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Title: Notes on the Floridian Peninsula; its Literary History, Indian Tribes and Antiquities
Author: Brinton, Daniel G. (Daniel Garrison)
Language: English
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NOTES
ON THE
FLORIDIAN PENINSULA;
ITS
LITERARY HISTORY,
INDIAN TRIBES AND ANTIQUITIES.
BY
DANIEL G. BRINTON, A. B.
PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY JOSEPH SABIN,
NO. 27 SOUTH SIXTH STREET, ABOVE CHESTNUT.
1859.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by
DANIEL G. BRINTON,
In the Clerk’s office of the District Court, in and for the
Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
KING & BAIRD, PRINTERS, PHILADA.
TO THE
LOVERS AND CULTIVATORS
OF THE
HISTORY AND ARCHÆOLOGY OF OUR COUNTRY,
THIS WORK
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,
BY THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE.
The present little work is the partial result of odd hours spent in the
study of the history, especially the ancient history--if by this term I
may be allowed to mean all that pertains to the aborigines and first
settlers--of the peninsula of Florida. In some instances, personal
observations during a visit thither, undertaken for the purposes of
health in the winter of 1856-57, have furnished original matter, and
served to explain, modify, or confirm the statements of previous
writers.
Aware of the isolated interest ever attached to merely local history, I
have endeavored, as far as possible, by pointing out various analogies,
and connecting detached facts, to impress upon it a character of general
value to the archæologist and historian. Should the attempt have been
successful, and should the book aid as an incentive to the rapidly
increasing attention devoted to subjects of this nature, I shall feel
myself amply repaid for the hours of toil, which have also ever been
hours of pleasure, spent in its preparation.
THORNBURY, PENNA., APRIL, 1859.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
LITERARY HISTORY.
PAGE.
Introductory Remarks.--The Early Explorations.--The
French Colonies.--The First Spanish Supremacy.--The
English Supremacy.--The Second Spanish
Supremacy.--The Supremacy of the United States.--Maps
and Charts 13
CHAPTER II.
THE APALACHES.
Derivation of the Name.--Earliest Notices of.--Visited
and Described by Bristock, in 1653.--Authenticity of
his Narrative.--Subsequent History and Final Extinction 92
CHAPTER III.
TRIBES OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
§ 1. SITUATION AND SOCIAL CONDITION.--Caloosas.--Ais
and Tegesta.--Tocobaga.--Vitachuco.--Utina.--Soturiba.--Method
of Government.
§ 2. CIVILIZATION.--Appearance.--Games.--Agriculture.--Construction
of Dwellings.--Clothing.
§ 3. RELIGION.--General Remarks.--Festivals in Honor
of the Sun and Moon.--Sacrifices.--Priests.--Sepulchral
Rites.
§ 4. LANGUAGES.--The Timuquana Tongue.--Words
Preserved by the French 111
CHAPTER IV.
LATER TRIBES.
§ 1. Yemassees.--Uchees.--Apalachicolos.--Migrations
Northwards.
§ 2. Seminoles 139
CHAPTER V.
THE SPANISH MISSIONS.
Early Attempts.--Efforts of Aviles.--Later Missions.--
Extent during the most Flourishing Period.--Decay 150
CHAPTER VI.
ANTIQUITIES.
Mounds.--Roads.--Shell Heaps.--Old Fields 166
APPENDIX I.
The Silver Spring 183
APPENDIX II.
The Mummies of the Mississippi Valley 191
APPENDIX III.
The Precious Metals Possessed by the Early Floridian
Indians 199
THE FLORIDIAN PENINSULA.
CHAPTER I.
LITERARY HISTORY.
Introductory Remarks.--The Early Explorations.--The French
Colonies.--The first Spanish Supremacy.--The English
Supremacy.--The second Spanish Supremacy.--The Supremacy of the
United States.--Maps and Charts.
In the study of special and local history, the inquirer finds his most
laborious task is to learn how much his predecessors have achieved. It
is principally to obviate this difficulty in so far as it relates to a
very interesting, because first settled portion of our country, that I
present the following treatise on the bibliographical history of East
Florida. A few words are necessary to define its limits, and to explain
the method chosen in collocating works.
In reference to the latter, the simple and natural plan of grouping into
one section all works of whatever date, illustrating any one period,
suggests itself as well adapted to the strongly marked history of
Florida, however objectionable it might be in other cases. These periods
are six in number, and consequently into six sections a bibliography
naturally falls. The deeds of the early explorers, the settlement and
subsequent destruction of the French, the two periods when Spain wielded
the sovereign power, the intervening supremacy of England, and lastly,
since it became attached to the United States, offer distinct fields of
research, and are illustrated by different types of books. Such an
arrangement differs not materially from a chronological adnumeration,
and has many advantages of its own.
Greater difficulty has been experienced in fixing the proper limits of
such an essay. East Florida itself has no defined boundaries. I have
followed those laid down by the English in the Definitive Treaty of
Peace of the 10th of February, 1763, when for the first time, East and
West Florida were politically distinguished. The line of demarcation is
here stated as “the Apalachicola or Chataouche river.” The Spaniards
afterwards included all that region lying east of the Rio Perdido. I am
aware that the bibliography of the Spanish settlement is incomplete,
unless the many documents relating to Pensacola are included, but at
present, this is not attempted. It has been deemed advisable to embrace
not only those works specially devoted to this region, but also all
others containing original matter appertaining thereto. Essays and
reviews are mentioned only when of unusual excellence; and a number of
exclusively political pamphlets of recent date have been designedly
omitted.
As I have been obliged to confine my researches to the libraries of this
country, it will be readily understood that a complete list can hardly
be expected. Yet I do not think that many others of importance exist in
Europe, even in manuscript; or if so, they have escaped the scrutiny of
the laborious Gustav Haenel, whose _Catalogi Librorum Manuscriptorum_ I
have examined with special reference to this subject. It is proper to
add that the critical remarks are founded on personal examination in all
cases, except where the contrary is specified.
§ 1.--THE EARLY EXPLORATIONS. 1512-1562.
No distinct account remains of the two voyages (1512, 1521,) of the
first discoverer and namer of Florida, Juan Ponce de Leon. What few
particulars we have concerning them are included in the general
histories of Herrera, Gomara, Peter Martyr, and of lesser writers.
However much the historian may regret this, it has had one
advantage,--the romantic shadowing that hung over his aims and
aspirations is undisturbed, and has given them as peculiar property to
the poet and the novelist.
Of Pamphilo de Narvaez, on the contrary, a much inferior man, we have
far more satisfactory relations. His Proclamation to the Indians[1] has
been justly styled a curious monument of the spirit of the times. It was
occasioned by a merciful(!) provision of the laws of the Indies
forbidding war to be waged against the natives before they had been
formally summoned to recognize the authority of the Pope and His Most
Catholic Majesty. Should, however, the barbarians be so contumacious as
to prefer their ancestral religion to that of their invaders, or their
own chief to the Spanish king, then, says Narvaez, “With the aid of God
and my own sword I shall march upon you; with all means and from all
sides I shall war against you; I shall compel you to obey the Holy
Church and his Majesty; I shall seize you, your wives and your
children; I shall enslave you, shall sell you, or otherwise dispose of
you as His Majesty may see fit; your property shall I take, and destroy,
and every possible harm shall I work you as refractory subjects.” Thus
did cruelty and avarice stalk abroad in the garb of religion, and an
insatiable rapacity shield itself by the precepts of Christianity.
Among the officers appointed by the king to look after the royal
interest in this expedition, holding the post of comptroller or factor
(Tesorero), was a certain Alvar Nuñez, of the distinguished family of
Cabeza de Vaca or the Cow’s Head; deriving their origin and unsonorous
name from Martin Alhaja, a mountaineer of Castro Ferral, who, placing
the bones of a cow’s head as a landmark, was instrumental in gaining for
the Christians the decisive battle of Las Navas de Tolosa (1212), and
was ennobled in consequence. When war, disease, and famine had reduced
the force of Narvaez from three hundred to only half a dozen men, Alvar
Nuñez was one of these, and after seven years wandering, replete with
the wildest adventure, returned to Spain, there to receive the
government of a fleet and the appointment of Adelantado to the
unexplored regions around the Rio de la Plata. Years afterwards, when
his rapacity and reckless tyranny had excited a mutiny among his
soldiers and the animosity of his associates, or, as his defenders
maintain, his success their envy and ill-will, he was arraigned before
the council of the Indies in Spain. While the suit was pending, as a
stroke of policy in order to exculpate his former life and set forth to
the world his steadfast devotion to the interests of the king, in
conjunction with his secretary Pedro Fernandez he wrote and published
two works, one under his own supervision detailing his adventures in
Florida,[2] the other his transactions in South America. Twenty-seven
years had elapsed since the expedition of Narvaez, and probably of the
few that escaped, he alone survived. When we consider this, and the end
for which the book was written, what wonder that we find Alvar Nuñez
always giving the best advice which Narvaez never follows, and always at
hand though other men fail; nor, if we bear in mind the credulous spirit
of the age and nation, is it marvellous that the astute statesman
relates wondrous miracles, even to healing the sick and raising the
dead, that he performed, proving that it was, as he himself says, “the
visible hand of God” that protected him in his perilous roamings. Thus
it happens that his work is “disfigured by bold exaggerations and the
wildest fictions,” tasking even Spanish credulity to such an extent that
Barcia prefaced his edition of it with an _Examen Apologetico_ by the
erudite Marquis of Sorito, who, marshalling together all miraculous
deeds recorded, proves conclusively that Alvar Nuñez tells the truth as
certainly as many venerable abbots and fathers of the Church. However
much this detracts from its trustworthiness, it is invaluable for its
ethnographical data, and as the only extant history of the expedition,
the greatest miracle of all still remaining, that half a dozen
unprotected men, ignorant of the languages of the natives and of their
proper course, should have safely journeyed three thousand miles, from
the bay of Apalache to Sonora in Mexico, through barbarous hordes
continually engaged in internecine war. Of the many eventful lives that
crowd the stormy opening of American history, I know of none more
fraught with peril of every sort, none whose story is more absorbing,
than that of Cabeza de Vaca.
The unfortunate termination of Narvaez’s undertaking had settled
nothing. Tales of the fabulous wealth of Florida still found credence in
Spain; and it was reserved for Hernando de Soto to disprove them at the
cost of his life and fortune. There are extant five original documents
pertaining to his expedition.
First of these in point of time is his commission from the emperor
Charles V.[3]
The next is a letter written by himself to the Municipality of
Santiago,[4] dated July 9, 1539, describing his voyage and
disembarkation. Besides its historical value, which is considerable as
fixing definitely the time and manner of his landing, it has additional
interest as the only known letter of De Soto; short as it is, it reveals
much of the true character of the man. The hopes that glowed in his
breast amid the glittering throng on the quay of San Lucar de Barrameda
are as bright as ever: “Glory be to God,” he exclaims, “every thing
occurs according to His will; He seems to take an especial care of our
expedition, which lives in Him alone, and Him I thank a thousand times.”
The accounts from the interior were in the highest degree encouraging:
“So many things do they tell me of its size and importance,” he says,
speaking of the village of Ocala, “that I dare not repeat them.”
Blissful ignorance of the old cavalier, over which coming misfortune
cast no presageful shadow!
The position that Alvar Nuñez occupied under Narvaez was filled in this
expedition by Luis Hernandez de Biedma, and like Nuñez, he was lucky
enough to be among the few survivors. In 1544, shortly after his return,
he presented the king a brief account of his adventures.[5] He dwells on
no particulars, succinctly and intelligibly mentions their course and
the principal provinces through which they passed, and throws in
occasional notices of the natives. The whole has an air of honest truth,
differs but little from the gentleman of Elvas except in omission, and
where there is disagreement, Biedma is often more probable.
When the enthusiasm for the expedition was at its height, and the flower
of Spanish chivalry was hieing to the little port of San Lucar of
Barrameda, many Portuguese of good estate sought to enroll themselves
beneath its banners. Among these, eight hidalgos sallied forth from the
warlike little town of Elvas (Evora) in the province of Alemtejo.
Fourteen years after the disastrous close of the undertaking, one of
their number published anonymously in his native tongue the first
printed account of it.[6] Now which it was will probably ever remain an
enigma. Because Alvaro Fernandes is mentioned last, he has been supposed
the author,[7] but unfortunately for this hypothesis, Alvaro was killed
in Apalache.[8] So likewise we have notices of the deaths of Andres de
Vasconcelo and Men Roiz Pereira (Men Rodriguez); it is not likely to
have been Juan Cordes from the very brief account of the march of Juan
de Añasco, whom this hidalgo accompanied; so it lies between Fernando
and Estevan Pegado, Benedict Fernandez, and Antonio Martinez Segurado. I
find very slight reasons for ascribing it to either of these in
preference, though the least can be objected to the latter. Owing to
this uncertainty, it is usually referred to as the Portuguese
Gentleman’s Narrative. Whoever he was, he has left us by all odds the
best history of the expedition. Superior to Biedma in completeness, and
to La Vega in accuracy, of a tolerably finished style and seasoned with
a dash of fancy, it well repays perusal even by the general reader.
The next work that comes under our notice is in some respects the most
remarkable in Spanish Historical Literature. When the eminent critic and
historian Prescott awarded to Antonio de Solis the honor of being the
first Spanish writer who treated history as an art, not a science, and
first appreciated the indissoluble bond that should ever connect it to
poetry and belles-lettres, he certainly overlooked the prior claims of
Garcias Laso or Garcilasso de la Vega. Born in Cusco in the year
1539,[9] claiming by his mother the regal blood of the Incas, and by his
father that of the old Spanish nobility, he received a liberal education
both in Peru and Spain. With a mind refined by retirement, an
imagination attuned by a love of poetry and the drama, and with a vein
of delicate humor, he was eminently qualified to enter into the spirit
of an undertaking like De Soto’s. His Conquest of Florida[10] is a true
historical drama, whose catastrophe proves it a tragedy. He is said to
lack the purity of Mariana, and not to equal De Solis in severely
artistic arrangement; but in grace and fascination of style, in gorgeous
and vivid picturing, and in originality of diction--for unlike his
cotemporaries, La Vega modelled his ideas on no Procustean bed of
classical authorship--he is superior to either. None can arise from the
perusal of his work without agreeing with Southey, that it is “one of
the most delightful in the Spanish language.” But when we descend to the
matter of facts and figures, and critically compare this with the other
narratives, we find the Inca always gives the highest number, always
makes the array more imposing, the battle more furious, the victory more
glorious, and the defeat more disastrous than either. We meet with fair
and gentle princesses, with noble Indian braves, with mighty deeds of
prowess, and tales of peril, strange and rare. Yet he strenuously avers
his own accuracy, gives with care his authorities, and vindicates their
veracity. What then were these? First and most important were his
conversations with a noble Spaniard who had accompanied De Soto as a
volunteer. His name does not appear, but so thorough was his information
and so unquestioned his character, that when the Council Royal of the
Indies wished to inquire about the expedition, they summoned him in
preference to all others. What he related verbally, the Inca wrote down,
and gradually moulded into a narrative form. This was already completed
when two written memoirs fell into his hands. Both were short,
inelegant, and obscure, the productions of two private soldiers, Alonso
de Carmona and Juan Coles, and only served to settle with more accuracy
a few particulars. Though the narrative published at Elvas had been out
nearly half a century before La Vega’s work appeared, yet he had
evidently never seen it; a piece of oversight less wonderful in the
sixteenth century than in these index and catalogue days. They differ
much, and although most historians prefer the less ambitious statements
of the Portuguese, the Inca has not been left without defenders.
Chief among these, and very favorably known to American readers, is
Theodore Irving.[11] When this writer was pursuing his studies at
Madrid, he came across La Vega’s Historia. Intensely interested by the
facts, and the happy diction in which they were set forth, he undertook
a free translation; but subsequently meeting with the other narratives,
modified his plan somewhat, aiming to retain the beauties of the one,
without ignoring the more moderate versions of the others. In the
preface and appendix to his History of Florida, he defends the veracity
of the Inca, and exhibits throughout an evident leaning toward his
ampler estimates. His composition is eminently chaste and pleasing, and
La Vega may be considered fortunate in having obtained so congenial an
admirer. Entering fully into the spirit of the age, thoroughly versed in
the Spanish character and language, and with such able command of his
native tongue, it is to be regretted that the duties of his position
have prevented Mr. Irving from further labors in that field for which he
has shown himself so well qualified.
Many attempts have been made to trace De Soto’s route. Those of Homans,
Charlevoix, Guillaume de l’Isle and other early writers were foiled by
their want of correct geographical knowledge.[12] Not till the present
century was anything definite established. The naturalist Nuttall[13]
who had personally examined the regions along and west of the
Mississippi, and Williams[14] who had a similar topographical
acquaintance with the peninsula of Florida, did much toward determining
either extremity of his course, while the philological researches of
Albert Gallatin on the Choktah confederacy[15] threw much light on the
intermediate portion. Dr. McCulloh,[16] whose indefatigable labors in
the field of American archæology deserve the highest praise, combined
the labors of his predecessors and mapped out the march with much
accuracy. Since the publication of his work, Dr. J. W. Monette,[17] Col.
Albert J. Pickett,[18] Alexander Meek,[19] Theodore Irving,[20] Charles
Guyarre,[21] L. A. Wilmer,[22] and others have bestowed more or less
attention to the question. A very excellent resumé of most of their
labors, with an accompanying map, is given by Rye in his introduction to
the Hackluyt Society’s edition of the Portuguese Gentleman’s Narrative,
who also adds a tabular comparison of the statements of this and La
Vega’s account.
From the failure of De Soto’s expedition to the settlement of the French
at the mouth of the St. John’s, no very active measures were taken by
the Spanish government in regard to Florida.
A vain attempt was made in 1549 by some zealous Dominicans to obtain a
footing on the Gulf coast. A record of their voyage, written probably by
Juan de Araña, captain of the vessel, is preserved;[23] it is a confused
account, of little value.
The Compte-Rendu of Guido de las Bazares,[24] who explored Apalache Bay
(Bahia de Miruelo) in 1559, to which is appended an epitome of the
voyage of Angel de Villafañe to the coasts of South Carolina in 1561,
and a letter from the viceroy of New Spain[25] relating to the voyage of
Tristan de Arellano to Pensacola Bay (Santa Maria de Galve), are of
value in verifying certain important dates in the geographical history
of our country; and as they indicate, contrary to the assertion of a
distinguished living historian,[26] that the Spaniards had _not_ wholly
forgotten that land, “the avenues to which death seemed to guard.”
Much more valuable than any of these is the memoir of Hernando
D’Escalante Fontanedo.[27] This writer gives the following account of
himself: born of Spanish parents in the town of Carthagena in 1538, at
the age of thirteen he was sent to Spain to receive his education, but
suffering shipwreck off the Florida coast, was spared and brought up
among the natives, living with various tribes till his thirtieth year.
He adds that in the same ship with him were Don Martin de Guzman,
Hernando de Andino, deputy from Popayan, Alonso de Mesa, and Juan Otis
de Zarate. Now at least one of these, the last mentioned, was never
shipwrecked at any time on Florida, and in the very year of the alleged
occurrence (1551) was appointed captain in a cavalry regiment in Peru,
where he remained for a number of years;[28] nor do I know the slightest
collateral authority for believing that either of the others suffered
such a casuality. He asserts, moreover, that after his return to Spain
he sought the post of interpreter under Aviles, then planning his attack
on the Huguenots. But as this occurred in 1565, how could he have spent
from his thirteenth to his thirtieth year, beginning with 1551, a
prisoner among the Indians? In spite of these contradictions, there
remains enough to make his memoir of great worth. He boasts that he
could speak four Indian tongues, that there were only two with which he
was not familiar, and calls attention to what has since been termed
their “polysynthetic” structure. Thus he mentions that the phrase
_se-le-te-ga, go and see if any one is at the look-out_, is compounded
partially of _tejihue, look-out_; “but in speaking,” he observes, “the
Floridians abridge their words more than we do.” Though he did not
obtain the post of interpreter, he accompanied the expedition of Aviles,
and takes credit to himself for having preserved it from the traitorous
designs of his successful rival: “If I and a mulatto,” he says, “had not
hindred him, all of us would have been killed. Pedro Menendez would not
have died at Santander, but in Florida, where there is neither river nor
bay unknown to me.” For this service they received no reward, and he
complains: “As for us, we have not received any pay, and have returned
with broken health; we have gained very little therefore in going to
Florida, where we received no advancement.” Muñoz appended the following
note to this memoir: “Excellent account, though of a man unaccustomed to
writing, which is the cause of the numerous meaningless passages it
contains.” Ternaux-Compans adds: “Without finding, as Muñoz, this
account excellent, I thought it best to insert it here as containing
valuable notices of the geography of Florida. It is often
unintelligible; and notwithstanding all the pains I have taken in the
translation, I must beg the indulgence of the reader.” The geographical
notices are indeed valuable, particularly in locating the ancient Indian
tribes. The style is crude and confused, but I find few passages so
unintelligible as not to yield to a careful study and a comparison with
cotemporary history. The memoir is addressed, “Tres puissant Seigneur,”
and was probably intended to get its author a position. The date of
writing is nowhere mentioned, but as it was not long after the death of
Aviles (1574), we cannot be far wrong in laΔιονυσιαying it about 1580.
§ 2.--THE FRENCH COLONIES. 1562-1567.
Several distinct events characterize this period of Floridian history.
The explorations and settlements of the French, their extirpation by the
Spaniards and the founding of St. Augustine, the retaliation of De
Gourgues ----, as they constitute separate subjects of investigation, so
they may be assumed as nuclei around which to group extant documents.
Compendiums of the whole by later writers form an additional class.
First in point of time is Jean Ribaut’s report to Admiral Coligny. This
was never printed in the original, but by some chance fell into the
hands of an Englishman, who published it less than ten months after its
writer’s return.[29] “The style of this translation is awkward and
crude, but the matter is valuable, embracing many particulars not to be
found in any other account; and it possesses a peculiar interest as
being all that is known to have come from the pen of Ribault.”[30]
René Laudonniére, Ribaut’s companion and successor in command, a French
gentleman of good education and of cultivated and easy composition,
devotes the first of his three letters to this voyage. For the
preservation of his writings we are indebted to the collector Basanier,
whose volume of voyages will be noticed hereafter. The two narratives
differ in no important particulars, and together convey a satisfactory
amount of information.
The second letter of Laudonniére, this time chief in command, is the
principal authority on the next expedition of the French to Florida. It
is of great interest no less to the antiquarian than the historian, as
the dealings of the colonists continually brought them in contact with
the natives, and the position of Laudonniére gave him superior
opportunities for studying their manners and customs. Many of his
descriptions of their ceremonies are as minute and careful as could be
desired, though while giving them he occasionally pauses to excuse
himself for dealing with such trifles.
Besides this, there is a letter from a volunteer of Rouen to his father,
without name or date.[31] Interior evidence, however, shows it was
written during the summer of 1564, and sent home by the return vessels
which left Florida on the 28th July of that year. This was the earliest
account of the French colony printed on the continent. Its contents
relate to the incidents of the voyage, the manners of the “sauvages,”
and the building of the fort, with which last the troops were busied at
the time of writing.
This and Ribaut’s report made up the scanty knowledge of the colonies of
Coligny to be found in Europe up to the ever memorable year 1565;
memorable and infamous for the foulest crime wherewith fanaticism had
yet stained the soil of the New World; memorable and glorious, for in
that year the history of our civilization takes its birth with the first
permanent settlement north of Mexico. Two nations and two religions came
into conflict. Fortunately we are not without abundant statements on
each side. Five eyewitnesses lived to tell the world the story of
fiendish barbarity, or divine Nemesis, as they variously viewed it.
On the former side, the third and last letter of Laudonniére is a brief
but interesting record. Simple, straightforward, it proves him a brave
man and worthy Christian. He lays much blame on the useless delay of
Ribaut, and attributes to it the loss of Florida.
Much more complete is the pleasing memoir of N. C. Challeux (Challus,
Challusius.)[32] He tells us in his dedicatory epistle that he was a
native of Dieppe, a carpenter by trade, and over sixty years of age at
the time of the expedition. In another passage he remarks, “Old man as
I am, and all grey.”[33] He escaped with Laudonniére from Fort Caroline,
and depicts the massacre and subsequent events with great truth and
quaintness. He is somewhat of a poet, somewhat of a scholar, and not a
little of a moralizer. At the beginning of the first edition are verses
descriptive of his condition after his return, oppressed by poverty,
bringing nought from his long rovings but “a beautiful white staff in
his hand.” “The volume closes with another effusion of his muse,
expressing the joy he felt at again beholding his beloved city of
Dieppe.”[34] He is much given to diverging into prayers and pious
reflections on the ups and downs of life, the value of contentment, and
kindred subjects, seasoning his lucubrations with classical allusions.
When Laudonniére was making up the complement of his expedition he did
not forget to include a cunning limner, so that the pencil might aid the
pen in describing the marvels of the New World he was about to visit.
This artist, a native of Dieppe, Jacques le Moyne de Morgues by name,
escaped at the massacre by the Spanish, returned with Laudonniére, and
with him left the ship when it touched the coast of England. Removing to
London he there married, and supported himself by his profession. During
the leisure hours of his after years he sketched from memory many scenes
from his voyage, adding in his native language a brief description of
each, aiding his recollection by the published narratives of Challeux
and Laudonniére, duly acknowledging his indebtedness.[35] These
paintings were familiar to Hackluyt, who gives it as one reason for
translating the collection of Basanier, that the exploits of the French,
“and diver other things of chiefest importance are lively drawn in
colours at your no smal charges by the skillful painter James Morgues,
sometime living in the Blackfryers in London.”[36] When the enterprising
engraver De Bry came to London in 1587, intent on collecting materials
for his great work the _Peregrinationes_, he was much interested in
these sketches, and at the death of the artist, which occurred about
this time, obtained them from his widow with their accompanying
manuscripts. They are forty-three in number, principally designed to
illustrate the life and manners of the natives, and, with a map, make up
the second part of De Bry’s collection. Each one is accompanied by a
brief, well-written explanation in Latin, and at the close a general
narrative of the expedition; together, they form a valuable addition to
our knowledge of the aboriginal tribes and the proceedings of the
Huguenots on the Riviére Mai.
The Spanish accounts, though agreeing as regards the facts with those of
their enemies, take a very different theoretical view. In them, Aviles
is a model of Christian virtue and valor, somewhat stern now and then,
it is true, but not more so than the Church permitted against such stiff
necked heretics. The massacre of the Huguenots is excused with cogent
reasoning; indeed, what need of any excuse for exterminating this nest
of pestilent unbelievers? Could they be ignorant that they were breaking
the laws of nations by settling on Spanish soil? The Council of the
Indies argue the point and prove the infringement in a still extant
document.[37] Did they imagine His Most Catholic Majesty would pass
lightly by this taunt cast in the teeth of the devoutest nation of the
world?
The best known witness on their side is Don Solis de Meras. His
_Memorial de todas las Jornadas y Sucesos del Adelantado Pedro Menendez
de Aviles_, has never been published separately, but all the pertinent
portions are given by Barcia in the _Ensayo Cronologico para la Historia
de la Florida_, with a scrupulous fidelity (sin abreviar su contexto, ni
mudar su estilo). It was apparently written for Aviles, from the
archives of whose family it was obtained by Barcia. It is an interesting
and important document, the work of a man not unaccustomed to using the
pen.
Better than it, however, and entering more fully into the spirit of the
undertaking, is the memoir of Lopez de Mendoza Grajales,[38] chaplain to
the expedition, and a most zealous hater of heretics. He does not aim at
elegance of style, for he is diffuse and obscure, nor yet at a careful
historical statement, for he esteems lightly common facts, but he does
strive to show how the special Providence of God watched over the
enterprise, how divers wondrous miracles were at once proof and aid of
the pious work, and how in sundry times and places God manifestly
furthered the holy work of bloodshed. A useful portion of his memoir is
that in which he describes the founding of St. Augustine, entering into
the movements of the Spaniards with more detail than does the
last-mentioned writer.
When the massacre of the 19th September, 1565, became known in Europe,
“the French were wondrously exasperated at such cowardly treachery, such
detestable cruelty.”[39] Still more bitterly were they aroused when they
learned the inexcusable butchery of Ribaut and his men. These had been
wrecked on the Floridian shore, and with difficulty escaped the waves
only to fall into the hands of more fell destroyers on land. When this
was heard at their homes, their “widows, little orphan children, and
their friends, relatives and connections,” drew up and presented to
Charles IXL., a petition,[40] generally known as the _Epistola_
_Supplicatoria_, setting forth the facts of the case and demanding
redress.
Though the weak and foolish monarch paid no marked attention to this, a
man arose who must ever be classed among the heroes of history. This was
Dominique de Gourgues, a high born Bourdelois, who, inspired with an
unconquerable desire to wreak vengeance on the perpetrators of the
bloody deed, sold his possessions, and by this and other means raised
money sufficient to equip an expedition. His entire success is well
known. Of its incidents, two, histories are extant, both by unknown
hands, and both apparently written some time afterwards. It is even
doubtful whether either writer was an eyewitness. Both, however, agree
in all main facts.
The one first written and most complete lay a long time neglected in the
Bibliotheque du Roi.[41] Within the present century it has been twice
published from the original manuscript. It commences with the discovery
of America by Columbus; is well composed by an appreciative hand, and
has a pleasant vein of philosophical comment running throughout. The
details of the voyage are given in a careful and very satisfactory
manner.
The other is found in Basanier, under the title “Le Quatrièsme Voyage
des François en la Floride, sous le capitaine Gourgues, en l’an 1567;”
and, except the Introduction, is the only portion of his volume not
written by Laudonniére. By some it is considered merely an epitome of
the former, but after a careful comparison I am more inclined to
believe it writen by Basanier himself, from the floating accounts of his
day or from some unknown relator. This seems also the opinion of his
late editor.
The manuscript mentioned by Charlevoix as existing in his day in the
family of De Gourgues, was either a copy of one of these or else a third
of which we have no further knowledge.
Other works may moulder in Spanish libraries on this part of our
narrative. We know that Barcia had access to certain letters and papers
(Cartas y Papeles) of Aviles himself, which have never been published,
and possessed the original manuscripts of the learned historiographer
Pedro Hernandez del Pulgar, among which was a _Historia de la Florida_,
containing an account of the French colonies written for Charles II. But
it is not probable that these would add any notable increment to our
knowledge.
