themselves upon the ground like tired dogs. When hungry they ate what was thrown to the dogs. So far as known, Hernando de Soto was the first to introduce slavery,5 in its worst form, into the country of Florida, and in this manner did this Christian soldier of a Christian prince set up the first government by white men begun in any part of the territory of the United States.
The Spaniards were seeking for the gold which they believed the country contained. At the first landing, a Spaniard,6 who had lived twelve years among the Florida Indians, was brought by them into the camp among his friends. The first thing De Soto asked this man was whether he knew of any gold or silver in the country. When he frankly said that he did not, his countrymen would not believe him. The Indians, when questioned, pointed to the mountains, where gold is, indeed, found to this day. Though he did not believe him, De Soto took the rescued man along with him as his interpreter.
CUBAN BLOODHOUND.
It was said, and by many believed, that somewhere in Florida stood a golden city, ruled over by a king or high priest who was sprinkled from head to foot with gold-dust instead of powder. This story was quite enough to excite the cupidity of the Spaniards, who grew warm when speaking of this city as the El Dorado,7 or city of the Gilded One.
Such fables would not now be listened to by sensible people, but in the time we are writing of they were firmly believed in, not only by the poor and ignorant, but by the greatest princes in Christendom, as well. No doubt they helped to fill De Soto's ranks. Lord Bacon tells us that in all superstitions wise men follow fools, and as this was a superstitious age, we can readily believe him. The great, the prolific, the true mines of the country, the cultivation of the soil, was not thought of by these soldiers of fortune who followed De Soto into Florida.
This ill-starred expedition is memorable rather for its misfortunes than because of any service it has rendered to civilization. Most graphically are these shadowed forth in the death and burial of De Soto himself, and in that sense they will stand for all time on the page of history as a memorial to what men will dare and suffer for greed of gold. In any other cause the expedition would be worthy an epic.
Although composed of the best soldiers in the world, with a valiant and skilful captain for its leader, the little army became so hopelessly entangled, so utterly lost in the primeval wildernesses, that to this day it has never been possible to trace out the true course of that fatal march.8 Wherever he could hear of gold, thither De Soto led his weary and footsore battalions. When baffled on one side, he turned with rare perseverance to another. And though they were being wasted in daily combats, though famine and disease followed them step by step through swamp and everglade, over mountains and rivers, still, with wondrous fatuity, De Soto pushed ever on. Like an enchantress his El Dorado had lured him on to his destruction.
For about two years De Soto and his companions wholly passed from the knowledge of men. A miserable remnant of this once gallant band then made their way to the coast, not indeed as conquerors, but as fugitives.9
DEPARTURE OF THE SPANIARDS.
Just where these years were passed is not clear. Long ago time obliterated all traces of the invaders' march. So the clew is lost. Yet we do know that one day in May, 1541, two years after its first landing, the army halted on the banks of an unknown river almost half a league broad. One of the soldiers says of it, that if a man stood still on the other side it could not be discerned whether he was a man or no. The river was of great depth, and of a strong tide which bore along with it continually many great trees. All doubt vanishes. This could be no other than the "Father of Waters" itself.
Footnotes
1. Mississippi River first mentioned (Indian). The name is variously spelled by early writers. "Father of Waters," or "Great Father of Waters," is the accepted meaning. Most probably the Espiritu Santo of the earliest known Spanish map of Florida (1521), of Sebastian Cabot's (1544); and St. Esprit of the one given in the text, though the Mobile may be meant. De Soto's people seem first to have called it Rio Grande or Great River. This disaster brought exploration in this quarter to a full stop for forty years, when it was resumed by the French, of whose efforts we shall presently speak. The river then appears on a map of the explorer Louis Joliet (1674) under its present name, though there spelled "Messasipi." From this time the name superseded all others.
2. Gulf Coast of Florida is laid down with tolerable accuracy on a map of 1513 (Ptolemy, Venice). Garay examined it in 1518. By 1530 (Ptolemy, Basle) the Gulf Coast had obtained quite accurate delineation. The Gulf, itself, being the highway for ships bound to Mexico and Yucatan, was well known to Spanish sailors. Erelong it became an exclusively Spanish sea on which no other flag was allowed.
3. Hernando de Soto is described by one of his followers as "a stern man of few words, who, though he liked to know and sift the opinions of other men, always did what he liked himself, and so all men did condescend unto his will."—Rel. Portugall.
4. Whitsunday, or Whitsuntide, a festival of the Christian Church commemorating the descent of the Holy Ghost upon the apostles.
5. Slavery, a certain type, it is true, existed among the Indians of this continent, who held their captives in semi-servitude, though the condition was totally different, in that the captive was considered eligible for adoption into the family and tribe of his master. Among the Indians the question of social equality had nothing to do with their policy toward their prisoners, or such as refused to become incorporated with themselves.
6. A Spaniard who came with Narvaez to Florida, named Juan (John) Ortiz.
7. El Dorado. Bear this name in mind. We shall meet with it again.
8. That Fatal March. The one clew to the route De Soto took in his wanderings up and down what are now the Gulf States, is found in the names of various Indian nations whose countries he traversed. Thus the names Apalache, Coça (Coosa), Tuscaluca (Tuscaloosa), and Chicaça (Chicasaw) are so many landmarks. But no precise data remain from which to lay down, with reasonable accuracy, a journey which extended over at least eight or ten states, covered thousands of miles, and occupied years in making. De Soto's crossing place is placed on Pownall's (Eng.) official map of 1755 at or near Osier Point, on the east bank, now corresponding with the north-west corner of the State of Mississippi and De Soto County. On a map of 1775, it is fixed on the thirty-fourth parallel, some distance below the ancient village of the Arkansas, or "Handsome Men."
9. As Fugitives, De Soto's followers, under command of Moscoso, his successor, built themselves boats, in which they descended the Mississippi to the coast, finally reaching Tampico, in Mexico, "whereat the viceroy greatly wondered."
Death and Burial of de Soto.