to establish. He selected
a position about ninety miles south of that city, in a rich and
well-watered valley which opened upon the placid surface of the
Pacific. His troops were transported to the spot by the two vessels.
Here he laid the foundations of a town, which he called San Miguel.
With timber from the mountains, and stone from the quarries, and the
labor of a large number of natives, who were driven to daily toil,
not as servants, by the stimulus of well-paid labor, but as slaves,
goaded by the sabres of their task masters, quite a large and
strongly-fortified town rapidly arose.
De Soto continued his explorations in the interior for some time, and
discovered a very magnificent highway, leading to the capital of the
empire. It was smoothly paved with flat blocks of stone, or with
cement harder than stone. He returned to San Miguel with the report of
his discoveries, and quite richly laden with the gold which he had
received as a present from the natives, or which he had seized as what
he considered the lawful spoils of war. The sight of the gold inspired
all the Spaniards at San Miguel with the intense desire to press
forward into a field which promised so rich a harvest.
It was ascertained that the Inca had command of an army of over fifty
thousand men. Pizarro, leaving sixty men in garrison at San Miguel,
set out with one hundred and ninety men to visit the Inca in his
capital. De Soto accompanied him. It was not ostensibly a military
expedition, seeking the conquest of the country, or moving with any
hostile intent whatever. De Soto had a conscience; Pizarro had none.
Whatever reproaches might arise in the mind of De Soto in reference to
the course he was pursuing, he silenced them by the very plausible
assumption that he was an ambassador from the king of Spain,
commissioned to make a friendly visit to the monarch of another
newly-discovered empire; that he was the messenger of peace seeking to
unite the two kingdoms in friendly relations with each other for their
mutual benefit. This was probably the real feeling of De Soto. The
expedition was commissioned by the king of Spain. The armed retinue
was only such as became the ambassadors of a great monarch. Such an
expedition was in every respect desirable. The fault--perhaps we ought
in candor to say the calamity--of De Soto was in allowing himself to
be attached to an expedition under a man so thoroughly reckless and
unprincipled as he knew Pizarro to have been. Perhaps he hoped to
control the actions of his ignorant and fanatic superior officer. It
is quite manifest that De Soto did exert a very powerful influence in
giving shape to the expedition.
An Indian courier was sent forward to Cuzco, one of the capitals of
the Peruvian monarch, with a friendly and almost an obsequious message
to the Inca, whose name was Attahuallapa. The courier bore the
communication that Pizarro was an ambassador commissioned by the king
of Spain to visit the king of Peru, and to kiss his hand in token of
peace and fraternity. He therefore solicited that protection in
passing through the country which every monarch is bound to render to
the representatives of a foreign and friendly power.
Pizarro, as it will be remembered, was a rough and illiterate soldier,
unable either to read or write. In this sagacious diplomatic
arrangement, we undoubtedly see the movement of De Soto's reflective
and cultivated mind. The expedition moved slowly along, awaiting the
return of the courier. He soon came back with a very indefinite
response, and with a present of two curiously carved stone cups, and
some perfumery. The guarded reply and the meagre present excited some
alarm in the Spanish camp. It was very evident that the expedition was
not to anticipate a very cordial reception at the Peruvian court.
Pizarro was much alarmed. He was quite confident that the Inca was
trying to lure them on to their ruin. Having called a council of war,
he urged that they should proceed no farther until he had sent some
faithful Indian spies to ascertain the intentions of Attahuallapa.
But De Soto, whose youthful energies were inspired by love and
ambition, was eager to press forward.
"It is not necessary," said he, "for the Inca to use treachery with
us. He could easily overpower us with numbers were he so disposed. We
have also heard that he is a just and merciful prince; and the
courtesy he has already shown us, is some token at least of his good
will. But why should we hesitate? We have no longer any choice but to
go forward. If we now retreat, it will prove our professions to be
false; and when the suspicions of the Inca are once aroused, we shall
find it impossible to escape from his country."
Pizarro's brother--Hernando--was a man of ignoble birth, of ruffianly
manners, of low and brutal character. Tauntingly he inquired of De
Soto, if he were ready to give proof of his confidence in the faith of
the Peruvian monarch, by going forward to his court, as an envoy from
the embassy.
De Soto turned his keen and flashing eye upon the man, whom he
despised, and said in slow and measured words:
"Don Hernando, I may yet convince you that it is neither civil nor
safe to call my sincerity in question. I have as much confidence in
the honor of the Inca as I have in the integrity of any man in this
company, not excepting the commander or yourself. I perceive that you
are disposed to go backward. You may all return, when and how you
please, or remain where you are. But I have made up my mind to present
myself to Attahuallapa. And I shall certainly do so, without asking
the assistance or permission of any of your party."
This was certainly a very defiant speech. It asserted his entire
rejection of the authority of Pizarro. De Soto could not have dared
thus to have spoken, unless he had felt strong in the support of his
own dragoons.
Hernando Pizarro was silent, indulging only in a malignant smile. It
was not safe for him to provoke De Soto to a personal rencontre.
Francisco Pizarro smothered his chagrin and very adroitly availed
himself of this statement, to commission De Soto to take twenty-four
horsemen, such as he might select, and accompanied by an Indian guide
called Filipillo, go forward to the Peruvian court.
Both of the Pizarros seemed quite relieved when the sound of the
departing squadron of brave cavaliers died away in the distance. De
Soto, during the whole of his adventurous life, seems to have been
entirely unconscious of the emotion of fear. During his residence in
the camp of the Pizarros, he had exerted a powerful restraint upon
their ferocious natures. He had very earnestly endeavored to impress
their minds with the conviction that they could not pass through the
populous empire of Peru, or even remain in it, if their followers were
allowed to trample upon the rights of the natives. So earnestly and
persistently did he urge these views, that Pizarro at length
acknowledged their truth, and in the presence of De Soto, commanded
his men to abstain from every act of aggression.
But now that De Soto was gone, the Pizarros and their rabble rout of
vagabonds breathed more freely. Scarcely had the plumed helmets of the
cavaliers disappeared in the distance, when Hernando Pizarro set out
on a plundering expedition into the villages of the Peruvians. The
natives fled in terror before the Spaniards. Pizarro caught one of the
leading men and questioned him very closely respecting the designs of
Attahuallapa. The captive honestly and earnestly declared, that he
knew nothing about the plans of his sovereign.
This demoniac Hernando endeavored to extort a confession from him by
torture. He tied his victim to a tree, enveloped his feet in cotton
thoroughly saturated with oil and applied the torch. The wretched
sufferer in unendurable agony, said "yes" to anything and everything.
Two days after, it was proved that he could not have known anything
respecting the intended operations of the Inca. It is a satisfaction
to one's sense of justice to remember that there is a God who will not
allow such crimes to go unpunished.
De Soto, with his bold cavaliers, pressed rapidly on towards the
Peruvian camp. Very carefully he guarded against every act of
hostility or injustice. Everywhere the natives were treated with the
utmost courtesy. In the rapid advance of the Spaniards through the
country, crowds flocked to the highway attracted by the novel
spectacle. And a wonderful spectacle it must have been! These
cavaliers, with their nodding plumes, their burnished armor, their
gleaming sabres, their silken banners, mounted on magnificent war
horses and rushing along over the hills and through the valleys in
meteoric splendor, must have presented an aspect more imposing to
their minds than we can well imagine.
De Soto, who had not his superior as a horseman in the Spanish army,
was mounted on a milk white steed of extraordinary size and grace of
figure, and wore a complete suit of the most costly and showy armor.
It is said that on one occasion his path was crossed by a brook twenty
feet wide. The noble animal disdained to wade through, but cleared it
at a single bound.
The crowds who lined the highways seemed to understand and appreciate
the friendly feelings De Soto manifested in gracefully bowing to them
and smiling as he passed along. He soon ascertained, though his guide
Filipillo, that the headquarters of the Peruvian camp was at a place
now called Caxamarca, among the mountains, about eighty miles
northeast of the present seaport of Truxillo.
After a rapid ride of about six hours, the expedition approached quite
a flourishing little town called Caxas. Several hundred Peruvian
soldiers were drawn up in battle array in the outskirts, to arrest the
progress of the Spaniards. De Soto halted his dragoons, and sent
forward Filipillo to assure the commandant that he was traversing the
country not with any hostile intent, and that he bore a friendly
message from his own sovereign to the king of Peru.
The kindly disposed Peruvians immediately laid aside their arms,
welcomed the strangers, and entertained them with a sumptuous feast.
Thus refreshed, they pressed on several leagues farther, until they
reached a much larger city called Guancabama. From all the accounts
given it would seem that the inhabitants of this region had reached a
degree of civilization, so far as the comforts of life are concerned,
fully equal to that then to be found in Spain. This city was on the
magnificent highway which traversed fifteen hundred miles through the
very heart of the empire. The houses, which were built of hewn stone,
admirably jointed, consisted of several rooms, and were distinguished
for cleanliness, order, and domestic comfort.
The men seemed intelligent, the women modest, and various arts of
industry occupied their time. De Soto testified that the great highway
which passed through this place far surpassed in grandeur and utility
any public work which had ever been attempted in Spain. Happy and
prosperous as were the Peruvians, compared with the inhabitants of
most other countries, it is quite evident that the ravages of the Fall
were not unknown there.
Just before entering the town, De Soto passed a high gibbet upon which
three malefactors were hung in chains, swaying in the breeze. That
revolting spectacle revealed the sad truth that in Peru, as well as
elsewhere, man's fallen nature developed itself in crime and woe. The
Emperor had also a large standing army, and the country had just been
ravaged by the horrors of civil war.
De Soto was kindly received at Guancabama. Just as he was about to
leave for Caxamarca, an envoy from the Inca reached the city on its
way to the Spanish camp. The ambassador was a man of high rank.
Several servants accompanied him, laden with presents for Pizarro. He
entreated De Soto to return with him to the headquarters of the
Spaniards. As these presents and this embassy would probably convince
Pizarro of the friendly feeling of the Peruvian monarch, De Soto
judged it wise to comply with his request. Thus he turned back, and
the united party soon reached Pizarro's encampment.
CHAPTER VI.
