University of Virginia Library

35. CHAPTER XXXV.

This event had a considerable effect in restoring Vasconselos
to the favor of De Soto. The Adelantado could not ungraciously
forbear to acknowledge a service to which he owed his own
life and probably the safety of his army. He, accordingly,
thanked Philip in stately language, hidalgo-fashion, in the presence
of all his troops. But his pride kept him still in memory
of that haughty reserve of the Portuguese cavalier, which had so
offended his amour propre at first; and as Philip, while as courteously
receiving the compliment of the Adelantado, in a style not
dissimilar from that in which it was couched, abated nothing of
his own dignity, it followed, that the debt which De Soto felt,
of gratitude, was rather irksome and burdensome, than grateful
to that haughty cavalier. He had, besides, ever at hand, whispering
insidious suggestions in his ear, the wily Don Balthazar
de Alvaro. This knight did not suffer the natural feelings of De
Soto to have full play at any time, in his relations to the Portuguese.
But for his constant labors, it might have been that what
was naturally noble in the bosom of the Adelantado, would have
asserted itself to the extent of doing full justice to the merits of
Philip; and giving full exercise to his own proper courtesy and
honor. As it was, the intercourse between the knight of Portugal
and the Spanish Chief, though more courteous and gracious
than before, was scarcely more cordial; and Philip remained, as
before, companioned only by the page Juan, who clung to him
more closely than ever, and grew daily more and more necessary
to his affections.

We pass now over a considerable tract of time, of which we
shall make no record, but which, though full of toils and strifes,
trials and vicissitudes, found our dramatis personœ unchanged in
their several relations. The army, meanwhile, had marched from
Florida into Georgia, had crossed that State, and at length approached
the waters of the Savannah. In the province of Cofa,
however, De Soto experienced an embarrassment in his progress,
which rendered it necessary that Philip de Vasconselos should be
again conciliated. The dialect of the red men changed, and the

interpreter, Juan Ortiz, was no longer competent to act in this
capacity. Philip had traversed this very region. He took the
place of Ortiz; negotiated with the Cassique of Cofa; and once
more had the satisfaction, if any it were, of seeing the eyes of the
Adelantado turned upon him with favor. But the Portuguese
knight regarded these kindly demonstrations with indifference.
He had survived all care, in respect to the carriage of the Castilian
Captain, and his followers; and simply contented himself
with the performance of his duty, as it rose, without giving any
heed to the profit or the loss which might follow upon his toils.
With the Cassique of Cofa, he concluded an amicable treaty,
which secured the support and friendship of a very potent savage.
From him, however, it was learned that there were more powerful
potentates, yet beyond them, to the east, whom it was even
more necessary to conciliate. Much was said of a Princess, or
Queen of Cofachiqui,—a province just beyond; the population
of which was very numerous, and the territory very fertile. It
was reported to be very rich, also, in gold, pearls, and other precious
treasures. The young Princess who ruled the country had
lately come to her throne. She was pronounced to be beautiful
beyond description, and the imagination of the Adelantado was
greatly inflamed by what he heard, of the surpassing beauty of
the maiden, her vast empire, her great treasures, and the wealth
and power of her connections. Her blood mingled with that of
the great Chieftains and Princes who ruled along the waters of
Chatahoochie, Alabama, and Mississippi. The Cassique of Cofa,
very powerful as he himself claimed to be, yet acknowledged his
inferiority to this Princess; his incapacity to encounter her troops
in war, and the fear which he felt of provoking her hostility.
Patofa, the chief in question, hated as he feared; and we may
add that, with savage cunning and ferocity, he continued, under
the sheltering wing of the Spaniards, to execute no little mischief
upon the people and country of the power which he loathed and
dreaded; butchering without remorse, and plundering, whenever
he had the opportunity of doing so in secret. For these reasons,
De Soto was compelled, however reluctantly, to dismiss the
savage chieftain to his own country, with all his followers. His
policy was conciliation; particularly in the case of a Princess so
beautiful, so well connected, so wealthy and powerful, as her of
Cofachiqui, whose territories he had already penetrated, and
whose chief settlements, on the banks of the Savannah, he was
now approaching with all possible expedition.