The Latin tract of Levinus Apollonius,[42] of extreme rarity, a copy of
which I have never seen, is probably merely a translation of Challeux or
Ribaut, as no other original account except the short letter sent to
Rouen had been printed up to the date of its publication. This
Apollonius, whose real name does not appear, was a German, born near
Bruges, and died at the Canary Islands on his way to America. He is
better known as the author of _De Peruviæ Inventione, Libri V.,
Antwerpiæ_, 1567,[43] a scarce work, not without merit. On the fly-leaf
of the copy in the Yale College library is the following curious note:
“Struvius in Bibl. Antiq. hunc librum laudibus affert; et inter raros
adnumerant David Clement, Bibl. Curieuse, Tom. I.; pag; 403, Jo. Vogt,
Catal; libror; rarior; pag; 40, Freytag in Analec; Literar; pag; 31.”
Some hints of the life of Levinus may be found in his Epistola
Nuncupatoria to this work, and there is a scanty article on him in the
Biographie Universelle.
A work of somewhat similar title[44] was published in 1578 by Vignon at
Geneva appended to Urbain Chauveton’s (Urbanus Calveton’s) Latin
translation of Benzoni. It is hardly anything more than a translation of
Challeux, whom indeed Chauveton professes to follow, with some details
borrowed from André Thevet which the latter must have taken from the
MSS. of Laudonniére. The first chapter and two paragraphs at the end are
his own. In the former he says “he had been chiefly induced to add this
short history to Benzoni’s work, in consequence of the Spaniards at the
time perpetrating more atrocious acts of cruelty in the Netherlands than
they had ever committed upon the savages.”
Items of interest are also found in the general histories of De Thou,
(Thuanus,) a cotemporary, of L’Escarbot, of Charlevoix, and other
writers.
* * * * *
In our own days, what the elegant pen of Theodore Irving has
accomplished for the expedition of De Soto, has been done for the early
settlements on the St. Johns by the talented author of the Life of
Ribault.[45] He has no need of praise, whose unremitting industry and
tireless endeavors to preserve the memory of their forefathers are so
well known and justly esteemed by his countrymen as Jared Sparks. With
what thoroughness and nice discrimination he prosecutes his researches
can only be fully appreciated by him who has occasion to traverse the
same ground. His work is one of those finished monographs that leave
nothing to be desired either as respects style or facts in the field to
which it is devoted--a field “the most remarkable in the early history
of that part of America, now included in the United States and Canada,
as well in regard to its objects as its incidents.” Appended to the
volume is an “Account of the Books relating to the Attempts of the
French to found a Colony in Florida.” The reader will have seen that
this has been of service to me in preparing the analogous portion of
this essay; and I have had the less hesitation in citing Mr. Sparks’
opinions, from a feeling of entire confidence in his judgment.
* * * * *
Before closing these two periods of bibliographical history, the labors
of the collectors Basanier and Ternaux Compans, to whom we owe so much,
should not pass unnoticed. The former is the editor of the letters of
Laudonniére, three in number, describing the voyage of Ribaut, the
building of Fort Caroline, and its destruction by the Spaniards, to
which he adds an introduction on the manners and customs of the Indians,
also by Laudonniére, and an account of the voyage of De Gourgues.[46]
In this he was assisted by Hackluyt, who speaks of him as “my learned
friend M. Martine Basanier of Paris,” and who translated and published
his collection the year after its first appearance. Little is known of
Basanier personally; mention is made by M. de Fétis in his Biographie
des Musiciens of a certain Martin Basanier who lived about this time,
and is probably identical. In the same year with his collection on
Florida he published a translation of Antonio de Espejo’s History of the
Discovery of New Mexico. The dedication of the “Histoire Notable” is to
the “Illustrious and Virtuous Sir Walter Raleigh.” According to the
custom of those days, it is introduced by Latin and French verses from
the pens of J. Auratus (Jacques Doré?), Hackluyt, and Basanier himself.
As a curious specimen of its kind I subjoin the anagram of the latter on
Walter Raleigh:
“WALTER RALEGH.
_La vertu l’ha à gré._
En _Walter_ cognoissant _la vertu_ s’estre enclose,
J’ay combiné _Ralegh_, pour y voir quelle chose
Pourroit à si beau nom convenir à mon gré;
J’ay trouvé que c’estoit; _la vertu l’ha à gré_.”
The first edition is rare, and American historians are under great
obligations to the Parisian publishers for producing a second, and for
preserving the original text with such care.
The labors of Ternaux Compans throughout the entire domain of early
American history, his assiduity in collecting and translating
manuscripts, and in republishing rare tracts, are too well known and
generally appreciated to need special comment. Among his volumes there
is one devoted to Florida, containing eleven scarce or inedited
articles, all of which are of essential importance to the historian.[47]
These have been separately considered previously, in connection with the
points of history they illustrate.
§ 3.--THE FIRST SPANISH SUPREMACY. 1567-1763.
After the final expulsion of the French, Spain held the ascendancy for
nearly two hundred years. Her settlements extended to the south and
west, the natives were generally tractable, and at one period the colony
flourished; yet there is no more obscure portion of the history of the
region now included in the United States. Except the Chronological Essay
of Barcia, which extends over only a fraction of this period, the
accounts are few in number, meagre in information, and in the majority
of instances, quite inaccessible in this country.
The verbal depositions of Pedro Morales and Nicolas Bourguignon,[48]
captives brought by Sir Francis Drake to London, from his attack on St.
Augustine, (1586,) are among the earliest notices we possess. They were
written out by Richard Hackluyt, and inserted in his collection as an
appendix to Drake’s Voyage. Both are very brief, neither filling one of
his folio pages; they speak of the Indian tribes in the vicinity, but in
a confused and hardly intelligible manner. Nicolas Bourguignon was a
Frenchman by birth, and had been a prisoner among the Spaniards for
several years. He is the “Phipher,” mentioned in Drake’s account, who
escaped from his guards and crossed over to the English, playing the
while on his fife the march of the Prince of Orange, to show his
nationality.
Towards the close of the century, several works were published in Spain,
of which we know little but their titles. Thus, mention is made of a
geographical description of the country (_Descripcion y Calidades de la
Florida_) by Barrientes, Professor of the Latin language at the
University of Salamanca, about 1580. It is probably nothing more than an
extract from the _Cosmographia_, attributed by some to this writer.
Also, about the same time, Augustin de Padilla Davila, a Dominican, and
Bishop of St. Domingo, published an ecclesiastical history of the See of
Mexico and the progress of the faith in Florida.[49] Very little,
however, had been achieved that early in the peninsular and consequently
his work would in this respect interest us but little. The reports of
the proceedings of the Council of the Indies, doubtless contain more or
less information in regard to Florida; Barcia refers especially to those
published in 1596.[50]
Early in the next century there appeared an account of the Franciscan
missionaries who had perished in their attempts to convert the savages
of Florida.[51] The author, Geronimo de Ore, a native of Peru, and who
had previously filled the post of Professor of Sacred Theology in Cusco,
was, at the time of writing, commissary of Florida, and subsequently
held a position in the Chilian Church, (deinde commissarius Floridæ,
demum imperialis civitatis Chilensis regni antistes.)[52] He was a man
of deep erudition, and wrote various other works “very learned and
curious,” (mui doctos y curiosos.[53])
Pursuing a chronological order, this brings us to the peculiarly
interesting and valuable literature of the Floridian aboriginal tongues.
Here, as in other parts of America, we owe their preservation mainly to
the labors of missionaries.
As early as 1568, Padre Antonio Sedeño, who had been deputed to the
province of Guale, now Amelia Island, between the mouths of the rivers
St. Johns and St. Marys, drew up a grammar and catechism of the
indigenous language.[54] It was probably a scion of the Muskohge
family, but as no philologist ever examined Sedeño’s work--indeed, it is
uncertain whether it was ever published--we are unprepared to speak
decisively on this point.
The only works known to be in existence are those of Franceso de
Pareja.[55] He was a native of the village of Auñon,[56] embraced the
Franciscan theology, and was one of the twelve priests dispatched to
Florida by the Royal Council of the Indies in 1592. He arrived there two
years afterwards, devoted himself to converting the natives for a series
of years, and about 1610 removed to the city of Mexico. Here he
remained till the close of his life, in 1638, (January 25, 0. S.,)
occupied in writing, publishing, and revising a grammar of the Timuquana
language, prevalent around and to the north of St. Augustine, and
devotional books for the use of the missionaries. They are several in
number, but all of the utmost scarcity. I cannot learn of a single copy
in the libraries of the United States, and even in Europe; Adelung, with
all his extensive resources for consulting philological works, was
obliged to depend altogether on the extracts of Hervas, who, in turn,
confesses that he never saw but one, and that a minor production of
Pareja. This is the more to be regretted, as any one in the slightest
degree acquainted with American philology must be aware of the absolute
dearth of all linguistic knowledge concerning the tribes among whom he
resided. His grammar, therefore, is second to none in importance, and no
more deserving labor could be pointed out than that of rendering it
available for the purposes of modern research by a new edition.
A _Doctrina Cristiana_ and a treatise on the administration of the
Sacraments are said to have been written in the Tinqua language of
Florida by Fray Gregorio Morrilla, and published “the first at Madrid,
1631, and afterwards reprinted at Mexico, 1635, and the second at
Mexico, 1635.”[57] What nation this was, or where they resided is
uncertain.
The manuscript dictionary and catechism of the Englishman Andrew Vito,
“en Lengua de Mariland en la Florida,” mentioned in Barcia’s edition of
Pinelo, and included by Ludewig among the works on the Timuquana
tongue, evidently belonged to a language far to the north of this,
probably to one spoken by a branch of the Lenni Lennapes.
Throughout the seventeenth century notices of the colony are very rare.
Travellers the most persistent never visited it. One only, Francesco
(François) Coreal, a native of Carthagena in South America, who spent
his life in wandering from place to place in the New World, seems to
have recollected its existence. He was at St. Augustine in 1669, and
devotes the second chapter of his travels to the province.[58] It
derives its value more from the lack of other accounts than from its own
intrinsic merit. His geographical notions are not very clear at best,
and they are hopelessly confounded by the interpolations of his ignorant
editor. The authenticity of his production has been questioned, and even
his own existence disputed, but no reasonable doubts of either can be
entertained after a careful examination of his work.
Various attempts were made by the Spanish to obtain a more certain
knowledge of the shores and islands of the Gulf of Mexico during this
period. A record of those that took place between 1685 and 1693[59] is
mentioned by Barcia, but whether it was ever published or not, does not
appear.
About this time the Franciscan Juan Ferro Macuardo occupied the post of
inspector (Visitador General) of the church in Florida under the
direction of the bishop of Cuba. Apparently he found reason to be
displeased with the conduct of certain of the clergy there, and with the
general morality of the missions, and subsequently, in his memorial to
the king,[60] handled without gloves these graceless members of the
fraternity, telling truths unpleasant to a high degree. In consequence
of these obnoxious passages, its sale was prohibited by the church on
the ground that such revelations could result in no advantage.[61]
Whether this command was carried out or not,--and it is said to have
been evaded--the work is rare in the extreme, not being so much as
mentioned by the most comprehensive bibliographers. Its value is
doubtless considerable, as fixing the extent of the Spanish settlements,
at this, about the most flourishing period of the colony. The
_Respuesta_ which it provoked from the pen of Francisco de Ayeta, is
equally scarce.
The next book that comes under our notice we owe to the misfortune of a
shipwreck. On the “twenty-third of the seventh month,” 1696, a bark,
bound from Jamaica to the flourishing colony of Philadelphia, was
wrecked on the Floridian coast, near Santa Lucea, about 27° 8´, north
latitude. The crew were treated cruelly by the natives and only saved
their lives by pretending to be Spaniards. After various delays and much
suffering they prevailed on their captors to conduct them to St.
Augustine. Here Laureano de Torres, the governor, received them with
much kindness, relieved their necessities, and furnished them with
means to return home. Among the passengers was a certain Jonathan
Dickinson a Quaker resident in Pennsylvania. On his arrival home, he
published a narrative of his adventures,[62] that attracted sufficient
attention to be reprinted in the mother country and translated into
German. It is in the form of a diary, introduced by a preface of ten
pages filled with moral reflections on the beneficence of God and His
ready help in time of peril. The style is cramped and uncouth, but the
many facts it contains regarding the customs of the natives and the
condition of the settlement give it value in the eyes of the historian
and antiquarian. Among bibliopolists the first edition is highly prized
as one of the earliest books from the Philadelphia press. The printer,
Reinier Jansen, was “an apprentice or young man” of William Bradford,
who, in 1688, published a little sheet almanac, the first printed matter
in the province.[63] After his return the author resided in Philadelphia
till his death, in 1722, holding at one time the office of Chief Justice
of Pennsylvania. He must not be confounded with his better known
cotemporary of the same name, staunch Presbyterian, and first president
of the College of New Jersey, of much renown in the annals of his time
for his fervent sermons and addresses.
The growing importance of the English colonies on the north, and the
aggressive and irritable character of their settlers, gave rise at an
early period of their existence to bitter feelings between them and
their more southern neighbors, manifested by a series of attacks and
reprisals on both sides, kept alive almost continually till the cession
to England in 1763. So much did the Carolinians think themselves
aggrieved, that as early as 1702, Colonel Moore, then governor of the
province, made an impotent and ill-advised attempt to destroy St.
Augustine; for which valorous undertaking his associates thought he
deserved the fools-cap, rather than the laurel crown. An account of his
Successes,[64] or more properly Misfortunes, published in England the
same year; is of great rarity and has never come under my notice. Of his
subsequent expedition, undertaken in the winter of 1703-4, for the
purpose of wiping away the stigma incurred by his dastardly retreat,
so-called, from St. Augustine, we have a partial account in a letter
from his own pen to Sir Nathaniel Johnson, his successor in the
gubernatorial post. It was published the next May in the Boston News,
and has been reprinted by Carroll in his Historical Collections. The
precise military force in Florida at this time may be learned from the
instructions given to Don Josef de Zuñiga, Governor-General in 1703,
preserved by Barcia.
Some years afterwards Captain T. Nairns, an Englishman, accompanied a
band of Yemassees on a slave hunting expedition to the peninsula. He
kept a journal and took draughts on the road, both of which were in the
possession of Herman Moll,[65] but they were probably never published,
nor does this distinguished geographer mention them in any of his
writings on his favorite science.
Governor Oglethorpe renewed these hostile demonstrations with vigor. His
policy, exciting as it did much odium from one party and some discussion
in the mother country, gave occasion to the publication of several
pamphlets. Those that more particularly refer to his expedition against
the Spanish, are three in number,[66] and, together with his own letters
to his patrons, the Duke of Newcastle and Earl of Oxford,[67] and those
of Captain McIntosh, leader of the Highlanders, and for some time a
captive in Spain, which are still preserved in manuscript in the
Library of the Georgia Historical Society,[68] furnish abundant
information on the English side of the question; while the
correspondence of Manuel de Montiano, Captain-General of Florida,
extending over the years 1737-40, a part of which has been published by
Captain Sprague[69] and Mr. Fairbanks,[70] but the greater portion still
remaining inedited in the archives of St. Augustine, offers a full
exposition of the views of their opponents.
A very important document bearing on the relations between the rival
Spanish and English colonies, is the Report of the Committee appointed
by the Commons House of Assembly of Carolina, to examine into the cause
of the failure of Oglethorpe’s expedition. In the Introduction[71] are
given a minute description of the town, castle and military condition of
St. Augustine, and a full exposition of the troubles between the two
colonies, from the earliest settlement of the English upon the coast.
Coming from the highest source, it deserves entire confidence.
Besides these original authorities, the biographies of Governor
Oglethorpe, by W. B. O. Peabody, in Sparks’ American Biography, by
Thomas Spalding, in the publications of the Georgia Historical Society,
and especially that by the Rev. T. M. Harris, are well worthy of
comparison in this connection.
In the catalogue of those who have done signal service to American
history by the careful collation of facts and publication of rare or
inedited works, must ever be enrolled among the foremost Andres Gonzales
Barcia. His three volumes of Historiadores Primitivos de las Indias
Occidentales, are well known to every one at all versed in the founts of
American history. His earliest work of any note, published many years
before this, is entitled A Chronological Essay on the History of
Florida.[72] He here signs himself, by an anagram on his real name, Don
Gabriel de Cardenas z Cano, and is often referred to by this assumed
title. In accordance with Spanish usage, under the term Florida, he
embraced all that part of the continent north of Mexico, and
consequently but a comparatively small portion is concerned with the
history of the peninsula. What there is, however, renders it the most
complete, and in many cases, the only source of information. The account
of the French colonies is minute, but naturally quite one-sided. He is
“in all points an apologist for his countrymen, and an implacable enemy
to the Heretics, the unfortunate Huguenots, who hoped to find an asylum
from persecution in the forests of the New World.”[73] The Essay is
arranged in the form of annals, divided into decades and years,
(Decadas, Años,) and extends from 1512 to 1723, inclusive. Neither this
nor any of his writings can boast of elegance of style. In some portions
he is even obscure, and at best is not readable by any but the professed
historian. Among writers in our own tongue, for indefatigability in
inquiry, for assiduity in collecting facts and homeliness in presenting
them, he may not inaptly be compared to John Strype, the persevering
author of the Ecclesiastical Memorials.
His work was severely criticised at its appearance by Don Josef de
Salazar, historiographer royal to Philip V, “a man of less depth of
research and patient investigation than Barcia, but a more polished
composer.” He was evidently actuated in part by a jealousy of his
rival’s superior qualifications for his own post. The criticism repays
perusal. None of Salazar’s works are of any standing, and like many
another, he lives in history only by his abuse of a more capable man.
In the preface to his History of Florida, Mr. Williams informs us that
he had in his possession “a rare and ancient manuscript in the Spanish
language, in which the early history of Florida was condensed, with a
regular succession of dates and events.” He adds, that the information
here contained about the Catholic missions and the extent of the Spanish
power had been “invaluable” to him. If this was an authentic manuscript,
it probably dated from this period. Williams obtained it from Mr. Fria,
an alderman of New York, and not understanding the language himself, had
it translated. It is to be regretted that he has not imparted more of
the “invaluable information” to his readers. The only passages which he
quotes directly, induce me to believe that he was imposed upon by a
forgery, or, if genuine, that the account was quite untrustworthy. Thus
it spoke of a successful expedition for pearls to Lake Myaco, or
Okee-chobee, which I need hardly say, is a body of fresh water, where
the _Mya margaratifera_ could not live. The extent of the Franciscan
missions is grossly exaggerated, as I shall subsequently show. Rome at
no time chartered a great religious province in Florida, whose principal
house was at St. Augustine;[74] nor does Mr. Williams’ work exhibit any
notable influx of previously unknown facts about the native tribes,
though he says on this point, his manuscript was especially copious. On
the whole, we need not bewail the loss, or lament the non-publication of
this record.
The latest account of the Spanish colony during this period, is that by
Captain Robinson, who visited the country in 1754. It is only a short
letter, and is found appended to Roberts’ History of Florida.
In the language of the early geographers, however, this name had a far
more extensive signification, and many books bear it on their title
pages which have nothing to do with the peninsula. Thus an interesting
tract in Peter Force’s collection entitled “A Relation of a Discovery
lately made on the Coast of Florida,” is taken up altogether with the
shores of South Carolina. The superficial and trifling book of Daniel
Coxe, insignificant in everything but its title, proposes to describe
the Province “by the Spaniards called Florida,” whereas the region now
bearing this name, was the only portion of the country east of the
Mississippi and south of the St. Lawrence _not_ included in the
extensive claim the work was written to defend. In the same category is
Catesby’s Natural History of Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands.
This distinguished naturalist during his second voyage to America,
(1722) spent three years in Carolina, “and in the adjacent parts, which
the Spaniards call Florida, particularly that province lately honored
with the name of Georgia.” How much time he spent in the peninsula, or
whether he was there at all, does not appear.
§ 4.--THE ENGLISH SUPREMACY. 1763-1780.
No sooner had England obtained possession of her new colony than a
lively curiosity was evinced respecting its capabilities and prospects.
To satisfy this, William Roberts, a professional writer, and author of
several other works, compiled a natural and civil history of the
country, which was published the year of the cession, under the
supervision of Thomas Jefferys, geographer royal.[75] It ran through
several editions, and though it has received much more praise than is
its proper due, it certainly is a useful summary of the then extant
knowledge of Florida, and contains some facts concerning the Indians not
found in prior works. The natural history of the country is mentioned
nowhere out of the title page; the only persons who paid any attention
worth speaking of to this were the Bartrams, father and son. Their works
come next under our notice.
John Bartram was born of a Quaker family in Chester county,
Pennsylvania, in 1701. From his earliest youth he manifested that
absorbing love for the natural sciences, especially botany, that in
after years won for him from no less an authority than the immortal
Linnæus, the praise of being “the greatest botanist in the New World.”
He was also the first in point of time. Previously all investigations
had been prosecuted by foreigners in a vague and local manner. Bartram
went far deeper than this. On the pleasant banks of the Schuylkill, near
Philadelphia, he constructed the first botanic garden that ever graced
the soil of the New World; here to collect the native flora, he esteemed
no journey too long or too dangerous. After the cession, he was
appointed “Botanist to His Majesty for both the Floridas,” and though
already numbering over three-score years, he hastened to visit that land
whose name boded so well for his beloved science. Accompanied only by
his equally enthusiastic son William, he ascended the St. Johns in an
open boat as far as Lake George, daily noting down the curiosities of
the vegetable kingdom, and most of the time keeping a thermometrical
record. On his return, he sent his journal to his friends in England
under whose supervision, though contrary to his own desire, it was
published.[76] It makes a thin quarto, divided into two parts paged
separately. The first is a general description of the country,
apparently a reprint of an essay by the editor, Dr. Stork, a botanist
likewise, and member of the Royal Society, who had visited Florida. The
second part is Bartram’s diary, enriched with elaborate botanical notes
and an Introduction by the editor. It is merely the daily jottings of a
traveller and could never have been revised; but the matter is valuable
both to the naturalist and antiquary.
The younger Bartram could never efface from his memory the quiet beauty
and boundless floral wealth of the far south. About ten years afterwards
therefore, when Dr. Fothergill and other patrons had furnished him the
means to prosecute botanical researches throughout the Southern States,
he extended his journey to Florida. He made three trips in the
peninsula, one up the St. Johns as far as Long Lake, a second from “the
lower trading house,” where Palatka now stands, across the savannas of
Alachua to the Suwannee, and another up the St. Johns, this time
ascending no further than Lake George. The work he left is in many
respects remarkable;[77] “it is written” said Coleridge “in the spirit
of the old travellers.” A genuine love of nature pervades it, a deep
religious feeling breathes through it, and an artless and impassioned
eloquence graces his descriptions of natural scenery, rendering them
eminently vivid and happy. With all these beauties, he is often turgid
and verbose, his transitions from the sublime to the common-place jar on
a cultivated ear, and he is too apt to scorn anything less than a
superlative. Hence his representations are exaggerated, and though they
may hold true to him who sees unutterable beauties in the humblest
flower, to the majority they seem the extravaganzas of fancy. He is
generally reliable, however, in regard to single facts, and as he was a
quick and keen observer of every remarkable object about him, his work
takes a most important position among our authorities, and from the
amount of information it conveys respecting the aborigines, is
indispensable to the library of every Indianologist.
A very interesting natural history of the country is that written by
Bernard Romans.[78] This author, in his capacity of engineer in the
British service, lived a number of years in the territory, traversing it
in various directions, observing and noting with care both its natural
features and the manners and customs of the native tribes. On the latter
he is quite copious and is one of our standard authors. His style is
discursive and original though occasionally bombastic, and many of his
opinions are peculiar and bold. Extensive quotations from him are
inserted by the American translator in the Appendix to Volney’s View of
the United States. He wrote various other works, bearing principally on
the war of independence. A point of interest to the bookworm in his
History is that the personal pronoun I, is printed throughout as a small
letter.
A work on a contested land title, privately printed in London for the
parties interested about the middle of this period,[79] might possess
some little interest from the accompanying plan, but in other respects
is probably valueless. There is a manuscript work by John Gerard
Williams de Brahm, preserved in the library of Harvard College, which
“contains some particulars of interest relative to Florida at the period
of the English occupation.”[80] Extracts from it are given by Mr.
Fairbanks, descriptive of the condition of St. Augustine from 1763 to
1771, and of the English in the province. This De Brahm was a government
surveyor, and spent a number of years on the eastern coasts of the
United States while a British province.
Among the many schemes set in motion for peopling the colony, that of
Lord Rolls who proposed to transport to the banks of the St. Johns the
_cypriennes_ and degraded _femmes du pave_ of London,[81] and that of
Dr. Turnbull, are especially worthy of comment. The latter collected a
colony from various parts of the Levant,--from Greece, from Southern
Italy, and from the Minorcan Archipelago--and established his head
quarters at New Smyrna. The heartless cruelty with which he treated
these poor people, their birth-place and their fate, as well as the fact
that from them most of the present inhabitants of St. Augustine receive
their language, their character, and the general name of Minorcans, have
from time to time attracted attention to their history. Besides notices
in general works on Florida, Major Amos Stoddard in a work on
Louisiana[82] sketches the colony’s rise and progress, but he is an
inaccurate historian and impeachable authority. It is the only portion
of his chapter on the Floridas of any value. In 1827, an article upon
them was published in France by Mr. Mease,[83] which I have not
consulted, and a specimen of their dialect, the Mahonese, as it existed
in 1843, in the _Fromajardis_ or Easter Song, has been preserved by
Bryant, and is a curious relic.[84]
§ 5.--THE SECOND SPANISH SUPREMACY. 1780-1821.
During this period few books were published on Florida and none whatever
in the land of the regainers of the territory. The first traveller who
has left an account of his visit thither is Johann David Schöpf,[85] a
German physician who had come to America in 1777, attached to one of the
Hessian regiments in the British service. At the close of the war he
spent two years (1783-4) in travelling over the United States previous
to returning home, a few weeks of which, in March, 1784, he passed in
St. Augustine. He did not penetrate inland, and his observations are
confined to a description of the town, its harbor and inhabitants, and
some notices of the botany of the vicinity--for it was to natural
history and especially medical botany that Schöpf devoted most of his
attention during his travels. The difficulties of Spain with the United
States in regard to boundaries gave occasion for some publications in
the latter country. As early as 1797, the President addressed a message
to Congress “relative to the proceedings of the Commissioner for running
the Boundary Line between the United States and East and West Florida,”
which contains a resumé of what had been done up to that date.
Andrew Ellicott, Commissioner in behalf of the United States, was
employed five years in determining these and other boundaries between
the possessions of our government and those of His Catholic Majesty. He
published the results partially in the Transactions of the American
Philosophical Society, and more fully several years afterwards in a
separate volume.[86] They are merely the hasty notes of a surveyor,
thrown together in the form of a diary, without attempt at digestion or
connection; but he was an acute and careful observer, and his
_renseignements_ on the topography of East Florida are well worth
consulting. Among the notable passages is a vivid description of the
remarkable meteoric shower of November 12, 1799, which he encountered
off the south-western coast of Florida, and from which, conjoined with
the observations of Humboldt at Cumana, and others, the periodicity of
this phænomenon was determined by Palmer, of New Haven.
A geographical account of Florida is said to have appeared at
Philadelphia about this time, from the pen of John Mellish,[87] but
unless it forms merely a part of the general geography of that author, I
have been able to find nothing of the kind in the libraries of that
city.
The article on Florida in the important work on America of Antonio de
Alcedo,[88] derives some importance from the list of Spanish governors
it contains, which, however, is not very perfect; but otherwise is of
little service.
Serious difficulties between the Seminole Indians[89] and the whites of
Georgia, occurred at an early date in this period arising from attempts
of the latter to recapture fugitive slaves. These finally resulted in
the first Seminole war, and attracted the attention of the general
government. The action taken in respect to it may be found in the Ex.
Doc. No. 119, 2d Session, XVth Congress, which contains “the official
correspondence between the War Department and General Jackson; also that
between General Jackson and General Gaines, together with the orders of
each, as well as the correspondence between the Secretary of the Navy
and Commodore Patterson, and the orders of the latter officer to
Sailing-Master Loomis, and the final report of Sailing-Master Loomis and
General Clinch;”[90] also in two messages of the President during 1818,
on the Seminole war, one of which contains the documents relative to
Arbuthnot and Ambruster, the Cherokees, Chocktaws, &c., and in the
speeches of the Hon. Robert Poindexter, and others. Dr. Monette and Mr.
Giddings, in their historical works, have also examined this subject at
some length.
Two accounts of the fillibustering expeditions that resulted in the
forcible possession of Amelia Island by Captain MacGregor, have been
preserved; one, “the better of the two,” by an anonymous writer.[91]
They are both rare, and neither have come under my inspection.
An important addition to our knowledge of East Florida during this
period, is contained in the entertaining Letters of Dr. William
Baldwin.[92] This gentleman, a surgeon in the United States Navy, and a
devoted lover of botany, compelled to seek safety from a pulmonary
complaint by taking refuge in a warm climate during the winter months,
passed portions of several years, commencing with 1811, in East Florida
and on the confines of Georgia, occupying himself in studying the floral
wealth of those regions. He recorded his observations in a series of
letters to Dr. Muhlenberg of Lancaster, and to the subsequent editor of
his Remains, Dr. William Darlington, of West Chester, Pa., well known
from his works on the local and historical botany of our country, and
whom I have already had occasion to advert to as the editor of the elder
Bartram’s Correspondence. While those to the former have no interest but
to the professed botanist, his letters to the latter are not less rich
in information regarding the condition of the country and its
inhabitants, than they are entertaining from the agreeable epistolary
style in which they are composed, and the thanks of the historian as
well as the naturalist are due to their editor for rescuing them from
oblivion. It was the expectation of Dr. Baldwin to give these
observations a connected form and publish them under the subjoined
title,[93] but the duties of his position and his untimely death
prevented him from accomplishing this design. As far as completed,
comprising eight letters, twenty pages in all, this work is appended to
the Reliquiæ.
The cession of Florida to the United States, naturally excited
considerable attention, both in England and our own country, manifested
by the appearance of several pamphlets, the titles of two of the most
noteworthy of which are given below.[94]
Numerous manuscripts pertaining to the history of the colony are said to
have been carried away by the Catholic clergy at the time of the
cession, many of which were deposited in the convents of Havana, and
probably might still be recovered.
§ 6.--THE SUPREMACY OF THE UNITED STATES. 1821-1858.
No sooner had the United States obtained possession of this important
addition to her territory, than emigrants, both from the old countries
and from the more northern States, prepared to flock thither to test its
yet untried capabilities. Information concerning it was eagerly demanded
and readily supplied. In the very year of the cession appeared two
volumes, each having for its object the elucidation of its geography and
topography, its history, natural and civil.