_The Atrocities of Pizarro._
Fears of Pizarro.--Honorable Conduct of the Inca.--The March
to Caxamarca.--Hospitable Reception.--Perfidious Attack upon
the Inca.--His Capture and Imprisonment.--The Honor of De
Soto.--The Offered Ransom.--Treachery and Extortion of
Pizarro.
The report which De Soto brought back was in many respects quite
alarming to the Pizarros. Though they were delighted to hear of the
wealth which had been discovered, and the golden ornaments decorating
houses, temples and shrines, they were not a little alarmed in the
contemplation of the large population over which the Inca reigned, and
of the power of his government. The spectacle of the gallows also at
Guancabama, caused very uncomfortable sensations.
Both of these men were aware that they and their troops had committed
crimes which would doom them to the scaffold, should the Inca be able
to punish them according to their deserts. Indeed it subsequently
appeared, that the Inca had heard of their outrages. But with humanity
and a sense of justice which reflects lustre upon his name, he had
resolved not to punish them unheard in their own defence. He knew not
but that false representations had been made of the facts. He knew not
but that the Spaniards had been goaded to acts of retaliation by
outrages on the part of the Peruvians.
He therefore invited the Spanish adventurers to meet him at Caxamarca,
assuring them of a safe passage to that place. With fear and trembling
Pizarro consented, with his little band of two hundred and fifty men,
to visit the Peruvian camp, where fifty thousand soldiers might be
arrayed against him. The path they were to traverse led through
defiles of the mountains, where a few hundred men could arrest the
march of an army. The Spaniards afterwards could not but admit, that
had the Inca cherished any perfidious design, he might with the utmost
ease have utterly exterminated them. Not a man could have escaped.
The march of these trembling men was not with the triumphant tramp of
conquerors. They did not enter the Peruvian camp with flourish of
trumpets and bugle blasts, but as peaceful ambassadors, with a showy
retinue, who had been permitted to traverse the country unharmed. The
sun was just sinking behind the rugged peaks of the mountains on the
fifteenth of November, 1532, when Pizarro's band rode into the streets
of Caxamarca. In the centre of the town there was a large public
square. On one side of that square was a spacious stone edifice, which
the Inca had caused to be prepared for the accommodation of his
guests. This building was a part of a strong fortress, within whose
massive walls, a small party of well armed men might easily defend
themselves against a host.
The fact that Attahuallapa assigned to them such quarters, proves
conclusively that he had no intention to treat them otherwise than in
the most friendly manner. The Inca, with the troops immediately under
his command, was encamped at a distance of about three miles from the
town. The treacherous Pizarro was ever apprehensive of treachery on
the part of others. He was an entire stranger to that calm and
peaceful courage which seemed always to reign in the bosom of De Soto.
Immediately after he reached Caxamarca he dispatched De Soto to inform
the Inca of his arrival. The Peruvian camp covered several acres of
ground, with substantial and commodious tents. In the centre there was
truly a magnificent pavilion, gorgeous in its decorations, which was
appropriated to the Inca. Attahuallapa was informed of the approach of
the Spanish cavaliers. He came from his tent and took his seat upon a
splendid throne prepared for the occasion. The Peruvian soldiers gazed
with amazement upon the spectacle of these horsemen as they were led
into the presence of their sovereign.
De Soto, with the native grace which attended all his actions,
alighted from his horse, bowed respectfully to the monarch, and said
in words which were interpreted by Filipillo.
"I am sent by my commander, Don Francisco Pizarro, who desires to be
admitted to your presence, to give you an account of the causes which
have brought him to this country, and other matters which it may
behoove your majesty to know. He humbly entreats you to allow him an
interview this night or to-morrow, as he wishes to make you an offer
of his services, and to deliver the message which has been committed
to him by his sovereign, the king of Spain."
Attahuallapa replied with much dignity and some apparent reserve, that
he cordially accepted the friendly offers of Pizarro, and would grant
him the desired interview the following morning. The Inca was a young
man about thirty years of age. He was tall, admirably formed, and with
a very handsome countenance. But there was an expression of sadness
overspreading his features, and a pensive tone in his address,
indicating that he was a man who had seen affliction.
The splendid steed from which De Soto had alighted was restlessly
pawing the ground at a short distance from the tent of the Inca,
attracting the particular attention and admiration of the sovereign.
De Soto, perceiving the admiration which his steed elicited,
remounted, and touching the spirited animal with the spur, went
bounding with almost the speed of the wind over the level plain,
causing his horse now to rear, and now to plunge, wheeling him around,
and thus exhibiting his excellent qualities. He then came down at full
speed to the spot where the Inca stood, until within a few feet of the
monarch, when he checked his horse so suddenly as to throw him back
upon his haunches. Some of the attendants of the Inca were evidently
alarmed; but the Inca himself stood proudly immovable. He reproved his
attendants for their timidity; and Mr. Prescott, who represents
Attahuallapa as a very cruel man, intimates that he put some of them
to death that evening for betraying such weakness before the
strangers. Refreshments were offered to De Soto and his party, and a
sort of wine was presented to them in golden cups, of extraordinary
size.
As De Soto, having fulfilled his mission, was about to leave the royal
presence and return to Caxamarca, Attahuallapa said:
"Tell your companions, that as I am keeping a fast, I cannot to-day
accept their invitation. I will come to them to-morrow. I may be
attended by a large and armed retinue. But let not that give you any
uneasiness. I wish to cultivate your friendship and that of your king.
I have already given ample proof that no harm is intended you, though
your captain, I am told, mistrusts me. If you think it will please him
better, I will come with few attendants and those unarmed."
De Soto warmly assured the Inca that no man could doubt his sincerity,
and begged him to consult his own taste entirely in reference to the
manner in which he would approach the Spaniards.
Upon the return of the cavalier to Pizarro, with an account of the
interview, that perfidious chieftain proposed to his men, that they
should seize the Inca and hold him in captivity as a hostage. Mr.
Prescott, in his account of this infamous procedure, speaks of it in
the following apologetic terms:
"Pizarro then summoned a council of his officers, to consider
the plan of operations, or rather to propose to them the
extraordinary plan on which he had himself decided. This was
to lay an ambuscade for the Inca, and take him prisoner in
the face of his whole army. It was a project full of peril,
bordering as it might well seem on desperation. But the
circumstances of the Spaniards were desperate. Whichever way
they turned they were menaced by the most appalling dangers.
And better was it to confront the danger, than weakly to
shrink from it when there was no avenue for escape. To fly
was now too late. Whither could they fly? At the first signal
of retreat the whole army of the Inca would be upon them.
Their movements would be anticipated by a foe far better
acquainted with the intricacies of the Sierra than
themselves; the passes would be occupied, and they would be
hemmed in on all sides; while the mere fact of this
retrograde movement would diminish the confidence and with it
the effective strength of his own men, while it doubled that
of the enemy."
The next morning was Saturday, the 16th of November, 1532. The sun
rose in a cloudless sky, and great preparations were made by the Inca
to display his grandeur and his power to his not very welcome guests.
A large retinue preceded and followed the monarch, while a courier was
sent forward to inform Pizarro of his approach. The Inca, habited in a
dress which was glittering with gems and gold, was seated in a
gorgeous open palanquin, borne upon the shoulders of many of his
nobles.
It was five o'clock in the afternoon, when the Inca, accompanied by a
small but unarmed retinue, entered the public square of the city. The
tents of his troops left outside, spread far and wide over the
meadows, indicating the presence of an immense host. The Inca was
clothed in a flowing robe of scarlet, woven of the finest wool, and
almost entirely covered with golden stars and the most precious gems.
His head was covered with a turban of variegated colors, to which
there was suspended a scarlet fringe, the badge of royalty. The
palanquin, or throne, on which he was seated, was apparently of pure
gold; and the cushion upon which he sat was covered with the most
costly gems. His nobles were also dressed in the highest possible
style of Peruvian wealth and art. It was estimated that the number of
the nobles and officers of the court who accompanied the king into the
square, was about two thousand. A large company of priests was also in
attendance, who chanted the Peruvian National Hymn.
It is very difficult for an honest mind to form any just conception of
such a religious fanatic, and such an irreligious wretch as this
Francisco Pizarro. Just before the Peruvians arrived he had attended a
solemn mass, in which the aid of the God of the Christians was
fervently implored in behalf of their enterprise. The mass was closed
with chanting one of the psalms of David, in which God is called upon
to arise and come to judgment. Friar Vincent, who was Pizarro's
spiritual adviser, and grand chaplain of the so-called Christian army,
was then sent forward with the Bible in one hand and a crucifix in the
other, to expound to the Inca the doctrines of the Christian faith,
stating that it was for that purpose, and for that only, that the
Spaniards had come into the country.
So far as we can judge from the uncertain records which have reached
us, the views he presented were what are called evangelical, though
highly imbued with the claims of the Papal Church. He described the
creation of man, his fall, the atonement by the crucifixion of the Son
of God, his ascension, leaving Peter and his successors, as his
vicegerents upon earth. Invested with this divine power, one of his
successors, the present Pope, had commissioned Pizarro to visit Peru,
to conquer and convert the natives to the true faith.
The Inca listened attentively to the arguments of the priest, but was
apparently unmoved by them. He calmly replied:
"I acknowledge that there is but one God, the maker of all things. As
for the Pope, I know him not. He must be insane to give away that
which does not belong to him. The king of Spain is doubtless a great
monarch, and I wish to make him my friend, but I cannot become his
vassal."
A few more words were interchanged, when the priest returned into the
stone fortress, where Pizarro stood surrounded by his soldiers. The
priest reported the conversation which had taken place; declared that
the Inca, in the pride of his heart, had rejected Christianity. He
therefore announced to Pizarro that he was authorized by the divine
law, to make war upon the Inca and his people.
"Go set on them at once," said he; "spare them not; kill these dogs
which so stubbornly despise the law of God. I absolve you."
The extraordinary scene which then ensued cannot perhaps be better
described than in the language of Mr. Prescott:
"Pizarro saw that the hour had come. He waved a white scarf
in the air, the appointed signal. The fatal gun was fired
from the fortress. Then springing into the square, the
Spanish captain and his followers shouted the old war cry of
'St. Jago, and at them!' It was answered by the battle cry of
every Spaniard in the city, as rushing from the avenues of
the great halls in which they were concealed, they poured
into the Plaza, horse and foot, and threw themselves into the
midst of the Indian crowd.