It was at a spot on the west side of the Savannah, just where
the river sweeps boldly beneath the shining walls of Silver Bluff,

that the Adelantado, with a select detachment of a hundred
cavalry, and as many infantry, emerged from the great forests,
with the view to the passage of the stream. The noble river lay
broad before him in the cloudless light of a noon-day sun. On
the depressed position which he occupied, an esplanade of swamp,
liable to occasional overflow of the freshets from the rapid rising
of the waters, he looked up to the high banks on the opposite shore
—now of Carolina—and surveyed a prospect before him with unqualified
admiration. The mighty forest ranges had been scarcely
broken in any quarter; and the gigantic oak, the hickory, the mulberry,
and black walnut, stood up, and spread away in mighty
ranks, solemnizing the scene as far as the eye could reach. Terminating
long vistas, rose the rustic cots and cabins of the people
of Cofachiqui, stretching in a half circle, which followed the course
of the stream, and sufficiently nigh to enable the inhabitants to
take their fish from its waters, without inconvenience, to their
homes. Conical mounts, and terraces, artificial areas, consecrated
to religious rites, or public sports and gatherings, relieved, with
the villages, the monotony of the unbroken forest. Upon a bold
promontory to the right, surrounded by trees of the greatest age,
and most remarkable aspect, rose up the temple of the tribe:
a rude but picturesque edifice of logs, encircled with pillars,
around which the wild vine had been trained to run. So that the
whole fabric, relieved of all rudeness to the eye, seemed to be the
handiwork of the endowing Spring herself; a green and purple
trophy, vines, flowers and fruit, worthy to be the scene of innocent
rites, and the religion of a pure and simple-hearted people.
It was surrounded by tumuli—by the graves of ages, overgrown
in like manner with shrubs and vines. In the recesses of the
temple, were other treasures of nature and trophies of art.
There, subsequently, the Adelantado gathered heaps of pearl—
bushels of treasure to the Spaniards;—and there also were found
some melancholy memorials of their own and other European
people. Shields, and helmets, and daggers, and spear-heads,
cast away by the followers of Cabeza de Vaca, or more probably
by those of the cruel and luckless Vasquez de Ayllen, at the
mouth of the Combahee, which, according to Indian computation,
was but two days' journey from Silver Bluff. But we must not
anticipate.

When the brilliant cavalcade of the Spanish Chieftain arrived
at the west bank of the Savannah, he found the opposite shore
covered with groups of the red men, looking out and watching
his approach. The signs of vigilance and confident strength
were every where present to his eyes. The boats were numerous

along the banks, but they were all on the eastern side of the river.
Bands of warriors might be seen hastily arraying themselves in
their rude armor, and hurrying,—each as he made himself ready
—with javelin, and spear, and bow, to join the crowds that gathered
by the river. Conspicuous among those upon the banks,
were to be noticed a group of six persons, of very noble appearance,
all of whom had passed the middle period of life. To
these, great deference was shown, and soon a great canoe, propelled
by several strong rowers, approached the spot where they
stood. They entered the canoe in silence, and, a moment after,
it shot across the stream to the spot where De Soto had arrived,
at the head of his array. The fearless chieftains of the forest
approached him with a calm dignity, and a noble grace, which
struck the Adelantado with surprise, and compelled his respect.
He soon perceived that he stood in the presence of a people, very
far superior to those whom he had hitherto encountered in the
forests of the Floridian—superior in grace and art, if not in valor.
De Soto hastily seated himself in a chair of state, which he carried
with him for occasions like the present. The deputation of Chiefs
made three reverences as they drew nigh,—one to the east, a
second to the west, and a third to the Spanish Chieftain. Then,
they spoke through one of their party, a lofty and venerable man,
whose brow and bearing declared for habitual authority, and the
consciousness of power. He demanded briefly—

“Wherefore do you come, stranger? Is it for peace or war?”

Philip de Vasconselos interpreted, and reported the answer for
the Adelantado in the language of Cofachiqui.

“For Peace! we are friends. We ask only for a free passage
through the lands of your people, and their help, with raft and
canoe, in crossing your big rivers. We will pay for these helps
in goods of our country.”

A long and pacific conference followed. The red men were too
well assured of their own power to dread the small array of
strangers before them. They knew not of the fearful weapons
which they bore, and the powerful arts which they possessed.
At the close of the conference, the Chief of the deputation, repeating
his friendly assurances, said that he must receive the
commands of Coçalla, the young Queen, his mistress. She was
young— had but lately assumed dominion over them, and they
were required to consult deliberately before they perilled her
authority, or the peace of the country, by any action of their
own. But he did not doubt, that, from the generous nature of
this princess, she would do all in her power to promote the objects
of the strangers.

