Part 16 (1/2)
_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 Friends.h.i.+p of the Cacique.--Trickery of Juan Ortiz.--The Terrible Battle of Chickasaw.--Dreadful Loss of the Spaniards.
For twenty-three days the Spaniards remained in their miserable quarters, nursing the sick and the wounded. As nearly all their baggage had been consumed in the flames, they were in a condition of extreme dest.i.tution and suffering. Parties, of those who were least disabled, were sent on foraging expeditions, penetrating the country around to a distance of about twelve miles. They found the villages deserted by the terror-stricken inhabitants. But they obtained a sufficient supply of food to meet their immediate wants. In the thickets and ravines they found the bodies of many Indians, who had died of their wounds, and had been left unburied by their companions.
They also found in many of the deserted hamlets, wounded Indians, who could go no farther, and who were in a starving and dying condition.
De Soto kindly ordered that their wounds should be dressed, and that they should be fed and nursed just as tenderly as his own men. Several captives were taken. De Soto inquired of them if another attack were meditated. They replied that all their warriors were slain; that none were left to renew the battle; that their chief had sent his son to watch the movements of the Spaniards, and had summoned his warriors from a great distance for their extermination. Nearly all were to be slain. The survivors were to be held as slaves. All their possessions and especially the magnificent animals they rode, were to be divided as the spoils of the conqueror. They said that their chief, upon the arrival of De Soto with his advance guard, was holding a council with his officers, to decide whether they should immediately attack those who had already arrived, or wait until the whole army was within their power. The pa.s.sion and imprudence of one of their generals had precipitated the conflict.
The loss of the natives was even greater than De Soto had at first imagined. The thousands of Indian warriors who were within the s.p.a.cious houses, shooting their arrows through windows, doors and loopholes, were many of them cut off from all escape, by the devouring flames. Bewildered, blinded, stifled by the smoke, and encircled by the billowy fire, they miserably perished.
While De Soto was thus encamped around the smouldering ruins of Mobila, he heard of the arrival of his fleet at Pensacola, then called the bay of Achusi. As he was but about one hundred miles from that point, an easy march of a few days would bring him to reinforcements and abundant supplies. The tidings of their arrival at first gave him great satisfaction. His determined spirit was still unvanquished. He immediately resolved to establish his colony on the sh.o.r.es of Pensacola Bay, whence he could have constant water communication with Cuba and with Spain. Having obtained a fresh supply of military stores and recruits from the s.h.i.+ps, he would recommence his pursuit after gold.
While one cannot but condemn his persistence in a ruinous course, the invincible spirit it develops wins admiration. Indeed if we accept the facts of the affair at Mobila, as above described, and those facts seem to be fully corroborated by a careful examination of all the reliable annalists of those days, impartial history cannot severely condemn De Soto in that dreadful occurrence. But it cannot be denied that he would have acted much more wisely, had he followed the counsel of Isabella, previously given, and withdrawn from scenes thus fraught with violence, cruelty and blood.
As De Soto was conversing with some of his officers, of his plan of still prosecuting his journey in search of gold, he was told, not a little to his dismay, that his soldiers would not follow him. It was said that they were all thoroughly disheartened, and anxious to return to their homes, and that immediately upon reaching their s.h.i.+ps, they would insist upon reembarking, and abandoning a land where they had thus far encountered only disasters.
The thought of returning to Cuba an impoverished man, having utterly failed in his expedition, surrounded by ragged and clamorous followers, and thus in disgrace, was to De Soto dreadful. Not making sufficient allowance for the difference in those respects between himself and his followers, he found it difficult to credit the representations which had been made to him. He therefore dressed himself in a disguise, and secretly wandered about by night among the frail huts of the soldiers, and soon found, by listening to their conversation, his worst fears confirmed. It became clear to his mind that immediately on his return to the s.h.i.+ps, his present followers would disband and s.h.i.+ft for themselves, while it would be in vain for him to attempt to raise another army.