"The latter, taken by surprise, stunned by the reports of
artillery and musketry, the echoes of which reverberated like
thunder from the surrounding buildings, and blinded by the
smoke which rolled in sulphurous volumes along the square,
were seized with a panic. They knew not whither to fly for
refuge from the coming ruin. Nobles and commoners all were
trampled down under the fierce charge of the cavalry, who
dealt their blows right and left, without sparing; while
their swords, flashing through the thick gloom, carried
dismay into the hearts of the wretched natives, who now, for
the first time, saw the horse and his rider in all their
terrors. They made no resistance, as indeed they had no
weapons with which to resist.
"Every avenue to escape was closed, for the entrance to the
square was choked up with the dead bodies of men who had
perished in vain efforts to fly. And such was the agony of
the survivors, under the terrible pressure of their
assailants, that a large body of Indians, by their convulsive
struggles, burst through the wall of stone and dried clay,
which formed the boundary of the Plaza. It fell, leaving an
opening of more than a hundred paces, through which
multitudes now found their way into the country, still hotly
pursued by the cavalry, who, leaping the piles of rubbish,
hung on the rear of the fugitives, striking them down in all
directions.
"There were two great objects in view in this massacre. One
was to strike terror into the heart of the Peruvians; the
other was to obtain possession of the person of the Inca. It
seems that the nobles regarded their sovereign with almost
idolatrous homage. They rallied thickly around him, placed
their own bodies between him and the sabres of their
assailants, and made frantic endeavors to tear the cavaliers
from their saddles. Unfortunately they were unarmed, and had
neither arrows, javelins nor war clubs. The Inca sat helpless
in his palanquin, quite bewildered by the awful storm of war
which had thus suddenly burst around him. In the swaying of
the mighty mass, the litter heaved to and fro, like a ship in
a storm."
At length several of the nobles who supported it being slain, the
palanquin was overthrown, and the Inca, as he was falling to the
ground, was caught by the Spaniards. In the confusion of the affray,
Pizarro was slightly wounded in the hand by one of his own men. This
was the only hurt received by any Spaniard during the bloody affray.
The Inca being captured, the conflict in the square ceased. But there
was another object in view, as has been stated, and that was to strike
terror into the hearts of the Peruvians. Consequently the steel-clad
cavaliers pursued the fugitives in all directions, cutting them down
without mercy. Night, which followed the short twilight of the
tropics, put an end to the carnage, and the trumpets of Pizarro
recalled the soldiers, wiping their dripping sabres, to their
fortress. The number slain is variously estimated. The secretary of
Pizarro says that two thousand fell. A Peruvian annalist swells the
number of victims to ten thousand.
Attahuallapa, the monarch of the great kingdom of Peru, thus suddenly
found himself a prisoner in one of his own fortresses; surrounded by a
band of stern warriors, who had penetrated the heart of his empire
from a distance of more than two thousand leagues. Pizarro treated the
unhappy king with respect, and testifies to the dignity with which he
met his awful reverses. What part De Soto took in the outrages just
described, cannot now be known. He had unquestionably in good faith,
and as an honorable man, invited the Inca to visit Caxamarca, by which
invitation he had been enticed into the power of the Spaniards.
There is evidence that De Soto had no idea of the treachery which was
intended, for it was not until after he had left on his visit to the
Peruvian camp that the plot was formed for the seizure of the Inca.
Pizarro had two bodies of horsemen. One was commanded by his brother
Hernando, and the other by De Soto. There were thirty dragoons in each
band. Unquestionably, Hernando was a very eager participant in the
horrors of this day. It may be that De Soto, from the roof of the
fortress, was an inactive spectator of the scene. It does not seem
possible that with the character he had heretofore developed, he
could have lent his own strong arm and those of his horsemen to the
perpetration of a crime so atrocious. Still military discipline is a
terrible power. It sears the conscience and hardens the heart. The
fact that De Soto was present and that there are no evidences of
remonstrances on his part, has left a stigma upon his character which
time cannot efface.
The next morning these Spaniards, so zealous for the propagation of
the Christian faith, unmindful of their professed Christian mission,
betook themselves, with all alacrity, to the work of pillage. The
golden throne, and the royal wardrobe, were of very great value. The
nobles were clad in their richest garments of state, and the ground
was strewn with bodies of the dead, glittering in robes of gold and
gems. Having stripped the dead, they then entered the houses and
temples of Caxamarca and loaded themselves down with golden vases, and
other booty of great value. As one suggestive item, which reveals the
conduct of these brutal men, the good Las Casas states, that a Spanish
soldier seized a young Peruvian girl. When the mother rushed to rescue
her child, he cut off her arm with his sword, and then in his rage
hewed the maiden to pieces.
Pizarro now assumed the proud title of "The Conqueror of Peru." With
the sovereign as his prisoner, and elated by his great victory, he
felt that there was no resistance that he had to fear. It seems that
Attahuallapa had penetration enough to discern that De Soto was a very
different man in character from the Pizarros. He soon became quite
cordial and unreserved in his intercourse with him. And there is no
evidence that De Soto ever, in the slightest degree, betrayed his
confidence. One day the Inca inquired of De Soto for what amount of
ransom Pizarro would be willing to release him. De Soto was well aware
of the timidity and avarice of the captain. The love of the Peruvians
for their sovereign was such, that Pizarro was confident that so long
as Attahuallapa was in his power, they would not make war upon him. De
Soto felt therefore that there was no prospect that Pizarro would
release his captive for any ransom whatever, and sadly advised him to
resign all such hope. The Inca was greatly distressed. After a few
moments of silence, he said:
"My friend, do not deprive me of the only hope that can make life
supportable. I must be free, or I must die. Your commander loves gold
above all things. Surely I can purchase my liberty from him at some
price, and however unreasonable it may be, I am willing to satisfy his
demand. Tell me, I entreat of you, what sum you think will be
sufficient?"
For a moment De Soto made no reply. They were sitting in a room,
according to the statement of Pizarro's secretary, twenty-two feet
long and seventeen feet broad. Then turning to the Inca, and wishing
to impress his mind with the conviction that there was not any ransom
which could effect his release, he said:
"If you could fill this room with gold as high as I can reach with my
sword, Pizarro might perhaps accept it as your ransom."
"It shall be done," the Inca eagerly replied. "And I beg you to let
Pizarro know, that within a month from this day, my part of the
contract shall be fulfilled."
De Soto was troubled, for he had not intended that as an offer, but
rather as a statement of an impossibility. He however felt bound to
report the proposition to Pizarro. Much to his surprise the avaricious
captain readily accepted it. The contract was drawn up, and Pizarro
gave his solemn pledge that upon the delivery of the gold the prison
doors of the captive should be thrown open. But after the terms had
all been settled, the perfidious Spaniard craved a still higher
ransom, and declared that he would not release his victim unless
another room of equal size was equally filled with silver.
Attahuallapa could fully appreciate such dishonorable conduct; for in
all moral qualities he seems to have been decidedly superior to his
Spanish antagonist. But without any undignified murmurs, he submitted
to this extortion also. Matters being thus arranged, De Soto, with his
characteristic plain dealing, said to Pizarro:
"I hope you will remember, Don Francisco, that my honor is pledged for
the strict fulfilment of the contract on the part of the Spaniards.
Observe, therefore, that as soon as the gold and the silver are
produced, Attahuallapa must have his liberty."
CHAPTER VII.
_The Execution of the Inca, and Embarrassments of De Soto._
Pledges of Pizarro.--His Perfidy.--False Mission of De
Soto.--Execution of the Inca.--His Fortitude.--Indignation
of De Soto.--Great Embarrassments.--Extenuating
Considerations.--Arrival of Almagro.--March Towards the
Capital.
Pizarro gave his most solemn pledges, on his Christian faith, that so
soon as the money was paid the Inca should be released. The idea does
not seem to have entered the mind of Attahuallapa that Pizarro could
be guilty of the perfidy of violating those pledges. The unhappy
condition of the Inca excited the strong sympathies of De Soto. He
visited him often, and having a natural facility for the acquisition
of language, was soon able to converse with the captive in his own
tongue. Quite a friendship, founded on mutual esteem, sprang up
between them. By his strong intercession, Pizarro was constrained to
consent that the gold should not be melted into ingots, thus to fill
the designated space with its solid bulk, but that it should be
received and packed away in the form of vases, and ornaments, and
other manufactured articles, as brought in by the Peruvians.
Several of the principal officers of Attahuallapa's court were sent to
Cuzco, the capital of the empire, where the main treasures of the
kingdom were deposited. Three Spaniards accompanied these officers.
The Inca issued his orders that they should be treated with respect.
The people obeyed; for they knew that any injury or insult befalling
the Spaniards would bring down terrible retribution upon their beloved
sovereign. Peruvian agents were also dispatched to all the temples to
strip them of their ornaments, and to the homes of the nobility to
receive the plate and golden decorations which were eagerly
contributed as ransom for the king. The cornices and entablatures of
the temples were often of solid gold, and massive plates of gold
encrusted the walls. For several weeks there seemed to be a constant
procession of Peruvians entering the fortress, laden with golden vases
and innumerable other utensils, often of exquisite workmanship.
Within the allotted time the ransom, enormous as it was, was all
brought in. It is estimated that its value was equal to about twenty
million dollars of our money. The Inca now demanded his release. The
infamous Pizarro had perhaps originally intended to set him at
liberty. But he had now come to the conclusion that the Inca might
immediately rally around him, not only his whole army, but the whole
population of the kingdom, cut off the retreat of the Spaniards,
exterminate them, and win back all the plunder so unrighteously
extorted. Pizarro was consequently plotting for some plausible excuse
for putting the monarch to death. The Peruvians thus deprived of their
sovereign, and in a state of bewilderment, would be thrown into
anarchy, and the Spaniards would have a much better chance of
obtaining entire possession of the kingdom.