One of these we owe to William Darby,[95] an engineer of Maryland, not
unknown in our literary annals as a general geographer. It is but a
compilation, hastily constructed from a mass of previously known facts,
to satisfy the ephemeral curiosity of a hungry public. As far as is
known of his life, the author never so much as set foot in the country
whose natural history he proposes to give, and he will err widely who
hopes to find in it that which the pretentious title-page bids him
expect.
A much superior work is that of James Grant Forbes.[96] This gentleman
was a resident of the territory, and had ample opportunities for
acquiring a pretty thorough knowledge of its later history, both from
personal experience and from unpublished documents. He is consequently
good authority for facts occurring during the British and later Spanish
administrations. Though at the time of publication the subject of
considerable praise, his work has since been denounced, though with
great injustice, as “a wretched compilation from old works.”[97]
The next year a little book appeared anonymously at Charleston.[98] The
writer, apparently a physician, had travelled through Alachua county,
and ascended the St. Johns as far as Volusia. It consists of a general
description of the country, a diary of the journey through Alachua, and
an account of the Seminole Indians with a vocabulary of their language.
Some of his observations are not without value.
The next work in chronological order was written by Charles Vignoles, a
“civil and topographical engineer,” and subsequently public translator
at St. Augustine. In the Introduction he remarks, “The following
observations on the Floridas have been collected during a residence in
the country; in which period several extensive journeys were made with a
view of obtaining materials for the construction of a new map, and for
the purpose now brought forward.” He notices the history, topography,
and agriculture, the climate and soil of the territory, gives a sketch
of the Keys, some account of the Indians, and is quite full on Land
Titles, then a very important topic, and adds to the whole a useful
Appendix of Documents relative to the Cession.[99] Vignoles is a dry and
uninteresting composer, with no skill in writing, and his observations
were rather intended as a commentary on his map than as an independent
work.
Energetic attempts were shortly made to induce immigration. Hopes were
entertained that a colony of industrious Swiss might be persuaded to
settle near Tallahassie, where it was supposed silk culture and vine
growing could be successfully prosecuted. When General Lafayette visited
this country he brought with him a series of inquiries, propounded by an
intelligent citizen of Berne, relative to the capabilities and prospects
of the land. They were handed over to Mr. McComb of that vicinity. His
answers[100] are tinged by a warm fancy, and would lead us to believe
that in middle Florida had at last been found the veritable Arcadia.
Though for their purpose well suited enough, for positive statistics it
would be preferable to seek in other quarters.
In 1826, there was an Institute of Agriculture, Antiquities, and Science
organized at Tallahassie. At the first (and, as far as I am aware, also
the last) public meeting of this comprehensive society, Colonel Gadsden
was appointed to deliver the opening address.[101] This was afterwards
printed and favorably noticed by some of the leading journals.
Apparently, however, it contained little at all interesting either to
the antiquarian or scientific man, but was principally taken up with
showing the prospect of a rapid agricultural developement throughout the
country.
Neither were general internal improvements slighted. A project was set
on foot to avoid the dangerous navigation round the Florida Keys by
direct transportation across the neck of the peninsula--a design that
has ever been the darling hobby of ambitious Floridians since they
became members of our confederacy, and which at length seems destined to
be fulfilled. Now railroads, in that day canals were to be the means. As
early as 1828, General Bernard, who had been dispatched for the purpose,
had completed two levellings for canal routes, had sketched an accurate
map on an extended scale, and had laid before the general government a
report embracing a topographical and hydrographical description of the
territory, the result of his surveys, with remarks on the inland
navigation of the coast from Tampa to the head of the delta of the
Mississippi, and the possible and actual improvements therein.[102]
Notwithstanding these magnificent preparations, it is unnecessary to
add, the canal is still unborn.
One great drawback to the progress of the territory was the uncertainty
of Land Titles. During the Spanish administration nearly the whole had
been parcelled out and conferred in grants by the king. Old claims,
dating back to the British regime, added to the confusion. Many of both
had been sold and resold to both Spanish and American citizens. In the
Appendix to Vignoles, and in Williams’ View of West Florida, many pages
are devoted to this weighty and very intricate subject. Some of these
claims were of enormous extent. Such was that of Mr. Hackley, which
embraced the whole Gulf coast of the peninsula and reached many miles
inland. This tract had been a grant of His Catholic Majesty to the Duke
of Alagon, and it was an express stipulation on the part of the United
States, acceded to by the king, that it should be annulled. But
meanwhile the Duke had sold out to Mr. Hackley and others, who claimed
that the king could not legally dispossess American citizens. A pamphlet
was published[103] containing all the documents relating to the
question, and the elaborate opinions of several leading lawyers, all but
one in favor of Mr. Hackley. After a protracted suit, the Gordian knot
was finally severed by an _ex post facto_ decree of His Majesty, that a
crown grant to a subject was in any case inalienable, least of all to a
foreigner.
The work of Col. John Lee Williams just mentioned,[104] though
ostensibly devoted to West Florida takes a wider sweep than the title
page denotes. Its author went to Florida in 1820, and was one of the
commissioners appointed to locate the seat of government. While busied
with this, he was struck with the marked deficiency of all the then
published maps of the country, “and for my own satisfaction,” he adds,
“I made a minute survey of the coast from St. Andrew’s Bay to the
Suwannee, as well as the interior of the country in which Tallahassie is
situated.” A letter from Judge Brackenridge, alcalde of St. Augustine,
principally consisting of quotations from Roberts, is all that touches
on antiquities. Except this, and some accounts of the early operations
of the Americans in obtaining possession, and the statements concerning
Land Titles, the book is taken up with discussions of proposed internal
improvements of very local and ephemeral interest.
All the details of any value that it contains he subsequently
incorporated in his Civil and Natural History of the Territory,[105]
published ten years later. Most of the intervening time he spent in
arduous personal researches; to quote his own words, “I have traversed
the country in various directions, and have coasted the whole peninsula
from Pensacola to St. Mary’s, examining with minute attention the
various Keys or Islets on the margin of the coast. I have ascended many
of the rivers, explored the lagoons and bays, traced the ancient
improvements, scattered ruins, and its natural productions by land and
by water.” Hence the chief value of the work is as a gazetteer. The
civil history is a mere compilation, collected without criticism, and
arranged without judgment; an entire ignorance of other languages, and
the paucity of materials in our own, incapacitated Williams from
achieving anything more. Nor can he claim to be much of a naturalist,
for the frequent typographical errors in the botanical names proclaim
him largely debtor to others in this department. His style is eminently
dry and difficult to labor through, and must ever confine the History to
the shelf as a work of reference, and to the closet of the painful
student. Yet with all its faults--and they are neither few nor
slight--this is the most complete work ever published concerning the
territory of Florida; it is the fruit of years of laborious
investigation, of absorbing devotion to one object, often of keen mental
and bodily suffering, and will ever remain a witness to the energy and
zeal of its writer.
As little is recorded about this author pioneer, I may perhaps be
excused for turning aside to recall a few personal recollections. It had
long been my desire to visit and converse with him about the early days
of the state, and with this object, on the 9th of November, 1856, I
stopped at the little town of Picolati, near which he lived. A sad
surprise awaited me; he had died on the 7th of the month and had been
buried the day before my arrival. I walked through the woods to his
house. It was a rotten, ruinous, frame tenement on the banks of the St.
Johns, about half a mile below the town, fronted by a row of noble live
oaks and surrounded by the forest. Here the old man--he was over eighty
at the time of his death--had lived for twenty years almost entirely
alone, and much of the time in abject poverty. A trader happened to be
with him during his last illness, who told me some incidents of his
history. His mind retained its vigor to the last, and within a week of
his death he was actively employed in various literary avocations, among
which was the preparation of an improved edition of his History, which
he had very nearly completed. At the very moment the paralytic stroke,
from which he died, seized him, he had the pen in his hand writing a
novel, the scene of which was laid in China! His disposition was
uncommonly aimable and engaging, and so much was he beloved by the
Indians, that throughout the horrible atrocities of the Seminole war,
when all the planters had fled or been butchered, when neither sex nor
age was a protection, when Picolati was burned and St. Augustine
threatened, he continued to live unharmed in his old house, though a
companion was shot dead on the threshold. What the savage respected and
loved, the civilized man thought weakness and despised; this very
goodness of heart made him the object of innumerable petty impositions
from the low whites, his neighbors. In the words of my informant, “he
was too good for the people of these parts.” During his lonely old age
he solaced himself with botany and horticulture, priding himself on
keeping the best garden in the vicinity. “Come, and I will show you his
grave,” said the trader, and added with a touch of feeling I hardly
expected, “he left no directions about it, so I made it in the spot he
used to love the best of all.” He took me to the south-eastern corner of
the neat garden plot. A heap of fresh earth with rough, round, pine
sticks at head and foot, marked the spot. It was a solemn and impressive
moment. The lengthening shadows of the forest crept over us, the wind
moaned in the pines and whistled drearily through the sere grass, and
the ripples of the river broke monotonously on the shore. All trace of
the grave will soon be obliterated, the very spot forgotten, and the
garden lie a waste, but the results of his long and toilsome life “in
books recorded” will live when the marbles and monumental brasses of
many of his cotemporaries shall be no more.
The next event that attracted general attention to Florida was the
bloody and disastrous second Seminole war, which for deeds of atrocious
barbarity, both on the part of the whites and red men, equals, if it
does not surpass, any conflict that has ever stained the soil of our
country.
The earliest work relative to it was published anonymously in 1836, by
an officer in the army.[106] He gives an impartial account of the causes
that gave rise to the war, the manifold insults and aggressions that
finally goaded the Indians to desperation, and the incidents of the
first campaign undertaken to punish them for their contumacy. It is well
and clearly written, and coming from the pen of a participant in many of
the scenes described, merits a place in the library of the historian.
The year subsequent, Mr. M. M. Cohen of Charleston, issued a notice of
the proceedings in the peninsula.[107] He was an “officer of the left
wing,” and had spent about five months with the army, during which time
it marched from St. Augustine to Volusia, thence to Tampa, and back
again to St. Augustine. The author tells us in his Preface, “our book
has been put to press in less than thirty days from its being
undertaken;” a statement no one will be inclined to doubt, as it is
little more than a farrago of vapid puns and stale witticisms, hurriedly
scraped together into a slim volume, and connected by a slender string
of facts. An account of the imprisonment of Oceola and the enslavement
of his wife, has been given by the same writer,[108] and has received
praise for its accuracy.
In 1836, when the war was at its height, an Indian boy was taken
prisoner by a party of American soldiers near Newnansville. Contrary to
custom his life was spared, and the next year he was handed over to the
care of an English gentleman then resident in the country. From his own
account, drawn from him after long persuasion, his name was Nikkanoche,
his father was the unhappy Econchatti-mico, and consequently he was
nephew to the famous chief Oceola, (Ass-se-he-ho-lar, Rising Sun,
Powell.) His guardian removed with him to England in 1840, and the year
after his arrival there, published an account of the parentage, early
days, and nation of his ward,[109] the young Prince of Econchatti, as he
was styled. It forms an interesting and pleasant little volume, though I
do not know what amount of reliance can be placed on the facts asserted.
An excellent article on the war, which merits careful reading from any
one desirous of thoroughly sifting the question, may be found in the
fifty-fourth volume of the North American Review, (1842,) prepared with
reference to Mr. Horace Everett’s remarks on the Army Appropriation Bill
of July 14, 1840, and to a letter from the Secretary of War on the
expenditure for supporting hostilities in Florida.
Though the above memoirs are of use in throwing additional light on some
points, and settling certain mooted questions, the standard work of
reference on the Florida war is the very able, accurate, and generally
impartial History,[110] of Captain John T. Sprague, himself a
participant in many of its scenes, and officially concerned in its
prosecution. Few of our local histories rank higher than this. With a
praiseworthy patience of research he goes at length into its causes,
commencing with the cession in 1821, details minutely its prosecution
till the close in December, 1845, and paints with a vigorous and
skillful pen many of those thrilling adventures and affecting passages
that marked its progress. A map of the seat of war that accompanies it,
drawn up with care, and embracing most of the geographical discoveries
made by the various divisions of the army, adds to its value.
Commencing his history with the cession, Captain Sprague does not touch
on the earlier troubles with the Seminoles. These were never properly
handled previous to the late work of the Hon. J. B. Giddings, entitled,
“The Exiles of Florida.”[111] These so-called exiles were runaway slaves
from the colonies of South Carolina and Georgia, who, quite early in the
last century, sought an asylum in the Spanish possessions, formed
separate settlements, and, increased by fresh refugees, became ever
after a fruitful source of broils and quarrels between the settlers of
the rival provinces. As they were often protected, and by marriage and
situation became closely connected with the Lower Creeks, they were
generally identified with them in action under the common name of
Seminoles. Thus the history of one includes that of the other. The
profound acquaintance with the transactions of our government acquired
by Mr. Giddings during a long and honorable public service, render his
work an able plea in the cause of the people whose wrongs and sufferings
have enlisted his sympathy; but unquestionably the fervor of his views
prevents him from doing full justice to their adversaries. He attaches
less weight than is right to the strict _legality_ of most of the claims
for slaves; and forgets to narrate the inhuman cruelties, shocking even
to the red men, wreaked by these maroons on their innocent captives,
which palliate, if they do not excuse, the rancorous hatred with which
they were pursued by the whites. Including their history from their
origin till 1853, the second Seminole war occupies much of his
attention, and the treatment both of it and the other topics, prove the
writer a capable historian, as well as an accomplished statesman.
It is unnecessary to specify the numerous reports of the officers, the
official correspondence, the speeches of members of Congress, and other
public writings that illustrate the history of the war, which are
contained in the Executive Documents. But I should not omit to mention
that the troubles in Florida during the last few years have given
occasion to the publication of the only at all accurate description of
the southern extremity of the peninsula in existence.[112] It was issued
for the use of the army, from inedited reports of officers during the
second Seminole war, and lays down and describes topographically nine
routes to and from the principal military posts south of Tampa Bay.
The works relating to St. Augustine next claim our attention. Of late
years this has become quite a favorite rendezvous for casual tourists,
invalids from the north, magazine writers, _et id omne genus_, whence to
indite letters redolent of tropic skies, broken ruins, balmy moonlight,
and lustrous-eyed beauties. Though it would be lost time to enumerate
these, yet among books of general travel, there are one or two of
interest in this connection. Among these is an unpretending little
volume that appeared anonymously at New York in 1839.[113] The author, a
victim of asthma, had visited both St. Augustine and Key West in the
spring of that year. Though written in a somewhat querulous tone, it
contains some serviceable hints to invalids expecting to spend a winter
in warmer climes.
Neither ought we to pass by in silence the Floridian notes of the “Hon.
Miss Amelia M. Murray,”[114] who, it will be recollected, a few years
since took a contemptuous glance at our country from Maine to Louisiana,
weighed it in the balance of her judgment, and pronounced it wanting in
most of the elements of civilization. She went on a week’s scout into
Florida, found the charges exorbitant, the government wretchedly
conducted, and the people boors; was deeply disappointed with St.
Augustine and harbor because an island shut out the view of the ocean,
and at Silver Spring found nothing more worthy of her pen than the
anti-slavery remark of an inn-keeper,--who has himself assured me that
she entirely misconstrues even that.
Two works devoted to the Ancient City, as its inhabitants delight to
style it, have been published. One of these is a pleasant little
hand-book, issued some ten years since by the Rev. Mr. Sewall,
Episcopalian minister there.[115] He prepared it “to meet the wants of
those who may desire to learn something of the place in view of a
sojourn, or who may have already come hither in search of health,” and
it is well calculated for this purpose. A view of the town from the
harbor, (sold also separately,) and sketches of the most remarkable
buildings increase its usefulness. A curious incident connected with
this book is worth relating for the light it throws on the character of
the so-called Minorcans of St. Augustine. In one part Mr. Sewall had
inserted a passage somewhat depreciatory of this class. When the edition
arrived and this became generally known, they formed a mob, surrounded
the store where it was deposited, and could only be restrained from
destroying the whole by a promise that the obnoxious leaf should be cut
from every volume in the package. This was done, and the copy I
purchased there accordingly lacks the thirty-eighth and thirty-ninth
pages. An action on their part that calls to mind the ancient saw,
“’Tis the tight shoe that pinches.”
Another and later work that enters into the subject more at length, has
recently appeared from the competent pen of G. R. Fairbanks,[116] a
resident of the spot, and a close student of the chronicles of the old
colony. The rise and progress of the settlements both French and Spanish
are given in detail and with general accuracy, and though his account of
the former is not so finished nor so thoroughly digested as that of
Sparks, consisting of little more than extracts linked together, we have
no other work in our language so full on the doings of the subjects of
His Catholic Majesty in Florida, and the gradual growth of the Ancient
City. It thus fills up a long standing hiatus in our popular historical
literature.
Numerous articles on Florida have appeared in various American
periodicals, but so few of any value that as a class they do not merit
attention. Most of them are flighty descriptions of scenery, second-hand
morsels of history, and empty political disquisitions. Some of the best
I have referred to in connection with the points they illustrate, while
the Index of Mr. Poole, a work invaluable to American scholars, obviates
the necessity of a more extended reference.
Those that have appeared in the serials of Europe, on the other hand, as
they mostly contain original matter, so they must not be passed over so
lightly.
Though not strictly included among them, the article on Florida prepared
by Mr. Warden for that portion of _L’Art de Verifier les Dates_ called
Historical Chronology of America, will come under our notice here. In a
compendium parading such a pretentious title as this we have a right to
expect at least an average accuracy, but this portion bears on its face
obvious marks of haste, negligence, and a culpable lack of criticism,
and is redeemed by nothing but a few excerpts from rare books.
Little attention has ever been paid to the natural history of the
country, least of all by Americans. The best observer of late years has
been M. de Castelnau, who, sent out by the Academie des Sciences to
collect and observe in this department, spent in Middle Florida one of
the seven years he passed in America. While the Seminole war was raging,
and a mutual slaughter giving over the peninsula once more to its
pristine wilderness, in the gloomy hammocks of the Suwannee and
throughout the lofty forests that stretch between this river and the
Apalachicola, this naturalist was pursuing his peaceful avocation
undisturbed by the discord around him. In April, 1842, after his return,
he submitted to the Academy a memoir on this portion of his
investigations.[117] It is divided into three sections, the first a
geographical description, the second treating of the climate, hygienic
condition, geology, and agriculture, while the third is devoted to
anthropology, as exhibited here in its three phases, the red, the white,
and the black man. In one passage,[118] speaking of the history of the
country, this author remarks that M. Lakanal “has, during his long
sojourn at Mobile, just on the confines of Florida, collected numerous
documents relative to the latter country; but the important labors of
our venerable colleague have not yet been published.” As far as I can
learn, these doubtless valuable additions to our history are still
inedited.
The subjoined list of some other articles published in Europe is
extracted from Dr. W. Koner’s excellent catalogue.[119]
1832. De Mobile, Excursion dans l’Alabama et les Florides. Revue des
Deux Mondes, T. I., p. 128.
1835. Beitrage zur Näheren Kenntniss von Florida. Anal. der Erdkunde, B.
XII., s. 336.
1836. Castelnau, Note sur la Source de la Riviére de Walkulla dans la
Floride. Soc. de Geographie, II. ser., T. XI., p. 242.
1839. David, Aperçu Statistique sur la Floride Soc. de Geog., II., ser.,
Tom. XIV., p. 144.
1842. Castelnau, Note de deux Itineraires de Charleston à Tallahassie.
Soc. de Geog. T. XVIII., p. 241.
1843. Castelnau, Essai sur la Floride du Milieu. Annales de Voyages, T.
IV., p. 129.
1843. De Quatrefages, La Floride. Revue des Deux Mondes, nouv. ser., T.
I., p. 774.
§ 7.--MAPS AND CHARTS.
Though the need of a good history of the most important maps and charts
of America, enriched by copies of the most interesting, cannot but have
been felt by every one who has spent much time in the study of its first
settlement and growth, such a work still remains a desideratum in our
literature. As a trifling aid to any who may hereafter engage in an
undertaking of this kind, and as an assistance to the future historian
of that portion of our country, I add a brief notice of those that best
illustrate the progress of geographical knowledge respecting Florida.
On the earliest extant sketch of the New World--, that made by Juan de
Cosa in 1500--, a continuous coast line running east and northeast
connects the southern continent to the shores of the _Mar descubierta
por Ingleses_ in the extreme north. No signs of a peninsula are visible.
Eight years later, on the _Universalior cogniti Orbis Tabula_, of
Johannes Ruysch found in the geography of Ptolemy printed at Rome under
the supervision of Marcus Beneventanus and Johannes Gotta, the whole of
North America is included in a small body of land marked Terra Nova or
Baccalauras,[120] joined to the countries of Gog and Magog and the
_desertum Lob_ in Asia. A cape stretching out towards Cuba is called
Cabo de Portugesi.[121]
This brings us to the enigmatical map in the magnificent folio edition
of Ptolemy, printed at Venice in 1513. On this, North America is an
oblong parallelogram of land with an irregularly shaped portion
projecting from its south-eastern extremity, maintaining with general
correctness the outlines and direction of the peninsula of Florida. A
number of capes and rivers are marked along its shores, some of the
names evidently Portugese, others Spanish. Now as Leon first saw
Florida in 1512, and the report of his discovery did not reach Europe
for years, whence came this knowledge of the northern continent?
Santarem and Ghillany both confess that there were voyages to the New
World undertaken by Portuguese in the first decade of the century, about
which all else but the mere fact of their existence have escaped the
most laborious investigations; hence, probably to one of these unknown
navigators we are to ascribe the honor of being the first discoverer of
Florida, and the source of the information displayed by the editors of
this copy of Ptolemy.[122]
The first outline of the coast drawn from known observation is the
_Traza de las Costas de Tierra Firme y de las Tierras Nuevas_,
accompanying the royal grant of those parts to Francisco de Garay in the
year 1521. It has been published by Navarrete, and by Buckingham Smith.
Contrary to the usual opinion of the day, which was not proved incorrect
till the voyages of Francesco Fernandez de Cordova (1517), and more
conclusively by that of Estevan Gomez (1525), the peninsula is attached
to the mainland. This and other reasons render it probable that it was
drawn up under the supervision of Anton de Alaminos, pilot of Leon on
his first voyage, who ever denied the existence of an intervening
strait.[123] I cannot agree with Mr. Smith that it points to any prior
discoveries unknown to us.
On some early maps, as one in the quarto geography of Ptolemy of 1525,
the region of Florida is marked Parias. This name, originally given by
Columbus to an island of the West Indian archipelago, and so laid down
on the “figura ò pintura de la tierra,” which he forwarded to Ferdinand
the Catholic in 1499,[124] was quite wildly applied by subsequent
geographers to Peru, to the region on the shore of the Caribbean Sea, to
the whole of South America, to the southern extremity of North America
where Nicaragua now is, and finally to the peninsula of Florida.
We have seen that early maps prove De Leon was not, as is commonly
supposed, the first to see and name the Land of Flowers (Terra Florida);
neither did his discoveries first expand a knowledge of it in Europe.
Probably all that was known by professed geographers regarding it for a
long time after was the product of later explorations, for not till
forty years from the date of his first voyage was there a chart
published containing the name he applied to the peninsula. This is the
one called _Novae Insulae_, in the Geographia Claudii Ptolemaei,
Basileae, 1552.[125]
The only other delineation of the country dating from the sixteenth
century that deserves notice--for those of Herrera are quite
worthless--is that by Jacques Le Moyne de Morgues, published in the
second volume of De Bry, which is curious as the only one left by the
French colonists, though geographically not more correct than others of
the day. Indeed, all of them portray the country very imperfectly.
Generally it is represented as a triangular piece of land more or less
irregular, indented by bays, divided into provinces Cautio, Calos,
Tegeste, and others, names which are often applied to the whole
peninsula. The southern extremity is sometimes divided into numerous
islands by arms of the sea, and the St. Johns, when down at all, rises
from mountains to the north, and runs in a southeasterly direction,
nearly parallel with the rivers supposed to have been discovered by
Ribaut, (La Somme, La Loire, &c.)
Now this did not at all keep pace with the geographical knowledge common
to both French and Spanish towards the close of this period. The
colonists under Laudonniére and afterwards Aviles himself, ascended the
St. Johns certainly as far as Lake George, and knew of a great interior
lake to the south; Pedro Menendez Marquez, the nephew and successor of
the latter, made a methodical survey of the coast from Pensacola to near
the Savannah river (from Santa Maria de Galve to Santa Helena;) and
English navigators were acquainted with its general outline and the
principal points along the shore.
Yet during the whole of the next century I am not aware of a single map
that displays any signs of improvement, or any marks of increased
information. That inserted by De Laet in his description of the New
World, called _Florida et Regiones Vicinæ_, (1633,) is noteworthy only
because it is one of the first, if not the first, to locate along his
supposed route the native towns and provinces met with by De Soto. Their
average excellence may be judged from those inserted in the elephantine
work of Ogilby on America, (1671,) and still better in its Dutch and
German paraphrases. The _Totius Americæ Descriptio_, by Gerhard a
Schagen in the latter, is a meritorious production for that age.
No sooner, however, had the English obtained a firm footing in Carolina
and Georgia, and the French in Louisiana, than a more accurate knowledge
of their Spanish neighbors was demanded and acquired. The “New Map of
ye North Parts of America claimed by France under ye name of
Louisiana, Mississippi, Canada, and New France, with ye adjoining
Territories of England and Spain,” (London, 1720,) indicates
considerable progress, and is memorable as the first on which the St.
Johns is given its true course, information about which its designer
Herman Moll, obtained from the “Journals and Original Draughts” of
Captain Nairn. His map of the West Indies contains a “Draught of St.
Augustine and its Harbour,” with the localities of the castle, town,
monastery, Indian church, &c., carefully pointed out; previous to it,
two plans of this city had appeared, one, the earliest extant, engraved
to accompany the narrative of Drake’s Voyage and Descent in 1586, and
another, I know not by whose hand, representing its appearance in
1665.[126]
On the former of these maps, “The South Bounds of Carolina,” are placed
nearly a degree south of St. Augustine, thus usurping all the best
portion of the Spanish territory. This is but an example of the great
confusion that prevailed for a long time as to the extent of the region
called Florida. The early writers frequently embraced under this name
the whole of North America above Mexico, distinguishing, as Herrera and
Torquemada, between Florida explored and unexplored, (Florida conocida,
Florida ignorada,) or as Christian Le Clerq, between Spanish and French
and English Florida. Taking it in this extended sense, Barcia includes
in his Chronology (Ensayo Cronologico de la Florida) not only the
operations of the Spanish and English on the east coast of the United
States, but also those of the French in Canada and the expeditions of
Vasquez Coronado and others in New Mexico. Nicolas le Fer, on the other
hand, ignoring the name altogether, styled the whole region Louisiana,
(1718,) while the English, not to be outdone in national rapacity, laid
claim to an equal amount as Carolina. De Laet[127] was the first
geographer who confined the name to the peninsula. In 1651 Spain
relinquished her claims to all land north of 36° 30´ north lat., but it
was not till the Definitive Treaty of Peace of 1763, that any political
attempt was made to define its exact boundaries, and then, not with such
entire success, but room was left for subsequent disputes between our
government and Spain, only finally settled by the surveys of Ellicott at
the close of the century.
Neither Guillaume de l’Isle nor M. Bellin, both of whom etched maps of
Florida many years after the publication of that of Moll, seems to have
been aware of his previous labors, or to have taken advantage of his
more extensive information. In the gigantic _Atlas Nouveau_ of the
former, (Amsterdam, 1739,) are two maps of Florida, evidently by
different hands. The one, _Tabula Geographica Mexico et Floridæ_, gives
tolerably well the general contour of the peninsula, and situates the
six provinces of Apalacha mentioned by Bristock; the other, _Carte de la
Louisiane et du Cours du Mississippi_, is an enlarged copy with
additions of that published five years previous in the fifth volume of
the _Voyages au Nord_, on which is given the route of De Soto. Bellin’s
_Carte des Costes de la Nouvelle France suivant les premiéres
Decouvertes_ is found in Charlevoix’s _Nouvelle France_ and is of little
worth.
The map of “Carolina, Florida, and the Bahama Islands,” that accompanies
Catesby’s Natural History of those regions, is not so accurate as we
might expect from the opportunities he enjoyed. The peninsula is
conceived as a nearly equilateral triangle projecting about two hundred
and sixty miles towards the south. Like other maps of this period, it
derives its chief value from locating Indian and Spanish towns.
The dangerous navigation of the Keys had necessitated their examination
at an early date. In 1718, Domingo Gonzales Carranza surveyed them, as
well as some portion of the northern coast, with considerable care. His
notes remained in manuscript, however, till 1740, when falling into the
hands of an Englishman, they were translated and brought out at London
under the title, “A Geographical Description of the Spanish West
Indies.” But how inefficient the knowledge of these perilous reefs
remained for many years is evident on examining the marine chart of the
Gulf of Mexico, by Tomas Lopez and Juan de la Cruz, in 1755. The
seafaring English, when they took possession of the country, made it
their first duty to get the most exact possible charts of these so
important points. No sooner had the treaty been signed than the Board of
Admiralty dispatched G. Gauld, a capable and energetic engineer to
survey the coasts, islands, and keys, east and south of Pensacola. In
this employment he spent nearly twenty years, from 1764 to 1781, when he
was taken prisoner by the Spanish, and shortly afterwards died. The
results were not made public till 1790, when they appeared under the
supervision of Dr. Lorimer, and, in connection with the Gulf Pilot of
Bernard Romans, and the sailing directions of De Brahm, both likewise
engineers in the British service, employed at the same time as Gauld,
constituted for half a century the chief foundation for the nautical
charts of this entrance to the Gulf.
Among the writers of the last century who did good service to American
geography, Thomas Jefferys, Geographer to his Majesty, deserves
honorable mention. Besides his more general labors, he edited, in 1763,
the compilation of Roberts, and some years after the Journal of the
elder Bartram; to both he added a general map of the region under
consideration, “collected and digested with great care and labor from a
number of French and Spanish charts,” taken on prize ships, correct
enough as far as regards the shore, but the interior very defective; a
plan of Tampa Bay; and one of St. Augustine and harbor, giving the depth
of water in each, and on the latter showing the site of the sea wall.
Besides those in the Atlas of Popple, of 1772, the following maps,
published during the last century, may be consulted with advantage:
Carolinæ, Floridæ nec-non Insularum Bajamensium delineatio, Nuremberg,
1775.
Tabulæ Mexicanæ et Floridæ, terrarum Anglicarum, anteriarum Americæ
insularum. Amstelodami, apud Petrum Schenck, circ. 1775.
