University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
THE SNARE OF THE PIRATE.

Sebastian Cabot is supposed to have been the first European
voyager who ever laid eyes upon the low shores of Carolina.
He sailed along the coast and looked at it, but did not attempt to
land,—nor was such a proceeding necessary to his objects. His
single look, according to the laws and morals of that day, in civilized
Europe, conferred a sufficient right upon the nation by which
he was employed, to all countries which he might discover, and
to all people, worshipping at other than Christian altars, by whom
they might be occupied. The supposed right, however, thus acquired
by Cabot, was not then asserted by the English whom he

served. It was reserved for another voyager, who, with greater
condescension, surveyed the coast and actually set foot upon it.
This was Lucas Velasquez de Ayllon, whose adventures in Carolina
we propose briefly to relate. Better for him that he had
never seen it!—or, seeing it, if he had posted away from its shores
for ever. They were the shores of destiny for him. But he
was a bad man, and we may reasonably assume that the Just
Providence had ordained that his crimes should there meet with
that retribution which they were not likely to encounter any where
else. Here, if he found paganism, he, at the same time, found
hospitality; and here, if he brought cunning, he encountered
courage! Fierce valour and generous hospitality were the natural
virtues of the Southern Indians.

But we must retrace our steps for a brief period. Some preliminaries,
drawn from the history of the times, are first necessary
to be understood.—The feebleness of the natives of Hayti,
as is well known, so far from making them objects of pity and
indulgence in the sight of other Spanish conquerors, had the contrary
effect of converting an otherwise brave soldiery into a reckless
band of despots, as brutal in their performances as they
were unwise in their tyrannies. The miserable Indians sunk
under their domination. The blandness of their climate, its delicious
fruits, the spontaneous gifts of nature, had rendered them
too effeminate for labour and too spiritless for war. Their extermination
was threatened; and, as a remedial measure, the benevolent
father, Las Casas,—whose humanity stands out conspicuously
in contrast with the proverbial cruelty and ferocity of his countrymen,—suggested
the policy of making captures of slaves, to
take the places of the perishing Haytians, from the Caribbean
Islands and from the coasts of Florida. The hardy savages of
these regions, inured to war, and loving it for its very dangers
and exercises, were better able to endure the severe tasks which
were prescribed by the conquerors. This opened a new branch
of business for these bold and reckless adventurers. Predatory
incursions were made along the shores of the Gulf, and seldom
without profit. In this way one race was made to supersede another,
in the delicious country which seems destined never to
rear a population suited to its characteristics. The stubborn and

sullen Caribbean was made to bend his shoulders to the burden,
but did not the less save the feeble Haytian from his doom. The
fierce tribes of Apalachia took the place of the delicate limbed
native of the Ozama; and, in process of years, the whole southern
coasts of North America became tributary, in some degree, to
the novel and tyrannical policy which was yet suggested by a
spirit of the most genuine benevolence.

The business of slave capture became somewhat more profitable
than the fatiguing and protracted search after gold—a search
much more full of delusions than of any thing substantial. It
agreed better with the hardy valour of those wild adventurers.
Many bold knights adopted this new vocation. Among these
was one Lucas Velasquez de Ayllon, already mentioned as succeeding
Cabot in his discovery of Carolina. He was a stern,
cold man, brave enough for the uses to which valour was put in
those days; but having the narrow contracted soul of a miser, he
was incapable of noble thoughts or generous feelings. The love
of gold was the settled passion of his heart, as it was too much
the passion of his countrymen. He soon distinguished himself
by his forays, and was among the first to introduce his people to
a knowledge of Carolina, where they subsequently made themselves
notorious by their atrocities. Some time in the year 1520,
he set forth, in two ships, on an expedition of this nature. He
seems to have been already acquainted with the region. Wending
north, he soon found himself in smooth water, and gliding
along by numberless pleasant islands, that broke the billows of
the sea, and formed frequent and safe harborages along the coasts
of the country. Attracted by a spacious opening in the shores,
he stood in for a prominent headland, to which he gave the
name of Cape St. Helena; a name which is now borne by the
contiguous sound. The smoothness of the waters; the placid
and serene security of this lovely basin; the rich green of the
verdure which encountered the eyes of the adventurers on all sides,
beguiled them onward; and they were at length rejoiced at the sight,
—more grateful to their desire than any other, as it promised them
the spoils which they sought—of numerous groups of natives
that thronged the lands-ends at their approach. They cast anchor

near the mouth of a river, which, deriving its name from the
Queen of the country, is called, to this day, the Combahee.

