University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.

We can only give glimpses of a progress, every form of
which was distinguished by its own interest and capricious varieties.
We have shown, thus far, the relationships of our parties;
and how they grew, and what were their developments. Each
day gradually contributed to unfold the increasing dependence of
Don Philip and his page upon one another; and both were
watched, though neither perhaps saw to what extent, by the serpent
eyes of Don Balthazar de Alvaro. Meanwhile, Philip de
Vasconselos seemed to grow less and less in favor with the Adelantado,
who now rarely summoned him to his service; and,
except when they met, seemed to have forgotten his existence.
On such occasions there was an evident distance of manner in
the bearing of De Soto, amounting almost to repugnance, which
increased the regrets of Philip that he had ever joined the expedition.
His mortification at having done so, would have been
unendurable, but for a certain indifference of mood, which rendered
him reckless what became of him,—reckless of all things,
indeed; and made him just as well satisfied to rove without a
purpose, and fight without a cause, as to sleep beneath his tree,
when the day had closed in exhaustion. Latterly, his feeling
grew less indifferent. He seemed to be slowly acquiring a new
interest in life. He was conscious of more impulse, of aim,
and objects, vague, indeed, enough, and which he did not seek to
pursue, but which served to show that life for him still had its
resources, even its attractions, and was not wholly denied an
object. But if the question as to that object was asked of Don
Philip, he would have been without an answer. Enough that
under existing circumstances, he could find his associations still
endurable;—without an object in life, he could yet find life not
wholly a burden and a curse!

The brooding mind was not suffered much opportunity for exercise,
in the progress pursued by De Soto. That ambitious chieftain,
in his appetite for conquest and power, kept his followers
sleepless. We may now, with tolerable certainty, follow the
route of the Spaniards upon the map, and trace their course from

the Bay of Tampa, into and through Georgia, even to South
Carolina. Their progress was erratic. They were easily tempted
aside by lures of gold, in this or that quarter; and the imperfectly
understood reports of this or that Indian guide, frequently
misled them from the direct course, to wild adventures, and
strange episodes, which diverted them from the true discovery.
In all their progresses danger hung upon them in the rear, and
disappointment stood in waiting for their approach. One or two
adventures briefly narrated, will serve to illustrate their daily
history; and we linger over a single instance, which enabled
Vasconselos to recover a portion of De Soto's favor.

There was a Floridian Chieftain, or King, named Vitachuco,
who had stubbornly resisted all the approaches of Soto. The
latter, by treachery, contrived to secure the person of this Chieftain.
His next object was to win his favor—a measure conceived
to be by no means difficult, inasmuch as the Adelantedo, in
making captive the Chief, had slaughtered near a thousand of his
warriors, who had sought to rescue his person. Vitachuco, though
kept as a prisoner, and watched, was still allowed certain privileges.
He ate at the table of Soto. He was still able to commune
with his subjects, hundreds of whom were employed about
the Spaniards, as slaves and drudges. To these Vitachuco communicated
his secret thoughts and purposes. He was not a
willing captive. But he was politic. He met subtlety with
subtlety. He suppressed his indignation,—appeared not to see
the restraint put upon his footsteps, and so behaved, as entirely
to disarm the suspicions of his captors. But the fiery indignation
was working in his soul, and he only wanted the proper
moment and opportunity, in which to break his bonds, and
avenge himself upon his captors. This design was reserved for
a day of feasting, when Soto entertained his captive along with
other nobles and princes of the Apalachians, held in similar
bonds with their superior, or of other tribes whom he desired to
conciliate. Vitachuco was too impatient of his injuries to think
wisely, or to resolve with prudence. He did not heed the fact
that himself and followers were unarmed, and were to grapple,
if grapple they did, with foes who never laid aside their weapons
or their mail. The fearless savage resolved to try the struggle
at all odds, unprepared as he was, at the approaching repast; of
which he had due intimations. The four pages or servants, that
waited upon him, were all boys, but he entrusted them with his
secret. They communicated with such warriors as he himself
could not see; and the plan was rapidly matured for execution
the very next day, being the day assigned for the feasting.

According to their plan, Vitachuco was to spring upon the Adelantado,
and kill him if he could, while they were at dinner; his
followers doing the same good service for all the Spaniards present—and,
without, for all others upon whom they could lay
hands. The village of Vitachuco was to be the scene of action.

It happened, the evening before the event, that Juan, the page
of Vasconselos, remarked the activity of Vitachuco's pages, and
that they held frequent communications with their people.
Crowds of the red men were seen coming to the encampment,
or crowding stealthily about it. The place where Vasconselos
found shelter, usually, on the verge of the encampment, was favorable
to observation; and the constant coming and departure
of the Floridians, compelled the boy's observation, and prompted
him to communicate with the knight, his master. They both
watched, and discovered enough, at all events, to render them
suspicious. They redoubled their vigilance, and found that some
provisions, rather novel for a feast, had been made by the savages.
They found hidden in the contiguous woods, large bundles
of darts, barbed with flints, that were ready for use; and scores
of huge macanas or war maces, edged with flint also, a single
blow from which, in a moderately strong hand, would cleave the
skull of any Spaniard, though covered with helm of steel.

To effect these discoveries, and to guard in some degree against
the designs of the savages, by putting the army on the qui vive,
was a work of time, and the Adelantado was already at dinner
with his treacherous guests, ere Philip de Vasconselos was prepared
to unfold his discoveries. Now,—speaking of things
without regard to persons—the Spaniards were quite as treacherous
as the Floridians; and it was with a bitter smile and sneer
that Philip, commenting upon the small claims of the former
upon his fidelity, said to Juan:—

“It is liar against liar, serpent against serpent!—what have
we to do with it, boy? It were just as well that we should see
them strive together, and clap hands equally to behold the good
stroke delivered by Floridian or Spaniard!”