Pizarro did not dare to reveal to De Soto his treasonable designs. He
feared not only his reproaches, but his determined and very formidable
resistance. He therefore gave it as an excuse for postponing the
liberation of the Inca, that he must wait until he had made a division
of the spoils. The distribution was performed with imposing religious
ceremonies. Mass was celebrated, and earnest prayers were addressed to
Heaven that the work might be so performed as to meet the approbation
of God. A fifth part of the plunder was set apart for the king of
Spain, the Emperor, Charles the Fifth. Pizarro, as commander of the
expedition, came next, and his share amounted to millions. De Soto was
defrauded, not receiving half so much as Hernando Pizarro. Still, his
share in this distribution and in another which soon took place,
amounted to over five hundred thousand dollars. This was an enormous
sum in those days. It elevated him at once, in point of opulence, to
the rank of the proudest grandees of Spain.
The great object of De Soto's ambition was accomplished. He had
acquired fame and wealth beyond his most sanguine expectations. Thus
he was prepared to return to Spain and demand the hand of Isabella.
But his generous nature was troubled. He became very anxious for the
fate of the Inca. His own honor was involved in his release, and day
after day he became more importunate in his expostulations with
Pizarro.
"Whatever the consequences may be," said De Soto, "the Inca must now
be immediately set at liberty. He has your promise to that effect and
he has _mine_; and my promise, come what will, shall not be violated."
Pizarro urged, in view of their peril, the delay of a few weeks. De
Soto replied:
"Not a single week, not a day; if you do not liberate the prisoner, I
will take that liberty on myself."
"To give him his freedom at this time," Pizarro replied, "would be
certain destruction to us all."
"That may be," responded De Soto, "but that should have been
considered before he was admitted to ransom."
"But since that agreement was made," said Pizarro, "I have received
information which justifies me in changing my intentions.
Attahuallapa's officers, acting under his directions, are now engaged
in exciting an insurrection for the extermination of the Spaniards."
De Soto had no faith whatever in this accusation. There was a long and
angry controversy. Pizarro called in his interpreter Filipillo, who
was undoubtedly bribed to testify according to the wishes of his
master. He declared that the Inca was organizing this conspiracy. De
Soto was unconvinced. He still regarded the accusation as a groundless
calumny.
Finally they came to a compromise. The treacherous and wily Pizarro
suggested that De Soto should take a party of dragoons and proceed to
that section of the country, where it was said the conspirators were
assembling in vast numbers, in preparation for their onset upon the
Spaniards. If De Soto found no indication of such a movement, Pizarro
gave his solemn pledge, that immediately upon his return, he would
release Attahuallapa. De Soto agreed to the arrangement, and at once
set out on the journey.
Pizarro had thus accomplished his object, of being relieved of the
embarrassment of De Soto's presence, while he should lead the Inca to
his execution. A sort of council of war was held, though Attahuallapa
was not present, and nothing was heard in his defence. It was
necessary to proceed with the utmost expedition, as De Soto would soon
return. The horrible verdict of the court was, that the captive should
be burned to death at the stake. Pizarro himself, it is said, carried
the terrible intelligence to the prisoner.
The Inca, a young man in the very prime of life, being but thirty
years of age, was horror stricken, and for some time sat in silence,
not uttering a word. And then turning to Pizarro, he said:
"Is it possible that you can believe in a God and fear him, and yet
dare to commit such an act of injustice? What have I done to deserve
death in any form, and why have you condemned me to a death so unusual
and painful. Surely you cannot intend to execute this cruel sentence."
Pizarro assured him that the decree of the court was unalterable, and
must immediately be carried into effect.
"Think of the wrong you have already done me," said the Inca, "and do
not forget how much you are indebted to my kindness and forbearance. I
could easily have intercepted you in the mountain passes, and made you
all prisoners, or sacrificed you all justly to the offended laws of my
country. I could have overpowered you with my armed warriors at
Caxamarca. But I failed in my duty to my people in receiving you as
friends. You have robbed me of my kingdom and compelled me to insult
my Deity, by stripping his temples to satisfy your avarice.
"Of all my possessions, you have left me nothing but my life, and that
I supposed you would be willing to spare me, since you can gain
nothing by taking it away. Consider how hard it is for me to die, so
suddenly and without any warning of my danger. I have lived but thirty
years, and until very lately, I had every reason to hope for a long
and happy life. My prospects for happiness are blighted forever. But I
will not complain of that, if you will permit me to live out the term
which God and nature have allotted me."
The execution was to take place immediately. Pizarro waited only for
the sun to go down, that darkness might shroud the fiendlike deed. As
they were talking Pizarro's chaplain, Friar Vincent, came in to
prepare the victim for the sacrifice. He was dressed in his
ecclesiastical robes, and bore in his hand a large crucifix. Was he an
unmitigated knave, or was he a fanatic? Who but God can tell.
"It is time for you," said he, "to withdraw your thoughts from earthly
vanities and fix them upon the realities of the eternal world. You are
justly condemned to death, for your infidelity and other sins. I call
on you to accept the free gift of salvation which I now offer you, so
that you may escape the greater punishment of eternal fire."
The Inca seemed to pay little heed to these words, but with a gesture
of impatience and anger, exclaimed:
"Oh, where is De Soto? He is a good man, and he is my friend. Surely
he will not allow me to be thus murdered."
"De Soto," the priest replied, "is far away. No earthly help can avail
you. Receive the consolations of the Church; kiss the feet of this
image, and I will absolve you from your sins, and prepare you to enter
the kingdom of Heaven."
"I worship the Maker of all things," the Inca firmly replied. "As much
as I desire to live, I will not forsake the faith of my fathers to
prolong my life."
Two hours after sunset, the sound of the trumpet assembled the Spanish
soldiers by torchlight in the great square of Caxamarca. It was the
evening of the twenty-ninth of August, 1533. The clanking of chains
was heard as the victim, manacled hand and foot, toiled painfully over
the stone pavement of the square. He was bound by chains to the stake;
the combustible fagots were piled up around him. Friar Vincent then,
it is said, holding up the cross before the victim, told him that if
he would embrace Christianity he should be spared the cruel death by
the flames, and experience in its stead only the painless death of the
garotte, and that the Inca did, while thus chained to the stake,
abjure his religion and receive the rite of baptism. In reference to
this representation Mr. Lambert A. Wilmer, in his admirable life of
Ferdinand De Soto, says:
"As the traducers of the dead Inca were permitted to tell
their own story without fear of contradiction, it is
impossible to assign any limits to their fabrications. And
their testimony is probable, only when it tends to criminate
themselves. Perhaps the greatest injustice which these
slanderers have done to Attahuallapa's memory, was by
pretending that he became an apostate to his own religion
and a convert to Catholicism just before his death.
"If this story were true, how could Pizarro justify himself,
or how could the Pope and the king of Spain excuse him for
putting a Christian to death on account of sins committed by
an infidel. Surely the royal penitent, when he entered the
pale of the Holy Catholic Church, would be entitled to a
free pardon for those errors of conduct which were
incidental to his unregenerate condition. We are told that
when the Inca had consented to be baptized by Father
Vincent, Pizarro graciously commuted his sentence, and
allowed him to be strangled before his body was reduced to
ashes."
These fictions were doubtless contrived to illustrate Pizarro's
clemency, and Father Vincent's apostolic success.
The probability is, as others state, that the Inca remained firm to
the end; the torch was applied, and while the consuming flames
wreathed around him, he uttered no cry. In this chariot of fire the
spirit of this deeply outraged man was borne to the judgment of God.
De Soto soon returned. He was almost frantic with indignation when he
learned of the crime which had been perpetrated in his absence, and
perceived that his mission was merely an artifice to get him out of
the way. His rage blazed forth in the most violent reproaches.
Hastening to the tent of Pizarro, he rudely pushed aside a sentinel
who guarded the entrance, and found the culprit seated on a low stool,
affecting the attitude of a mourner. A large slouched hat was bent
over his eyes.
"Uncover yourself;" said De Soto, "unless you are ashamed to look a
human being in the face." Then with the point of his sword he struck
off his hat, exclaiming:
"Is it not enough that I have disgraced myself in the eyes of the
world by becoming your companion and confederate, making myself
accessory to your crimes, and protecting you from the punishment you
deserve. Have you not heaped infamy enough upon me, without
dishonoring me by the violation of my pledges, and exposing me to the
suspicion of being connected with the most cruel and causeless murder
that ever set human laws and divine justice at defiance? I have
ascertained, what you well knew before I left Caxamarca, that the
report of the insurrection was utterly false. I have met nothing on
the road but demonstrations of good will. The whole country is quiet,
and Attahuallapa has been basely slandered. You, Francisco Pizarro,
are his slanderer, and you are his murderer.
"To prove that I have had no participation in the deed, I will make
you accountable for his death. Craven and prevaricating villain as you
are, you shall not escape this responsibility. If you refuse to meet
me in honorable combat, I will denounce you to the king of Spain as a
criminal, and will proclaim you to the whole world as a coward and an
assassin."
Pizarro was both, an assassin and a coward. He stood in awe of his
intrepid lieutenant. He did not dare to meet him in a personal
rencontre, and he well knew that De Soto was not a man to be taken by
force or guile, as he could immediately rally around him the whole
body of his well-drilled dragoons. He therefore began to make excuses,
admitted that he had acted hastily, and endeavored to throw the blame
upon others, declaring that by their false representations they had
forced him to the act.
In the midst of the dispute, Pizarro's brothers--for there were two in
the camp--entered the tent. De Soto, addressing the three, said:
"I am the champion of Attahuallapa. I accuse Francisco Pizarro of
being his murderer." Then throwing his glove upon the floor, he
continued:
"I invite any man who is disposed to deny that Francisco Pizarro is a
coward and an assassin, to take it up."
The glove remained untouched. De Soto turned upon his heel
contemptuously, and left the tent, resolved, it is said, no longer to
have any connection whatever with such perfidious wretches. He
immediately resigned his commission as lieutenant-general and
announced his determination to return to Spain. But alas, for human
frailty and inconsistency, he was to take with him the five hundred
thousand dollars of treasure of which the Peruvians had been
ruthlessly despoiled. Perhaps he reasoned with himself,
"What can I do with it. The Inca is dead. It would not be wise to
throw it into the streets, and I surely am not bound to contribute it
to the already enormous wealth of Pizarro."