A Map of the Southern British Colonies, containing the Seat of War in
N. and S. Carolina, E. and W. Florida. By Bernard Romans. London, 1776.
Plan of Amelia Island and Bar, surveyed by Jacob Blaney in 1775. London,
1776.
Plan of Amelia Island and Bar. By Wm. Fuller. Edited by Thomas Jefferys.
London, 1776.
Plano de la Ciudad y Puerto de San Augustin de la Florida. Por Tomas
Lopez. Madrid, 1783.
Nothing was done of any importance in this department during the second
Spanish supremacy, but as soon as the country became a portion of the
United States, the energy both of private individuals and the government
rapidly increased the fund of geographical knowledge respecting it.
The first map published was that of Vignoles, who, an engineer himself,
and deriving his facts from a personal survey of the whole eastern coast
from St. Marys river to Cape Florida, makes a very visible improvement
on his predecessors.
The canal contemplated at this period from the St. Johns or St. Marys to
the Gulf gave occasion to levellings across the peninsula at two points,
valuable for the hypsometrical data they furnish. Annexed to the report
(February, 1829,) is a “Map of the Territory of Florida from its
northern boundary to lat. 27° 30´ N. connected with the delta of the
Mississippi,” giving the features of the country and separate plans of
the harbors and bays.
The same year J. R. Searcy issued a map of the territory, “constructed
principally from authentic documents in the land office at Tallahassie,”
favorably mentioned at the time.[128]
The map prefixed to his View of West Florida, and subsequently to his
later work, by Colonel Williams, largely based on his own researches, is
a good exposition of all certainly known at that period about the
geography of the country. Cape Romans is here first distinguished as an
island; Sharks river is omitted; and Lake Myaco or Okee-chobee is not
down, “simply,” says the author, “because I can find no reason for
believing its existence!” Unparalleled as such an entire ignorance of a
body of water with a superficies of twelve hundred square miles, in the
midst of a State settled nigh half a century before any other in our
Union, which had been governed for years by English, by Spanish, and by
Americans, may be, it well illustrates the impassable character of those
vast swamps and dense cypresses known as the Everglades; an
impenetrability so complete as almost to justify the assertion of the
State engineer, made as late as 1855: “These lands are now, and will
continue to be, nearly as much unknown as the interior of Africa or the
mountain sources of the Amazon.”[129]
What little we know of this Terra Incognita, is derived from the notes
of officers in the Indian wars, and the maps drawn up for the use of the
army. Among these, that issued by the War Department at the request of
General Taylor, in 1837, embracing the whole peninsula, that prefixed to
Sprague’s History, which gives the northern portion with much
minuteness, and the later one, in 1856, of the portion south of Tampa
Bay, are the most important. The latter gives the topography of the
Everglades and Big Cypress as far as ascertained.
While annual explorations are thus throwing more and more light on the
interior of the peninsula, the United States Coast Survey, now in
operation, will definitely settle all kindred questions relative to its
shores, harbors, and islands; and thus we may look forward to a not
distant day when its geographical history will be consummated.
CHAPTER II.
THE APALACHES.
Derivation of the name.--Earliest notices of.--Visited and
described by Bristock in 1653.--Authenticity of his
narrative.--Subsequent history and final extinction.
Among the aboriginal tribes of the United States perhaps none is more
enigmatical than the Apalaches. They are mentioned as an important
nation by many of the early French and Spanish travellers and
historians, their name is preserved by a bay and river on the shores of
the Gulf of Mexico, and by the great eastern coast range of mountains,
and has been applied by ethnologists to a family of cognate nations that
found their hunting-grounds from the Mississippi to the Atlantic and
from the Ohio river to the Florida Keys; yet, strange to say, their own
race and place have been but guessed at. Intimately connected both by
situation and tradition with the tribes of the Floridian peninsula, an
examination of the facts pertaining to their history and civilization is
requisite to a correct knowledge of the origin and condition of the
latter.
The orthography of the name is given variously by the older writers,
Apahlahche, Abolachi, Apeolatei, Appallatta, &c., and very frequently
without the first letter, Palaxy, Palatcy. Daniel Coxe, indeed,
fancifully considered this first vowel the Arabic article _a_, _al_,
prefixed by the Spaniards to the native word.[130] Its derivation has
been a _questio vexata_ among Indianologists; Heckewelder[131]
identified it with Lenape or Wapanaki, “which name the French in the
south as easily corrupted into _Apalaches_ as in the north to
_Abenakis_,” and other writers have broached equally loose hypothesis.
Adair[132] mentions a Chikasah town, Palacheho, evidently from the same
root; but it is not from this tongue nor any of its allies, that we must
explain its meaning, but rather consider it an indication of ancient
connections with the southern continent, and in itself a pure Carib
word. _Apáliché_ in the Tamanaca dialect of the Guaranay stem on the
Orinoco signifies _man_,[133] and the earliest application of the name
in the northern continent was as a title of the chief of a country,
_l’homme par excellence_,[134] and hence, like very many other Indian
tribes (Apaches, Lenni Lenape, Illinois,) his subjects assumed by
eminence the proud appellation of The Men. How this foreign word came to
be imported will be considered hereafter. Among the tribes that made up
the confederacy, probably only one partook of the warring and energetic
blood of the Caribs; or it may have been assumed in emulation of a
famous neighbor; or it may have been a title of honor derived from the
esoteric language of a foreign priesthood, instances of which are not
rare among the aborigines.
In the writings of the first discoverers they uniformly hold a superior
position as the most polished, the most valorous, and the most united
tribe in the region where they dwelt. The fame of their intrepidity
reached to distant nations. “Keep on, robbers and traitors,” cried the
Indians near the Withlacooche to the soldiers of De Soto, “in Apalache
you will receive that chastisement your cruelty deserves.” When they
arrived at this redoubted province they found cultivated fields
stretching on either hand, bearing plentiful crops of corn, beans,
pumpkins, cucumbers, and plums,[135] whose possessors, a race large in
stature, of great prowess, and delighting in war, inhabited numerous
villages containing from fifty to three hundred, spacious and commodious
dwellings, well protected against hostile incursions. The French
colonists heard of them as distinguished for power and wealth, having
good store of gold, silver, and pearls, and dwelling near lofty
mountains to the north; and Fontanedo, two years a prisoner in their
power, lauds them as “_les meilleurs Indiens de la Floride_,” and
describes their province as stretching far northward to the snow-covered
mountains of Onagatano abounding in precious metals.[136]
About a century subsequent to these writers, we find a very minute and
extraordinary account of a nation called Apalachites, indebted for its
preservation principally to the work of the Abbé Rochefort. It has been
usually supposed a creation of his own fertile brain, but a careful
study of the subject has given me a different opinion. The original
sources of his information may be entirely lost, but that they actually
existed can be proved beyond reasonable doubt. They were a series of
ephemeral publications by an “English gentleman” about 1656, whose name
is variously spelled Bristol, Bristok, Brigstock, and Bristock, the
latter being probably the correct orthography. He had spent many years
in the West Indies and North America, was conversant with several native
tongues, and had visited Apalacha in 1653. Besides the above-mentioned
fragmentary notes, he promised a complete narrative of his residence and
journeys in the New World, but apparently never fulfilled his intention.
Versions of his account are found in various writers of the age. The
earliest is given by Rochefort[137], and was translated with the rest of
the work of that author by Davies[138], who must have consulted the
original tract of Bristock as he adds particulars not found in the
Abbé’s history. Others are met with in the writings of the Geographus
Ordinarius, Nicolas Sanson d’ Abbeville[139], in the huge tomes of
Ogilby[140] and his high and low Dutch paraphrasers Arnoldus
Montanus[141] and Oliver Dapper,[142] in Oldmixon’s history,[143] quite
fully in the later compilation that goes under the name of Baumgarten’s
History of America,[144] and in our own days has been adverted to by the
distinguished Indianologist H. R. Schoolcraft in more than one of his
works. It consists of two parts, the one treating of the traditions, the
other of the manners and customs of the Apalachites. In order to place
the subject in the clearest light I shall insert a brief epitome of
both.
The Apalachites inhabited the region called Apalacha between 33° 25´ and
37° north latitude. By tradition and language they originated from
northern Mexico, where similar dialects still existed.[145] The
Cofachites were a more southern nation, scattered at first over the vast
plains and morasses to the south along the Gulf of Mexico (Theomi), but
subsequently having been reduced by the former nation, they settled a
district called Amana, near the mountains of Apalacha, and from this
circumstance received the name Caraibe or Carib, meaning “bold, warlike
men,” “strangers,” and “annexed nation.” In after days, increasing in
strength and retaining their separate existence, they asserted
independence, refused homage to the king of Apalacha, and slighted the
worship of the sun. Wars consequently arose, extending at intervals over
several centuries, resulting in favor of the Cofachites, whose dominion
ultimately extended from the mountains in the north to the shores of the
Gulf and the river St. Johns on the south. Finding themselves too weak
to cope openly with such a powerful foe, the Apalachites had recourse to
stratagem. Taking advantage of a temporary peace, their priests used the
utmost exertions to spread abroad among their antagonists a religious
veneration of the sun and a belief in the necessity of an annual
pilgrimage to his sacred mountain Olaimi in Apalacha. So well did their
plan succeed, that when at the resumption of hostilities, the
Apalachites forbade the ingress of all pilgrims but those who would do
homage to their king, a schism, bitter and irreconcileable, was brought
about among the Cofachites. Finally peace was restored by a migration of
those to whom liberty was dearer than religion, and a submission of the
rest to the Apalachites, with whom they became amalgamated and lost
their identity. Their more valiant companions, after long wanderings
through unknown lands in search of a home, finally locate themselves on
the southern shore of Florida. Islanders from the Bahamas, driven
thither by storms, tell them of lands, fertile and abounding in game,
yet uninhabited and unclaimed, lying to the southwards; they follow
their advice and direction, traverse the Gulf of Florida, and settle the
island of _Ayay_, now Santa Cruz. From this centre colonies radiated,
till the majority of the islands and no small portion of the southern
mainland was peopled by their race.
Such is the sum of Bristock’s singular account. It is either of no
credibility whatever, or it is a distorted version of floating, dim
traditions, prevalent among the indigenes of the West Indies and the
neighboring parts of North America. I am inclined to the latter opinion,
and think that Bristock, hearing among the Caribs rumors of a continent
to the north, and subsequently finding powerful nations there, who, in
turn, knew of land to the south and spoke of ancient wars and
migrations, wove the fragments together, filled up the blanks, and gave
it to the world as a veritable history. To support this view, let us
inquire whether any knowledge of each other actually existed between the
inhabitants of the islands and the northern mainland, and how far this
knowledge extended.
The reality of the migration, though supported by some facts, must be
denied of the two principal races, the Caribs and Arowauks, who peopled
the islands at the time of their discovery. The assertions of Barcia,
Herrera, and others that they were originally settled by Indians from
Florida have been abundantly disproved by the profound investigations of
Alphonse D’Orbigny in South America.[146] On the other hand, that the
Cubans and Lucayans had a knowledge of the peninsula not only in the
form of myths but as a real geographical fact, even having specific
names in their own tongues for it (Cautio, Jaguaza), is declared by the
unanimous voice of historians.
The most remarkable of these myths was that of the fountain of life,
placed by some in the Lucayos, but generally in a fair and genial land
to the north.[147] From the tropical forests of Central America to the
coral-bound Antilles the natives told the Spaniards marvellous tales of
a fountain whose magic waters would heal the sick, rejuvenate the aged,
and confer an ever-youthful immortality. It may have originated in a
confused tradition of a partial derivation from the mainland and
subsequent additions thence received from time to time, or more probably
from the adoration of some of the very remarkable springs abundant on
the peninsula, perchance that wonderful object the Silver Spring,[148]
round which I found signs of a dense early population, its virtues
magnified by time, distance, and the arts of priests. We know how
intimately connected is the worship of the sun with the veneration of
water; heat typifying the masculine, moisture the feminine principle.
The universality of their association in the Old World cosmogonies and
mythologies is too well-known to need specification, and it is quite as
invariable in those of the New Continent. That such magnificent springs
as occur in Florida should have become objects of special veneration,
and their fame bruited far and wide, and handed down from father to son,
is a most natural consequence in such faiths.[149]
Certain it is that long before these romantic tales had given rise to
the expeditions of De Leon, Narvaez, and De Soto, many natives of the
Lucayos, of Cuba, even of Yucatan and Honduras,[150] had set out in
search of this mystic fount. Many were lost, while some lived to arrive
on the Floridian coast, where finding it impossible either to proceed or
return, they formed small villages, “whose race,” adds Barcia,[151]
writing in 1722, “is still in existence” (cuia generacion aun dura).
This statement, which the cautious investigator Navarrete confirms,[152]
seems less improbable when we reflect that in after times it was no
uncommon incident for the natives of Cuba to cross the Gulf of Florida
in their open boats to escape the slavery of the Spaniards,[153] that
the Lucayans had frequent communication with the mainland,[154] that the
tribes of South Florida, as early as 1695, carried on a considerable
trade with Havana,[155] that the later Indians on the Suwannee would on
their trading excursions not only descend this river in their large
cypress canoes, but proceed “quite to the point of Florida, and
sometimes cross the Gulph, extending their navigations to the Bahama
islands and even to Cuba,”[156] and finally that nothing was more common
to such a seafaring nation as the Caribs than a voyage of this
length.[157]
Another remarkable myth, which certainly points for its explanation to
an early and familiar intercourse between the islands and the mainland,
is the singular geognostic tradition prevalent among the Lucayans,
preserved by Peter of Anghiera, to the effect that this archipelago was
originally united to the continent by firm land.[158] Doubtless it was
on such grounds that the Spaniards concluded that they owed their
original settlement to migrations from the Floridian peninsula.
Turning our attention now to this latter land, we should have cause to
be surprised did we not find signs that such adventurous navigators as
the Caribs had planned and executed incursions and settlements there.
That these signs are so sparse and unsatisfactory, we owe not so much to
their own rarity as to the slight weight attached to such things by the
early explorers and discoverers. From the accounts we do possess,
however, there can be no doubt but that vestiges of the Caribbean
tongue, if not whole tribes identical with them in language and customs,
have been met with from time to time on the peninsula.[159] The striking
similarity in the customs of flattening the forehead, in poisoning
weapons, in the use of hollow reeds to propel arrows, in the sculpturing
on war clubs, construction of dwellings, exsiccation of corpses,[160]
burning the houses of the dead, and other rites, though far from
conclusive are yet not without a decided weight. It is much to be
regretted that Adair has left us no fuller information of those seven
tribes on the Koosah river, who spoke a different tongue from the
Muskohge and preserved “a fixed oral tradition that they formerly came
from South America, and after sundry struggles in defence of liberty
settled their present abode.”[161]
Thus it clearly appears that the frame, so to speak, of the traditions
preserved by Bristock actually did exist and may be proved from other
writers. But we are still more strongly convinced that his account is at
least founded on fact, when we compare the manners and customs, of the
Apalachites, as he gives them, with those of the Cherokee, Choktah,
Chickasah, and Muskohge, tribes plainly included by him under this name,
and proved by the philological researches of Gallatin to have occupied
the same location since De Soto’s expedition.[162] We need have no
suspicion that he plagiarized from other authors, as the particulars he
mentions are not found in earlier writers; and it was not till 1661 that
the English settled Carolina, not till 1699 that Iberville built his
little fort on the Bay of Biloxi, and many years elapsed between this
latter and the general treaty of Oglethorpe. If then we find a close
similarity in manners, customs, and religions, we must perforce concede
his accounts, such as they have reached us, a certain degree of credit.
He begins by stating that Apalacha was divided into six provinces;
Dumont,[163] writing from independent observation about three-fourths of
a century afterwards, makes the same statement. Their towns were
inclosed with stakes or live hedges, the houses built of stakes driven
into the ground in an oval shape, were plastered with mud and sand,
whitewashed without, and some of a reddish glistening color within from
a peculiar kind of sand, thatched with grass, and only five or six feet
high, the council-house being usually on an elevation.[164] If the
reader will turn to the authorities quoted in the subjoined note, he
will find this an exact description of the towns and single dwellings of
the later Indians.[165] The women manufactured mats of down and feathers
with the same skill that a century later astonished Adair,[166] and
spun like these the wild hemp and the mulberry bark into various simple
articles of clothing. The fantastic custom of shaving the hair on
one-half the head, and permitting the other half to remain, on certain
emergencies, is also mentioned by later travellers.[167] Their food was
not so much game as peas, beans, maize, and other vegetables, produced
by cultivation; and the use of salt obtained from vegetable ashes, so
infrequent among the Indians, attracted the notice of Bristock as well
as Adair.[168] Their agricultural character reminds us of the Choktahs,
among whom the men helped their wives to labor in the field, and whom
Bernard Romans[169] called “a nation of farmers.” In Apalache, says
Dumont,[170] “we find a less rude, more refined nation, peopling its
meads and fertile vales, cultivating the earth, and living on the
abundance of excellent fruit it produces.”
Strange as a fairy tale is Bristock’s description of their chief temple
and the rites of their religion--of the holy mountain Olaimi lifting its
barren, round summit far above the capital city Melilot at its base--of
the two sacred caverns within this mount, the innermost two hundred feet
square and one hundred in height, wherein were the emblematic vase ever
filled with crystal water that trickled from the rock, and the “grand
altar” of one round stone, on which incense, spices, and aromatic shrubs
were the only offerings--of the platform, sculptured from the solid
rock, where the priests offered their morning orisons to the glorious
orb of their divinity at his daily birth--of their four great annual
feasts--all reminding us rather of the pompous rites of Persian or
Peruvian heliolatry than the simple sun worship of the Vesperic tribes.
Yet in essentials, in stated yearly feasts, in sun and fire worship, in
daily prayers at rising and setting sun, in frequent ablution, we
recognize through all this exaggeration and coloring, the religious
habits that actually prevailed in those regions. Indeed, the speculative
antiquarian may ask concerning Mount Olaimi itself, whether it may not
be identical with the enormous mass of granite known as “The Stone
Mountain” in De Kalb county, Georgia, whose summit presents an oval,
flat, and naked surface two or three hundred yards in width, by about
twice that in length, encircled by the remains of a mural construction
of unknown antiquity, and whose sides are pierced by the mouths of vast
caverns;[171] or with Lookout mountain between the Coosa and Tennessee
rivers, where Mr. Ferguson found a stone wall “thirty-seven roods and
eight feet in length,” skirting the brink of a precipice at whose base
were five rooms artificially constructed in the solid rock.[172]
One of the most decisive proofs of the veracity of Bristock’s narrative
is his assertion that they mummified the corpses of their chiefs
previous to interment. Recent discoveries of such mummies leave us no
room to doubt the prevalence of this custom among various Indian tribes
east of the Mississippi. It is of so much interest to the antiquarian,
that I shall add in an Appendix the details given on this point by later
writers, as well as an examination of the origin of those mummies that
have been occasionally disinterred in the caves of Tennessee and
Kentucky.[173]
One other topic for examination in Bristock’s memoir yet remains--the
scattered words of the language he mentions. The principal are the
following;[174]
Mayrdock--the Viracocha of their traditions.
Naarim--the month of March.
Theomi--proper name of the Gulf of Mexico.
Jauas--priests.
Tlatuici--the mountain tribes.
Paracussi--chief; a generic term.
Bersaykau--vale of cedars.
Akueyas--deer.
Hitanachi--pleasant, beautiful.
Tonatzuli--heavenly singer; the name of a bird sacred to the sun.
Several of these words may be explained from tongues with which we are
better acquainted.
_Jauas_ and _Pâracussi_ are words used in the sense they here bear in
many early writers; the derivation of the former will be considered
hereafter; that of the latter is uncertain. _Tlatuici_ is doubtless
identical with _Tsalakie_, the proper appellation of the Cherokee tribe.
_Akueyas_ has a resemblance, though remote, to the Seminole _ekko_ of
the same signification. In _hitanachi_ we recognize the Choktah
intensitive prefix _hhito_; and in _tonatzuli_ a compound of the Choktah
verb _taloa_, he sings, in one of its forms, with _shutik_, Muskohge
_sootah_, heaven or sky. A closer examination would doubtless reveal
other analogies, but the above are sufficient to show that these were no
mere unmeaning words, coined by a writer’s fancy.
The general result of these inquiries, therefore, is strongly in favor
of the authenticity of Bristock’s narrative. Exaggerated and distorted
though it be, nevertheless it is the product of actual observation, and
deserves to be classed among our authorities, though as one to be used
with the greatest caution. We have also found that though no general
migration took place from the continent southward, nor from the islands
northward, yet there was considerable intercourse in both directions;
that not only the natives of the greater and lesser Antilles and
Yucatan, but also numbers of the Guaranay stem of the southern
continent, the Caribs proper, crossed the Straits of Florida and founded
colonies on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico; that their customs and
language became to a certain extent grafted upon those of the earlier
possessors of the soil; and to this foreign language the name Apalache
belongs. As previously stated, it was used as a generic title, applied
to a confederation of many nations at one time under the domination of
one chief, whose power probably extended from the Alleghany mountains on
the north to the shore of the Gulf; that it included tribes speaking a
tongue closely akin to the Choktah is evident from the fragments we have
remaining. This is further illustrated by a few words of “Appalachian,”
preserved by John Chamberlayne.[175] These, with their congeners in
cognate dialects, are as follows:
_Apalachian._ _Choktah._ _Muskohge._
Father kelke aunkky, unky ilkhy
Heaven hetucoba ubbah,
_intensitive_,
hhito
Earth ahan yahkna ikahnah
Bread pasca puska
The location of the tribe in after years is very uncertain. Dumont
placed them in the northern part of what is now Alabama and Georgia,
near the mountains that bear their name. That a portion of them did live
in this vicinity is corroborated by the historians of South Carolina,
who say that Colonel Moore, in 1703, found them “between the head-waters
of the Savannah and Altamaha.”[176] De l’Isle, also, locates them
between the _R. des Caouitas ou R. de Mai_ and the _R. des Chaouanos ou
d’Edisco_, both represented as flowing nearly parallel from the
mountains.
According to all the Spanish authorities on the other hand, they dwelt
in the region of country between the Suwannee and Apalachicola
rivers--yet must not be confounded with the Apalachicolos. Thus St.
Marks was first named San Marco de Apalache, and it was near here that
Narvaez and De Soto found them. They certainly had a large and
prosperous town in this vicinity, said to contain a thousand warriors,
whose chief was possessed of much influence.[177] De l’Isle makes this
their original locality, inscribing it “_Icy estoient cy devant les
Apalaches_,” and their position in his day as one acquired subsequently.
That they were driven from the Apalachicola by the Alibamons and other
western tribes in 1705, does not admit of a doubt, yet it is equally
certain that at the time of the cession of the country to the English,
(1763,) they retained a small village near St. Marks, called San
Juan.[178] I am inclined to believe that these were different branches
of the same confederacy, and the more so as we find a similar
discrepancy in the earliest narratives of the French and Spanish
explorers.
In the beginning of the eighteenth century they suffered much from the
devastations of the English, French, and Creeks; indeed, it has been
said, though erroneously, that the last remnant of their tribe “was
totally destroyed by the Creeks in 1719.”[179] About the time Spain
regained possession of the soil, they migrated to the West and settled
on the Bayou Rapide of Red River. Here they had a village numbering
about fifty souls, and preserved for a time at least their native
tongue, though using the French and Mobilian (Chikasah) for common
purposes.[180] Breckenridge,[181] who saw them here, describes them as
“wretched creatures, who are diminishing daily.” Probably by this time
the last representative of this once powerful tribe has perished.
CHAPTER III.
PENINSULAR TRIBES OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
§ 1. SITUATION AND SOCIAL CONDITION.--Caloosas.--Tegesta and
Ais.--Tocobaga.--Vitachuco.--Utina.--Soturiba.--Method of Government.
§ 2. CIVILIZATION.--Appearance.--Games.--Agriculture.--Construction of
Dwellings.--Clothing.
§ 3. RELIGION.--General Remarks.--Festivals in honor of the Sun and
Moon.--Sacrifices.--Priests.--Sepulchral Rites.
§ 4. LANGUAGES.--Timuquana Tongue.--Words preserved by the French.
§ 1.--SITUATION AND SOCIAL CONDITION.
When in the sixteenth century the Europeans began to visit Florida they
did not, as is asserted by the excellent bishop of Chiapa, meet with
numerous well ordered and civilized nations,[182] but on the contrary
found the land sparsedly peopled by a barbarous and quarrelsome race of
savages, rent asunder into manifold petty clans, with little peaceful
leisure wherein to better their condition, wasting their lives in
aimless and unending internecine war. Though we read of the cacique
Vitachuco who opposed De Soto with ten thousand chosen warriors, of
another who had four thousand always ready for battle,[183] and other
such instances of distinguished power, we must regard them as the
hyperbole of men describing an unknown and strange land, supposed to
abound in marvels of every description. The natural laws that regulate
the increase of all hunting tribes, the analogy of other nations of
equal civilization, the nature of the country, and lastly, the adverse
testimony of these same writers, forbid us to entertain any other
supposition. Including men, women, and children, the aboriginal
population of the whole peninsula probably but little exceeded at any
one time ten thousand souls. At the period of discovery these were
parcelled out into villages, a number of which, uniting together for
self-protection, recognized the authority of one chief. How many there
were of these confederacies, or what were the precise limits of each, as
they never were stable, so it is impossible to lay down otherwise than
in very general terms, dependent as we are for our information on the
superficial notices of military explorers, who took an interest in
anything rather than the political relations of the nations they were
destroying.
Commencing at the south, we find the extremity of the peninsula divided
into two independent provinces, one called Tegesta on the shores of the
Atlantic, the other and most important on the west or Gulf coast
possessed by the Caloosa tribe.
The derivation of the name of the latter is uncertain. The French not
distinguishing the final letter wrote it Calos and Callos; the
Spaniards, in addition to making the same omission, softened the first
vowel till the word sounded like Carlos, which is their usual
orthography. This suggested to Barcia and others that the country was so
called from the name of its chief, who, hearing from his Spanish
captives the grandeur and power of Charles of Spain (Carlos V), in
emulation appropriated to himself the title. Doubtless, however, it is a
native word; and so Fontanedo, from whom we derive most of our knowledge
of the province, and who was acquainted with the language, assures us.
He translates it “_village cruel_,”[184] an interpretation that does not
enlighten us much, but which may refer to the exercise of the sovereign
power. As a proper name, it may be the Muskohge _charlo_, trout,
assumed, according to a common custom, by some individual. It is still
preserved in the Seminole appellation of the Sanybal river,
Carlosa-hatchie and Caloosa-hatchie, and in that of the bay of Carlos,
corrupted by the English to Charlotte Harbor, both on the southwestern
coast of the peninsula near north latitude 26° 40´.
According to Fontanedo, the province included fifty villages of thirty
or forty inhabitants each, as follows: “Tampa, Tomo, Tuchi, Sogo, No
which means beloved village, Sinapa, Sinaesta, Metamapo, Sacaspada,
Calaobe, Estame, Yagua, Guayu, Guevu, Muspa, Casitoa, Tatesta, Coyovea,
Jutun, Tequemapo, Comachica, Quisiyove, and two others; on Lake Mayaimi,
Cutespa, Tavaguemme, Tomsobe, Enempa, and twenty others; in the Lucayan
Isles, Guarunguve and Cuchiaga.” Some of these are plainly Spanish
names, while others undoubtedly belong to the native tongue. Of these
villages, Tampa has given its name to the inlet formerly called the bay
of Espiritu Santo[185] and to the small town at its head. Muspa was the
name of a tribe of Indians who till the close of the last century
inhabited the shores and islands in and near Boca Grande, where they are
located on various old maps. Thence they were driven to the Keys and
finally annihilated by the irruptions of the Seminoles and
Spaniards.[186] Guaragunve, or Guaragumbe, described by Fontanedo as the
largest Indian village on Los Martires, and which means “the village of
tears,” is probably a modified orthography of Matacumbe and identical
with the island of Old Matacumbe, remarkable for the quantity of lignum
vitæ there found,[187] and one of the last refuges of the Muspa Indians.
Lake Mayaimi, around which so many villages were situated, is identical
with lake Okee-chobee, called on the older maps and indeed as late as
Tanner’s and Carey’s, Myaco and Macaco. When Aviles ascended the St.
Johns, he was told by the natives that it took its origin “from a great
lake called Maimi thirty leagues in extent,” from which also streams
flowed westerly to Carlos.[188] In sound the word resembles the Seminole
_pai-okee_ or _pai-hai-o-kee_, grassy lake, the name applied with great
fitness by this tribe to the Everglades.[189] When travelling in
Florida I found a small body of water near Manatee called lake Mayaco,
and on the eastern shore the river Miami preserves the other form of the
name.
The chief of the province dwelt in a village twelve or fourteen leagues
from the southernmost cape.[190] The earliest of whom we have any
account, Sequene by name, ruled about the period of the discovery of the
continent. During his reign Indians came from Cuba and Honduras, seeking
the fountain of life. He was succeeded by Carlos, first of the name, who
in turn was followed by his son Carlos. In the time of the latter,
Francesco de Reinoso, under the command of Pedro Menendez de Aviles, the
founder of St. Augustine and Adelantado of Florida, established a colony
in this territory, which, however, owing to dissensions with the
natives, never flourished, and finally the Cacique was put to death by
Reinoso for some hostile demonstration. His son was taken by Aviles to
Havana to be educated and there baptized Sebastian. Every attempt was
made to conciliate him, and reconcile him to the Spanish supremacy but
all in vain, as on his return he became “more troublesome and barbarous
than ever.” This occurred about 1565-1575.[191] Not long after his death
the integrity of the state was destroyed, and splitting up into lesser
tribes, each lived independent. They gradually diminished in number
under the repeated attacks of the Spaniards on the south and their more
warlike neighbors on the north. Vast numbers were carried into captivity
by both, and at one period the Keys were completely depopulated. The
last remnant of the tribe was finally cooped up on Cayo Vaco and Cayo
Hueso (Key West), where they became notorious for their inhumanity to
the unfortunate mariners wrecked on that dangerous reef. Ultimately, at
the cession of Florida, to England in 1763, they migrated in a body to
Cuba, to the number of eighty families, since which nothing is known of
their fate.[192]
Of the province of Tegesta, situate to the west of the Caloosas, we have
but few notices. It embraced a string of villages, the inhabitants of
which were famed as expert fishers, (grandes Pescadores,) stretching
from Cape Cañaveral to the southern extremity.[193] The more northern
portion was in later times called Ais, (Ays, Is) from the native word
_aïsa_, deer, and by the Spaniards, who had a post here, Santa
Lucea.[194] The residence of the chief was near Cape Cañaveral, probably
on Indian river, and not more than five days journey from the chief town
of the Caloosas.