The natives were a race as unconscious of guile as they were
fearless of danger. They are represented to have been of very
noble stature; graceful and strong of limb; of bright, dark,
flashing eyes, and of singularly advanced civilization, since they
wore cotton clothes of their own manufacture, and had even
made considerable progress in the arts of knitting, spinning and
weaving. They had draperies to their places of repose; and
some of the more distinguished among their women and warriors,
wore thin and flowing fringes, by way of ornament, upon which
a free and tasteful disposition of pearls might occasionally be seen.
Like many other of the native tribes, they were governed by a
queen whose name has already been given. The name of the
country they called Chicora, or, more properly, Chiquola.

Unsuspecting as they were brave, the savages surrounded the
vessels in their boats, and many of them even swam off from
shore to meet them; being quite as expert in the water as upon
the land. The wily Spaniard spared no arts to encourage and
increase this confidence. Toys and implements of a kind likely
to attract the eyes, and catch the affections, of an ignorant people,
were studiously held up in sight; and, by little and little,
they grew bold enough, at length, to clamber up the sides of the
ships, and make their appearance upon the decks. Still, with
all their arts, the number of those who came on board was small,
compared with those who remained aloof. It was observed by
the Spaniards that the persons who forbore to visit them were
evidently the persons of highest consequence. Those who came,
as constantly withdrew to make their report to others, who either
stayed on the land, or hovered in sight, but at a safe distance, in
their light canoes. De Ayllon shrewdly conjectured that if he
could tempt these more important persons to visit his vessels, the
great body of the savages would follow. His object was numbers;
and his grasping and calculating soul scanned the crowds
which were in sight, and thought of the immense space in his
hold, which it was his policy and wish to fill. To bring about
his object, he spared none of the customary modes of temptation.
Beads and bells were sparingly distributed to those who came,

and they were instructed by signs and sounds to depart, and
return with their companions. To a certain extent, this policy
had its effect, but the appetite of the Spaniard was not easily
glutted.

He noted, among the hundred canoes that darted about the
bay, one that was not only of larger size and better construction
than the rest, but which was fitted up with cotton stuffs and
fringes like some barge of state. He rightly conjectured that
this canoe contained the Cassique or sovereign of the country.
The canoe was dug from a single tree, and was more than forty
feet in length. It had a sort of canopy of cotton stuff near the
stern, beneath which sat several females, one of whom was of
majestic demeanour, and seemed to be an object of deference with
all the rest. It did not escape the eyes of the Spaniards that her
neck was hung with pearls, others were twined about her brows,
and gleamed out from the folds of her long glossy black hair,
which, streaming down her neck, was seen almost to mingle with
the chafing billows of the sound. The men in this vessel were
also most evidently of the better order. All of them were clad
in fringed cotton stuffs of a superior description to those worn by
the gathering multitude. Some of these stuffs were dyed of a
bright red and yellow, and plumes, similarly stained, were fastened
in many instances to their brows, by narrow strips of coloured
fringe, not unfrequently sprinkled artfully with seed pearl.

The eyes of De Ayllon gloated as he beheld this barge, from
which he did not once withdraw his glance. But, if he saw the
importance of securing this particular prize, he, at the same time,
felt the difficulty of such a performance. The Indians seemed
not unaware of the special value of this canoe. It was kept
aloof, while all the rest ventured boldly alongside the Spanish
vessels. A proper jealousy of strangers,—though it does not
seem that they had any suspicion of their particular object—restrained
the savages. To this natural jealousy, that curiosity
which is equally natural to ignorance, was opposed. De Ayllon
was too sagacious to despair of the final success of this superior
passion. He redoubled his arts. His hawk's bells were made
to jingle from the ship's side; tinsel, but bright crosses—the holiest
sign in the exercise of his religious faith—were hung in view,

abused as lures for the purposes of fraud and violence. No toy,
which had ever yet been found potent in Indian traffic, was withheld
from sight; and, by little and little, the unconscious arms of
the Indian rowers impelled the destined bark nearer and nearer
to the artful Spaniards. Still, the approach was slow. The
strokes of the rowers were frequently suspended, as if in obedience
to orders from their chiefs. A consultation was evidently
going on among the inmates of the Indian vessels. Other canoes
approached it from the shore. The barge of state was surrounded.
It was obvious that the counsellors were averse to the unnecessary
exposure of their sovereigns.