Another source of embarrassment arose. Reinforcements to the number of
two hundred men had just arrived at Caxamarca, under Almagro. They
had been sent forward from Panama, commissioned by the king of Spain
to join the enterprise. The whole number of Spanish soldiers,
assembled in the heart of the Peruvian empire, now amounted to about
five hundred. Mountain ridges rose between them and the sea-coast, in
whose almost impassable defiles a few hundred resolute men might
arrest the advance of an army. The Peruvians had a standing force of
fifty thousand soldiers. The whole population of the country was
roused to the highest pitch of indignation. They were everywhere
grasping their arms. Nothing but the most consummate prudence could
rescue the Spaniards from their perilous position. The danger was
imminent, that they would be utterly exterminated.
For De Soto, under these circumstances, to abandon his comrades, and
retire from the field, would seem an act of cowardice. He had no
confidence in the ability of the Pizarros to rescue the Spaniards. He
therefore judged that duty to his king and his countrymen demanded of
him that he should remain in Peru, until he could leave the army in a
safe condition.
Pizarro did not venture to resent the reproaches and defiance of De
Soto, but immediately prepared to avail himself of his military
abilities, in a march of several hundred miles south to Cuzco, the
capital of the empire. With characteristic treachery, Pizarro seized
one of the most distinguished nobles of the Peruvian court, and held
him as a hostage. This nobleman, named Chalcukima, had occupied some
of the highest posts of honor in the kingdom, and was greatly revered
and beloved by the Peruvians. Pizarro sent far and wide the
announcement, that upon the slightest movement of hostility on the
part of the natives, Chalcukima would be put to death.
The Spaniards now set out on their long march. It was in the month of
September, 1533, one of the most lovely months in that attractive
clime. But for the rapine, carnage and violence of war, such a tour
through the enchanting valley of the Cordilleras, in the midst of
fruits and flowers, and bird songs, and traversing populous villages
inhabited by a gentle and amiable people, would have been an
enterprise full of enjoyment. But the path of these demoniac men was
marked by the ravages of fiends. And notwithstanding the great
embarrassments in which De Soto found himself involved, it is very
difficult to find any excuse for him, in allowing himself to be one of
their number.
Francisco Pizarro led the band. His brother Hernando, De Soto, and
Almagro, were his leading captains. But it was the genius of De Soto
alone, with his highly disciplined dragoons, which conducted the
enterprise to a successful issue. He led the advance; he was always
sent to every point of danger; his sword opened the path, through
which Pizarro followed with his vagabond and plundering crew.
In trembling solicitude for his own safety, Pizarro not only held
Chalcukima as a hostage, but he also seized upon Topaxpa, the young,
feeble and grief-stricken son of the murdered Attahuallapa, and
declared him to be, by legitimate right, the successor to the throne.
Thus he still had the Inca in his power. The Peruvians were still
accustomed to regard the Inca with almost religious homage. Topaxpa
was compelled to issue such commands as Pizarro gave to him. Thus an
additional element of embarrassment was thrown into the ranks of the
Peruvians. Communication between different parts of the empire was
extremely difficult and slow. There were no mails and no horses. This
gave the mounted Spaniards a vast advantage over their bewildered
victims.
For several days the Spanish army moved delightfully along, through a
series of luxuriant valleys, where the secluded people had scarcely
heard of their arrival in the country. The movement of the glittering
host was one of the most wonderful pageants which Peruvian eyes had
ever beheld. A multitude of men, women and children, thronged the
highway, gazing with curiosity and admiration upon the scene, and
astonished by the clatter of the hoofs of the horses upon the
flag-stones, with which the national road was so carefully paved.
During these few days of peaceful travel the natives presented no
opposition to the march, and the presence of De Soto seemed to
restrain the whole army from deeds of ruffianly violence. Whenever
Pizarro wished to engage in any of his acts of villany, he was always
careful first to send De Soto away on some important mission.
They were now approaching a deep and rapid mountain stream, where the
bridge had either been carried away by the recent flood or had been
destroyed by the Peruvians. They were also informed that quite a large
army was gathered upon the opposite bank to arrest, with the aid of
the rushing torrent, the farther advance of the Spaniards. Pizarro
immediately ordered a halt. De Soto, with a hundred horsemen, was sent
forward to reconnoitre, and, if possible, to open the path. Almagro,
with two hundred footmen, followed closely behind to support the
cavalry.
De Soto, without paying much attention to his infantry allies, pressed
so rapidly forward as soon to leave them far behind. He reached the
river. It was a swollen mountain torrent. Several thousand natives,
brandishing their javelins and their war clubs, stood upon the
opposite bank of the stream. De Soto and his horsemen, without a
moment's hesitation, plunged into the stream, and some by swimming and
some by fording, soon crossed the foaming waters. As the war horses,
with their steel-clad riders, came rushing upon the Peruvians, their
keen swords flashing in the sunlight, a large part of the army fled in
great terror. It seemed to them that supernatural foes had descended
for their destruction.
A few remained, and fought with the energies of despair. But they were
powerless before the trampling horses and the sharp weapons of their
foes. They were cut down mercilessly, and it was the genius of De Soto
which guided in the carnage, and the strong arm of De Soto which led
in the bloody fray. And we must not forget that these Peruvians were
fighting for their lives, their liberty, their all; and that these
Spaniards were ruthless invaders. Neither can we greatly admire the
heroism displayed by the assailants. The man who is carefully gloved
and masked can with impunity rob the bees of their honey. The wolf
does not need much courage to induce him to leap into the fold of the
lambs.
In the vicinity of this routed army there was a pagan temple; that is,
a temple dedicated to the Sun, the emblem of the God of the
Peruvians. It was in those days thought that the heathen and all their
possessions, rightly belonged to the Christians; that it was the just
desert of the pagans to be plundered and put to death. Even the mind
of De Soto was so far in accord with these infamous doctrines of a
benighted age, that he allowed his troopers to plunder the temple of
all its rich treasures of silver and of gold. A very large amount of
booty was thus obtained. One of the principal ornaments of this temple
was an artificial sun, of large size, composed of pure and solid gold.
Mr. Wilmer, speaking of this event, judiciously remarks:
"De Soto, finding his path once more unobstructed, pushed
forward, evidently disposed to open the way to Cuzco without
the assistance of his tardy and irresolute commander. It is
a remarkable fact, and one which admits of no denial, that
every important military movement of the Spaniards in Peru,
until the final subjugation of the empire by the capture of
the metropolis, was conducted by De Soto. Up to the time to
which our narrative now refers, Pizarro had never fought a
single battle which deserved the name. The bloody tragedy of
Caxamarca, it will be remembered, was only massacre; the
contrivance and execution of which required no military
skill and no soldier-like courage. Pizarro acquired the
mastery of Peru by the act of a malefactor. And he was, in
fact, a thief and not a conqueror. The _heroic_ element of
this conquest is represented by the actions of De Soto."
CHAPTER VIII.
_De Soto Returns to Spain._
Dreadful Fate of Chalcukima.--His Fortitude.--Ignominy of
Pizarro.--De Soto's Advance upon Cuzco.--The Peruvian
Highway.--Battle in the Defile.--De Soto takes the
Responsibility.--Capture of the Capital and its
Conflagration.--De Soto's Return to Spain.--His Reception
there.--Preparations for the Conquest of Florida.
Considering the relations which existed between De Soto and Pizarro,
it is not improbable that each was glad to be released from the
presence of the other. It is very certain that so soon as De Soto was
gone, Pizarro, instead of hurrying forward to support him in the
hazardous encounters to which he was exposed, immediately engaged,
with the main body of his army, in plundering all the mansions of the
wealthy and the temples on their line of march. And it is equally
certain that De Soto, instead of waiting for the troops of Pizarro to
come up, put spurs to his horse and pressed on, as if he were anxious
to place as great a distance as possible between himself and his
superior in command.
Though De Soto had allowed his troops to plunder the temple of Xauxa,
he would allow no robbery of private dwellings, and rigidly prohibited
the slightest act of violence or injustice towards the persons of the
natives.
It will be remembered that Pizarro had threatened to hold Chalcukima
responsible for any act of hostility on the part of the Peruvians. He
now summoned his captive before him, and charged him with treason;
accusing him of having incited his countrymen to measures of
resistance. Chalcukima, with dignity and firmness which indicate a
noble character, replied:
"If it had been possible for me to communicate with the people, I
should certainly have advised them to do their duty to their country,
without any regard to my personal safety. But you well know that the
vigilance with which you have guarded me, has prevented me from making
any communication of the kind. I am sorry that it has not been in my
power to be guilty of the fact with which you charge me."
The wretched Pizarro, utterly incapable of appreciating the grandeur
of such a character, ordered him to be burned at the stake. The
fanatic robber and murderer, insulting the cross of Christ, by calling
himself a Christian, sent his private chaplain, Friar Vincent, to
convert Chalcukima to what he called the Christian faith. The priest
gave an awful description of the glooms of hell, to which the prisoner
was destined as a heathen. In glowing colors he depicted the
splendors of the celestial Eden, to which he would be admitted the
moment after his execution if he would accept the Christian faith. The
captive coldly replied:
"I do not understand your religion, and all that I have seen of it
does not impress me in its favor."
He was led to the stake. Not a cry escaped his lips, as the fierce
flames consumed his quivering flesh. From that scene of short, sharp
agony, we trust that his spirit ascended to be folded in the embrace
of his Heavenly Father. It is a fundamental principle in the teachings
of Jesus, that in every nation he that feareth God, and doeth
righteousness, is accepted of him. But God's ways here on earth are
indeed past all finding out. Perhaps the future will solve the
dreadful mystery, but at present, as we contemplate man's inhumanity
to man, our eyes are often blinded with tears, and our hearts sink
despairingly within us.