They did not err in this conjecture. Perhaps, their own report
prompted her compliance, or, at all events, provoked her curiosity.
It was not long after their return to the settlements, when
the attention of the Spaniards was drawn to shows of great bustle
and preparation along the opposite shore. The crowd continued
to gather. There were sounds of conchs, and the occasional
clamor of rattle and drum, regularly timed, and significant
of a gathering and a march. While the Spaniards gazed,
curious and anxious, a procession was beheld emerging from the
woods, in the midst of which, seated upon a sort of palanquin,
and borne upon the shoulders of six able men, was the form of
a young maiden, who was readily conceived to be the Princess
of the country. The palanquin was wreathed with vines and
flowers, and gay streamers of stained cotton floated above it on
every side. The cushions upon which the damsel half reclined,
rather than sat, were spread with robes of the same richly dyed
material. She was clad in similar stuffs, but of finer quality,
and rich fringe depended from her skirts and shoulders. Her
hair, black as ebony, and glossily bright, floated free, but was
woven thick with ropes of pearl; frequent strands of pearl encircled
her neck, falling free upon her bosom. Her sandals
were also sown with pearl, and she wore anklets of the same
precious decorations. Numerous young girls, bearing baskets of
flowers, and habited like herself, followed in her train; and she
was attended by goodly bands of spearmen and archers, all
richly and picturesquely habited, and equally prepared for action
and display. Before her, went several musicians, who blew the
conch, shook the rattle, beat the drum, and played upon a rude
sort of syrinx made of reeds, which gave forth a long succession
of sweet but melancholy sounds. Others kept pace close beside the
litter, whose office it was to wave before her huge fans of particolored
feathers, the plumage of the wild birds of the Floridian,
gathered from all quarters, and wrought with an art which leaves
the modern fan of Europe but little of superiority to boast.

In this state, the Spaniards were allowed to behold her progress
through the forests for awhile, when she suddenly disappeared
in its deeper recesses with all her train. But her disappearance
was for a brief space only. Very soon a great canoe,
of the largest size and most magnificently decorated, with cushions,
and canopies, and broad fringes and streamers of richly and
variously stained cotton, was seen to emerge from the mouth of
a creek that ran close beside the promontory on which stood the
sylvan temple of Cofachiqui. In this canoe, under the canopy,
reclined the princess in the stern, upon a pile of cushions. She

was attended by eight beautiful girls, only less richly habited
than herself. Her barge was accompanied, or rather led, by
another of like dimensions, in which sat the six chieftains who
had constituted the deputation. A cloud of canoes, of all sizes,
filled with warriors, followed after and closed the procession,
which now, under the impelling strokes of hardy rowers, soon
made its way to the opposite shore. When arrived, the young
princess, unassisted, but followed by all her train, stept fearlessly
to the land, and the Spaniards were greatly struck by the elegant
grace of her movements, the admirable symmetry of her form,
the beauty and innocence, as well as intelligence of her face,
and the picturesque appropriateness of her costume. De Soto
made the most imposing preparations to give her corresponding
welcome. Her obeisance to the Adelantado was full of grace
and dignity; and this made, she seated herself on a sort of stool,
which her attendant had brought with her for the purpose, though
De Soto motioned her to the chair of state from which he himself
had arisen.

A long and interesting conference ensued between the parties,
carried on through Philip de Vasconselos, on whom, it was observed
by more than one, that the fair princess bestowed the
most encouraging smiles, speaking with as much sweetness, as
ease and dignity. But the sad face of Philip never once changed
through the whole conference. He was gentle and respectful,
but calm, subdued, and too melancholy to note how flattering to
himself were the looks of the beautiful Cassique. But Juan, the
page, noted it as well as others; and he turned away from the
sight as if disquieted, and retired iuto the rear, seating himself
gloomily, beneath the old trees of the forest. Juan Ortiz, the
former interpreter, too, was among the persons who thought the
princess was quite too gracious in her bearing to a poor knight
of Portugal, when an Adelantado of the Castilian was present;
and De Soto himself more than once looked on with cloudy
visage, as he beheld the smiles given to Philip, which he thought
were properly due only to himself. The conference was long,
but satisfactory in high degree to the Spaniards. At the close,
and when the princess was about to depart, she rose, and unwinding
the strings of pearl from about her neck, would have
thrown them over that of the interpreter, but he recoiled from
the dangerous honor, and motioned to De Soto. But the princess
hesitated.