At the period of the French settlements, such amity existed between
these neighbors, that the ruler of the latter sought in marriage the
daughter of Oathcaqua, chief of Tegesta, a maiden of rare and renowned
beauty. Her father, well aware how ticklish is the tenure of such a
jewel, willingly granted the desire of his ally and friend. Encompassing
her about with stalwart warriors, and with maidens not a few for her
companions, he started to conduct her to her future spouse. But alas!
for the anticipations of love! Near the middle of his route was a lake
called Serrope, nigh five leagues about, encircling an island, whereon
dwelt a race of men valorous in war and opulent from a traffic in dates,
fruits, and a root “so excellent well fitted for bread, that you could
not possibly eat better,” which formed the staple food of their
neighbors for fifteen leagues around. These, fired by the reports of her
beauty and the charms of the attendant maidens, waylay the party, rout
the warriors, put the old father to flight, and carry off in triumph the
princess and her fair escort, with them to share the joys and wonders of
their island home.
Such is the romantic story told Laudonniére by a Spaniard long captive
among the natives.[195] Why seek to discredit it? May not Serrope be the
beautiful Lake Ware in Marion county, which flows around a fertile
central isle that lies like an emerald on its placid bosom, still
remembered in tradition as the ancient residence of an Indian
prince,[196] and where relics of the red man still exist? The dates,
_les dattes_, may have been the fruit of the Prunus Chicasaw, an exotic
fruit known to have been cultivated by the later Indians, and the bread
a preparation of the coonta root or the yam.
North of the province of Carlos, throughout the country around the
Hillsboro river, and from it probably to the Withlacooche, and easterly
to the Ocklawaha, all the tribes appear to have been under the
domination of one ruler. The historians of De Soto’s expedition called
the one in power at that period, Paracoxi, Hurripacuxi, and
Urribarracuxi, names, however different in orthography, not unlike in
sound, and which are doubtless corruptions of one and the same word,
otherwise spelled Paracussi, and which was a generic appellation of the
chiefs from Maryland to Florida. The town where they found him residing,
is variously stated as twenty, twenty-five, and thirty leagues from the
coast,[197] and has by later writers been located on the head-waters of
the Hillsboro river.[198] In later times the cacique dwelt in a village
on Old Tampa Bay, twenty leagues from the main, called Tocobaga or
Togabaja,[199] (whence the province derived its name,) and was reputed
to be the most potent in Florida. A large mound still seen in the
vicinity marks the spot.
This confederacy waged a desultory warfare with their southern
neighbors. In 1567, Aviles, then superintending the construction of a
fort among the Caloosas, resolved to establish a peace between them, and
for this purpose went himself to Tocobaga. He there located a garrison,
but the span of its existence was almost as brief as that of the peace
he instituted. Subsequently, when the attention of the Spaniards became
confined to their settlements on the eastern coast, they lost sight of
this province, and thus no particulars of its after history are
preserved.
The powerful chief Vitachuco, who is mentioned in the most extravagant
terms by La Vega and the Gentleman of Elvas, seems, in connection with
his two brothers, to have ruled over the rolling pine lands and broad
fertile savannas now included in Marion and Alachua counties. Though his
power is undoubtedly greatly over-estimated by these writers, we have
reason to believe, both from existing remains and from the capabilities
of the country, that this was the most densely populated portion of the
peninsula, and that its possessors enjoyed a degree of civilization
superior to that of the majority of their neighbors.
The chief Potavou mentioned in the French accounts, residing about
twenty-five leagues, or two days’ journey from the territory of Utina,
and at war with him, appears to have lived about the same spot, and may
have been a successor or subject of the cacique of this province.[200]
The rich hammocks that border the upper St. Johns and the flat pine
woods that stretch away on either side of this river, as far south as
the latitude of Cape Cañaveral,[201] were at the time of the first
settlement of the country under the control of a chief called by the
Spanish Utina, and more fully by the French Olata Ouæ Outina. His
stationary residence was on the banks of the river near the northern
extremity of Lake George, in which locality certain extensive
earthworks are still found, probably referable to this period. So wide
was his dominion that it was said to embrace more than forty subordinate
chiefs,[202] which, however, are to be understood only as the heads of
so many single villages. It is remarkable, and not very easy of
satisfactory explanation, that among nine of these mentioned by
Laudonniére,[203] two, Acquera and Moquoso, are the names of villages
among the first encountered by De Soto in his march through the
peninsula, and said by all the historians of the expedition to be
subject to the chief Paracoxi.
Soturiba (Sotoriva, Satouriona) was a powerful chief, claiming the
territory around the mouth of the St. Johns, and northward along the
coast nearly as far as the Savannah. Thirty sub-chiefs acknowledged his
supremacy, and his influence extended to a considerable distance inland.
He showed himself an implacable enemy to the Spaniards, and in 1567,
assisted Dominique de Gourgues to destroy their settlements on the St.
Johns. His successor, Casicola, is spoken of by Nicolas Bourguignon as
the “lord of ten thousand Indians,” and ruler of all the land “between
St. Augustine and St. Helens.”
The political theories on which these confederacies were based, differed
singularly in some particulars from those of the Indians of higher
latitudes. Among the latter the chief usually won his position by his
own valor and wisdom, held it only so long as he maintained this
superiority, and dying, could appoint no heir to his pre-eminence. His
counsel was sought only in an emergency, and his authority coerced his
fellows to no subjection. All this was reversed among the Floridians.
The children of the first wife inherited the power and possessions of
their father,[204] the eldest getting the lion’s share; the sub-chiefs
paid to their superior stated tributes of roots, games, skins, and
similar articles;[205] and these superiors held unquestioned and
absolute power over the persons, property, and time of their
subjects.[206] Among the Caloosas, indeed, the king was considered of
divine nature, and believed to have the power to grant or withhold
seasons favorable to the crops, and fortune in the chase; a superstition
the shrewd chief took care to foster by retiring at certain periods
almost unattended to a solitary spot, ostensibly to confer with the gods
concerning the welfare of the nation.[207] In war the chief led the van
with a chosen body guard for his protection,[208] and in peace daily
sate in the council house, there both to receive the homage of his
inferiors, and to advise with his counsellors on points of national
interest. The devotion of the native to their ruler, willingly losing
their lives in his defence, is well illustrated in the instance of
Vitachuco, killed by De Soto. So scrupulously was the line of
demarcation preserved between them and their subjects, that even their
food was of different materials.[209]
§ 2.--CIVILIZATION.
The Floridians were physically a large, well proportioned race, of that
light shade of brown termed by the French _olivâtre_. On the southern
coast they were of a darker color, caused by exposure to the rays of the
sun while fishing, and are described by Herrera as “of great stature and
fearful to look upon,” (de grandes cuerpos y de espantosa vista). What
rendered their aspect still more formidable to European eyes was the
habit of tattooing their skin, practiced for the double purpose of
increasing their beauty, and recording their warlike exploits. Though
this is a perfectly natural custom, and common wherever a warm climate
and public usage permits the uncivilized man to reject clothing a
portion of the year, instances are not wanting where it has been made
the basis of would-be profound ethnological hypotheses.
In their athletic sports they differed in no notable degree from other
tribes. A favorite game was that of ball. In playing this they erected a
pole about fifty feet in height in the centre of the public square; on
the summit of this was a mark, which the winning party struck with the
ball.[210] The very remarkable “pillar” at the Creek town of Atasse on
the Tallapoosa river, one day’s journey from the Coosa, which puzzled
the botanist Bartram,[211] and which a living antiquarian of high
reputation has connected with phallic worship,[212] was probably one of
these solitary trunks, or else the “red painted great war-pole” of the
southern Indians,[213] usually about the same height.
In some parts they had rude musical instruments, drums, and a sort of
flute fashioned from the wild cane,[214] the hoarse screeching of which
served to testify their joy on festive occasions. A primitive pipe of
like construction, the earliest attempt at melody, but producing
anything but sounds melodious, was common among the later Chicasaws[215]
and the Indians of Central America.[216]
Their agriculture was of that simple character common to most North
American tribes. They planted twice in the year, in June or July and
March, crops of maize, beans, and other vegetables, working the ground
with such indifferent instruments as sticks pointed, or with fish bones
and clam-shells adjusted to them.[217] Yet such abundant return rewarded
this slight toil that, says De Soto,[218] the largest army could be
supported without exhausting the resources of the land. In accordance
with their monarchical government the harvests were deposited in public
granaries, whence it was dispensed by the chief to every family
proportionately to the number of its members. When the stock was
exhausted before the succeeding crop was ripe, which was invariably the
case, forsaking their fixed abodes, they betook themselves to the
woods, where an abundance of game, quantities of fish and oysters, and
the many esculent vegetables indigenous in that latitude, offered them
an easy and not precarious subsistence.
Their dwellings were collected into a village, circular in form, and
surrounded with posts twice the height of a man, set firmly in the
ground, with interfolding entrance. If we may rely on the sketches of De
Morgues, taken from memory, the houses were all round and the floors
level with the ground, except that of the chief, which occupied the
centre of the village, was in shape an oblong parallelogram, and the
floor somewhat depressed below the surface level.[219] In other parts
the house for the ruler and his immediate attendants was built on an
elevation either furnished by nature or else artificially constructed.
Such was the “hie mount made with hands,” described by the Portuguese
Gentleman at the spot where De Soto landed, and which is supposed by
some to be the one still seen in the village of Tampa. Some of these
were of sufficient size to accommodate twenty dwellings, with roads
leading to the summits on one side, and quite inaccessible on all
others.
Most of the houses were mere sheds or log huts thatched with the leaf of
the palmetto, a plant subservient to almost as many purposes as the
bread-fruit tree of the South Sea Islands. Occasionally, however, the
whole of a village was comprised in a single enormous habitation,
circular in form, from fifty to one hundred feet in diameter. Into its
central area, which was sometimes only partially roofed, opened
numerous cabins, from eight to twelve feet square, arranged around the
circumference, each the abode of a separate family. Such was the edifice
seen by Cabeza de Vaca “that could contain more than three hundred
persons” (que cabrian mas de trecientas personas);[220] such that found
by De Soto in the town of Ochile on the frontiers of the province of
Vitachuco; such those on the north-eastern coast of the peninsula
described by Jonathan Dickinson.[221]
The agreeable temperature that prevails in those latitudes throughout
the year did away with much of the need of clothing, and consequently
their simple wardrobe seems to have included nothing beyond deerskins
dressed and colored with vegetable dyes, and a light garment made of the
long Spanish moss (_Tillandsia usneoides_), the gloomy drapery of the
cypress swamps, or of the leaves of the palmetto. A century and a half
later Captain Nairn describes them with little or no clothing, “all
painted,” and with no arms but spears, “harpoos,” pointed with fish
bones.
§ 3.--RELIGION.
It is usual to consider the religion and mythology of a nation of
weighty import in determining its origin; but to him, who regards these
as the spontaneous growth of the human mind, brought into existence by
the powers of nature, nourished by the mental constitution of man, and
shaped by external circumstances, all of which are “everywhere
different yet everywhere the same,” general similarities of creed and of
rite appear but deceptive bases for ethnological theories. The same
great natural forces are eternally at work, above, around and beneath
us, producing similar results in matter, educing like conceptions in
mind. He who attentively compares any two mythologies whatever, will
find so many points of identity and resemblance that he will readily
appreciate the capital error of those who deduce original unity of race
from natural conformity of rite. Such is the fallacy of those who would
derive the ancient population of the American continent from a fragment
of an insignificant Semitic tribe in Syria; and of the Catholic
missionaries, who imputed variously to St. Thomas and to Satan the many
religious ceremonies and legends, closely allied to those of their own
faith, found among the Aztecs and Guatemalans.
In investigations of this nature, therefore, we must critically
distinguish between the local and the universal elements of religions.
Do we aim by analysis to arrive at the primal theistic notions of the
human mind and their earliest outward expression? The latter alone can
lead us. Or is it our object to use mythology only as a handmaid to
history, an index of migrations, and a record of external influence? The
impressions of local circumstances are our only guides.
The tribes of the New World, like other early and uncivilized nations,
chose the sun as the object of their adoration; either holding it to be
itself the Deity, as did most of the indwellers of the warm zones, or,
as the natives of colder climes, only the most august object of His
creation, a noble emblem of Himself. Intimately connected with both,
ever recurring in some one of its Protean forms, is the worship of the
reciprocal principle.
The Floridian Indians belonged to the first of these classes. They
worshipped the sun and moon, and in their honor held such simple
festivals as are common in the earlier stages of religious development.
Among these the following are worthy of specification.
After a successful foray they elevated the scalps of their enemies on
poles decked with garlands, and for three days and three nights danced
and sang around them.[222] The wreaths here probably had the same
symbolical significance as those which adorned the Athenian Hermes,[223]
or which the Maypures of the Orinoco used at their weddings, or those
with which the northern tribes ornamented rough blocks of stone.
Their principal festival was at the first corn-planting, about the
beginning of March. At this ceremony a deer was sacrificed to the sun,
and its body, or according to others its skin stuffed with fruits and
grain, was elevated on a tall pole or tree stripped of its branches, an
object of religious veneration, and around which were danced and sung
the sacred choruses;[224] a custom also found by Loskiel among the
Delawares,[225] and which, recognizing the deer or stag as a solar
emblem, surmounting the phallic symbol, the upright stake, has its
parallel in Peruvian heliolatry and classical mythology.
The feast of Toya, though seen by the French north of the peninsula and
perhaps peculiar to the tribes there situate, presents some remarkable
peculiarities. It occurred about the end of May, probably when the green
corn became eatable. Those who desired to take part in it, having
apparelled themselves in various attire, assembled on the appointed day
in the council house. Here three priests took charge of them, and led
them to the great square, which they danced around thrice, yelling and
beating drums. Suddenly at a given signal from the priests they broke
away “like unbridled horses” (comme chevaux débridez), plunging into the
thickest forests. Here they remained three days without touching food or
drink, engaged in the performance of mysterious duties. Meanwhile the
women of the tribe, weeping and groaning, bewailed them as if dead,
tearing their hair and cutting themselves and their daughters with sharp
stones; as the blood flowed from these frightful gashes, they caught it
on their fingers, and, crying out loudly three times _he Toya_, threw it
into the air. At the expiration of the third day the men returned; all
was joy again; they embraced their friends as though back from a long
journey; a dance was held on the public square; and all did famous
justice to a bounteous repast spread in readiness.[226] The analogy that
these rites bear to the Διονυσια and similar observances of the ancients
is very striking, and doubtless they had a like significance. The
singular predominance of the number three, which we shall also find
repeated in other connections, cannot escape the most cursory reader.
Nor is this a rare or exceptional instance where it occurs in American
religions; it is bound up in the most sacred myths and holiest
observances all over the continent.[227] Obscure though the reason may
be, certain it is that the numbers three, four, and seven, are hallowed
by their intimate connection with the most occult rites and profoundest
mysteries of every religion of the globe, and not less so in America
than in the older continent.
In the worship of the moon, which in all mythologies represents the
female principle, their rites were curious and instructive. Of those
celebrated at full moon by the tribes on the eastern coast, Dickinson,
an eyewitness, has left us the following description:--“The moon being
up, an Indian who performeth their ceremonies, stood out, looking full
at the moon, making a hideous noise and crying out, acting like a
mad-man for the space of half an hour, all the Indians being silent till
he had done; after which they all made a fearful noise, some like the
barking of a dogg or wolf, and other strange sounds; after this one gets
a logg and setts himself down; holding the stick or logg upright on the
ground, and several others getting about him, made a hideous noise,
singing to our amazement.” This they kept up till midnight, the women
taking part.[228]
On the day of new moon they placed upright in the ground “a staff almost
eight foot long having a broad arrow on the end thereof, and thence
half-way painted red and white, like unto a barber’s-pole; in the middle
of the staff is fixed a piece of wood, like unto the thigh, legg, and
foot of a man, and the lower part thereof is painted black.” At its
base was placed a basket containing six rattles; each taking one and
making a violent noise, the six chief men of the village including the
priest danced and sang around the pole till they were fatigued, when
others, painted in various devices, took their place; and so on in turn.
These festivities continued three days, the day being devoted to rest
and feasting, the night to the dance and fasting; during which time no
woman must look upon them.[229] How distinctly we recognize in this the
worship of the reciprocal principle!--that ever novel mystery of
reproduction shadowed forth by a thousand ingenious emblems, by a myriad
strange devices, all replete with a deep significance to him who is
versed in the subtleties of symbolism. Even among these wretched savages
we find the colors black, white, and red, retain that solemn import so
usual in oriental mythi.
The representation of a leg used in this observance must not be
considered a sign of idolatry, for, though the assertion, advanced, by
both Adair[230] and Klemm,[231] that no idols whatever were worshipped
by the hunting tribes, is unquestionably erroneous and can be disproved
by numerous examples, in the peninsula of Florida they seem to have been
totally unknown. The image of a bird, made of wood, seen at the village
where De Soto first landed, cannot be regarded as such, but was a
symbol common among several of the southern tribes, and does not appear
to have had any special religious meaning.
Human sacrifice, so rare among the Algic nations, was not unknown,
though carried to by no means such an appalling extent as among the
native accolents of the Mississippi. The chief of the Caloosas immolated
every year one person, usually a Christian, to the principle of evil (al
Demonio)[232], as a propitiary offering; hence on one old map, that of
De L’Isle, they are marked “Les Carlos Antropophages.” Likewise around
the St. Johns they were accustomed to sacrifice the firstborn son,
killing him by blows on the head;[233] but it is probable this only
obtained to a limited observance. In all other cases their offerings
consisted of grains and fruits.
The veneration of the serpent, which forms such an integral part of all
nature religions, and relics of which are retained in the most
perfected, is reported to have prevailed among these tribes. When a
soldier of De Gourgues had killed one, the natives cut off its head and
carried it away with great care and respect (avec vu grand soin et
diligence).[234] The same superstitious fear of injuring these reptiles
was retained in later days by the Seminoles.[235]
The priests constituted an important class in the community. Their
generic appellation, _javas_, _jauas_, _jaruars_, _jaovas_, _jaonas_,
_jaiias_, _javiinas_,--for all these and more orthographies are
given--has been properly derived by Adair from the meaningless
exclamation _yah-wah_, used as name, interjection, and invocation by the
southern Indians. It is not, however, an etymon borrowed from the Hebrew
as he and Boudinot argue, but consists of two slightly varied
enunciations of the first and simplest vowel sound; as such, it
constitutes the natural utterance of the infant in its earliest wail,
and, as the easiest cry of relief of the frantic devotee all over the
world, is the principal constituent of the proper name of the deity in
many languages. Like the medas of the Algonquins and the medicine men of
other tribes, they united in themselves the priest, the physician, and
the sorcerer. In sickness they were always ready with their bag of herbs
and simples, and so much above contempt was their skill in the healing
art that not unfrequently they worked cures of a certain troublesome
disease sadly prevalent among the Indians and said by some to have
originated from them. Magicians were they of such admirable subtlety as
to restore what was lost, command the unwilling rain from heaven in time
of drought, and foretell the position of an enemy or the result of a
battle. As priests, they led and ordered festivals, took part in grave
deliberations, and did their therapeutic art fail to cure, were ready
with spiritual power to console, in the emergencies of pain and death.
Their sepulchral rites were various. Along the St. Johns, when a chief
died they interred the corpse with appropriate honors, raised a mound
two or three feet high above the grave, surrounded it with arrows fixed
in the ground, and on its summit deposited the conch, _le hanap_, from
which he was accustomed to drink. The tribe fasted and mourned three
days and three nights, and for six moons women were employed to bewail
his death, lamenting loudly thrice each day at sunrise, at mid-day, and
at sunset.[236] All his possessions were placed in his dwelling, and the
whole burnt; a custom arising from a superstitious fear of misfortune
consequent on using the chattels of the dead, a sentiment natural to the
unphilosophic mind. It might not be extravagant to suppose that the
shell had the same significance as the urn so frequent in the tombs of
Egypt and the sepulchres of Magna Græcia, “an emblem of the hope that
should cheer the dwellings of the dead.”[237] The burial of the priests
was like that of the chiefs, except that the spot chosen was in their
own houses, and the whole burnt over them, resembling in this a practice
universal among the Caribs, and reappearing among the Natchez, Cherokees
and Arkansas, (Taencas).
Among the Caloosas and probably various other tribes, the corpses were
placed in the open air, apparently for the purpose of obtaining the
bones when the flesh had sufficiently decomposed, which, like the more
northern tribes, they interred in common sepulchres, heaping dirt over
them so as to form mounds. It was as a guard to watch over these exposed
bodies, and to prevent their desecration by wild beasts, that Juan
Ortiz, the Spaniard of Seville, liberated by De Soto, had been employed
while a prisoner among the nations of the Gulf Coast.
§ 4.--LANGUAGE.
A philological examination of the Floridian tribes, which would throw so
much light on their origin, affiliation, and many side-questions of
general interest, must for the present remain unattempted, save in a
very inadequate manner. Not but that there exists material, ample and
well-arranged material, but it is not yet within reach. I have already
spoken of the works of the Father Pareja, the learned and laborious
Franciscan, and of the good service he did the missionaries by his works
on the Timuquana tongue. Not a single copy of any of these exists in the
United States, and till a republication puts them within reach of the
linguist, little can be done towards clearing up the doubt that now
hangs over the philology of this portion of our country. What few
extracts are given by Hervas, hardly warrant a guess as to their
classification.
The name Timuquana, otherwise spelled Timuaca, Timagoa, and Timuqua, in
which we recognize the Thimogona of the French colonists, was applied to
the tongue prevalent in the immediate vicinity of St. Augustine and
toward the mouth of the St. Johns. It was also held in estimation as a
noble and general language, a sort of _lingua franca_, throughout the
peninsula. Pareja remarks, “Those Indians that differ most in words and
are roughest in their enunciation (mas toscos), namely those of
Tucururu[238] and of Santa Lucea de Acuera, in order to be understood
by the natives of the southern coast, who speak another tongue, use the
dialect of Moscama, which is the most polished of all (la mas politica),
and that of Timuquana, as I myself have proved, for they understood me
when I preached to them.”[239]
This language is remarkable for its singularly numerous changes in the
common names of individuals, dependent on mutual relationship and the
varying circumstances of life, which, though not the only instance of
the kind in American tongues, is here extraordinarily developed, and in
the opinion of Adelung seems to hint at some previous, more cultivated
condition (in gewissen Hinsicht einen cultivirteren Zustand des Volks
anzeigen möchte).[240] For example, _iti_, father, was used only during
his life; if he left descendants he was spoken of as _siki_, but if he
died without issue, as _naribica-pasano_: the father called his son
_chiricoviro_, other males _kie_, and all females _ulena_. Such
variations in dialect, or rather quite different dialects in the same
family, extraordinary as it may seem to the civilized man, were not very
uncommon among the warlike, erratic hordes of America. They are
attributable to various causes. The esoteric language of the priests of
Peru and Virginia might have been either meaningless incantations, as
those that of yore resounded around the Pythian and Delphic shrines, or
the _disjecta membra_ of some ancient tongue, like the Dionysiac songs
of Athens. When as among the Abipones of Paraguay, the Natchez of
Louisiana, and the Incas of Peru, the noble or dominant race has its
own peculiar tongue, we must impute it to foreign invasion, and a
subsequent rigorous definition of the line of cast and prevention of
amalgamation. Another consequence of war occurs when the women and
children of the defeated race are alone spared, especially should the
males be much absent and separated from the females; then each sex has
its peculiar language, which may be preserved for generations; such was
found to be the case on some of the Caribbee islands and on the coast of
Guiana. Also certain superstitious observances, the avoidance of evil
omens, and the mere will of individuals, not seldom worked changes of
this nature. In such cases these dialects stand as waymarks in the
course of time, referring us back to some period of unity, of strife, or
of migration, whence they proceeded, and as such, require the greatest
caution to be exercised in deducing from them any general ethnographical
inferences.
What we are to judge in the present instance is not yet easy to say.
Hervas does not hesitate to assert that abundant proof exists to ally
this with the Guaranay (Carib) stock. Besides a likeness in some
etymons, he takes pains to lay before the reader certain similar rites
of intermarriage, quotes Barcia to show that Carib colonies actually did
land on Florida, and adds an ideal sketch of the _Antigua configuracion
del golfo Mexicano y del mar Atlantico_, thereon proving how readily in
ancient ages, under altered geological conditions, such a migration
could have been effected.
Without altogether differing from the learned abbé in his position, for
it savors strongly of truth, it might be well, with what material we
have at hand, to see whether other analogies could be discovered. The
pronominal adjectives and the first three numerals are as follows;--
na mine mile our
ye thine yaye your
mima his lama their
minecotamano one
naiuchanima two
nakapumima three
Now, bearing in mind that the pronouns of the first and second persons
and the numerals are primitive words, and that in American philology it
is a rule almost without exception that personal pronouns and pronominal
adjectives are identical in their consonants,[241] we have five
primitive words before us. On comparing them with other aboriginal
tongues, the _n_ of the first person singular is found common to the
Algonquin Lenape family, but in all other points they are such contrasts
that this must pass for an accidental similarity. A resemblance may be
detected between the Uchee _nowah_, two, _nokah_, three, and
_naiucha_-mima, _naka_-pumima. Taken together, _iti-na_, my father,
sounds not unlike the Cherokee _etawta_, and Adelung notices the slight
difference there is between _niha_, eldest brother, and the Illinois
_nika_, my brother. But these are trifling compared to the affinities to
the Carib, and I should not be astonished if a comparison of Pareja with
Gilü and D’Orbigny placed beyond doubt its relationship to this family
of languages. Should this brief notice give rise to such an
investigation, my object in inserting it will have been accomplished.
The French voyagers occasionally noted down a word or two of the
tongues they encountered, and indeed Laudonniére assures us that he
could understand the greater part of what they said. Such were _tapagu
tapola_, little baskets of corn, _sieroa pira_, red metal, _antipola
bonnasson_, a term of welcome meaning, brother, friend, or something of
that sort (qui vaut autant à dire comme frère, amy, ou chose
semblable).[242] Albert Gallatin[243] subjected these to a critical
examination, but deciphered none except the last. This he derives from
the Choktah _itapola_, allies, literally, they help each other, while
“in Muskohgee, _inhisse_, is, his friends, and _ponhisse_, our friends,”
which seems a satisfactory solution. It was used as a friendly greeting
both at the mouth of the St. Johns and thirty leagues north of that
river; but this does not necessarily prove the natives of those
localities belonged to the Chahta family, as an expression of this sort
would naturally gain wide prevalence among very diverse tribes.
Fontanedo has also preserved some words of the more southern languages,
but none of much importance.
CHAPTER IV.
LATER TRIBES.
§ 1. Yemassees.--Uchees.--Apalachicolos.--Migrations northward.
§ 2. Seminoles.
§ 1.--YEMASSEES AND OTHER TRIBES.
About the close of the seventeenth century, when the tribes who
originally possessed the peninsula had become dismembered and reduced by
prolonged conflicts with the whites and between themselves, various
bands from the more northern regions, driven from their ancestral homes
partly by the English and partly by a spirit of restlessness, sought to
fix their habitations in various parts of Florida.
The earliest of these were the Savannahs or Yemassees (Yammassees,
Jamasees, Eamuses,) a branch of the Muskogeh or Creek nation, who
originally inhabited the shores of the Savannah river and the low
country of Carolina. Here they generally maintained friendly relations
with the Spanish, who at one period established missions among them,
until the arrival of the English. These purchased their land, won their
friendship, and embittered them against their former friends. As the
colony extended, they gradually migrated southward, obtaining a home by
wresting from their red and white possessors the islands and mainland
along the coast of Georgia and Florida. The most disastrous of these
inroads was in 1686, when they drove the Spanish colonists from all the
islands north of the St. Johns, and laid waste the missions and
plantations that had been commenced upon them. Subsequently, spreading
over the savannas of Alachua and the fertile plains of Middle Florida,
they conjoined with the fragments of older nations to form separate
tribes, as the Chias, Canaake, Tomocos or Atimucas, and others. Of these
the last-mentioned were the most important. They dwelt between the St.
Johns and the Suwannee, and possessed the towns of Jurlo Noca, Alachua,
Nuvoalla, and others. At the devastation of their settlements by the
English and Creeks in 1704, 1705 and 1706, they removed to the shores of
Musquito Lagoon, sixty-five miles south of St. Augustine, where they had
a village, long known as the Pueblo de Atimucas.
A portion of the tribe remained in Carolina, dwelling on Port Royal
Island, whence they made frequent attacks on the Christian Indians of
Florida, carrying them into captivity, and selling them to the English.
In April, 1715, however, instigated as was supposed by the Spanish, they
made a sudden attack on the neighboring settlements, but were repulsed
and driven from the country. They hastened to St. Augustine, “where they
were received with bells ringing and guns firing,”[244] and given a spot
of ground within a mile of the city. Here they resided till the attack
of Colonel Palmer in 1727, who burnt their village and destroyed most of
its inhabitants. Some, however, escaped, and to the number of twenty
men, lived in St. Augustine about the middle of the century. Finally,
this last miserable remnant was enslaved by the Seminoles, and sunk in
the Ocklawaha branch of that tribe.[245]
Originating from near the same spot as the Yemassees were the Uchees.
When first encountered by the whites, they possessed the country on the
Carolina side of the Savannah river for more than one hundred and fifty
miles, commencing sixty miles from its mouth, and, consequently, just
west of the Yemassees. Closely associated with them here, were the
Palachoclas or Apalachicolos. About the year 1716, nearly all the
latter, together with a portion of the Uchees, removed to the south
under the guidance of Cherokee Leechee, their chief, and located on the
banks of the stream called by the English the Flint river, but which
subsequently received the name of Apalachicola.
The rest of the Uchees clung tenaciously to their ancestral seats in
spite of the threats and persuasion of the English, till after the
middle of the century, when a second and complete migration took place.
Instead of joining their kinsmen, however, they kept more to the east,
occupying sites first on the head-waters of the Altamaha, then on the
Santilla, (St. Tillis,) St. Marys, and St. Johns, where we hear of them
as early as 1786. At the cession to the United States, (1821,) they had
a village ten miles south of Volusia, near Spring Gardens. At this
period, though intermarrying with their neighbors, they still maintained
their identity, and when, at the close of the Seminole war in 1845, two
hundred and fifty Indians embarked at Tampa for New Orleans and the
West, it is said a number of them belonged to this tribe, and probably
constituted the last of the race.[246]
Both on the Apalachicola and Savannah rivers this tribe was remarkable
for its unusually agricultural and civilized habits, though of a tricky
and dishonest character. Bartram[247] gives the following description of
their town of Chata on the Chatauchee:--“It is the most compact and best
situated Indian town I ever saw; the habitations are large and neatly
built; the walls of the houses are constructed of a wooden frame, then
lathed and plastered inside and out, with a reddish, well-tempered clay
or mortar, which gives them the appearance of red brick walls, and these
houses are neatly covered or roofed with cypress bark or shingles of
that tree.” This, together with the Savanuca town on the Tallapoosa or
Oakfuske river, comprised the whole of the tribe at that time resident
in this vicinity.