De Soto pressed rapidly onwards, league after league, over sublime
eminences and through luxuriant vales. The road was admirable: smooth
and clean as a floor. It was constructed only for foot passengers, as
the Peruvians had no animals larger than the lama or sheep. This
advance-guard of the Spanish army, all well mounted, and inspired by
the energies of their impetuous chief, soon reached a point where the
road led over a mountain by steps cut in the solid rock, steep as a
flight of stairs. Precipitous cliffs rose hundreds of feet on either
side. Here it was necessary for the troopers to dismount, and
carefully to lead their horses by the bit up the difficult ascent.
The road was winding and irregular, leading through the most savage
scenery. This pass, at its summit, opened upon smooth table-land,
luxuriant and beautiful under the influence of a tropical sun and
mountain showers and dews. About half way up this pass, upon almost
inaccessible crags, several thousand Peruvians had assembled to make
another attempt at resistance. Arrows and javelins were of but little
avail. Indeed they always rebounded from the armor of the Spaniards as
from the ledges of eternal rock.
But the natives had abundantly provided themselves with enormous
stones to roll down upon the heads of men and horses. Quite a band of
armed men were also assembled upon the open plain at the head of the
pass. As the Spaniards were almost dragging their horses up the gorge,
suddenly the storm of war burst upon them. Showers of stone descended
from the cliff from thousands of unseen hands. Huge boulders were
pried over and went thundering down, crashing all opposition before
them. It seems now incomprehensible why the whole squadron of
horsemen was not destroyed. But in this awful hour the self-possession
of De Soto did not for one moment forsake him. He shouted to his men:
"If we halt here, or attempt to go back, we must certainly perish. Our
only safety is in pressing forward. As soon as we reach the top of the
pass, we can easily put these men to flight."
Suiting his action to his words, and being at the head of his men, he
pushed forward with almost frantic energy, carefully watching and
avoiding the descending missiles. Though several horses and many men
were killed, and others sorely wounded, the majority soon reached the
head of the pass. They then had an unobstructed plain before them,
over which their horses could gallop in any direction at their utmost
speed.
Impetuously they fell upon the band collected there, who wielded only
the impotent weapons of arrows, javelins and war clubs. The Spaniards,
exasperated by the death of their comrades, and by their own wounds,
took desperate vengeance. No quarter was shown. Their sabres dripped
with blood. Few could escape the swift-footed steeds. The dead were
trampled beneath iron hoofs. Night alone ended the carnage.
During the night the Peruvians bravely rallied from their wide
dispersion over the mountains, resolved in their combined force to
make another attempt to resist their foes. They were conscious that
should they fail here, their case was hopeless.
At the commencement of the conflict a courier had been sent back, by
De Soto, to urge Almagro to push forward his infantry as rapidly as
possible. By a forced march they pressed on through the hours of the
night, almost upon the run. The early dawn brought them to the pass.
Soon the heart of De Soto was cheered as he heard their bugle blasts
reverberating among the cliffs of the mountains. Their banners
appeared emerging from the defile, and two hundred well-armed men
joined his ranks.
Though the Peruvians were astonished at this accession to the number
of their foes, they still came bravely forward to the battle. It was
another scene of slaughter for the poor Peruvians. They inflicted but
little harm upon the Spaniards, while hundreds of their slain soon
strewed the ground.
The Spanish infantry, keeping safely beyond the reach of arrow or
javelin, could, with the deadly bullet, bring down a Peruvian as fast
as they could load and fire, while the horsemen could almost with
impunity plunge into the densest ranks of the foe. The Peruvians were
vanquished, dispersed, and cut down, until the Spaniards even were
weary with carnage. This was the most important battle which was
fought in the conquest of Peru.
The field was but twenty-five miles from the capital, to which the
army could now advance by an almost unobstructed road. De Soto was
anxious to press on immediately and take possession of the city. He
however yielded to the earnest entreaties of Almagro, and consented to
remain where he was with his band of marauders. This delay, in a
military point of view, proved to be very unfortunate. Had they gone
immediately forward, the vanquished and panic-stricken Peruvians would
not have ventured upon another encounter. But Almagro was the friend
of Pizarro, dependent upon him, and had been his accomplice in many a
deed of violence. He was anxious that Pizarro should have the renown
of a conqueror, and should enjoy the triumph of riding at the head of
his troops into the streets of the vanquished capital.
This delay of several days gave the Peruvians time to recover from
their consternation, and they organized another formidable line of
defense in a valley which the Spaniards would be compelled to
traverse, a few miles from the city. Pizarro was still several miles
in the rear. De Soto dispatched a courier to him, informing him of the
new encounter to which the army was exposed, and stating that the
Peruvians were well posted, and that every hour of delay added to
their strength. Still Pizarro loitered behind; still Almagro expressed
his decided reluctance to advance before Pizarro's arrival. To add to
De Soto's embarrassments, he declared that De Soto was acting without
authority and in direct opposition to the orders of his superior.
After a little hesitancy De Soto resolved to take the responsibility
and to advance. He said to Almagro:
"A soldier who is entrusted with an important command, is not bound in
all cases to await the orders of his superior. Where there is
manifestly an important advantage to be gained, he must be allowed to
act according to his own discretion."
He then appealed to his own dragoons, saying to them:
"The whole success of our expedition now depends upon the celerity of
our movements. While we are waiting for Pizarro, our best chance for
victory will be lost."
With one united voice the dragoons of De Soto demanded to be led
forward. Availing himself of this enthusiasm, De Soto put his troops
in motion. The Peruvians were a few miles in advance, strongly posted
in a deep and rugged ravine, where they hoped that the movements of
the horses would be so impeded that they could accomplish but little.
They pressed forward, and the battle was immediately commenced. Both
parties fought with great fury. In the midst of the conflict a large
reinforcement of the natives came rushing upon the field, under the
leadership of a young Peruvian noble, who displayed truly chivalric
courage and energy. De Soto was ever where the blows fell thickest and
where danger was most imminent.
Quite a number of the Peruvians were slain, and many dead horses were
strewed over the field. At one time De Soto, separated from his
comrades by the surging tides of the battle, found himself surrounded
by twenty Peruvians, who, with arrows, javelins and battle clubs,
assailed him with the utmost impetuosity. Javelins and arrows glanced
harmless from the Spanish armor. But war clubs, armed with copper and
wielded by sinewy arms, were formidable weapons even for the belted
knight to encounter. De Soto, with his keen and ponderous sword, cut
his way through his assailants, strewing the ground with the dead. The
young Peruvian, who, it is said, was heir to the throne of the Inca,
had assumed the general command.
He gazed with astonishment upon the exploits of De Soto, and said in
despairing tones to his attendants: "It is useless to contend with
such enemies! These men are destined to be our masters."
Immediately he approached De Soto, throwing down his arms, advancing
alone, and indicating by gestures that he was ready to surrender. The
battle at once ceased, and most of the Peruvian army rushed
precipitately back towards the city. In a state of frenzy they applied
the torch in all directions, resolved to thwart the avarice of the
conqueror by laying the whole city and all its treasures in ashes. The
inhabitants of Cuzco, almost without exception, fled. Each one seized
upon whatever of value could be carried away. Volumes of smoke and the
bursting flames soon announced to the Spaniards the doom of the city.
De Soto and his dragoons put spurs to their horses and hastened
forward, hoping to extinguish the conflagration. Now that the battle
was fought and the victory won, Francisco Pizarro, with his band of
miscreants, came rushing on to seize the plunder.
"They came like wolves or jackals to fatten on the prey
which never could have been attained by their own courage or
prowess. The disappointment of Pizarro and his congenial
associates, when they found that the principal wealth of the
city had been carried off by the Peruvians, vented itself in
acts of diabolical cruelty. They seized on the aged and sick
persons who had been unable to escape, and put many of them
to the torture to make them confess where the treasures of
Cuzco were concealed. Either these unfortunate people could
not give the information required, or they had sufficient
firmness to endure agony and death rather than betray the
consecrated treasures of their national monuments and altars
into the hands of their enemies."[A]
[Footnote A: Life of Ferdinand De Soto, by Lambert A. Wilmer, p. 272.]
It was late in the afternoon of a November day, 1533, when the
dragoons of De Soto, closely followed by the whole Spanish army,
entered the burning streets of Cuzco. They ran about eagerly in all
directions searching for gold in the blazing palaces and temples. Thus
an immense amount of spoil was found, which the Peruvians had been
unable to remove. It is said that after one-fifth had been subtracted
for the Spanish crown, and the officers had received their abundant
shares, the common soldiers, four hundred and eighty in number,
received each one a sum amounting to four thousand dollars.
Peru was conquered, but the victors had indeed gained a loss. Nearly
all who were engaged in the enterprise perished miserably. Almagro was
eventually taken captive by the Peruvians and strangled. Hernando
Pizarro, returning to Spain, languished for weary years in a prison.
The younger brother was beheaded. Friar Vincent, who had given the
support of religion to many of the most atrocious of these crimes,
fell into an ambush with a small party, and they all were massacred.
Francisco Pizarro himself fell a victim to a conspiracy among his own
soldiers, and at mid-day was put to death in his own palace. But we
must leave these wild men to their career of cruelty and crime, while
we follow the footsteps of De Soto.
Early in the year 1534, De Soto took leave of his comrades in Peru,
and embarked for Spain. He had left his native land in poverty. He now
returned after an absence of about fifteen years, greatly enriched,
prepared in opulence as well as in illustrious birth to take his stand
with the proudest grandees of that then opulent realm. His last labors
in Peru were spent in unavailing endeavors to humanize the spirit of
his countrymen there, and to allay the bitter feuds which were
springing up among them. But his departure seemed to remove from them
all restraints, and Spaniards and Peruvians alike were whelmed in a
common ruin.
No account has been transmitted to us of De Soto's return voyage.
While he was in Peru, Don Pedro had died. His sick-bed was a scene of
lingering agony, both of body and of mind. The proud spirit is
sometimes vanquished and crushed by remorse; but it is never, by those
scorpion lashes, subdued, and rendered humble and gentle and lovable.