It was a moment of anxiety with De Ayllon. There were not
twenty Indians remaining on his decks; at one time there had
been an hundred. He beheld the hesitation, amounting to seeming
apprehension, among the people in the canoes; and he now
began to reproach himself with that cupidity, which, grasping at
too much, had probably lost all. But so long as curiosity hesitates
there is hope for cupidity. De Ayllon brought forth other
lures: he preferred fraud to fighting.

“Look!” said a princely damsel in the canoe of state, as a
cluster of bright mirrors shone burningly in the sunlight. “Look!”
—and every eye followed her finger, and every feminine tongue
in the vessel grew clamorous for an instant, in its own language,
expressing the wonder which was felt at this surpassing display.
Still, the canoe hung, suspended on its centre, motionless. The
contest was undecided: a long, low discussion was carried on between
a small and select number in the little vessel. De Ayllon
saw that but from four to five persons engaged in this discussion.
One of these, only, was a woman—the majestic but youthful
woman, of whom we have already given a brief description.
Three others were grave middle-aged men; but the fourth was
a tall, bright-eyed savage, who had scarcely reached the term of
manhood, with a proud eager aspect, and a form equally combining
strength and symmetry. He wore a coronet of eagle
feathers, and from his place in the canoe, immediately next that
of the queen, it was inferred correctly by the Spanish captain
that he was her husband. He spoke earnestly, almost angrily;
pointed several times to the ships, whenever the objects of attraction

were displayed; and, from his impatient manner, it was
very clear that the counsel to which he listened did not correspond
with the desires which he felt. But the discussion was soon
ended. De Ayllon waved a bright scimitar above his head, and
the young chief in the canoe of state started to his feet, with an
unrestrainable impulse, and extended his hand for the gift. The
brave soul of the young warrior spoke out without control when
he beheld the true object of attraction. De Ayllon waved the
weapon encouragingly, and bowed his head, as if in compliance
with his demand. The young savage uttered a few words to his
people, and the paddles were again dipped in water; the bark
went forward, and, from the Spanish vessel, a rope was let down
to assist the visitors as soon as they were alongside.

The hand of the young chief had already grasped the rope,
when the fingers of Combahee, the queen, with an equal mixture
of majesty and grace, were laid upon his arm.

“Go not, Chiquola” she said, with a persuasive, entreating
glance of her deep, dark eyes. He shook off her hand impatiently,
and, running up the sides of the vessel, was already safely
on the deck, before he perceived that she was preparing to follow
him. He turned upon her, and a brief expostulation seemed to
follow from his lips. It appeared as if the young savage was
only made conscious of his imprudence, by beholding hers. She
answered him with a firmness of manner, a dignity and sweetness
so happily blended, that the Spanish officers, who had, by this
time, gathered round them, looked on and listened with surprise.
The young chief, whom they learned to call by the name of Chiquola—which
they soon understood was that of the country, also—
appeared dissatisfied, and renewed his expostulations, but with
the same effect. At length he waved his hand to the canoe, and,
speaking a few words, moved once more to the side of the ship at
which she had entered. The woman's eye brightened; she answered
with a single word, and hurried in the same direction.
De Ayllon, fearing the loss of his victims, now thought it time to
interfere. The sword, which had won the eyes of the young
warrior at first, was again waved in his sight, while a mirror of the
largest size was held before the noble features of the Indian princess.
The youth grasped the weapon, and laughed with a delighted

but brief chuckle as he looked on the glittering steel, and shook
it hurriedly in the air. He seemed to know the use of such an
instrument by instinct. In its contemplation, he forgot his own
suspicions and that of his people; and no more renewing his suggestions
to depart, he spoke to Combahee only of the beauties and
the use of the new weapon which had been given to his hands.

The woman seemed altogether a superior person. There was
a stern mournfulness about her, which, while it commanded respect,
did not impair the symmetry and sweetness of her very intelligent
and pleasing features. She had the high forehead of our
race, without that accompanying protuberance of the cheek bones,
which distinguished hers. Her mouth was very small and sweet,
like that which is common to her people. Her eyes were large,
deeply set, and dark in the extreme, wearing that pensive earnestness
of expression which seems to denote presentiment of many
pangs and sorrows. Her form, we have already said, was large
and majestical; yet the thick masses of her glossy black hair
streamed even to her heels. Superior to her companions, male
as well as female, the mirror which had been put into her hands
—a glance at which had awakened the most boisterous clamours
of delight among her female attendants, all of whom had followed
her into the Spanish vessel—was laid down, after a brief examination,
with perfect indifference. Her countenance, though not
uninformed with curiosity, was full of a most expressive anxiety.
She certainly felt the wonder which the others showed, at the
manifold strange objects which met their eyes; but this feeling
was entertained in a more subdued degree, and did not display
itself in the usual language of surprise. She simply seemed to
follow the footsteps of Chiquola, without participating in his pleasures,
or in that curiosity which made him traverse the ship in every
accessible quarter, from stem to stern, seeking all objects of novelty,
and passing from one to the other with an appetite which
nothing seemed likely soon to satiate.