Speaking of the distress with which these considerations oppressed the mind of De Soto, Mr. Irving well says, referring in confirmation of his statement, both to the account given by the Portuguese Narrative, and that by the Inca:
”Should his present forces desert him, therefore, he would remain stripped of dignity and command, blasted in reputation, his fortune expended in vain, and his enterprise, which had caused so much toil and trouble, a subject of scoffing rather than renown. The Governor was a man extremely jealous of his honor; and as he reflected upon these gloomy prospects, they produced sudden and desperate resolves. He disguised his anger and his knowledge of the schemes he had overheard, but he determined to frustrate them by turning back upon the coast, striking again into the interior, and never seeking the s.h.i.+ps nor furnis.h.i.+ng any tidings of himself, until he had crowned his enterprise gloriously by discovering new regions of wealth like those of Peru and Mexico.
”A change came over De Soto from this day. He was disconcerted in his favorite scheme of colonization, and had lost confidence in his followers. Instead of manifesting his usual frankness, energy and alacrity, he became a moody, irritable, discontented man. He no longer pretended to strike out any grand undertaking, went recklessly wandering from place to place, apparently without order or object, as if careless of time and life, and only anxious to finish his existence.”
On the morning of the 15th of November, 1540, the troops, much to their consternation, received orders to commence their march to the north, instead of to the south. The established habits of military discipline, and the stern manner of De Soto, repelled all audible murmurs. Each soldier took with him two days' provision, which consisted mainly of roasted corn pounded into meal. It was not doubted that in the fertile region of that sunny clime they would find food by the way. But winter was approaching which, though short, would certainly bring with it some days and nights of such severe cold that an unsheltered army would almost perish.
After traversing a very pleasant country for five days, without meeting any adventure of any especial interest, they came to a river wide and deep, with precipitous banks, which is supposed to have been the Tuscaloosa, or Black Warrior. The point at which they touched this stream, upon whose banks they had already encamped, was probably near the present site of Erie, in Greene County. Here they found upon the farther banks of the river, a populous village called Cabusto. De Soto as usual sent a courier with a friendly message to the chief, saying ”that he came in friends.h.i.+p and sought only an un.o.bstructed path through his realms.”
The chief returned the defiant reply--
”We want no peace with you. War only we want; a war of fire and blood.”
As De Soto, troubled by this message, moved cautiously forward, he found an army of fifteen hundred natives drawn up on the banks of the stream to prevent the pa.s.sage; while the opposite banks were occupied by between six and seven thousand warriors, extending up and down the river for a distance of six miles. There was nothing for the Spaniards to do but to press forward. To turn back, in sight of their foes, was not to be thought of. After a pretty sharp skirmish, in which the Spaniards attacked their opponents, the natives sprang into their canoes, and some by swimming crossed the river and joined the main body of the Indians upon the opposite bank.
Here they were obviously prepared, to make a desperate resistance.
Night came on, dark and chill. The Spaniards bivouacked on the open plain, awaiting the morning, when, with but about seven hundred men, they were to a.s.sail eight thousand warriors, very strongly posted on bluffs, with a deep and rapid river flowing at their feet. The Indians gave the Spaniards no repose. During the darkness they were continually pa.s.sing the river at different points in their canoes, and then uniting in one band, with hideous outcries a.s.sailing the weary travellers. The military genius of De Soto successfully beat them off through the night. He then intrenched himself so as to bid defiance to their attacks, and employed one hundred of his most skilful workmen in building, under the concealment of a neighboring grove, two very large flat boats.
Twelve days pa.s.sed before these barges were finished. By the aid of men and horses, they were brought to the river and launched. In the morning, before the dawn, ten mounted hors.e.m.e.n and forty footmen embarked in each boat, the footmen to ply the oars as vigorously as possible in the rapid pa.s.sage of the river to a designated spot, where the hors.e.m.e.n were immediately to spur their steeds upon the sh.o.r.e, and with their sabres open a pa.s.sage for the rest of the troops. De Soto was anxious to pa.s.s in the first boat, but his followers entreated him not to expose his life, upon which everything depended, to so great a peril.
