The Florida Indians

Early Expeditions Of Spanish Adventurers. Ponce De Leon. L. Valasquez De Ayllon. Pamphilo De Narvaez. Fernando De Soto. His Landing And Establishment At Tampa. Story Of John Ortiz, A Spanish Captive Among The Indians.

Few portions of the Western Continent have witnessed such scenes of barbarous warfare between the natives and European adventurers, or between subjects of contending nations at the East, as the long, low peninsula, which lies at the southern extremity of the Atlantic seacoast of the United States. Its whole history is strangely romantic, and might well tempt us away from our subject, were there room to chronicle all the interesting details of its discovery, conquest, and settlement.

The first picture presented to our minds, when we turn back to these early times, is of Juan Ponce de Leon, governor of Porto Rico, led by Indian fables in 1512 to search amid the low islands of the coast for a fountain that should bestow perpetual youth; landing upon the green and flowery shores, and bestowing upon the country its pleasing and musical appellation. All of North America, to the northward and eastward of Mexico, went by the name of Florida, before English settlements were made upon the coast. Failing in his first search, Leon undertook a second expedition into the unknown world, in hopes of finding mines of the precious metals, but was killed in a fight with the natives.

The perfidious Luke Valasquez de Ay lion, in 1518, visited the coast to the northward of Florida, to procure gold and slaves. The kindly natives, whom he tempted on board, were shut under hatches, and conveyed to Cuba. Returning again to the country, he and his party were justly punished for their treachery, nearly all of them being slain by the inhabitants, who, mindful of former injuries, rose upon them unawares, after putting them off their guard by demonstrations of friendship. Those who had been carried into servitude mostly perished, some by voluntary starvation, and others from grief and despair.

The Indians of Florida are represented by all early historians as a high-spirited and courageous race, showing considerable skill in agriculture, and exhibiting marks of far greater civilization than those of the North. It seems not improbable, judging from their traditions, appearance, and customs, that they, as well as the Natchez, had emigrated from Mexico, perhaps at no very remote period. They resided in towns and villages of considerable extent, and showed a degree of resolution and desperate valor, in defending their homes against the murderous Spaniards, which has seldom been equaled. Unappalled by the terrible execution of the unknown weapons of their enemies, who, mounted upon horses (hitherto unknown in the country) and clad in defensive armor, presented a novel and unaccountable spectacle to their wondering eyes, they disputed the invaded territory inch by inch.

Like most of their red brethren, they could not long brook the indignity of slavery; the proud spirit of the Indian can never, like that of the African, be so humbled that his race can continue and multiply in servitude.

The old Portuguese narrator of De Soto's conquest, speaking of the Indian slaves of Cuba, says that their custom was to hang themselves, to escape the toil and degradation of working the mines. He tells of an overseer in the service of Vasco Porcalho, (afterwards De Soto's lieutenant-general,) who, "knowing the Indians under his charge had resolved to hang themselves, went and staid for them at the place where they intended to put this dismal resolution into execution, with a rope in his hand: he told them they must not imagine that any of their designs were hid from him, and that he was come to hang himself with them, that he might torment them in the other world an hundred times more than he had done in this." His expedient had the desired effect upon their superstitious and credulous minds, and, giving up their purpose, they returned submissively to their tasks.

Pamphilo de Narvaez, in April 1528, with a commission from Charles the Fifth to conquer and take possession, landed four hundred men and forty or fifty horses at East Florida. Penetrating the wilderness, they crossed the country to Appalache, sometimes experiencing kind treatment from the Indians, at other times in danger from their attacks. Finding no gold, and but little provision at this town, from which they drove out the inhabitants on their first arrival, the Spaniards shaped their course to the south towards Aute. Tormented by hunger; beset by hidden foes; disheartened by the terrible difficulties which beset their path, from the almost impassable natural conformation of the country; and worn out by incessant exertion, Narvaez and his men reached Aute only to "find it burned and deserted by its inhabitants.

Many of the party having already perished, the rest, hopeless of making further progress by land, set to work to construct boats in which they might reach a port of safety. "With singular ingenuity they prepared tools from the iron of their accoutrements; and, with no further materials than were furnished by the productions of the forest, and the manes, tails, and skins of their horses, five small boats were built. They embarked and set sail, but nearly all perished either by famine or by the dangers of the sea. Only a handful of the number were ever heard from, among whom was Alvar Nunez Cabeza de Vaca. With only four companions he kept on his course to the West, and, after years of peril, hardship, and servitude, reached the Spanish settlements of Mexico.

The next Spanish expedition to Florida was of far more importance and interest than either that had preceded it. The celebrated Fernando de Soto, after acquiring an immense fortune as a companion of Pizarro, at Peru, was moved by the restless spirit of adventure to undertake a more complete examination of the New World opened to Spanish cupidity and curiosity.