But the sympathies of race and education prevailed, and the
white chieftain, with a feeling of unutterable scorn, which he concealed
under the most courtly demeanor, suddenly appeared at
the place of feasting,—to which he had not been invited,—when
all was most hilarious, and the Adelantado as little dreaming of
the dessert which the Floridian had provided, as of any other
good blessing, with which he might profitably dispense. Vasconselos,
as we say, suddenly appeared within the circle, and for
a moment, quietly surveyed it without speaking.

Whether it was that the scorn which he felt, somewhat showed
itself in his features, or that the Adelantado was in no mood to
behold him with toleration, whom he had not received to favor,
is not easy to be said. It is certain, however, that Soto somewhat
forgot his courtesy in the reception which he gave the
knight of Portugal. With a stern look and chilling accents, he
cried out, as he beheld him:—

“How now, Sir Knight of Portugal, what is it brings you to
this presence at this unseemly moment? We had not anticipated
the honor of your attendance.”

The brow of the knight of Portugal grew black as he replied:

“Señor Don Hernan de Soto, Philip de Vasconselos asks no
favor or courtesy from any man alive! He comes not now as a
courtier, or as a guest, but as a soldier, who shrinks from no duty
even when it needs that he should appear where he is never welcome!
What I have to say, by way of apology for my presence
now, is soon spoken. Ask of the savages whom you feast, why
our camp is girdled by a thousand red warriors, why the pages
of their prince have been in such frequent communion with them,
and why, all on a sudden, such provision as this is made, at convenient
places, in all the neighboring woods?”

Saying these words, he took from an attendant, and threw
down upon the board, and amidst the guests, bundles of darts,
wrapt in skins of the rattle-snake, and a score of the heavy
macanas, such as we have described already. At the sight of
these objects, and before the Adelantado could reply to what he
conceived the insolent speech of Vasconselos—insolent in sense
as in tone—the war-whoop rang wildly through the hall; a terrible
yell that shook the hearts of the assembly, as with a sudden
voice of doom. Vitachuco, from whom the signal came, started
to his feet at the same moment, and, in the twinkling of an eye,
he sprang, like a tiger, full upon Soto. With one hand he
seized him by the collar, while, with the other, he dealt him such
a blow between the eyes, as made the blood fly, and prostrated
the Adelantado to the floor, as heavily as falls the ox beneath the
stroke of the butcher!

All was confusion in that moment. Terribly did this war-whoop
of the savages ring throughout the hall;—and without—
through all the avenues of the village, where the followers of
Vitachuco were collecting at the signal, as had been agreed on
among them. The Spaniards, never dreaming of attack from unarmed
savages, were taken completely by surprise. The Adelantado
lay stunned and senseless beneath the grasp of Vitachuco,
and all was confusion, and uncertainty, within and without.

The Indians, everywhere, seized whatever implements they
could lay hands upon for weapons. Some grasped the pikes and
swords of the Spaniards; others snatched the pots from the fire,
and emptied the contents over their foes, while beating them
about the head with the vessels. Plates, pitchers, jars, the pestles
from the mortars wherein they pounded maize; stools,
benches, tables, billets of wood; in the hands of the fierce Floridians
became instruments of war and vengeance! Never had
such a fight been seen; so promiscuous; urged with such novel
weapons; and so full of terror and confusion. The terror and
danger of the scene were duly increased by others yet, who,
plucking the flaming brands of lightwood from the fire, darted
into the thickest of the fray, shouting like furies, and looking
more like demons from the infernal regions than mere mortal
combatants!

Such was the scene and the character of the struggle throughout
the village. The Spaniards recovered themselves promptly
and fought desperately, and conquered finally; but they suffered
severely. Besides those who perished, many were terribly
bruised, scalded, burnt, and maimed. Arms were broken, teeth
knocked out, faces scarred for ever; the very handcuffs on the
wrists of many of the savages, becoming fearful means of injury
and assault in the promiscuous and close struggle, hand to
hand.

In the hall of the great house of the village where the Adelantado
had feasted the Cassique, the conflict, though involving
smaller numbers, was no less fearful and savage in its character.
But for the presence of Philip de Vasconselos, and his active
energies and vigilance, Soto, and all the party, must have perished.
The Adelantado, as we have seen, was stunned by the
first desperate assault of the Indian Chief. The latter clung to
his victim, and would very soon have finished his work, but for
the quick movement of Philip, who darted to the rescue, and
passed his sword through the body of the savage, while, tiger-like,
he was tearing the neck of the Adelantado. The Spanish knights,
at this sight, recovered from their consternation, and a dozen
swords were crossed in an instant in the body of Vitachuco.
The furious savage died without a groan, glaring, with fellest rage,
upon his enemies, in the very moment when his last breath was
passing. The Indians who remained in the hall were dispatched
in like manner, but not before they had inflicted hurts upon the
Spaniards which left their ghastly marks through life. The end
was massacre. Discipline prevailed over rude and ferocious
valor. The people of Vitachuco, thirteen hundred warriors, the

flower of his nation, perished in the affair, or were butchered
after it. Such is a sample of the fierce character of the red men
of Florida, their desperate valor, and the sleepless passion for
freedom, which they indulged at every peril. The character remains
unchanged to this day. The people of Vitachuco occupied
the same region which the Seminoles maintained, with such surprising
skill and courage, for five years, against the army of the
United States, in recent times.