Meanwhile, the example set by their Queen, the Cassiques, the
Iawas, or Priests, and other headmen of the Nation, was soon followed
by the common people; and De Ayllon had the satisfaction,
on exchanging signals with his consort, to find that both ships
were crowded with quite as many persons as they could possibly

carry. The vessel under his immediate command was scarcely
manageable from the multitudes which thronged her decks, and
impeded, in a great measure, all the operations of the crew. He
devised a remedy for this evil, and, at the same time, a measure
very well calculated to give complete effect to his plans. Refreshments
were provided in the hold; wines in abundance; and
the trooping savages were invited into that gloomy region, which
a timely precaution had rendered more cheerful in appearance
by the introduction of numerous lights. A similar arrangement
conducted the more honourable guests into the cabin, and a free
use of the intoxicating beverages, on the part of the great body
of the Indians, soon rendered easy all the remaining labours of
the wily Spaniard. The hatches were suddenly closed when the
hold was most crowded, and two hundred of the unconscious and
half stupid savages were thus entrapped for the slave market of
the City of Columbus.

In the cabin the same transaction was marked by some distinguishing
differences. The wily De Ayllon paid every attention
to his guests. A natural homage was felt to be the due of
royalty and rank, even among a race of savages; and this sentiment
was enforced by the obvious necessity of pursuing that course
of conduct which would induce the confidence of persons who had
already shown themselves so suspicious. De Ayllon, with his
officers, himself attended Chiquola and the Queen. The former
needed no persuasion. He freely seated himself on the cushions
of the cabin, and drank of the proffered wines, till his eyes danced
with delight, his blood tingled, and his speech, always free, became
garrulity, to the great annoyance of Combahee. She had
followed him with evident reluctance into the interior of the vessel;
and now, seated with the rest, within the cabin, she watched
the proceedings with a painful degree of interest and dissatisfaction,
increasing momently as she beheld the increasing effect upon
him of the wine which he had taken. She herself utterly declined
the proffered liquor; holding herself aloof with as much
natural dignity as could have been displayed by the most polished
princess of Europe. Her disquiet had made itself understood by
her impatience of manner, and by frequent observations in her own
language, to Chiquola. These, of course, could be understood

only by themselves and their attendants. But the Spaniards were
at no loss to divine the purport of her speech from her tones, the
expression of her face, and the quick significant movements of
her hands.

At length she succeeded in impressing her desires upon Chiquola,
and he rose to depart. But the Spaniards had no intention
to suffer this. The plot was now ready for execution. The signal
had been made. The entrance to the cabin was closed, and
a single bold and decisive movement was alone necessary to end
the game. De Ayllon had taken care silently to introduce several
stout soldiers into the cabin, and these, when Chiquola took a
step forward, sprang upon him and his few male companions and
bore them to the floor. Chiquola struggled with a manful courage,
which, equally with their forests, was the inheritance of the
American Indians; but the conflict was too unequal, and it did
not remain doubtful very long. De Ayllon saw that he was secure,
and turned, with an air of courteous constraint, to the spot
where Combahee stood. He approached her with a smile upon
his countenance and with extended arms; but she bestowed upon
him a single glance; and, in a mute survey, took in the entire
extent of her misfortune. The whole proceeding had been the
work of an instant only. That she was taken by surprise, as
well as Chiquola, was sufficiently clear; but her suspicions had
never been wholly quieted, and the degree of surprise which she
felt did not long deprive her of her energies. If her eye betrayed
the startled apprehension of the fawn of her native forests, it
equally expressed the fierce indignation which flames in that of
their tameless eagle. She did not speak as De Ayllon approached;
and when, smiling, he pointed to the condition of Chiquola,
and with extended arms seemed to indicate to her the
hopelessness of any effort at escape, she hissed at him, in reply,
with the keen defiance of the angry coppersnake. He advanced
—his hand was stretched forth towards her person—when she
drew up her queenly form to its fullest height; and, with a single
word hurriedly spoken to the still struggling Chiquola, she
turned, and when De Ayllon looked only to receive her submission,
plunged suddenly through the stern windows of the cabin,
and buried herself in the deep waters of the sea.