Their language was called the Savanuca tongue, from the town of that
name. It was peculiar to themselves and radically different from the
Creek tongue or Lingo, by which they were surrounded; “It seems,” says
Bartram, “to be a more northern tongue;” by which he probably means it
sounded harsher to the ear. It was said to be a dialect of the
Shawanese, but a comparison of the vocabularies indicates no connection,
and it appears more probable that it stands quite alone in the
philology of that part of the continent.
While these movements were taking place from the north toward the south,
there were also others in a contrary direction. One of the principal of
these occurred while Francisco de la Guerra was Governor-General of
Florida, (1684-1690,) in consequence of an attempt made by Don Juan
Marquez to remove the natives to the West India islands and enslave
them. We have no certain knowledge how extensive it was, though it seems
to have left quite a number of missions deserted.[248]
What has excited more general attention is the tradition of the
Shawnees, (Shawanees, Sawannees, Shawanos,) that they originally came
from the Suwannee river in Florida, whose name has been said to be “a
corruption of Shawanese,” and that they were driven thence by the
Cherokees.[249] That such was the origin of the name is quite false, as
its present appellation is merely a corruption of the Spanish _San
Juan_, the river having been called the Little San Juan, in
contradistinction to the St. Johns, (el rio de San Juan,) on the eastern
coast.[250] Nor did they ever live in this region, but were scions of
the Savannah stem of the Creeks, accolents of the river of that name,
and consequently were kinsmen of the Yemassees.
§ 2.--THE SEMINOLES.
The Creek nation, so called says Adair from the number of streams that
intersected the lowlands they inhabited, more properly Muskogeh,
(corrupted into Muscows,) sometimes Western Indians, as they were
supposed to have come later than the Uchees,[251] and on the early maps
Cowetas (Couitias,) and Allibamons from their chief towns, was the last
of those waves of migration which poured across the Mississippi for
several centuries prior to Columbus. Their hunting grounds at one period
embraced a vast extent of country reaching from the Atlantic coast
almost to the Mississippi. After the settlement of the English among
them, they diminished very rapidly from various causes, principally wars
and the ravages of the smallpox, till about 1740 the whole number of
their warriors did not exceed fifteen hundred. The majority of these
belonged to that branch of the nation, called from its more southern
position the Lower Creeks, of mongrel origin, made up of the fragments
of numerous reduced and broken tribes, dwelling north and northwest of
the Floridian peninsula.[252]
When Governor Moore of South Carolina made his attack on St. Augustine,
he included in his complement a considerable band of this nation. After
he had been repulsed they kept possession of all the land north of the
St. Johns, and, uniting with certain negroes from the English and
Spanish colonies, formed the nucleus of the nation, subsequently called
_Ishti semoli_, wild men,[253] corrupted into Seminolies and Seminoles,
who subsequently possessed themselves of the whole peninsula and still
remain there. Others were introduced by the English in their subsequent
invasions, by Governor Moore, by Col. Palmer, and by General Oglethorpe.
As early as 1732, they had founded the town of Coweta on the Flint
river, and laid claim to all the country from there to St.
Augustine.[254] They soon began to make incursions independent of the
whites, as that led by Toonahowi in 1741, as that which in 1750, under
the guidance of Secoffee, forsook the banks of the Apalachicola, and
settled the fertile savannas of Alachua, and as the band that in 1808
followed Micco Hadjo to the vicinity of Tallahassie. They divided
themselves into seven independent bands, the Latchivue or Latchione,
inhabiting the level banks of the St. Johns, and the sand hills to the
west, near the ancient fort Poppa, (San Francisco de Pappa,) opposite
Picolati, the Oklevuaha, or Oklewaha on the river that bears their name,
the Chokechatti, the Pyaklekaha, the Talehouyana or Fatehennyaha, the
Topkelake, and a seventh, whose name I cannot find.
According to a writer in 1791,[255] they lived in a state of frightful
barbarity and indigence, and were “poor and miserable beyond
description.” When the mother was burdened with too many children, she
hesitated not to strangle the new-born infant, without remorse for her
cruelty or odium among her companions. This is the only instance that I
have ever met in the history of the American Indians where infanticide
was in vogue for these reasons, and it gives us a fearfully low idea of
the social and moral condition of those induced by indolence to resort
to it. Yet other and by far the majority of writers give us a very
different opinion, assure us that they built comfortable houses of logs,
made a good, well-baked article of pottery, raised plenteous crops of
corn, beans, pumpkins, sweet potatoes, tobacco, swamp and upland rice,
peas, melons and squashes, while in an emergency the potatoe-like roots
of the china brier or red coonta, the tap root of the white coonta,[256]
the not unpleasant cabbage of the palma royal and palmetto, and the
abundant game and fish, would keep at a distance all real want.[257]
As may readily be supposed from their vagrant and unsettled mode of
life, their religious ideas were very simple. Their notion of a God was
vague and ill-defined; they celebrated certain festivals at corn
planting and harvest; they had a superstition regarding the
transmigration of souls and for this purpose held the infant over the
face of the dying mother;[258] and from their great reluctance to
divulge their real names, it is probable they believed in a personal
guardian spirit, through fear of offending whom a like hesitation
prevailed among other Indian tribes, as well as among the ancient
Romans, and, strange to say, is in force to this day among the lower
class of Italians.[259] They usually interred the dead, and carefully
concealed the grave for fear it should be plundered and desecrated by
enemies, though at other times, as after a battle, they piled the slain
indiscriminately together, and heaped over them a mound of earth. One
instance is recorded[260] where a female slave of a deceased princess
was decapitated on her tomb to be her companion and servant on the
journey to the land of the dead.
A comparison of the Seminole with the Muskogeh vocabulary affords a most
instructive lesson to the philologist. With such rapidity did the former
undergo a vital change that as early as 1791 “it was hardly understood
by the Upper Creeks.”[261] The later changes are still more marked and
can be readily studied as we have quite a number of vocabularies
preserved by different writers.
Ever since the first settlement of these Indians in Florida they have
been engaged in a strife with the whites,[262] sometimes desultory and
partial, but usually bitter, general, and barbarous beyond precedent in
the bloody annals of border warfare. In the unanimous judgment of
unprejudiced writers, the whites have ever been in the wrong, have ever
enraged the Indians by wanton and unprovoked outrages, but they have
likewise ever been the superior and victorious party. The particulars of
these contests have formed the subjects of separate histories by able
writers, and consequently do not form a part of the present work.
Without attempting a more minute specification, it will be sufficient to
point out the swift and steady decrease of this and associated tribes by
a tabular arrangement of such censual statistics as appear most worthy
of trust.
CENSUAL STATISTICS OF THE LOWER CREEKS AND
SEMINOLES.
_Date._ _Number._ _Authority._ _Remarks._
1716 1000 Roberts[263] L. Creek war. on Flint river.
1734 1350 Anon.[264] Lower Creek warriors.
1740 1000 Anon.[265] “ “ “
1774 2000 Wm. Bartram[266] Lower Creeks.
1776 3500 Romans[267] Gun-men of U. and L. Creeks.
1820 1200 Morse[268] “Pure blooded Seminoles.”
1821 5000 J. H. Bell[269] All tribes in the State.
1822 3891 Gad Humphreys[270] Seminoles E. of Apalachicola
1823 4883 Pub. Docs.[271] All tribes in the State.
1836 1660 Sprague[272] Serviceable warriors.
1843 42 Sprague[273] Pure Seminole warriors.
1846 70 Sprague[274] “ “ “
1850 70 Sprague[275] “ “ “
1856 150 Pub. papers Mixed warriors.
1858 30 Pub. papers “ “
Probably within the present year (1859) the last of this nation, the
only free representatives of those many tribes east of the Mississippi
that two centuries since held undisturbed sway, will bid an eternal
farewell to their ancient abodes, and leave them to the quiet possession
of that race that seems destined to supplant them.
CHAPTER V.
THE SPANISH MISSIONS.
Early Attempts.--Efforts of Aviles.--Later Missions.--Extent during
the most flourishing period.--Decay.
It was ever the characteristic of the Spanish conqueror that first in
his thoughts and aims was the extension of the religion in which he was
born and bred. The complete history of the Romish Church in America
would embrace the whole conquest and settlement of those portions held
originally by France and Spain. The earliest and most energetic
explorers of the New and much of the Old World have been the pious
priests and lay brethren of this religion. While others sought gold they
labored for souls, and in all the perils and sufferings of long journeys
and tedious voyages cheerfully bore a part, well rewarded by one convert
or a single baptism. With the same zeal that distinguished them
everywhere else did they labor in the unfruitful vineyard of Florida,
and as the story of their endeavors is inseparably bound up with the
condition of the natives and progress of the Spanish arms, it is with
peculiar fitness that the noble toils of these self-denying men become
the theme of our investigation.
The earliest explorers, De Leon, Narvaez, and De Soto, took pains to
have with them devout priests as well as bold lancers, and remembered,
which cannot be said of all their cotemporaries, that though the
natives might possess gold, they were not devoid of souls. The latter
included in his complement no less than twelve priests, eight lay
brethren, and four clergymen of inferior rank; but their endeavors seem
to have achieved only a very paltry and transient success.
The first wholly missionary voyage to the coast of Florida, and indeed
to any part of America north of Mexico, was undertaken by Luis Cancel de
Balbastro, a Dominican friar, who in 1547 petitioned Charles I. of Spain
to fit out an armament for converting the heathen of that country. A
gracious ear was lent to his proposal, and two years afterwards, in the
spring of 1549, a vessel set sail from the port of Vera Cruz in Mexico,
commanded by the skillful pilot Juan de Arana, and bearing to their
pious duty Luis Cancel with three other equally zealous brethren, Juan
Garcia, Diego de Tolosa, and Gregorio Beteta. Their story is brief and
sad. Going by way of Havana they first struck the western coast of the
peninsula about 28° north latitude the day after Ascension day. After
two months wasted in fruitless efforts to conciliate the natives in
various parts, when all but Beteta had fallen martyrs to their devotion
to the cause of Christianity, the vessel put back from her bootless
voyage, and returned to Vera Cruz.[276]
Some years afterwards (1559), when Don Tristan de Luna y Arellano
founded the colony of Santa Maria de Felipina near where Pensacola was
subsequently built, he was accompanied by a provincial bishop and a
considerable corps of priests, but as his attempt was unsuccessful and
his colony soon disbanded, they could have made no impression on the
natives.[277]
It was not till the establishment of a permanent garrison at St.
Augustine by the Adelantado Pedro Menendez de Aviles, that the Catholic
religion took firm root in Floridian soil. In the terms of his outfit is
enumerated the enrollment of four Jesuit priests and twelve lay
brethren. Everywhere he displayed the utmost energy in the cause of
religion; wherever he placed a garrison, there was also a spiritual
father stationed. In 1567 he sent the two learned and zealous
missionaries Rogel and Villareal to the Caloosas, among whom a
settlement had already been formed under Francescso de Reinoso. At their
suggestion a seminary for the more complete instruction of youthful
converts was established at Havana, to which among others the son of the
head chief was sent, with what success we have previously seen.
The following year ten other missionaries arrived, one of whom, Jean
Babtista Segura, had been appointed Vice Provincial. The majority of
these worked with small profit in the southern provinces, but Padre
Antonio Sedeño settled in the island of Guale,[278] and is to be
remembered as the first who drew up a grammar and catechism of any
aboriginal tongue north of Mexico; but he reaped a sparse harvest from
his toil; for though five others labored with him, we hear of only seven
conversions, and four of these infants _in articulo mortis_. Yet it is
also stated that as early as 1566 the Adelantado himself had brought
about the conversion of these Indians _en masse_. A drought of eight
months had reduced them to the verge of starvation. By his advice a
large cross was erected and public prayer held. A tremendous storm
shortly set in, proving abundantly to the savages the truth of his
teachings. But they seem to have turned afresh to their wallowing in the
mire.
In 1569, the Padre Rogel gave up in despair the still more intractable
Caloosas; and among the more cultivated nations surrounding San Felipe,
north of the Savannah river, sought a happier field for his efforts. In
six months he had learned the language and at first flattered himself
much on their aptness for religious instruction. But in the fall, when
the acorns ripened, all his converts hastened to decamp, leaving the
good father alone in his church. And though he followed them untiringly
into woods and swamps, yet “with incredible wickedness they would learn
nothing, nor listen to his exhortations, but rather ridiculed them,
jeopardizing daily more and more their salvation.” With infinite pains
he collected some few into a village, gave them many gifts, and
furnished them food and mattocks; but again they most ungratefully
deserted him “with no other motive than their natural laziness and
fickleness.” Finding his best efforts thrown away on such stiff-necked
heathen, with a heavy heart he tore down his house and church, and,
shaking the dust off his feet, quitted the country entirely.
At this period the Spanish settlements consisted of three colonies: St.
Augustine, originally built south of where it now stands on St. Nicholas
creek, and changed in 1566, San Matteo at the mouth of the river of the
same name, now the St. Johns,[279] and fifty leagues north of this San
Felipe in the province of Orista or Santa Helena, now South Carolina. In
addition to these there were five block-houses, (casas fuertes), two,
Tocobaga and Carlos, on the western coast, one at its southern
extremity, Tegesta, one in the province of Ais or Santa Lucea, and a
fifth, which Juan Pardo had founded one hundred and fifty leagues inland
at the foot of certain lofty mountains, where a cacique Coava ruled the
large province Axacàn.[280] There seem also to have been several minor
settlements on the St. Johns.
Such was the flourishing condition of the country when that “terrible
heretic and runaway galley slave,” as the Spanish chronicler calls him,
Dominique de Gourgues of Mont Marsain, aided by Pierre le Breu, who had
escaped the massacre of the French in 1565, and the potent chief
Soturiba, demolished the most important posts (1567). Writers have
over-rated the injury this foray did the colony. In reality it served
but to stimulate the indomitable energy of Aviles. Though he himself was
at the court of Spain and obliged to remain there, with the greatest
promptness he dispatched Estevan de las Alas with two hundred and
seventy-three men, who rebuilt and equipped San Matheo, and with one
hundred and fifty of his force quartered himself in San Felipe.
With him had gone out quite a number of priests. The majority of these
set out for the province of Axacàn, under the guidance of the brother of
its chief, who had been taken by Aviles to Spain, and there baptized, in
honor of the viceroy of New Spain, Don Luis de Velasco. His conversion,
however, was only simulation, as no sooner did he see the company
entirely remote from assistance, than, with the aid of some other
natives, he butchered them all, except one boy, who escaped and returned
to San Felipe. Three years after (1569), the Adelantado made an attempt
to revenge this murder, but the perpetrators escaped him.
Notwithstanding these drawbacks, at the time of the death of Aviles, a
firm and extensive foundation had been laid for the Christian religion,
though it was by no means professed, as has been asserted, “by all the
tribes from Santa Helena, on the north, to Boca Rattones, on the south,
and from the Atlantic to the Gulf of Mexico.”[281]
After his death, under the rule of his nephew, Pedro Menendez Marquez, a
bold soldier but a poor politician, the colony seems to have dwindled to
a very insignificant point. Spanish historians speak vaguely of many
nations reduced by him, but such accounts cannot be trusted. At the time
of the destruction of St. Augustine by Drake, in 1586, this town was
built of wood, and garrisoned by one hundred and fifty men.[282] And if
we may believe the assertions of the prisoners he brought to England,
the whole number of souls, both at this place and at Santa Helena, did
not exceed two hundred.[283] Only six priests were in the colony; and as
to the disposition of the Indians, it was so hostile and dangerous, that
for some time subsequent the soldiers dared never leave the fort, even
to hunt or fish.[284] Yet it was just about this time (1584), that
Williams,[285] on the authority of his ancient manuscript, states that
“the Spanish authorities were acknowledged as far west as the river
Mississippi (Empalazada), and north one hundred and forty leagues to the
mountains of Georgia!”
As early as 1566, fourteen women had been introduced by Sancho de
Arminiega; but we read of no increase, and it is probable that for a
long series of years the colony was mainly supported by fresh arrivals.
It was not till 1592, when, in pursuance of an ordinance of the Council
of the Indies, twelve Franciscans were deputed to the territory, that
the missions took a new start. They were immediately forwarded to
various quarters of the province, and for a while seem to have been
quite successful in their labors. It is said that in 1594 there were “no
less than twenty mission houses.” One of these priests, Pedro de Corpa,
superior of the mission of Tolemato (Tolemaro) near the mouth of the St.
Marys river, by his unsparing and harsh rebukes, excited the anger of
the natives to such a degree that, headed by the chief of Guale, they
rose _en masse_, and murdered him at the foot of the altar. Nor did this
glut their vengeance. Bearing his dissevered head upon a pole as a
trophy and a standard, they crossed to the neighboring island of Guale,
and there laid waste the missions Topiqui, Asao, Ospo, and Assopo. The
governor of St. Augustine lost no time in hastening to the aid of the
sufferers; and, though the perpetrators of the deeds could nowhere be
found, by the destruction of their store-houses and grain fields,
succeeded by a long drought, “which God visited upon them for their
barbarity,” such a dreadful famine fell upon them that their tribe was
nearly annihilated (1600).
In 1602, Juan Altimirano, bishop of Cuba, visited this portion of his
diocess, and was much disheartened by the hopeless barbarity of the
natives. So much so, indeed, that years afterwards, when holding
discussion with the bishop of Guatemala concerning the query, “Is God
known by the light of Nature?” and the latter pressing him cogently with
Cicero, he retorted, “Ah, but Cicero had not visited Florida, or he
would never have spoken thus.”
This discouraging anecdote to the contrary, the very next year, in the
general assembly that met at Toledo, Florida, in conjunction with Havana
and Bahama, was constituted a Custodia of eleven convents, and in 1612,
they were elevated into an independent Provincia, under the name of
Santa Helena, with the head convent at Havana, and Juan Capillas
appointed first Provincial Bishop.[286] An addition of thirty-two
Franciscans, partly under Geronimo de Ore in 1612, and partly sent out
by Philip III., the year after, sped the work of conversion, and for a
long time subsequent, we find vague mention of nations baptized and
churches erected.
About the middle of the century, (1649,) the priests had increased to
fifty, and the episcopal revenue amounted to four hundred dollars. At
this time St. Augustine numbered “more than three hundred inhabitants.”
So great had been the success of the spiritual fathers, that in 1655,
Diego de Rebolledo, then Governor and Captain-General, petitioned the
king to erect the colony into a bishopric; a request which, though
favorably viewed, was lost through delay and procrastination. Similar
attempts, which were similarly frustrated, were made by his successors
Juan Marquez in 1682, and Juan Ferro in 1689.
Notwithstanding these indications of a lively energy, a very different
story is told by the traveller of Carthagena, François Coreal, who
visited the peninsula in 1669. He mentions no settlements but San
Augustine and San Matheo,--indeed, expressly states that there were
none,[287]--and even these were in a sorry plight enough, (assez
degarnies.) Either he must have been misinformed, or the work of
conversion proceeded with great and sudden rapidity after his visit, as
less than twenty years afterwards, (1687,) when by the attempts of Juan
Marquez to remove the natives to the West India Islands, many forsook
their homes for distant regions, they left a number of missions
deserted, as San Felipe, San Simon, Sapola, Obaldiqui, and others. This
marked increase was largely owing to a subsidy of twenty-four
Franciscans under Alonzo de Moral in 1676, and the energetic action of
the Bishop of Cuba, who spared no pains to facilitate the advent of
missionaries to all parts.[288]
In pursuance of the advice of Pablo de Hita, Governor-General, attempts
were renewed in 1679 to convert the nations of the southern extremity of
the peninsula, and in 1698, there were fourteen Franciscans employed
among them. These Indians are described as “idolaters and given to all
abominable vices,” and not a few of the missionaries suffered martyrdom
in their efforts to reclaim them.[289]
Towards the close of the century, (1696,) the condition of St. Augustine
is described by Jonathan Dickinson[290] as follows:--“It is about
three-quarters of a mile in length, not regularly built, the houses not
very thick, they having large orchards, in which are plenty of
_oranges_, _lemmons_, _pome-citrons_, _lymes_, _figgs_, and _peaches_:
the houses, most of them, are old buildings, and not half of them
inhabited. The number of men that belong to government being about three
hundred, and many of them are kept as sentinalls at their lookouts. At
the north end of the town stands a large fortification, being a
quadrangel with bastions. Each bastion will contain thirteen guns, but
there is not passing two-thirds of fifty-two mounted.... The wall of the
fortification is about thirty foot high, built of sandstone sawed
[coquina rock].... The fort is moated round.”
The colony of Pensacola or Santa Maria de Galve, founded by Andres de
Pes in 1693, gradually increasing in importance and maintaining an
overland connection with St. Augustine, naturally gave rise to
intermediate settlements, for which the fertile, wide-spread savannas of
Alachua, the rich hammocks along the Suwannee, and the productive
limestone soil of Middle Florida offered unrivalled advantages.
The tractable Apalaches and their neighbors received the missionaries
with much favor, and it is said that almost all the former were
converted;[291] a statement which we must confine, however, to that
small portion of the confederated tribes included under this title, that
lived in Middle Florida. When Colonel Moore invaded their country in
1703-4, he found them living in villages, each having its parish church,
subsisting principally by agriculture, and protected by a garrison of
Spanish soldiers.[292] The open well-cleared character of their country,
and the marks of their civilized condition were long recalled in
tradition by the later Indians.[293] So strong a hold did Catholicism
take upon them that more than a century subsequent, when the nation was
reduced to an insignificant family on the Bayou Rapide, they still
retained its forms, corrupted by admixture with their ancient
heliolatry.[294]
On the Atlantic coast, there were besides St. Augustine the towns of San
Matheo, Santa Cruce, San Juan, Santa Maria, and others. The Indians of
these missions Dickinson[295] describes as scrupulous in their
observance of the Catholic rites, industrious and prosperous in their
worldly relations, “having plenty of hogs and fowls, and large crops of
corn;” and each hamlet presided over by “Fryars,” who gave regular
instruction to the native children in school-houses built for the
purpose. All these were north of St. Augustine; to the south the savages
were more perverse, and in spite of the earnest labors of many pious
priests, some of whom fell martyrs to their zeal, they clung tenaciously
to heathendom.
Nothing definite is known regarding the settlements on and near the
Gulf, but in all probability they were more extensive than those on the
eastern shore, peopling the coast and inland plains with a race of
civilized and Christian Indians. Cotemporary geographers speak of “the
towns of Achalaque, Ossachile, Hirritiqua, Coluna, and some others of
less note,”[296] as founded and governed by Spaniards, while numerous
churches and villages are designated on ancient charts, with whose size
and history we are totally unacquainted. Many of these doubtless refer
to native hamlets, while the Spanish names affixed to others point to
settlements made by that nation. How much the Church of Rome had at
heart the extension and well-being of this portion of her domain, may be
judged from the fact that she herself bore half the expense of the
military kept in the province for its protection.[297]
Such was the condition of the Spanish missions of Florida at their most
flourishing period. Shortly after the commencement of the eighteenth
century, foes from the north destroyed and drove out the colonists,
demolishing in a few years all that the life, and the blood, and the
toil of so many martyrs during two centuries had availed to construct.
About the middle of the century we have a tolerably accurate knowledge
of the country through English writers; and then so few and
insignificant were the Spanish settlements, that only one occurred
between St. Marks and St. Augustine, while, besides the latter, the only
post on the Atlantic coast was a wretched “hut” on the south bank of the
St. Johns at its mouth.[298]
Undoubtedly it is to the close of the seventeenth century therefore that
we must refer those vestiges of an extensive and early inhabitation that
occasionally meet our notice in various parts. Sometimes in the depth of
forests of apparently primeval growth the traveller has been astonished
to find rusting church bells, half buried brass cannon, mouldering
walls, and the decaying ruins of once stately edifices. Especially
numerous are these in middle Florida, along the old Spanish highway from
St. Augustine to Pensacola, on the banks of the St. Johns, and on Amelia
island. The Indians informed the younger Bartram[299] that near the
Suwannee, a few miles above Manatee Spring, the Spaniards formerly had
“a rich, well cultivated, and populous settlement, and a strong
fortified post, as they likewise had at the savanna and field of
Capola,” east of the Suwannee, between it and the Alachua plains; but
that these were far inferior to those on the Apalachian Old Fields
“where yet remain vast works and buildings, fortifications, temples,
&c.” The elder Bartram[300] speaks of similar remarkable antiquities on
the St. Johns, Bernard Romans[301] in various parts of the interior,
Williams,[302] Brackenridge,[303] and others[304] in middle Florida, and
I may add the numerous Spanish Old Fields which I observed throughout
the peninsula, the extensive coquina quarries on Anastasia (St. Estaca,
Fish’s) Island, and the deserted plantations on Musquito and Indian
river Lagoons, as unequivocal proofs of a much denser population than is
usually supposed to have existed in those regions.
The easy conquest these settlements offered to the English and the
rapidity with which they melted away were partly owing to the
insufficient force kept for their protection. Colonel Daniels, who led
the land force of Governor Moore’s army in 1702, and took possession of
St. Augustine, apparently met with no noticeable opposition on his
march; while we have it on official authority that the year after there
were only three hundred and fifty-three soldiers in the whole province
of whom forty-five were in Apalache, seven in Timuqua, nineteen in
Guale, and the rest in St. Augustine.
The incursion of the English in 1702-1706, and of the Creeks (Alibamons)
in 1705, were very destructive to the monastic establishments of the
north, and though Juan de Ayala, minister of the interior, devoted
himself earnestly to restoring them, his labor was destined to yield
small profit. The destruction of Pensacola by Bienville in 1719, the
ravages of Colonel Palmer eight years later, the second demolition of
the settlements in Apalache, between Tallahassie and St. Marks, by a
marauding party of English and Indians in 1736, the inroad of Governor
Oglethorpe four years subsequent, and another incursion of the English
in 1745--these following in quick succession, it may be readily
conceived rendered of no avail the efforts of the Franciscans to
re-establish their missions on Floridian soil.
Previous to the cession to England the settlements had become reduced to
St. Josephs, Pensacola, and St. Marks on the Gulf, Picolati on the St.
Johns, and St. Augustine on the Atlantic. When the English took
possession, the latter town numbered nine hundred houses and five
thousand seven hundred inhabitants including a garrison of two thousand
five hundred men.[305] There was a well-built church here as also at
Pensacola, while at St. Marks there were two convents, one of Jesuits
the other of Franciscans.[306] At this time but very few of the Indians,
who are described as “bigotted idolators worshipping the sun and moon,”
and “noted for a bold, subtile, and deceitful people,”[307] seem to have
been in the fold of the Catholic Church.
Harassed and worn out as the colony was by long wars, and apparently
soon to die a natural death, it is not a matter of wonder that in the
tripartite Definitive Treaty of Peace signed at Versailles, February
10th, 1763, Spain was glad to relinquish her right to its soil in
consideration of the far superior island of Cuba.[308] Though it was
stipulated that all who desired to remain should enjoy their
property-rights, and religion, very few availed themselves of the
privilege, little loth to forsake a country that had been one continued
scene of war and tumult for more than half a century.
With this closes the history of the conversion of the Indians as during
the English regime they were lost sight of in other issues, and when the
Spanish returned to power such a scene of unquiet turmoil and ceaseless
wrangling awaited them as effectually to divert their attention from the
moral condition of the aboriginal tribes.
CHAPTER VI.
ANTIQUITIES.
Mounds.--Roads.--Shell Heaps.--Old Fields.
The descriptions left by the elder and younger Bartram of the magnitude
and character of the Floridian antiquities, had impressed me with a high
opinion of their perfection, and induced large expectations of the light
they might throw on the civilization of the aborigines of the peninsula;
but a personal examination has convinced me that they differ little from
those common in other parts of our country, and are capable of a similar
explanation. Chief among them are the mounds. These are not infrequent
upon the rich lowlands that border the rivers and lakes; and so
invariably did their builders choose this position, that during the long
journeys I made in the prairies and flat pine woods east of the St.
Johns as well as over the rolling and fertile country between this river
and the Gulf, as far south as Manatee, I never saw one otherwise
located. An enumeration and description of some of the most noteworthy
will suffice to indicate their character and origin.
On Amelia island, some half a mile east of Fernandina new town, there is
an open field, containing some thirty acres, in shape an isosceles
triangle, clothed with long grass and briary vines, bounded on all sides
by dense thickets of myrtle, live-oak, palmetto, yellow pine and cedar.
About midway of the base of this triangle, stands a mound thrown up on
the extremity of a natural ridge, which causes its height to vary from
twenty to five-and-thirty feet on the different sides. It is composed of
the common surface sand, obtained from the east side, close to the base,
where an excavation is visible. A few live-oaks and pines grow upon it,
the largest of which, at the time of my visit (1856), measured seventeen
inches in diameter. There is a fine view from the summit, embracing on
the west the vast marshes between Amelia island and the mainland, with a
part of St. Mary’s sound, across which, northward, lie the woody shores
of Cumberland island, projected in dark relief against the glittering
surf of the Atlantic, which stretches away in a brilliant white line to
the north-east, loosing itself in the broad expanse of ocean that bounds
the eastern horizon. Hence, one of its uses was, doubtless, as a
look-out or watch-tower; but from excavations, made by myself and
others, it proved, like every similar mound I examined, or heard of as
examined, in Florida, to be, in construction, a vast tomb. Human bones,
stone axes, darts, and household utensils, were disinterred in
abundance. Quantities of rudely marked fragments of pottery, and broken
oyster, clam, and conch shells, were strewed over the field. I was
informed of a second mound, smaller in size, somewhat south of
Fernandina light-house; but owing to the brevity of my stay, and the
incredible swarms of musquitoes that at that season infested the woods,
I did not visit it. I could learn nothing of the two large tumuli on
this island, known as the “Ogeechee Mounts,” mentioned by the younger
Bartram.[309]
On Fleming’s Island, at the mouth of Black Creek, identified by Sparks
with the “extremely beautiful, fertile, and thickly inhabited” Edelano
of the French colonists, and on Murphy’s Island, eight miles above
Pilatka, are found mounds of moderate size, and various other vestiges
of their ancient owners. But far more remarkable than these are the
large constructions on the shores and islands at the southern extremity
of Lake George, first visited and described as follows, by John
Bartram,[310] in 1766: “About noon we landed at Mount Royal, and went to
see an Indian tumulus, which was about one hundred yards in diameter,
nearly round, and twenty foot high. Found some bones scattered on it. It
must be very ancient, as live-oak are growing upon it three foot in
diameter; directly south from the tumulus is an avenue, all the surface
of which has been taken off and thrown on one side, which makes a bank
of about a rood wide and a foot high, more or less, as the unevenness of
the ground required, for the avenue is as level as a floor from bank to
bank, and continues so for three quarters of a mile, to a pond of water
about one hundred yards wide and one hundred and fifty long, north and
south,--seemed to be an oblong square, and its banks four foot
perpendicular, gradually sloping every way to the water, the depth of
which we do not say, but do not imagine it deep, as the grass grows all
over it; by its regularity it seems to be artificial; if so, perhaps the
sand was carried from thence to raise the tumulus.”