The dying sinner, whose soul was crimsoned with guilt, was
overwhelmed with "a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery
indignation." The ecclesiastics, who surrounded his death-bed, assured
him that such sins as he had been guilty of could only be expiated by
the most liberal benefactions to the church. He had never forgiven
Isabella for her pertinacious adherence to De Soto. In the grave he
could not prohibit their nuptials. By bequeathing his wealth to the
church, he could accomplish a double object. He could gratify his
revenge by leaving his daughter penniless, and thus De Soto, if he
continued faithful, would be compelled to receive to his arms a
dowerless bride; and a miserable superstition taught him that he could
thus bribe God to throw open to him the gates of paradise.
Don Pedro's eldest daughter, Maria, was engaged to be married to Vasco
Nuñez, the very worthy governor who had preceded Don Pedro at Darien,
and whom he had so infamously beheaded. She had spent fifteen years in
her father's castle in the gloom and tears of this cruel widowhood.
Don Pedro bequeathed nearly all his fortune to the endowment of a
monastery, over which Maria was appointed abbess. Isabella was left
unprovided for. Thus suddenly the relative position of the two lovers
was entirely changed. De Soto found himself in possession of large
wealth. Isabella was reduced to poverty. We know not where to find,
in the annals of history, the record of a more beautiful attachment
than that which, during fifteen years of separation, trial, and sorest
temptations, had united the hearts of De Soto and Isabella. Their love
commenced when they were children, walking hand in hand, and playing
in the bowers of Don Pedro's ancestral castle.
De Soto had now attained the age of thirty-five years. Isabella was
only a few years younger. When we contemplate her youth, her beauty,
the long years of absence, without even a verbal message passing
between them, the deadly hostility of her father to the union, and the
fact that her hand had been repeatedly solicited by the most wealthy
of the Spanish nobility, this fidelity of Isabella to her youthful
love is one of the most remarkable in the records of time.
"During the long separation," says Mr. Wilmer, "of these
exemplary lovers, many important changes had taken place.
Time and sorrow had somewhat dimmed the lustre of Isabella's
beauty. But she was still the fairest among ten thousand, and
De Soto was too deeply enamored and too justly appreciative
to value her the less, because the rose had partially faded
from her cheek."
Immediately upon De Soto's return to Spain, as all obstacles to their
union were removed, the nuptial ceremony was performed. The voice of
fame had already proclaimed De Soto as the real conqueror of Peru. As
such, he had not only enriched himself, but had also greatly enriched
the Spanish crown. All eyes were fixed upon him. It is said that at
once he became the most noted and most popular man in the kingdom. He
and his bride were received at the Spanish court with the most
flattering marks of distinction. In his style of living he assumed
almost regal splendor. He had acquired his money very suddenly, and he
lavished it with an unsparing hand. A contemporary annalist writes:
"He kept a steward, a gentleman usher, several pages, a
gentleman of the horse, a chamberlain, a footman, and all
other officers that the house of a nobleman requires."
One of the most splendid mansions in Seville he selected for his
residence, and in less than two years he found that one-half of his
princely fortune had melted away. They were two years of adulation, of
self-indulgence, of mental intoxication. It was a delirious dream from
which he suddenly awoke. Reflection taught him that he must
immediately curtail his expenses, and very seriously, or engage in
some new enterprise to replenish his wasting purse.
The region of North America called Florida, a territory of undefined
and boundless extent, was then attracting much attention as a fresh
field for the acquisition of gold and glory. Several expeditions had
touched upon the unknown coast, but from various causes had proved
entire failures. Eight years before this De Narvaez had visited the
country with three hundred adventurers. He found the natives far more
warlike than the Peruvians, and the country more difficult of access.
De Narvaez himself, and nearly all his band, fell before the fury of
the Floridians. Five only escaped. One of these, Cabaca de Vaca, a man
of glowing imagination, and who held the pen of a ready writer, wrote
a Baron Munchausen account of the expedition. He descanted upon the
delicious clime, the luxuriant soil, the populous cities, the
architectural splendor of the edifices, and the inexhaustible mines of
silver and of gold. There was no one to call his account in question.
His extravagant stories were generally believed.
De Soto, who was in the prime of his vigorous manhood, having as yet
only attained his thirty-seventh year, read this narrative and
pondered these statements with enthusiasm. A couple of years of
inaction in his luxurious saloons had inspired him with new zeal for
romantic adventure; and to this there was added the powerful motive of
the necessity of retrieving his fortunes. He believed that gold could
be gathered in Florida, even more abundantly than in Peru; that by
the aid of the crown a numerous colony might be established where,
under genial skies, every man could be put into possession of broad
acres of the most luxuriant soil. And he felt fully confident that his
long experience on the isthmus and in Peru, qualified him in the
highest degree to be the leader of such an enterprise.
In these views he was sustained by the common sentiment of the whole
community. De Soto applied to the king of Spain, the Emperor Charles
Fifth, for permission to organize an expedition, at his own expense,
for the conquest of Florida. He offered to the crown, as usual for its
share, one-fifth of the plunder.
Eagerly the Emperor, who was always in need of money, accepted the
proposition, "asking no questions, for conscience sake." The Emperor
was very profuse in conferring honors and titles upon his heroic
subject. He appointed him governor of the island of Cuba, which he was
to make the base of his operations, investing him with almost
dictatorial powers as both military and civil governor. He also
granted him a private estate in Florida, with the title of marquis, in
whatever part of the country he might choose. This magnificent estate
was to consist of a region, ninety miles long and forty-five miles
wide.
As soon as it was known throughout Spain that De Soto was about to
embark on such an enterprise, volunteers began to flock to his
standard. He would accept of none but the most vigorous young men,
whom he deemed capable of enduring the extremes of toil and hardship.
In a few months nine hundred and fifty men were assembled at San
Lucar, eager to embark. Many of these were sons of the wealthy nobles,
who were thoroughly equipped in splendid style, with costly armor, and
accompanied by a train of servants.
Twenty-four ecclesiastics, of various grades, joined the expedition,
whose arduous task it was to convert the natives to that religion of
the Spaniards which allowed them to rob their houses and their
temples, to maltreat their wives and daughters, to set fire to their
villages, to hunt them down with bloodhounds, and to trample them
under the iron hoofs of their fiery steeds.
Never before had an expedition set out so abundantly supplied. Not
only was every necessity provided for, but luxury and even wasteful
extravagance reigned through the armament. De Soto himself was a man
of magnificent tastes. Many who were with him in Peru, and had become
there enriched, had joined the enterprise. And the young nobles of
Spain surrounded themselves with the conveniences and splendor which
large wealth could furnish.
CHAPTER IX.
_The Landing in Florida._
The Departure from Spain.--Arrival in Cuba.--Leonora and
Tobar.--Isabella Invested with the Regency.--Sad Life of
Isabella.--Sailing of the Expedition.--The Landing at
Tampa Bay.--Outrages of Narvaez.--Noble Spirit of
Ucita.--Unsuccessful Enterprises.--Disgrace and Return
of Porcallo.
The brilliant armament spread its sails to a favorable breeze at the
port of San Lucar, on the morning of the sixth of April, 1538. The
squadron consisted of seven large ships, and three smaller vessels. It
must have been an imposing and busy scene in that little bay, upon
which the sun looked serenely down three hundred years ago. In
addition to the Floridian fleet, there was another squadron of
twenty-six sail, at the same time weighing anchor, bound for Mexico.
Bugle peals resounded from ship and shore, while salvoes of artillery
swept over the waves and reverberated among the cliffs.
Isabella accompanied her husband, and quite an imposing train of
attendants was attached to the governor's family. The sail of a
fortnight brought them to the Canary Islands. The Count Gomera, a
Spanish nobleman, was in command. No religious scruples lent their
restraints to his luxurious court. He had a very beautiful daughter,
seventeen years of age, named Leonora. The father loved her tenderly.
He was perhaps anxious to shield her from the deleterious influences
with which she was surrounded. The high moral worth of Isabella
impressed him; and arrangements were made for Leonora to accompany
Isabella to Cuba, as a companion, to be treated in all respects as her
own daughter.
On the twenty-fourth of April the fleet again set sail, and reached
St. Jago de Cuba the latter part of May. This city was then the
capital of the island. It was situated on the southern shore, at the
head of a bay running inland about six miles. It was then quite
populous, and was opulent with the wealth of which previous Spanish
adventurers had robbed the unhappy Cubans. The whole city turned out
with music, and banners and gorgeous processions, to give a suitable
reception to their new governor.
A grand tournament was held on the occasion. Among the cavaliers who
were contending for the prizes there was a young nobleman, Nuño de
Tobar, who was De Soto's lieutenant-general. He was one of the most
accomplished of the Spanish grandees, and bore off many of the prizes.
The beauty of Leonora won his admiration. They were thrown much
together, and he betrayed her. At the confessional Leonora opened her
heart to the priest. It is probable that he communicated with the
governor. De Soto's indignation was thoroughly roused. He summoned the
culprit before him. Tobar, deeming his offense a very trivial one,
without hesitation acknowledged it, thinking, perhaps, that he might
receive some slight reprimand. He was not a little surprised when the
governor said in indignant tones:
"Leonora was placed under my care by her father. I pledged myself to
protect her at the hazard of my own life. To-morrow morning you must
meet me in single combat, where you will have a chance to protect the
life you have justly forfeited."
There was no man probably, in the whole Spanish army, who could safely
cross swords with De Soto in mortal strife. Tobar was appalled. He
well knew that in such a rencontre death was his inevitable doom.
Overwhelmed with confusion, he said:
"I have not committed a capital crime. If I had, I should not expect
your Excellency to be my executioner. It is impossible for me to
contend with you in single combat. By accepting your challenge, I doom
myself to certain destruction."
De Soto replied: "Your crime is not a trivial one. You cannot evade
the consequences by refusing to meet them. To say nothing of the wrong
you have done this unhappy girl, your treachery to me deserves the
punishment of a traitor. You may choose whether you will die like a
soldier, sword in hand, or like a criminal, under the axe of the
executioner."
Tobar withdrew. He hastened to the room of the confessor. With him he
called upon Leonora, and, taking a few witnesses, repaired to the
church, where the marriage ceremony was immediately performed. Within
an hour he returned to the governor and informed him that he had made
all the reparation in his power. De Soto, his brow still clouded with
severe displeasure, replied:
"You have saved your life, but you can never regain my confidence. You
are no longer my lieutenant. That office can be held only by one whose
honor is unsullied."