The moment the boats were dimly seen by the watchful natives, a signal war-whoop rang along the bank for miles. Five hundred warriors rushed to the menaced spot, to prevent the landing. Such a shower of arrows was thrown upon the boat that every man was more or less wounded. The moment the bows touched the beach, the steel-clad hors.e.m.e.n plunged upon the foe, and cut their way through them with blood-dripping sabres. Other native warriors were however hurrying to the a.s.sistance of their comrades. In the meantime the boats had with great rapidity recrossed the river, and brought over another detachment of eighty men with De Soto himself at their head. After a sanguinary conflict the Spaniards obtained complete possession of the landing place. Though unimportant skirmishes were kept up through the day, the remaining troops were without difficulty brought across the river. At nightfall not an Indian was to be seen. They had all withdrawn and fortified themselves with palisades in a neighboring swamp.
The Spaniards found opening before them a beautiful and fertile country, well cultivated, with fields of corn and beans, and with many small villages and comfortable farm-houses scattered around. They broke up their boats for the sake of the nails, which might prove of priceless value to them in their future operations. Leaving the Indians unmolested in their fortress, they journeyed on five days in a westerly direction, when they reached the banks of another large river, which is supposed to have been the Tombigbee.
Here De Soto found hostile Indians arrayed on the opposite bank, ready to oppose his pa.s.sage. Anxious to avoid, if possible, any sanguinary collision with the natives, he tarried for two days, until a canoe had been constructed by which he could send a friendly message across to the chief. A single unarmed Indian was dispatched in the canoe with these words of peace. He paddled across the river, and as soon as the canoe touched the sh.o.r.e the savages rushed upon him, beat out his brains with their war-clubs, and raising yells of defiance, mysteriously disappeared.
There being no longer any foe to oppose the pa.s.sage, the troops were easily conveyed across on rafts. Una.s.sailed, they marched tranquilly on for several days, until, on the 18th of December, they reached a small village called Chickasaw. It was pleasantly situated on a gentle eminence, embellished with groves of walnut and oak trees, and with streams of pure water running on either side. It is supposed that this village was on the Yazoo river, in the upper part of the State of Mississippi, about two hundred and fifty miles northwest of Mobile.
It was midwinter, and upon those high lands the weather was intensely cold. The ground was frequently enc.u.mbered with snow and ice, and the troops, unprovided with winter clothing, suffered severely. De Soto decided to take up his winter quarters at Chickasaw, there to await the returning sun of spring. There appears to have been something senseless in the wild wanderings in which De Soto was now persisting, which have led some to suppose that care, exhaustion, and sorrow had brought on some degree of mental derangement. However that may be, he devoted himself with great energy to the promotion of the comfort of his men. Foraging parties were dispatched in all directions in search of food and of straw for bedding, while an ample supply of fuel was collected for their winter fires.
There were two hundred comfortable houses in this village, and De Soto added a few more, so that all of his men were well sheltered. So far as we can judge from the narratives given, the native inhabitants, through fear of the Spaniards, had abandoned their homes and fled to distant parts. De Soto did everything in his power to open friendly relations with the Indians. He succeeded, through his scouts, in capturing a few, whom he sent to their chief laden with presents, and with a.s.surances of peace and friends.h.i.+p.
The Cacique returned favorable replies, and sent to De Soto in return fruit, fish, and venison. He, however, was very careful not to expose his person to the power of the Spaniards. His warriors, in gradually increasing numbers, ventured to enter the village, where they were treated by De Soto with the greatest consideration. He had still quite a large number of swine with him, for they had multiplied wonderfully on the way. The Indians, having had a taste of pork, found it so delicious that they began to prowl around the encampment by night to steal these animals. It is said that two Indians who were caught in the act were shot, and as this did not check the thievery, a third had both his hands chopped off with a hatchet, and thus mutilated was sent to the chief as a warning to others.
It is with great reluctance that we give any credence to this statement. It certainly is not sustained by any evidence which would secure conviction in a court of justice. It is quite contrary to the well-established humanity of De Soto. There can be no possible excuse for such an act of barbarity on the part of any civilized man. If De Soto were guilty of the atrocity, it would, indeed, indicate that his reason was being dethroned.