A description of this mound is also given by Wm. Bartram, who visited it
both with his father, and fifteen years later.[311] In summing up the
antiquities, he saw in Florida, this author says,[312] “from the river
St. Juans southerly to the point of the peninsula of Florida are to be
seen high pyramidal mounts with spacious and extensive avenues leading
from them out of the town to an artificial lake or pond of water. The
great mounts, highways, and artificial lakes up St. Juans on the east
shore, just at the entrance of the great Lake George; one on the
opposite shore, on the bank of the Little lake, another on Dunn’s
island, a little below Charlotteville, and one on the large beautiful
island just without the Capes of Lake George, in sight of Mount Royal,
and a spacious one on the West banks of Musquitoe river near New Smyrna,
are the most remarkable of this sort that occurred to me.”
The artificial lakes in this account are the excavations made in
obtaining material, since filled with water. The highways, which, in
another passage, the above quoted writer describes as “about fifty yards
wide, sunk a little below the common level, and the earth thrown up on
each side, making a bank of about two feet high,”[313] seem, from both
French and Spanish accounts to have been not unusual among the natives.
Laudonniére mentions one of great beauty that extended from the village
of Edelano to the river some three hundred paces in length,[314] and
another still more considerable at the head quarters of the powerful
chief Utina,[315] which must have been very near if not identical with
that at Mount Royal. La Vega, in his remarkable chapter on the
construction of the native villages,[316] speaks of such broad passages
leading from the public square at the base to the house of the chief on
the summit of the mound that the natives were accustomed to throw up for
its site. What we are to understand by the royal highways, _Caminos
Reales_, near Tampa Bay, that lead from one town to another, (que van de
un Pueblo al otro,)[317] an expression that would not be applicable to
mere trails, is not very evident.
Six miles by water above Lake Monroe, near the shore of a small lagoon
on the left bank of the river, stands an oval mound of surface soil
filled with human bones of so great an age, and so entirely decomposed,
that the instrument with which I was digging passed through them with as
much ease as through the circumjacent earth. Yet, among these ancient
skeletons, I discovered numerous small blue and large white glass beads,
undoubtedly inhumed at the formation of the tumulus. The bodies were all
of adults and no special order in their deposition seemed to have been
observed. Previous to my visit, I was informed that small earthenware
articles had been disinterred, some of which were simply pyramids of
triangular bases, whose use had much puzzled the finder. We know that
this form, sacred in the mythologies of the old world to the worship of
the productive power, had also a strong religious significance among the
Natchez, and many other aboriginal tribes,[318] and probably in
connection with the burial of the dead, it possessed among the
Floridians, as it did among the ancients and orientals,[319] a
symbolical connection with the immortality of the soul and the life
after death.
In the rich hammock half a mile below Lake Harney on the left bank of
the St. Johns, is a large oval mound, its transverse diameter at base
forty yards, and thirty feet in height. It is surrounded by a ditch
whence the soil of which it is constructed was taken. An extremely
luxuriant vegetation covers the whole hammock and the mound itself,
though few of the trees indicate a great age. On the same side of the
river twenty miles above the lake, is another similar mound. They are
abundant on the rich lands of Marion and Alachua counties, and in the
hammocks of the Suwannee, and are found at least as far south as
Charlotte’s Harbor and the Miami river. There is one on the government
reserve in Tampa, another at the head of Old Tampa Bay, and a third on
Long Key, Sarasota Bay. A portion of the latter has been washed away by
the waters of the gulf and vast numbers of skeletons exposed, some of
which I was assured by an intelligent gentleman of Manatee, who had
repeatedly visited the spot and examined the remains, were of
astonishing size and must have belonged to men seven or eight feet in
height. This statement is not so incredible as it may appear at first
sight. Various authors report instances of equally gigantic stature
among the aborigines of our country. The chiefs of the province of
Chicora, a portion of what is now South Carolina, were famous for their
height, which was supposed to prove their royal blood;[320] some
inhabitants of the province of Amichel on the Gulf of Mexico were not
less remarkable in this respect;[321] and Beverly found among certain
human bones religiously preserved in a temple of the Virginian Indians
an _os femoris_, measuring two feet nine inches in length;[322] while in
our own days, Schoolcraft saw a humerus at Fort Hill, New York,[323] and
Lanman, sundry bones in a cave in Virginia[324] that must have belonged
to men compared to whom ours is but a race of dwarfs.
On the opposite banks of Silver Spring run, respectively a quarter of a
mile and a mile and a half below the head, there are two tumuli.
Pottery, axes, and arrow-heads abound in the vicinity, and every sign
goes to show that this remarkable spot was once the site of a populous
aboriginal settlement.
What now are the characteristics of this class of Floridian mounds? In
summing up the whole available knowledge respecting them, we arrive at
the conclusion that to whatever purpose they may have subsequently been
applied, they were originally constructed as vast cemeteries. Mount
Royal tumulus is but a heap of bones covered with earth, and none have
as yet been opened but disclosed the same contents. They are very simple
in construction. I saw no well-defined terraces, no groups of mounds,
none with rectangular or octagonal bases, no ditches but those made in
excavating material, no covered ways, no stratification; in short, none
of those signs of a comparatively advanced art that distinguish the
earthworks of Ohio. Their age is not great. Some indeed are covered with
trees of large size, and in one case the annual rings were said to count
back to the year 1145,[325] (a statement, however, that needs
confirmation,) but the rapid growth of vegetation in that latitude
requires but a few years to produce a forest. The plantation of Lord
Rolles, deserted some fourscore years since, is now overgrown with pines
a foot in diameter, and I have seen old fields still bearing the marks
of cultivation covered with lofty forests, and a spot of cleared land,
forsaken for ten years, clothed with a thriving growth of palmetto and
oak. Moreover, savage and civilized, all men agree in leaving nature to
adorn the resting places of the dead, and hence it is an egregious error
to date the passing away of a nation from the oldest tree we find on its
graves. Rather, when we recollect that from the St. Lawrence to the
Pampas, many tribes did religious homage to certain trees, and when we
remember how universal a symbol they are of birth and resurrection,
should we be surprised were they not cultivated and fostered on the
sepulchres of the departed.[326]
We need no fanciful hypotheses to explain the reason and designate the
time of these constructions. The bare recountal of the burial rites that
prevailed among the aborigines is all sufficient to solve the riddle of
bone-mounds both as they occur in Florida and all other States. The
great feature of these rites was to preserve the bones of the dead, a
custom full of significance in nature-worship everywhere. For this
purpose the corpses were either exposed or buried till sufficient
decomposition had ensued to permit the flesh to be easily removed. The
bones were then scraped clean, and either carried to private dwellings,
or deposited in public charnel-houses; such were the “Templos que
servian de Entierros y no de Casas de Oracion,” seen by De Soto at Tampa
Bay,[327] and the “Osarios,” bone-houses, in Cofachiqui, among the
Cherokees.[328] Finally, at stated periods, they were collected from all
quarters, deposited in some predetermined spot, and there covered with
soil heaped into the shape of a cone. Annual additions to the same
cemetery gave rise to the extraordinary dimensions that some attained;
or several interments were made near the same spot, and hence the groups
often seen.[329]
As the Natchez, Taencas, and other southern tribes were accustomed to
place the council-house and chief’s dwelling on artificial elevations,
both to give them an air of superior dignity, to render them easy of
defence, and in some localities to protect from inundations,[330] so
the natives of Florida, in pursuance of the same custom, either erected
such tumuli for this purpose, or more probably, only took advantage of
those burial mounds that the vicissitudes of war had thrown in their
hands, or a long period of time deprived of sacred associations. In the
town of Ucita, where De Soto landed, “The Lordes house stoode neere the
shore upon a very hie mounte made by hande for strength,”[331] and La
Vega gives in detail their construction.
While this examination of their sepulchral rites, taken in connection
with the discovery of glass beads _in situ_, leaves no doubt but that
such remains were the work of the people who inhabited the peninsula at
its discovery by Europeans, it is not probable that the custom was
retained much after this period. The Lower Creeks and Seminoles, so far
from treating their dead thus, took pains to conceal the graves, and
never erected mounds save in one emergency. This was in the event of a
victorious battle, when they collected the dead into one vast pile, and
covered them with earth,[332] simply because it was the most convenient
way to pay those last and mournful duties that humanity demands at our
hands.
Another class of burial mounds, tallying very nearly with those said by
the French to have been raised over their dead by the early Indians of
the St. Johns, are not unusual in the hammocks along this river. They
are only a few feet in height, resembling in appearance the hillocks of
humus left by the roots of uprooted trees, from which they can be
distinguished by their general range, (N., S.,) by the hollows on each
side whence the earth was obtained, and by their construction. They are
sometimes distinctly stratified, presenting layers of sand, ashes and
charcoal, and clay. Bones, arrow-heads, axes, and pottery are found in
them, but as far as my own observations extended, and those of a
Norwegian settler bearing the classic name of Ivon Ericson, who assured
me he had examined them frequently on the Upper St. Johns, in no case
were beads or other articles indicating a familiarity with European
productions discovered.
The utensils, the implements of war and the chase exhumed from the
mounds, and found in their vicinity, do not differ from those in general
use among the Indians of all parts at their first discovery,[333] and go
to corroborate the opinion that all these earthworks--and I am inclined
to assert the same of the whole of those in the other Atlantic States,
and the majority in the Mississippi valley--were the production, not of
some mythical tribe of high civilization in remote antiquity, but of the
identical nations found by the whites residing in these regions.
An equally interesting and more generally distributed class of
antiquities are the beds and heaps of shells. These are found with more
or less frequency on the shores of every State from Connecticut
southward along the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico. Some of them are of
enormous extent, covering acres of ground, and of a singular height. For
a long time it was a debateable point whether they belonged to the
domain of the geologist or antiquarian; later researches have awarded
them to both, by distinguishing between those of natural and artificial
origin.[334] The latter are recognized by the presence of darts,
pottery, charcoal, &c., in _original connection_ with the shells and
debris throughout the mass, by the presence of surface soil, roots, and
stumps, _in situ_ beneath the heap, by nearness to an open fishing
shore, and finally by the valves of the shell fish being asunder and
their edges factured or burnt; on the other hand, whole closed shells as
at Easton in Maryland, fragments of older fossils in original
connection, distinct stratification,[335] and remoteness from any known
oyster bed, as those of northern Texas, northern Georgia, and perhaps of
Cumberland county, New Jersey, are convincing proofs of their natural
deposition.
Examples in Florida are numerous and striking. At Fernandina new town on
Amelia island, a layer extends along the face of the bluff for one
hundred and fifty yards and inland a quarter of a mile, sometimes three
feet in depth, composed almost wholly of shells of the esculent oyster
though with clams and conches sparsely intermixed. The valves are all
separate, the shells in some places rotten, fractured and mixed with
sand, charcoal, and pottery, while in others as clean and sound as if
just from the hands of the oysterman.
Similar deposits are found in various parts of the island; on the main
land opposite; on both sides of the entrance to the St. Johns; on
Anastasia island; and every where along the coast both of the Atlantic
and the Gulf. One of the most remarkable is Turtle Mound on Musquito
Lagoon, near New Smyrna. “It is thirty feet high, composed almost
altogether of separate oyster shells, it being rare to find an entire
one; there are also some conch and clam shells, both of which are,
however, exceedingly scarce. That it is artificial there is no doubt on
my mind. Some eight or ten years since we experienced a gale in this
section of the country, from the northwest, which caused that portion of
the mound facing the river, the steepest part, to wash and fall
considerably; being there a few days afterwards, I took considerable
pains to examine the face of it, and found as low as the bottom and as
high up as I could observe, numberless pieces of Indian pottery, and
quantities of bones principally of fish, but no human ones; also
charcoal and beds of ashes. The one on which I reside, opposite New
Smyrna, is precisely of the same formation. Having had occasion some
time back to dig a hole six or eight feet deep, I found precisely the
same contents that I have described at Turtle Mound, with the addition
of some few flint arrowheads.”
For this interesting description from the pen of a gentleman of the
vicinity I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. F. L. Dancy, State
Geologist of Florida; he adds from his own observation an account of one
on Chrystal river, on the Gulf coast, four miles from its mouth. “The
marsh of the river at that point is some twenty yards wide to the firm
land, at which point this mound commences to rise; it is on all sides
nearly perpendicular, the faces covered with brush and trees to which
the curious have to cling to effect an ascent. It is about forty feet in
height, the top surface nearly level, about thirty feet across, and
covered with magnolia, live-oak, and other forest trees, some of them
four feet in diameter. Its form is that of a truncated cone, and as far
as can be judged from external appearance, it is composed exclusively of
oyster shells and vegetable mould. These shells are all separated. The
mound was evidently thrown up by the Indians for a lookout, as the Gulf
can be distinctly seen from its summit. There are no oysters growing at
this time within four or five miles of it.”
Other shell heaps are met with along the coast but none equalling in
magnitude that seen by Sir Charles Lyell[336] on Cannon’s Island at the
mouth of the Altamaha, covering ten acres of ground, “elevated in some
places ten feet and on an average five feet above the general level,”
and which this eminent geologist attributes exclusively to the Indians,
or the vast beds of _Gnathodon Cuneatus_, on Mobile Bay, described by
Mr. Hale,[337] which, however, are probably of natural formation, though
containing quantities of human bones, pottery, images, &c.
It is strange that we find no notices of the formation of these heaps by
the early travellers; I do not remember to have met with any except a
line in Cabeza de Vaca, where, speaking of a tribe on the Gulf, he says
their houses were “built of mats on heaps of oyster shells.”[338]
Along Manatee river I noticed numerous small heaps of conches,
attributable to the later Indians, and in the post-pliocene shellbluffs
at the mouth of this river, nearly twenty feet in height composed
largely of a species of _Pyrula_,[339] I found numerous fragments of a
coarse, ill-marked, pottery, not, however, where the shells were
unbroken and clean, but where they were fragmentary, mixed with
charcoal, ashes and dirt, and never more than three feet below the
surface. The singular hillocks, whose formation is a geological enigma
not readily solved, so frequent along the St. Johns, vast aggregations
of Helices with some Unios and other fresh water shells in connection,
without admixture of earth, in some cases thirty feet high, and
irregularly stratified, are not to be mistaken for those of artificial
construction, though from the frequency of Indian relics found in them,
they seem to have been a chosen place of burial for the aboriginal
tribes.
Among the relics dating from a later period are the “Indian Old Fields.”
These are portions of land once cleared and cultivated by the Seminoles,
and are found wherever the fertility of the soil promised favorably for
agriculture. They are very abundant in Alachua, where, says
Bartram,[340] “almost every step discovers traces of ancient human
habitation,” reminding us of the time “when the Indians could assemble
by thousands at ball play and other juvenile diversions and athletic
exercises on these then happy fields and green plains.” Such is the
tenacity of the soil for retaining impressions, that the marks of
tillage by which these are distinguished from the Spanish old fields are
easily seen and readily discriminated, even after they are covered by a
dense growth of trees.
APPENDIX I.
THE SILVER SPRING.
The geological formation of Florida gives rise to springs and fountains
of such magnitude and beauty, that they deserve to be ranked with the
great freshwater lakes, the falls of Niagara, and the Mississippi river,
as grand hydrographical features of the North American continent. The
most remarkable are the Wakulla, twelve miles from Tallahassie, of great
depth and an icy coldness, which is the best known, and has been
described by the competent pen of Castlenau and others, the Silver
Spring and the Manatee Spring. The latter is on the left bank of the
Suwannee, forty-five miles from its mouth, and is so named from having
been a favorite haunt of the sea-cow, (_Trichechus Manatus_,) whose
bones, discolored by the sulphuret of iron held in solution by the
water, are still found there.
The Silver Spring, in some respects the most remarkable of the three, is
in the centre of Marion county, ten miles from the Ocklewaha, into which
its stream flows, and six miles from Ocala, the county seat. In
December, 1856, I had an opportunity to examine it with the aid of
proper instruments, which I did with much care. It has often been
visited as a natural curiosity, and is considered by tourists one of the
lions of the State. To be appreciated in its full beauty, it should be
approached from the Ocklewaha. For more than a week I had been tediously
ascending this river in a pole-barge, wearied with the monotony of the
dank and gloomy forests that everywhere shade its inky stream,[341] when
one bright morning a sharp turn brought us into the pellucid waters of
the Silver Spring Run. A few vigorous strokes and we had left behind us
the cypress swamps and emerged into broad, level savannas, that
stretched miles away on either hand to the far-off pine woods that, like
a frame, shut in the scene. In the summer season these prairies, clothed
in the luxuriance of a tropical vegetation, gorgeously decked with
innumerable flowers, and alive with countless birds and insects of
brilliant hues, offer a spectacle that once seen can never be forgotten.
But far more strangely beautiful than the scenery around is that
beneath--the subaqueous landscape. At times the bottom is clothed in
dark-green sedge waving its long tresses to and fro in the current, now
we pass over a sunken log draperied in delicate aquatic moss thick as
ivy, again the scene changes and a bottom of greyish sand throws in
bright relief concentric arcs of brilliantly white fragments of shells
deposited on the lower side of ripple marks in a circular basin. Far
below us, though apparently close at hand, enormous trout dash upon
their prey or patiently lie in wait undisturbed by the splash of the
poles and the shouts of the negroes, huge cat-fish rest sluggishly on
the mud, and here and there, every protuberance and bony ridge
distinctly visible, the dark form of an alligator is distended on the
bottom or slowly paddles up the stream. Thus for ten miles of an almost
straight course, east and west, is the voyager continually surprised
with fresh beauties and unimagined novelties.
The width of the stream varies from sixty to one hundred and twenty-five
feet, its average greatest depth about twenty, the current always quite
rapid. For about one mile below its head, forests of cypress, maple,
ash, gum, and palmetto adorn the banks with a pleasing variety of
foliage. The basin itself is somewhat elliptical in form, the exit being
at the middle of one side; its transverse diameter measures about one
hundred and fifty yards, (N. E., S. W.,) its conjugate one hundred
yards. Easterly it is bordered by a cypress swamp, while the opposite
bank is hidden by a dense, wet hammock. A few yards from the brink
opposite the exit runs a limestone ridge of moderate elevation covered
with pine and jack-oak.
The principal entrance of the water is at the northeastern extremity.
Here a subaqueous limestone bluff presents three craggy ledges, between
the undermost of which and the base is an orifice, about fifteen feet in
length by five in height, whence the water gushes with great violence.
Another and smaller entrance is at the opposite extremity. The maximum
depth was at the time of my visit forty-one feet. The water is
tasteless, presents no signs of mineral matter in solution, and so
perfectly diaphanous that the smallest shell is entirely visible on the
bottom of the deepest portion. Slowly drifting in a canoe over the
precipice I could not restrain an involuntary start of terror, so
difficult was it, from the transparency of the supporting medium for the
mind to appreciate its existence. When the sunbeams fall full upon the
water, by a familiar optical delusion, it seems to a spectator on the
bank that the bottom and sides of the basin are elevated, and over the
whole, over the frowning crags, the snow-white shells, the long sedge,
and the moving aquatic tribes, the decomposed light flings its rainbow
hues, and all things float in a sea of colors, magnificent and
impressive beyond description. What wonder that the untaught children of
nature spread the fame of this marvellous fountain to far distant
climes, and under the stereoscopic power of time and distance came to
regard it as the life-giving stream, whose magic waters washed away the
calamities of age and the pains of disease, round whose fortunate shores
youths and maidens ever sported, eternally young and eternally joyous!
During my stay I took great pains to ascertain the exact temperature of
the water and from a number of observations made at various hours of the
day obtained a constant result of 73.2°, Fahrenheit. This is higher than
the mean annual temperature of the locality, which, as determined by a
thermometrical record kept at Fort King near Ocala for six years, is
70.00°; while it is lower than that of the small mineral springs so
abundant throughout the peninsula, which I rarely found less than 75°.
It is probable, however, that this is not a fixed temperature but varies
with the amount of water thrown out. Competent observers, resident on
the spot, informed me that a variation of three feet in the vertical
depth of the basin had been known to occur in one year, though this was
far greater than usual. The time of highest water is shortly after the
rainy season, about the month of September, a fact that indicates the
cause of the change.
Visiting the spring when at a medium height I enjoyed peculiar
advantages for calculating the amount of water given forth. The method I
used was the convenient and sufficiently accurate one of the log and
line, the former of three inches radius, the latter one hundred and two
feet in length. In estimating the size of the bed I chose a point about
a quarter of a mile from the basin. The results were calculated
according to the formulæ of Buat. After making all possible allowance
for friction, for imperfection of instruments, and inaccuracy of
observation, the average daily quantity of water thrown out by this
single spring reaches the enormous amount of more than three hundred
million gallons!
Numbers such as this are beyond the grasp of the human intellect,
bewildering rather than enlightening the mind. Let us take another unit
and compare it with the most stupendous hydrographical works of man that
have been the wonders of the world. Most renowned of these are the
aqueducts of Rome. In the latter half of the first century, when
Frontinus was inspector, the public register indicated a daily supply of
fourteen thousand and eighteen quinaria, about one hundred and
ninety-six million gallons. Or we can choose modern instances. The city
of London is said to require forty million gallons every twenty-four
hours, New York about one-third, and Philadelphia one-quarter as much.
Thus we see that this one fount furnishes more than enough water to have
satisfied the wants of Rome in her most imperial days, to supply
plenteously eight cities as large as London, a score of New Yorks, or
thirty Philadelphias. By the side of its stream the far-famed aqueduct
of Lyons, yielding one million two hundred and nine thousand six hundred
gallons daily, or the Croton aqueduct, whose maximum diurnal capacity is
sixty million gallons, seems of feeble importance, while the stateliest
canals of Solomon, Theodoric, or the Ptolemies dwindle to insignificant
rivulets.
Neither is this the emergence of a sunken river as is the case with the
Wakulla fountain, but is a spring in the strictest sense of the word,
deriving its sustenance from the rains that percolate the porous
tertiary limestone that forms the central ridge of the peninsula.
There are many other springs both saline, mineral, and of pure water,
which would be looked upon as wonders in any country where such wonders
were less abundant. Such are the Six Mile Spring (White Spring, Silver
Spring), and the Salt Spring on the western shore of Lake George, a
sulphur spring on Lake Monroe, one mile from Enterprise, another eight
miles from Tampa on the Hillsboro’ river, Gadsden’s spring in Columbia
county, the Blue spring on the Ocklawaha, Orange Springs in Alachua
county, the Oakhumke the source of the Withlacooche, and numberless
others of less note.[342] Besides these, the other hydrographical
features of the peninsula are unique and instructive, well deserving a
thorough and special examination; such are the intermittent lakes,
which, like the famous Lake Kauten in Prussia, the Lugea Palus or
Zirchnitzer See in the duchy of Carniola, and the classical Lake
Fucinus, have their regular periods of annual ebb and flow; while the
sinking rivers Santa Fe, Chipola, Econfinna, Ocilla and others offer no
less interesting objects of study than their analogues in the secondary
limestone of Styria, in Istria, Carniola, Cuba, and other regions.
When we ponder on the cause of these phenomena we are led to the most
extraordinary conclusions. To explain them we are obliged to accept the
opinion--which very many associated facts tend to substantiate--that the
lower strata of the limestone formation of the peninsula have been
hollowed out by the action of water into vast subterranean reservoirs,
into enormous caverns that intersect and ramify, extending in some cases
far under the bed of the adjacent ocean, through whose sunless corridors
roll nameless rivers, and in whose sombre halls sleep black lakes.
During the rainy season, gathering power in silence deep in the bowels
of the earth, they either expend it quietly in fountains of surprising
magnitude, or else, bursting forth in violent eruptions, rend asunder
the overlying strata, forming the “lime sinks,” and “bottomless lakes,”
common in many counties of Florida; or should this occur beneath the
ocean, causing the phenomenon of “freshening,” sometimes to such an
extent as to afford drinkable water miles from land, as occurred some
years ago off Anastasia Island, and in January, 1857, near Key West.
APPENDIX II.
THE MUMMIES OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY.
A number of years ago considerable curiosity was excited by the
discovery of mummies in Tennessee and Kentucky, and many theories were
promulged regarding their origin, but I believe neither that nor their
age has, as yet, been satisfactorily determined.
Some were found as early as 1775, near Lexington, Kentucky, but we have
no definite account of any before those exhumed September 2, 1810, in a
copperas cave in Warren county, Tennessee, on the Cany fork of the
Cumberland river, ten miles below the Falls. These were described in the
Medical Repository by Mr. Miller, whose article was followed by another
in the same periodical, illustrated by a sketch, in support of the view
that this discovery indicated the derivation of the Indians from the
Malays and Tartars. The same pair was also described by Breckenridge and
Flint a few years later.
Shortly previous to 1813, two mummies were found in the Gothic avenue of
the Mammoth Cave, and not long afterwards, (1814,) another in the
Audabon avenue.
The same year, several more were discovered in a nitre cave near
Glasgow, Kentucky, by Thomas Monroe, who forwarded one to the American
Antiquarian Society, described by Dr. Mitchell in the first volume of
the publications of that body.
Again, in 1828, two more were found in a complete state of preservation
in a cave of West Tennessee, mentioned in the American Journal of
Science, (Vol. xxii. p. 124.)
With that zest for the wonderful, for which antiquarians are somewhat
famous, the idea that these remains could belong to tribes with whom the
first settlers were acquainted, was rejected, and recourse was had to
Malays, South Sea Islanders, and the antipodes generally, for a more
_reasonable_ explanation. It was said that the envelopes of the bodies
(all of which bore close resemblance among themselves) pointed to a
higher state of the arts than existed among the Indians of the
Mississippi Valley, and that the physical differences, the color of the
hair, &c., were irreconcileable. I think, however, it may be shown that
these objections are of no weight, and that the bodies in question were
interred at a comparatively late period.
The wrappings consisted usually of deer skins, dressed and undressed,
mats of split canes, some as much as sixty yards long, and a woven stuff
called “blankets,” “sheets,” and “cloth;” this was often either bordered
with feathers of the wild turkey and other birds, or covered with them
in squares and patterns. Their ages, as guessed from appearances, varied
from ten years to advanced life. In several cases the mark of a severe
blow on the head was seen, which must have caused the individual’s
death. Their stature was usually in conformity to their supposed
age;[343] the weight of one, as given by Flint, six or eight pounds; in
all cases but one the hair of a “sorrel,” “foxy,” “yellow” or “sandy”
color; and they were usually found five or six feet below the surface.
First, then, in our examination, the question arises, did the Indians of
the Mississippi Valley, when first met by the whites, possess the art of
manufacturing woven stuff of the kind mentioned? In answer we have the
express words of the Inca,[344] “These mantles the Indians of Florida
make of a certain herb-like mallows, (malvas,) which has fibres like
flax, (que tiene hebra, como lino,) and from the same they make thread,
to which they give colors which remain most firmly.” The next explorer
was La Salle; in Tonty’s account of his expedition,[345] he remarks that
he saw in a council lodge of the Taencas, “sixty old men clothed in
large white cloaks, which are made by the women from the bark of the
mulberry tree.” Still more to our purpose are the words of later
writers, who mention the interweaving of feathers. Not only, says
Dumont,[346] do the Indian women make garters and ribbons of the wool of
the buffalo, (du laine du beuf,) but also a sort of mat of threads
obtained from the bark of the linden, (tilleul,) “qu’elles couvrent de
plumes de cigne des plus fines, attachèes une à une sur cet toil.”
Dupratz[347] mentions similar cloaks of mulberry bark covered “with the
feathers of swans, turkeys, and India ducks,” the fibres of the bark
being twisted “about the thickness of packthread,” and woven “with a
wrought border around the edges.” Of the Indians of North Carolina,
Lawson says,[348] “Their feather match-coats are very pretty, especially
some of them which are made extraordinary charming, containing several
pretty figures, wrought in feathers, making them seem like a fine flower
Silk-Shag.” Other examples might be given, but these are sufficient.
The cane mat was an article of daily use among the tribes wherever the
cane grew, and was bartered to those where it did not. The Arkanzas,
Taencas, Cenis, Natchez, and Gulf tribes, used it to cover their
huts;[349] hence a piece even sixty yards long was no uncommon matter;
while in one instance at least,[350] we know that the eastern tribes
rolled their dead in them, tying them fast at both ends. All the minor
articles of ornament and dress, the bone and horn needles, the vegetable
beads, &c., can be shown with equal facility to have been in general use
among the natives.[351]
It has usually been supposed that these bodies were preserved by the
chemical action of the nitriferous soil around them; but this does not
account for their perfection and extreme desiccation, inclosed as they
were in such voluminous envelopes. Yet it is quite certain that the
viscera were never absent, nor has any balm or gum been found upon
them.[352] Hence, if artificially prepared, it must have been by
protracted drying by fire, in a manner common among the ancient
inhabitants of the Caroline islands, the Tahitians, the Guanches of
Teneriffe, and still retained in some convents in the Levant. It is well
known that in America the Popayans, the Nicaraguans, and the Caribs of
the West Indies had this custom;[353] but I believe that attention has
not been called to the fact, that this very mode of preserving the dead
was used more or less by the Indians of the Mississippi Valley. The
southern tribes of Mississippi and Alabama dried the corpse of their
chief over a slow fire, placed it in the temple as an object of
adoration till the death of his successor, and then transferred it to
the bottom or cellar (fond) of the building.[354] Analogous usages,
modifications of this and probably derived from it, prevailed among the
tribes of North Carolina, Virginia, and the Pacific coast,[355] while we
have seen that Bristock asserts the same of the Apalachites. That a cave
should be substituted for a temple, or that the bodies should be
ultimately inhumed, cannot excite our surprise when we recall how
subject the Indians were to sudden attacks, how solicitous that their
dead should not be disturbed,[356] and how caves were ever regarded by
them as natural temples for their gods and most fit resting places for
their dead.[357]
The rarity of the mummies may be easily accounted for as only the bodies
of the chiefs were thus preserved. Yet it is a significant fact that a
body is rarely, if ever, found alone. Moreover, in every case of which
we have special description, these are of different sexes, and one, the
female, and the youngest, sometimes apparently not more than twelve or
fourteen years of age, evidently died by violence. How readily these
seemingly unconnected facts take place and order, and how intelligible
they become, when we learn that at the death of a ruler the Indians
sacrificed and buried with him one or two of his wives, and in some
tribes the youngest was always the chosen victim of this cruel
superstition.[358]
The light color of the hair is doubtless caused by the nitriferous soil
with which it had been so long surrounded; a supposition certified by
one instance, where, in consequence of the unusually voluminous
wrappings, and perhaps a later interment, it retained the black color of
that of the true Indian.[359]
Though most of these references relate to nations not dwelling
immediately in the area of country where the mummies are found, it is
quite unnecessary for me to refer in this connection to those numerous
and valid arguments, derived both from tradition and archæology, that
prove beyond doubt that this tract, and indeed the whole Ohio valley,
had changed masters shortly before the whites explored it, and that its
former possessors when not destroyed by the invaders, had been driven
south.