De Soto remained about three months in Cuba, making a tour of the
island, establishing his government, purchasing horses, and making
other preparations for the expedition to Florida. While thus engaged,
he sent a vessel, with a picked crew, to coast along the shores of the
land he was about to invade, in search of a commodious harbor, where
his troops might disembark. After many perilous adventures, the vessel
returned with a satisfactory report.
The fleet, and all the armament it was to bear, were rendezvoused at
Havana, on the northern coast of Cuba, where a fair wind in a few
hours would convey them to the shores of Florida. On the twelfth of
May, some authorities say the eighteenth, of the year 1539, the
expedition set sail upon one of the most disastrous adventures in
which heroic men ever engaged. Terrible as were the woes they
inflicted upon the natives, no less dreadful were the calamities which
they drew down upon themselves.
Isabella had been anxious to accompany her husband to Florida. But he,
aware of the hardships and perils to which they would be exposed,
would not give his consent. She consequently remained at Cuba,
entrusted with the regency of the island. She never saw her husband
again. Poor Isabella! In sadness she had waited fifteen years for her
nuptials. Two short years had glided away like a dream in the night.
And then, after three years of intense anxiety, during which she heard
almost nothing of her husband, the tidings reached her of his death.
It was a fatal blow to her faithful and loving heart. World-weary and
sorrow-crushed, she soon followed him to the spirit-land. Such is
life; not as God has appointed it, but as sin has made it.
The expedition consisted of eight large ships, a caraval, and two
brigantines. They were freighted with everything which could be deemed
needful to conquer the country, and then to colonize it. The force
embarked, in addition to the sailors who worked the ships, consisted
of a thousand thoroughly armed men, and three hundred and fifty
horses. Contrary winds gave them a slow passage across the gulf. On
the twenty-fifth of May they entered the harbor of which they were in
search. It was on the western coast of the magnificent peninsula. De
Soto then gave it the name of Espiritu Santo. It is now however known
as Tampa Bay.
As they entered the harbor beacon fires were seen blazing along the
eminences, indicating that the natives had taken the alarm, and were
preparing for resistance. Several days were employed in cautious
sounding of the harbor and searching for a suitable landing-place, as
it seemed probable that opposition was to be encountered. On the last
day of May, a detachment of three hundred soldiers landed on the beach
and took possession of the land in the name of Charles the Fifth. The
serene day was succeeded by a balmy night. Not an Indian was to be
seen; and the bloom, luxuriance and fruitage of the tropics, spread
enchantingly around them.
The hours of the night passed away undisturbed. But just before dawn a
terrific war-whoop resounded through the forest, as from a thousand
throats, and a band of Indian warriors came rushing down, hurling upon
the invaders a shower of arrows and javelins. The attack was so
sudden and impetuous that the Spaniards were thrown into a panic. They
rushed for their boats, and with loudest bugle peals, called for aid
from their companions in the ships. The summons met with a prompt
response. Boats were immediately lowered, and a large party of
steel-clad men and horses were sent to their aid.
When Nuño Tobar was degraded, and dismissed from his office as
lieutenant-general, a rich, hair-brained Spanish nobleman, by the name
of Vasco Porcallo, took his place. He was a gay cavalier, brave even
to recklessness, of shallow intellect, but a man who had seen much
hard service in the battlefields of those days. He was very rich,
residing at Trinidad in Cuba. He joined the enterprise for the
conquest of Florida, influenced by an instinctive love of adventure,
and by the desire to kidnap Indians to work as slaves on his
plantations. The valiant Porcallo headed the party sent to the rescue
of those on shore.
In such an adventure he was entirely in his element. Immediately upon
landing he put spurs to his horse and, accompanied by only seven
dragoons, with his sabre flashing in the air, plunged into the very
thickest of the Indians. Soon they were put to flight. An Indian
arrow, however, pierced his saddle and its housings, and reached the
vitals of his horse. The noble steed dropped dead beneath him.
Porcallo was quite proud of his achievement, and boasted not a little
that his arm had put the _infidels_, as he called the Indians, to
flight, and that his horse was the first to fall in the encounter.
During the day all the troops were disembarked and encamped upon the
shore. It was reported that there was quite a populous Indian town at
the distance of about six miles from the place of landing. While the
ammunition and commissary stores were being brought on shore, the
little army marched for this village. It was the residence of the
chief of the powerful tribe who occupied that region. His name was
Ucita, and from him the village received the same appellation.
The Spaniards met with no opposition on their march. But when they
reached the village they found it entirely deserted. It was quite a
large town, the houses being built substantially of timber, thatched
with palm leaves. Many of these edifices were large and commodious,
containing several rooms. Their articles of household furniture were
convenient, and some of them quite elegant. The dresses, especially
those of the females, were artistic and often highly ornamental. Very
beautiful shawls and mantillas were manufactured by them. Their finest
fabrics were woven by the hand from the fibrous bark of the
mulberry-tree and hemp, which grew wild and in abundance. The natives
had acquired the art of rich coloring, and the garments thus
manufactured by them were often really beautiful. The walls of the
houses of the wealthier citizens were hung with tapestry of very
softly tanned and richly prepared buckskin; and carpets of the same
material were spread upon the floors.
The Floridians were not acquainted with iron, that most indispensable
article with nations of high enlightenment. But they had succeeded in
imparting a temper to copper, so as to give many of their tools quite
a keen edge. Though the inhabitants of Florida had not attained that
degree of civilization which had been reached by the Peruvians, it
will be seen that they were immeasurably in advance of the savages in
the northern portion of the continent, and that their homes far
surpassed those of the peasantry of Ireland, and were more tasteful
and commodious than the log huts which European emigrants erect as
their first home in the wilderness of the West. They cultivated the
ground mainly for their subsistence, though hunting and fishing were
resorted to, then as now, for recreation as well as for food.
De Soto took possession of the deserted village, and occupied the
houses of the inhabitants as barracks for his soldiers. A few
straggling Indians were taken captive. From them he learned that he
was doomed to suffer for the infamous conduct of the Spanish
adventurer, Narvaez, who had preceded him in a visit to this region.
This vile man had been guilty of the most inhuman atrocities. He had
caused the mother of the chief Ucita to be torn to pieces by
bloodhounds, and in a transport of passion had awfully mutilated Ucita
himself, by cutting off his nose. Consequently, the chief and all his
people were exasperated to the highest degree. The injuries they had
received were such as could never be forgiven or forgotten.
De Soto was very anxious to cultivate friendly relations with the
Indians. Whatever may have been his faults, his whole career thus far
had shown him to be by nature a kind-hearted and upright man, hating
oppression and loving justice. The faults of his character rather
belonged to the age in which he lived, than to the individual man. No
military leader has ever yet been able to restrain the passions of his
soldiers. Wherever an army moves, there will always be, to a greater
or less degree, plunder and violence. De Soto earnestly endeavored to
introduce strict discipline among his troops. He forbade the slightest
act of injustice or disrespect towards the Indians. Whenever a captive
was taken, he treated him as a father would treat a child, and
returned him to his home laden with presents. He availed himself of
every opportunity to send friendly messages to Ucita. But the
mutilated chief was in no mood to be placated. His only reply to these
kind words was,
"I want none of the speeches or promises of the Spaniards. Bring me
their heads and I will receive them joyfully."
The energies of De Soto inspired his whole camp. The provisions and
munitions of war were promptly landed and conveyed to Ucita. The place
was strongly fortified, and a hardy veteran, named Pedro Calderon, was
placed in command of the garrison entrusted with its defence. All the
large ships were sent back to Cuba, probably to obtain fresh supplies
of military stores; some say that it was to teach the army that, there
being no possibility of escape, it now must depend upon its own valor
for existence.
De Soto was very unwilling to set out for a march into the interior
for discovery and in search of gold, while leaving so powerful a tribe
as that over which Ucita reigned, in hostility behind him. He
therefore sent repeated messages to Ucita expressing his utter
detestation of the conduct of Narvaez; his desire to do everything in
his power to repair the wrong which had been inflicted upon him, and
his earnest wish to establish friendly relations with the
deeply-injured chief.
These reiterated friendly advances, ever accompanied by correspondent
action, at length in some slight degree mitigated the deadly rancor of
Ucita, so that instead of returning a message of defiance and hate, he
sent back the truly noble response:
"The memory of my injuries prevents me from returning a kind reply to
your messages, and your courtesy is such that it will not allow me to
return a harsh answer."
The man who, under these circumstances, could frame such a reply, must
have been one of nature's noblemen. De Soto could appreciate the
grandeur of such a spirit. While these scenes were transpiring, a man
was brought into the camp, in Indian costume, who announced himself as
a Spaniard by the name of Juan Ortiz. He had been one of the
adventurers under Narvaez. In the extermination of that infamous band
he had been taken captive and bound to the stake, to be consumed. He
was then but eighteen years of age, tall and very handsome. As the
tongues of torturing flame began to eat into his quivering flesh,
cries of agony were extorted from him.
He was in the hands of a powerful chief, whose daughter is represented
as a very beautiful princess, by the name of Uleleh. She was about
sixteen years of age, and could not endure the scene. She threw her
arms around her father's neck, and with tears of anguish pleaded that
his life might be saved. He was rescued; and though for a time he
suffered extreme cruelty, he eventually became adopted, as it were,
into the tribe, and for ten years had resided among the Indians,
sometimes regarded as a captive, upon whom heavy burdens could be
imposed, and again treated with great kindness. Juan Ortiz being thus
familiar with the habits of the natives and their language, became an
invaluable acquisition to the adventurers.
De Soto inquired very earnestly of him respecting the country and the
prospect of finding any region abounding with silver and gold. Ortiz
had but little information to give, save that, at the distance of
about a hundred miles from where they then were, there was a great
chief named Uribaracaxi, to whom all the adjacent chiefs were
tributary. His realms were represented as far more extensive,
populous, and rich than those of the surrounding chieftains. De Soto
dispatched a band of sixty horsemen and sixty foot soldiers with
presents and messages of friendship to Uribaracaxi. The object of the
expedition was to explore the country and to make inquiries respecting
gold.
A weary march of about fort
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