“Will not the warrior who speaks of strange things in the ear
of Coçalla, the Queen, wear the pearls which have been about
her neck?”

“Such gifts, beautiful Coçalla, are only for a great chief to
wear. In the noble person who sits in the chair of state, you
behold the great-chief of our people. He will be proud to wear
the pearls of the Queen of Cofachiqui.”

She looked reproachfully at the knight of Portugal, and still
hesitated, the pearls hanging from her hands. De Soto had observed
her movements keenly. He suspected the truth.

“What says she, Don Philip?” was his stern and sudden question
to the knight.

It was with a blush that Philip felt the necessity of evading,
or suppressing, the truth.

“The princess would bestow upon the Adelantado the pearls
which she carries in her hands, but fears to violate decorum. She
would have me bestow them; but I have counselled her that
the honor will be more graciously felt, if she will make the gift
with her own hands.”

“Thou art right,” was the reply of the Adelantado, and he approached
more closely and bowed his head. Slowly and reluctantly
still, but obeying the sign made by Don Philip, the
princess cast the heavy strands over the shoulders of the Adelantado,
who, seizing her hand as she did so, passed a rich gold ring,
with a ruby, over one of her fingers.

With this ceremonial, the conference ended. The princess had
complied with the desires of the Spaniards. Her boats conveyed
them across the river; her people brought them provisions; she
received them in her village with favor; and, for a season, there
was nothing but mutual pleasure and gratification among the
parties. The Spaniards were delighted with the grace and beauty
of the queen, at which they greatly wondered; and she, as well
as her people, was equally charmed with the curious strangers
who brought with them so many strange and charming objects.
In particular, she thought long, and dwelt much, to her attendants,
upon the handsome warrior, whose voice was so sweet within
her ears. She likened his speech to that of the `trick tongue' (the
mock-bird), when it is the season for him to seek out a mate, and
win his favorite by the pleasings of his song.

But Philip retired to sad, rather than sweet thoughts and fancies.
That night, as he sat at his evening meal beneath a tree,
with Juan in attendance, he was unusually sad and spiritless.
Juan was very gloomy, too, but made an effort to revive the
spirits of his master. He was curious, too, and he chose for his
subject the beautiful queen, who was the topic of universal eulogium
among the Spaniards.

“Think you, my Lord, that this woman is so very beautiful?”
asked the boy.

“Woman? Forget you, sirrah, that you are speaking of a
great Princess among her people!” was the sharp reply.

“Pardon me, Señor, but I meant not to offend;” answered
the page with becoming humility—“but—does my Lord think
her so very beautiful?” he persisted.

“She is very beautiful, Juan.”

“That is to say, for a savage Indian?”

“She is one of God's creatures, Juan, and there is no race
without its beauties.”

“But these beauties do not suit the better tastes of a refined
people, Señor. They are too rude; and besides, these beauties
are of the form only; they lack the correspondences of education
and learning, and the charm of accomplishments, such as are
needful to satisfy the desires of a Christian people.”

“Aye, boy; but if the tastes lack, the virtues are not wanting.
There is heart, at least, in the savage rudeness, though it may
lack the artful accomplishments of the refined European. There
is no treachery here—no false faith—no base, degrading passions,
nursed, though they are felt to be vicious, and practised by those
who boast of their higher virtues and their purer tastes. Better
far that there be no accomplishments, such as thou pratest of, if
they are to be allied with foul lusts, practised in secret, to the
grievous peril of the soul, and in despite of that very education
of the mind, which teaches the sin, and the shame, and the horror
of such practice. Better far, the embrace with the rude and
simple woman of the Apalachian, than the whited sepulchres of
Christendom, where all is smooth and shining without, and all
loathsomeness and corruption within. I would rather lay my
head upon the bosom of the simple savage, who is innocent as
she knows nothing, than upon hers, who sins with all her knowledge,
and is treacherous to the very faith which she professes
and believes. Ah! boy—speak to me no more. Thou little
knowest into what a gaping wound thou hast thrust thy torturing
fingers.”

The page said no more that night. He stole away to the solitude
of another thicket, and bitterly did he weep the night away,
with his face buried in the long grasses of the plain.