With seven ships of his own providing, and accompanied by from six hundred to one thousand warlike and energetic adventurers, many of whom were of noble rank, De Soto set sail, in the month of April, 1538. Upwards of a year was spent, mostly upon the island of Cuba, before the fleet set sail for the Florida coast. In the latter part of May, 1539, the vessels came to anchor off the bay of Espiritu Santo, now Tampa Bay, on the western sea-board, and a large division of soldiers, both horse and foot, were landed. The Indians had taken the alarm, and, although the smoke of their fires had been seen from shipboard in various directions, all had fled from the district, or lay concealed in the thickets. De Soto appears to have been desirous to proceed upon peaceable terms with the natives, but hostilities soon followed. Some skirmishes took place near the point of landing, and the Spaniards speedily possessed themselves of the nearest village, where were the head-quarters of the cacique Ucita or Hiriga. Here De Soto established himself in "the lord's house," which was built upon a mound by the seashore; while the soldiers used the materials of the other buildings in constructing barracks.

At the inland extremity of the town stood the temple devoted by the Indians to religious observances. Over the entrance of this building was the wooden figure of a fowl, having the eyes gilded placed there for the purpose of ornament, or as symbolic of the tutelary deity of the place.

Clearings were now made around the village, to give free scope to the operations of the cavalry, and parties were sent out to explore the country, and to make prisoners who should serve as guides or hostages.

The remembrance of horrible outrages committed upon himself and his people by Narvaez, had so embittered the old chief Hiriga against the whites, that no professions of friendship and good will could appease his hatred. De Soto released prisoners who were taken by his scouting parties, charging them with presents and conciliatory messages for their chief, but all in vain.

In the tangled forests and marshes the Indians were found to be no contemptible opponents. They were de scribed as being "so dexterous fierce and nimble that foot can gain no advantage upon them." Their bows and arrows were so effective that coats of mail did not prove a sufficient protection against their force. The arrows were headed, as usual, with stone, or with fish-bones; those which were made of canes or reeds produced the deadliest effect.

A party under Gallegos, scouring the country a few miles from the camp, attacked a small body of Indians and put them to flight; but, as a horseman was charging with his lance at one of the number, he was amazed to hear him cry out, "Sirs, I am a Christian; do not kill me, nor these poor men, who have given me my life."

Naked, sunburned, and painted, this man was scarce distinguishable from his wild associates. His name was John Ortiz, and he had lived with the Indians twelve years, being one of the few followers of Narvaez who escaped destruction. Since the disastrous failure of that expedition he had made his way to Cuba in a small boat, and had returned again to Florida in a small vessel sent in quest of the lost party. The Indians enticed a few of the crew on shore, and made them prisoners. Ortiz was among the number, and was the only one who escaped immediate death. After amusing themselves by various expedients to terrify and torment their captive, the savages, by the command of their chief, Hiriga, bound him to four stakes, and kindled a fire beneath him. He was preserved, even in this extremity, by the compassionate entreaties and persuasions of a daughter of the cacique. His burns having been healed, he was deputed to keep watch over the temple where the bodies of the dead were deposited, to defend them from attacks of wolves. His vigilance and resolution, in dispatching a wolf, panther, or a "lion," (according to one account) which had seized the body of a child of one of the principal chiefs, aroused a kindly feeling towards him, and he was well used for three years. At the end of that time Hiriga, having been worsted in fight with Moscoso, a hostile chief whose dwelling was at a distance of two days journey, thought it necessary or expedient to make a sacrifice of his Christian subject to the devil. "Seeing," says our Portuguese historian, " the devil holds these people in deplorable bondage, they are accustomed to offer to him the life and blood even of their subjects, or of any body else that falls into their hands."

Forewarned of this danger by his former benefactress, Ortiz fled in the night towards the country of Moscoso. Upon first meeting with the subjects of this chief, he was in great danger from the want of an interpreter to explain whence he came, and what was his errand; but, at last, finding an Indian who understood the language of the people with whom he had lived, he quieted the suspicions of his hosts, and remained with them in friendship no less than nine years. Moscoso, hearing of the arrival of De Soto, generously furnished his captive with an escort, and gave him free permission to return to his countrymen, in accordance with a promise made when Ortiz first came to his territory.

The long-lost Spaniard was joyfully received, with his companions, at De Soto s camp; his services as guide being considered invaluable. In answer to the first inquiry, however, where gold was to be sought, he could give no satisfactory information.

The cacique Moscoso being sent for, soon presented him self at the Spanish encampment, and after spending some clays in familiar intercourse with the wonderful strangers, departed, exulting in the possession of a shirt and other tokens of royal munificence.

Indian Races of North and South America

This site includes some historical materials that may imply negative stereotypes reflecting the culture or language of a particular period or place. These items are presented as part of the historical record and should not be interpreted to mean that the WebMasters in any way endorse the stereotypes implied .

Indian Races of North and South America, By Charles De Wolf Brownell, 1865