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