Hence we may reasonably infer, that as no article found upon the mummies
indicates a higher degree of art than was possessed by the southern
Indians, as the physical changes are owing to casual _post mortem_
circumstances, as we have positive authority that certain tribes were
accustomed to preserve the corpses of their chiefs; and lastly, as we
have many evidences to show that such tribes, or those closely
associated with them, once dwelt further north than they were first
found, consequently the deposition of the mummies must be ascribed to a
race who dwelt near the region where they occur, at the time of its
exploration by Europeans.
APPENDIX III.
THE PRECIOUS METALS POSSESSED BY THE EARLY FLORIDIAN INDIANS.
The main idea that inspired the Spanish expeditions to Florida was the
hope of discovering riches there, equal to the gorgeous opulence of Peru
and Mexico. Although the country was supposed to be north of the
auriferous zone--in accordance with which geological notion in his map
of the world (1529) Diego de Ribero inscribes on the land marked “Tierra
de Garay,” north of the Gulf of Mexico, now West Florida, “This land is
poor in gold, as it lies too far from the tropic of Cancer”[360]--yet an
abiding faith in its riches was kept alive by Spanish traders obtaining
from time to time morsels of gold from the natives. As early as the
first voyage of De Leon (1512), they possessed and used it as an article
of barter in small quantities.[361] The later explorers, Narvaez, De
Soto, Ribaut, and Laudonniére, report both gold and silver, but never,
as far as their own observations went, in any abundance. The savages
were always eagerly questioned as to its origin and always returned one
of two answers; either that they had pilfered it from the wrecks of
vessels driven on their coasts, or else they referred the inquirer to a
distant and mountainous country to the north, known both to the nations
on the Gulf of Mexico, those at the extreme south of the peninsula, and
those on the Atlantic coast as far north as the Savannah river, as
Apalache. Here, said the rumors, the men wore cuirasses of gold and
shields of burnished silver, while the women were impeded in their
dancing by the weight of their golden ornaments and strings of pearls.
We have seen that this name was at one period applied to a large area of
country, and hence have no difficulty in appreciating the error that
Narvaez committed when he supposed the small town of that name east of
the Apalachicola to contain the major part of the nation. Fontanedo,
whose long residence among the Indians renders him one of our best
authorities on certain points, says expressly that the snowy mountains
of Onagatano whence the gold was obtained were the _furthermost
possessions of Apalache_.[362]
There is a general similarity in the accounts of the direction and
remoteness of the mines. The coast tribes north of the St. Johns river
had pieces of _sieroa pira_, red metal, which was tested by a goldsmith
who accompanied Laudonniére and found to be pure gold. When asked where
this was obtained they pointed to the north. Another chief who gave them
slips of silver said it came from a country at the foot of lofty
mountains ten long days’ journey inland, towards the north. A third had
small grains of gold, silver, and copper, procured, according to his own
account, by washing the sands of a creek that flowed at the base of
lofty mountains five or six days journey in a northwesterly direction.
The artist Le Moyne de Morgues, drawing somewhat on his imagination,
represents in his forty-first sketch this method of cleaning it. Hence
on some maps of a very early period the southern Alleghanies bear the
name _Apalatcy Montes Auriferi_. Years afterwards, rumors derived from
the Indians were rife among the Spanish colonists of a “very rich and
exceeding great city, called La Grand Copal, among the mountains of Gold
and Chrystal,” fifteen or twenty days journey northwest of St.
Augustine.[363]
Now as the gold mines of Georgia and Carolina lie about three hundred
miles north or northwest of Florida, such accounts as these can leave no
reasonable doubt but that they were known to the Indians, and to a
certain extent worked before the arrival of the white man. Indeed, may
we not impute to them the ancient and unrecorded mining operations,
signs of which are occasionally met with in the gold country of Georgia?
Such are the remains of what are called “furnaces,” the marks of
excavations, various rude metallurgical instruments, the buried log
houses, and other tokens of a large population in some remote past,
found from time to time in the vicinity of Dahlonega and various parts
of the Nacooche valley.[364] These were referred by the finders to De
Soto, who offers a favorite and ready explanation for any construction
of unknown age, in that part of our country; thus I have been told that
the bone mounds in Florida were the burial places of his soldiers, and
on one occasion a post pliocene bank of shells on Tampa Bay was pointed
out to me as the ruins of one of his forts. It is unnecessary to add
that the soldiers under this ill-fated leader spent no time in digging
gold either in north Georgia or anywhere else.
That in the course of barter small quantities of the metals here
obtained--for we must ascribe to shipwrecks the “lumps of gold several
pounds in weight” said to have been found in modern times on the shores
of Florida and Carolina[365]--should have gradually proceeded to the
nations on the shores of the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico, and even
to the Caloosas in South Florida, four hundred miles from their starting
point, will not astonish any one acquainted with the extent to which the
transportation of metals was carried by the aborigines in other portions
of the continent.
END.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Sommation à faire aux Habitants des Contrees et Provinces qui
s’étendent depuis la Riviére des Palmes et le cap de la Floride.
Extrait du livre des copies des Provinces de la Floride, Seville
Chambre du Commerce, 1527. It is the first piece in Ternaux-Compans’
_Recueil des Pièces sur la Floride_.
[2] Naufragios de Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca en la Florida,
Valladolid, 1555; republished by Barcia, in the Historiadores
Primitivos de las Indias Occidentales, Tomo II., Madrid, 1749;
translated by Ramusio, Viaggi, Tom. III., Venetia, 1556, from which
Purchas made his abbreviated translation, Vol. IV., London, 1624;
translated entire, with valuable notes and maps by Buckingham Smith,
Washington, 1851. French translation by Ternaux-Compans, Paris, 1837.
[3] Asiento y capitulacion hecho por el capitan Hernando de Soto, con
el Emperador Carlos V., para la Conquista y Poblacion de la Provincia
de la Florida, y encomienda de la Gobernacion de la Isla de Cuba,
1537. Printed in 1844, in the preface to the Portuguese Gentleman’s
Narrative, by the Lisbon Academy of Sciences, from the manuscript in
the Hydrographical Bureau of Madrid.
[4] Lettre écrite par l’Adelantade Soto, au Corps Municipal de la
Ville de Santiago, de l’Isle de Cuba. In Ternaux-Compans’ Recueil des
Pieces sur la Floride.
[5] Relation de ce que arriva pendant le Voyage du Capitaine Soto, et
Details sur la Nature des pays qu’il parcourut, par Luis Hernandez
de Biedma; first printed in Ternaux-Compan’s _Recueil_; Eng. trans.
by Rye, appended to the Hackluyt Society’s edition of the Portuguese
Gentleman’s Narrative, London, 1852.
[6] Relacão Verdadeira dos Trabalhos [=q] ho Gouernador dō Fernādo
d’ Souto y certos Fidalgos Portugueses passarom no d’ scobrimēto da
provincia da Frolida. Agora nouamēte feita per hū Fidalgo Deluas,
8vo., Evora, 1557; reprinted, 8vo., Lisboa, 1844, by the Academia
Real das Sciencias, with a valuable preface. It was “contracted” by
Purchas, vol. IV., London, 1624; translated entire by Hackluyt, under
the title, “Virginia richly valued by the Description of Florida, her
next Neighbor,” published both separately and in his Collections, vol.
V., and subsequently by Peter Force, Washington, 1846, and by the
Hackluyt Society, with a valuable introduction by J. T. Rye, London,
1852; another “very inferior” translation from the French, London,
1686. French trans. by M. D. C. (M. de Citri de la Guette), 12mo.,
Paris, 1685, and again in two parts, 1707-9. Dutch trans. in Van der
Aa’s Collection, 8vo., 1706, with “schoone kopere Platen,” and a map.
[7] Buckingham Smith, Translation of Cabeza de Vaca, p. 126.
[8] Herrera, Dec. VII., cap. x., p. 16.
[9] Ticknor, in his History of Spanish Literature, says 1540; the
Biographie Universelle, 1530; errors that may be corrected from the
Inca’a own words: “Yo nasci el año mil y quinientes y treinta y
nueve.” Commentarios Reales, Parte Segunda, Lib. II., cap. xxv.
[10] La Florida del Inca; Historia del Adelantado Hernando de Soto,
Governador y Capitan General del Reino de la Florida, y de otros
Heroicos Caballeros, Españoles y Indios; 4to, Lisbona, 1605; folio,
Madrid, 1723; 12mo., Madrid, 1803. French trans. by St. Pierre
Richelet, Paris, 1670, and 1709; Leyde, 1731; La Haye, 1735; by J.
Badouin, Amsterdam, 1737. German trans. from the French, by H. S.
Meier, Zelle, 1753; Nordhausen, 1785. Fray Pedro Abiles in the Censura
to the second Spanish edition, speaks of a garbled Dutch translation
or imitation, under the title (I retain his curious orthography), _Der
West Indis che Spiegel Durch Athanasium Inga, Peruan von Cusco, T.
Amsterdam, by Broer Jansen, 1624_.
[11] The Conquest of Florida by Hernando de Soto, 2 vols. 8vo.,
Philadelphia, 1835; revised edition, 1 vol., 8vo., New York, 1851,
with a map of De Soto’s route.
[12] Charlevoix’ scheme may be found in his Histoire de la Nouvelle
France; De l’Isle’s in the fifth volume of the Voyages au Nord, and
in his Atlas Nouveau; Homans’ is quoted by Warden in the Chronologie
Historique de l’Amerique; all in the first half of the eighteenth
century.
[13] Travels into the Arkansa Territory, in 1819, Phila., 1821.
[14] Natural and Civil History of Florida.
[15] Transactions of the American Antiquarian Society, vol. II.
[16] Antiquarian Researches.
[17] History of the Discovery and Settlement of the Valley of the
Mississippi, New York, 1846, vol. I.
[18] History of Alabama, and incidentally of Georgia and Mississippi,
vol. I.
[19] Southern Monthly Magazine and Review for Jan., 1839.
[20] History of the Conquest of Florida.
[21] History of Louisiana.
[22] Life, Travels, and Adventures of Ferdinand de Soto, 8vo.,
Philadelphia, 1858; an excellent popular compend.--Mr. Schoolcraft, in
the third volume of the History of the Indian Tribes, has described
from personal examination the country in the vicinity of the Ozark
mountains, with reference to the westernmost portion of De Soto’s
route.
[23] Relation de la Floride pour l’ Illustrissime Seigneur, Vice Roi
de la Nouvelle Espagne, apporté par Frére Gregorio de Beteta; in
Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil_.
[24] Compte Rendu par Guido de las Bazares, du voyage qu’il fait pour
découvrir les ports et les baies qui sont sur la côte de la Floride;
in Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil_.
[25] Lettre du vice-roi de la Nouvelle Espagne, Don Luis de Velasco,
à sa Sacrée Majesté, Catholique et Royale, sur les affaires de la
Floride. De Mexico, le 24 Septembre, 1559; in Ternanx-Compans’
_Recueil_.
[26] Bancroft, History of the United States, vol. I, p. 60.
[27] Memoire sur la Floride, ses Côtes et ses Habitants, qu’ aucun de
ceux qui l’ont visité ont su d’écrire; in Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil_.
[28] Herrera, Dec. VIII., lib. IX., cap. xviii.
[29] The whole and true Discoverye of Terra Florida, (Englished, The
Flourishing Land) conteyning as well the wonderful straunge Natures
and Manners of the People, with the merveylous Commodities and
Treasures of the Country; as also the pleasant Portes and Havens and
Wayes thereunto, never found out before the last year, 1562. Written
in French, by Captain Ribauld, the fyrst that whollye discovered the
same, and now newly set forthe in Englishe, the xxx. of May, 1563.
Reprinted by Hackluyt, in his small black letter volume of 1583, but
not in the folio collection.
[30] Jared Sparks, Life of Jean Ribault, American Biography, vol.
VII., p. 147.
[31] Coppie d’vne Lettre venant de la Floride, envoyée à Rouen, et
depuis au Seigneur d’Eueron, ensemble le Plan et Portraict du Fort que
les François y out faict. Paris, 1565; reprint, without the “Plan et
Portraict,” in Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil_.
[32] Histoire Memorable du dernier Voyage aux Indes, Lieu appellée
la Floride, fait par le capitaine Jean Ribaut et entrepris par
comandement du Roi en l’an 1565, Lyons, 1566; another edition at
Dieppe the same year, with the title “Discours de l’Histoire de la
Floride,” &c. Sparks says, “At least three editions were published
the same year.” Ternaux-Compans republished the Lyons edition in his
_Recueil_, which differs somewhat from that of Dieppe.
[33] “Pour vieillard que je suis et tout gris;” Sparks, mistaking the
last word for _gros_, rather ludicrously translates this, “Old man as
he was and very corpulent.”--Life of Jean Ribault, p. 148.
[34] Sparks, ibid., p. 149.
[35] Brevis Narratio eorum quæ in Floridâ Americæ Provinciâ, Gallis
acciderunt, secundâ in illam Navigatione, Duce Renato de Laudonniere
Classis præfecto: Anno MDLXIIII., Francofurti ad Mœnum, 1591.
[36] Epistle Dedicatorie, Vol. III., p. 364.
[37] This seems to have escaped the notice of Mr. Sparks. It is in
Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil des Pièces sur la Floride_, appended to the
Compte-Rendu of Guido de las Bazares, without a distinct title.
[38] Memoire de l’heureux résultat et du bon Voyage que Dieu notre
Seigneur a bien voulu accorder à la flotte qui partit de la Ville de
Cadiz pour se rendre à la Côte et dans la Province de la Floride, et
dont était général l’illustre Seigneur Pedro Menendez de Aviles; in
Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil_.
[39] “Les François furent merveilleusement oultrez d’une silasche
trahison, et d’une si detestable cruaulté. La Reprinse de la Floride;
Ternaux-Compans” _Recueil_, p. 306.
[40] Une Requête au Roi, faite en forme de Complainte par les Femmes
Veufues, petits Enfans Orphelins, et autres leurs Amies, Parents et
Alliez, de ceux qui out été cruellement envahis par les Espagnoles en
la France Antharctiques dite la Floride, Mai 22, 1566: it is printed
“in one of the editions of Challeux _Discours_, and also at the end of
Chauveton’s French translation of Benzoni, Geneva, 1579. There are two
Latin translations, one by Chauveton appended to his Brevis Historia,
and also to the sixth part of De Bry; the other by an unknown hand
contained in the second part. These are free translations, but they
accord in the essential points.” Jared Sparks, Appendix to Life of
Ribaut, American Biography, vol. VII., pp. 153-4.
[41] La Reprinse de la Floride par le capitaine Gourgues; Revue
Retrospective, seconde série, Tome II.; Ternaux-Compans’ _Recueil_.
The latter was not aware of the prior publication in the Revue.
[42] De Navigatione Gallorum in Terram Floridam, deque clade an. 1565
ab Hispanis acceptâ. Antwerpiæ, 1568, 8vo. Barcia erroneously adds a
second edition of 1583.
[43] Rich (Bibliotheca Americana) incorrectly states 1565.
[44] De Gallorum Expeditione in Floridam et clade ab-Hispanis non
minus iniusté quam immaniter ipsis illata, Anno MDLXV. Brevis
Historia; Calveton, Novæ Novi Orbis Historiæ, Genevæ, 1578; De Bry,
Peregrinationes, Pars VI.; French trans. in Chauveton’s French trans.
of Benzoni, 1579. For the notice of this work I am principally
indebted to Sparks.
[45] Life of John Ribault, comprising an account of the first Attempts
of the French to found a Colony in North America, Boston, 1845; in
Vol. VII. of Sparks’ American Biography.
[46] L’Histoire Notable de la Floride située es Indes Occidentales;
Contenant les troys Voyages faits en icelle par certains Capitaines
et Pilotes François, descrits par le Capitaine Laudonniére, qui y a
commandé l’espace d’un an troys moys; à laquelle a esté adjousté un
quatriesme voyage par le Capitaine Gourgues. Mise en lumière par M.
Basanier, Gentil-homme François Mathematicien. Paris, 1586, 8vo.,
124 pp; reprinted Paris, 1853, with an _Avertissement_. Eng. trans.
London, 4to, 1586, by R. H. (Richard Hackluyt,) who included it in his
folio of 1600, reprinted in 1812.
[47] Voyages, Relations, et Memoires Originaux pour servir à
l’Histoire de l’Amerique; seconde série; Recueil des Pieces sur la
Floride, Paris, 1841.
[48] The Relation of Pedro Morales, a Spanyard which Sir Francis Drake
brought from St. Augustines in Florida, where he remayned sixe yeeres,
touching the state of those partes, taken from his mouth by Richard
Hackluyt, 1586.
The relation of Nicholas Bourgoignon, aliâs Holy, whom Sir Francis
Drake brought from St. Augustine, also in Florida, where he had
remayned sixe yeeres, in mine and Master Heriot’s hearing. Voyages,
Vol. III., pp. 432-33.
[49] Varia Historia de la Nueva España y la Florida; Madrid, 1596;
Valladolid, 1634.
[50] Cedulas y Provisiones Reales de las Indias; Varios Informes y
Consultos de differentes Ministros sobre las Cosas de la Florida; 4to
Madrid, 1596.
[51] Relacion de los Martires que ha avido en la Florida; 4to,
(Madrid?) 1604.
[52] Nicolas Antonio, Bibliotheca Hispana Nova, Tom. II., p. 43, and
Compare “Garcilasso, Commentarios Reales, Parte II., lib. VII.”
[53] Barcia, Ensayo Cronologico, p. 181.
[54] “En breve tiempo hizó (Padre Antonio Sedeño) Arte para
aprenderla, y Catecismo para enseñar la Doctrina Cristiana à los
Indios.” Barcia, Ensayo Cronologico, p. 138. His labors have escaped
the notice of Ludewig in his Literature of American Aboriginal
Languages. Though they are the first labors, before him the French
on the St. Lawrence had obtained lists of words in the native tongue
which still remain, and Laudonniére, on the first voyage of Ribaut,
(1562,) says of the Indians near the Savannah river, “cognoissans
l’affection que j’avois de sçavoir leur langage, ils m’ invitoient
après à leur demander quelque chose. Tellement que mettant par escrit
les termes et locutions indiennes, je pouvois entendre la plus
grande part de leur discours.” Hist. Notable de la Floride, p. 29.
Unfortunately, however, he did not think these worthy of publication.
[55] Confessionario en Lengua Castellana y Timuquana. Impreso con
licencia en Mexico, en la Emprenta de la viuda de Diego Lopez Daualos;
Año de 1613, 12mo., 238 leaves. Nicolas Antonio says 1612, 8vo., but
this is probably a mistake.
Grammatica de la Lengua Timuquana, 8vo., Mexico, 1614; not mentioned
by Ludewig.
Catecismo y Examen para los que comulgan, 8vo., Mexico, 1614;
reprinted “en la imprenta de Juan Ruyz,” 8vo., 1627.
[56] Ludewig says Toledo; Torquemada calls him “Natural de
Castro-Urdiales,” but Nicolas Antonio says expressly, “Franciscus
de Pareja, Auñonensis (Toletanæ dioecesis Auñon oppidum est).”
Bibliotheca Hispana Nova, Tom. I., p. 456. Besides this writer, see
for particulars of the life of Pareja, Torquemada, Monarquia Indiana,
Lib. XIX., cap. xx, p. 350, and Barcia, Ensayo Cronologico, pp. 167,
195, 203.
[57] Ludewig, Literature of American Aboriginal Languages, p. 242.
[58] Voiages aux Indes Occidentales; traduits de l’Espagnol;
Amsterdam, 1722. Dutch trans. the same year. Another edition under the
title, Recueil de Voyages dans l’Amerique Meridionale, Paris, 1738,
which Brunet does not notice.
[59] Relacion de los Viages que los Españoles han hecho a las Costas
del Seno Mexicano y la Florida desde el año de 1685 hasta el de 1693,
con una nueva Descripcion de sus Costas.
[60] Memorial en Derecho al Rei sobre la Visita à la Florida y otras
Cosas, folio, Madrid, 1690.
[61] “Solo sirven de dar Escandalo al Vulgar en los Excesos impatados
à unos y otros Individuos,” Barcia, Ensayo Chronologico, p. 300.
[62] God’s Protecting Providence Man’s Surest Help and Defence, In the
times of the greatest difficulty and most Imminent danger, Evidenced
in the Remarkable Deliverance of divers Persons from the devouring
Waves of the Sea, amongst which they suffered Shipwrack, And also
from the more cruelly devouring jawes of the inhumane Cannibals of
Florida. Faithfully related by one of the Persons concerned therein.
Philadelphia, 1699, 1701, and a _fourth_ edition, 1751. London, 1700.
German trans. Erstaunliche Geschichte des Schiffbruches den einige
Personen im Meerbusen von Florida erlitten, Frankfort, 1784, and
perhaps another edition at Leipzic.
[63] Thomas, History of Printing in America, vol. II. p. 25.
[64] The Successes of the English in America, by the March of Colonel
Moore, Governor of South Carolina, and his taking the Spanish Town of
St. Augustine near the Gulph of Florida. And by our English Fleete
sayling up the River Darian, and marching to the Gold Mines of Santa
Cruz de Cana, near Santa Maria. London, 1702; reprinted in an account
of the South Sea Trade, London, 1711. _Bib. Primor. Amer._
[65] See the note on his New Map of the North Parts of America,
London, 1720, headed “Explanation of an Expedition in Florida Neck by
Thirty Three Iamasee Indians, Accompany’d by Capt. T. Nairn.”
[66] A voyage to Georgia, begun in the year 1735, by Francis Moore;
London, 1741; reprinted in the Collection of the Georgia Historical
Society, Vol. I.
An Impartial Account of the Expedition against St. Augustine under the
command of General Oglethorpe; 8vo., London, 1742. (_Rich._)
Journal of an Expedition to the Gates of St. Augustine in Florida,
conducted by General Oglethorpe. By G. L. Campbell; 8vo., London,
1744. (_Watts._)
[67] They are in the Rev. George White’s Historical Collections of
Georgia, pp. 462, sqq., and in Harris’s Memorials of Oglethorpe.
[68] An extract may be found in Fairbank’s History and Antiquities of
St. Augustine.
[69] History of the Florida War. Ch. viii.
[70] History of St. Augustine. Ch. xiv.
[71] Statements made in the Introduction to a Report on General
Oglethorpe’s Expedition to St. Augustine. In B. R. Carroll’s Hist.
Colls. of South Carolina, Vol. II., New York, 1836. Various papers
in the State Paper Office, London, mentioned in the valuable list in
the first volume of the Colls. of the S. Car. Hist. Soc. (Charleston,
1857) which further illustrate this portion of Floridian history, I
have, for obvious reasons, omitted to recapitulate here.
[72] Ensayo Cronologico para la Historia General de la Florida, fol.
Madrid, 1723.
[73] Jared Sparks, Life of Ribaut, p. 155.
[74] Nat. and Civil Hist. of Fla., p. 175.
[75] An Account of the First Discovery and Natural History of
Florida, with a Particular Detail of the several Expeditions made on
that Coast. Collected from the best Authorities by William Roberts.
Together with a Geographical Description of that Country, by Thomas
Jefferys. 4to, London, 1763, pp. 102.
[76] A description of East Florida. A Journal upon a Journey from St.
Augustine up the River St. Johns as far as the Lakes. 4to., London,
1766; 1769; and a third edition whose date I do not know. Numerous
letters interchanged between John Bartram and Peter Collinson relative
to this botanical examination of Florida, embracing some facts not
found in his Journal, are preserved in the very interesting and
valuable Memorials of John Bartram and Humphrey Marshall, by Dr. Wm.
Darlington, p. 268, sqq. (8vo. Phila., 1849.)
[77] Travels through North and South Carolina, Georgia, East and West
Florida, and the Cherokee Country, Phila., 1791; 1794. London, 1792.
Dublin, 1793. French trans. by P. V. Benoist, Voyage dans les Parties
Sud de l’Amerique, Septentrionale, Paris, 1801; 1807.
[78] A Concise Natural History of East and West Florida. New
York printed: sold by R. Aitken, Bookseller, opposite the London
Coffee-House, Front Street, 1776.
[79] The case of Mr. John Gordon with respect to the Title to certain
Lands in East Florida, &c. With an Appendix and Plan. 4to, pp. 76,
London, 1772. (_Rich._)
[80] Fairbanks, Hist. and Antiqs. of St. Augustine, p. 164, seq.
[81] He did not meet with that success which attended a similar
experiment in Canada, so amusingly described by Baron de La Hontan.
For some particulars of interest consult Bartram, Travels, p. 94,
seq., Vignoles, Obs. on the Floridas, p. 73.
[82] Sketches, Historical and Descriptive, of Louisiana, vol. I, 8vo.,
Ch. II. Philadelphia, 1812.
[83] Notice sur le Colonie Greque établie à New Smyrna (Floride) dans
l’année, 1768. Societe de Geographie, T. VII., p. 31. (_Koner._)
[84] G. R. Fairbanks, Hist. and Antiqs. of St. Augustine, Ch. XVIII.
See also for other particulars, Bartram, Travels, p. 144, and note,
Vignoles, Obs. on the Floridas, p. 72, J. D. Schöpf, Reise---nach,
Ost-Florida, B. II., s. 363, 367, seq., who knew Turnbull personally
and defends him.
[85] Reise durch einige der mitlern und südlichen Vereinigten
Nordamerikanischen Staaten nach Ost-Florida und der Bahama-Inseln. 2
Th., 8vo., Erlangen, 1788.
[86] The Journal of an Expedition during the years 1796-1800,
for determining the Boundaries between the United States and the
Possessions of his Catholic Majesty in America, 4to., Philadelphia,
1814.
[87] A Description of East and West Florida and the Bahama Islands, 1
Vol. 8vo. Philadelphia, 1813. (_Bib. Univ. des Voyages._)
[88] Geographical and Historical Dictionary of America and the West
Indies; translated, with valuable additions, by G. R. Thompson, 5
vols., 4to, London, 1812.
[89] An account of this tribe by Major C. Swan, who visited them in
1791, has been published by Schoolcraft in the fifth volume of the
Hist. and Statistics of the Indian Tribes.
[90] Giddings, Exiles of Florida, p. 39, note.
[91] Narrative of a Voyage to the Spanish Main by the ship Two
Friends, the Occupation of Amelia Island by McGregor, Sketches of the
Province of East Florida, and Anecdotes of the Manners of the Seminole
Indians, 8vo., London, 1819.
Memoir of Gregor McGregor, comprising ---- a Narrative of the
Expedition to Amelia Island. By M. Rafter. 8vo., Stockdale, 1820.
(_Rich._)
[92] Reliquiæ Baldwinianæ; Selections from the Correspondence of the
late Wm. Baldwin, M. D., compiled by Wm. Darlington, M. D. 12mo.
Phila., 1843.
[93] Notices of East Florida, and the Sea Coast of the State of
Georgia; in a series of Letters to a Friend in Pennsylvania. With an
Appendix, containing a Register of the Weather, and a Calendarium
Floræ. The friend here referred to was Dr. Wm. Darlington. The
materials for the Calendarium are preserved in the letters to Dr.
Muhlenberg.
[94] J. L. Rattenbury. Remarks on the Cession of Florida to the United
States of America, and on the necessity of acquiring the Island of
Cuba by Great Britain. Second edition, with considerable additions,
printed exclusively in the Pamphleteer. London, 1819.
Memoir upon the Negotiations between Spain and the United States,
which led to the Treaty of 1819; with a Statistical Notice of Florida,
8vo., Washington, 1821.
[95] A Memoir of the Geography, and Natural and Civil History of East
Florida, 8vo., Philadelphia, 1821.
[96] Sketches of the History and Topography of Florida, 8vo., New
York, 1821.
[97] Compare the North Am. Review, Vol. XIII., p. 98, with the same
journal, Vol. XXVI., p. 482. (_Rich._)
[98] Notices of East Florida, with an Account of the Seminole Nation
of Indians. By a recent Traveller in the Province. Printed for the
Author. 8vo. Charleston, 1822. pp. 105.
[99] Observations on the Floridas. 8vo. New York, 1823. pp. 197.
[100] Answers of David B. McComb, Esq., with an accompanying Letter of
General Lafayette. 8vo. Tallahassie, 1827. See the North Am. Review,
Vol. XXVI., p. 478.
[101] Oration delivered by Colonel James Gadsden to the Florida
Institute of Agriculture, Antiquities and Science, at its first Public
Anniversary, Thursday, Jan. 4th, 1827. See the North Am. Review, Vol.
XXV., p. 219.
[102] Message of the President in relation to the Survey of a Route
for a Canal between the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean; with
the Report of the Board of Internal Improvement on the same, with a
general map annexed, February 28, 1829. A flowery article of ten pages
may be found on this in the Southern Review, Vol. VI., p. 410.
[103] Titles and Legal Opinions on Lands in East Florida belonging to
Richard S. Hackley, 8vo., Fayetteville, (N. Car.,) 1826, pp. 71. See
the North American Review, Vol. XXIII., p. 432. Hackley’s grant is
laid down on Williams’ Map.
[104] A View of West Florida, embracing its Topography, Geography,
&c., with an Appendix treating of its Antiquities, Land Titles, and
Canals, and containing a Chart of the Coast, a Plan of Pensacola, and
the Entrance of the Harbor. 8vo. Phila., 1827, pp. 178.
[105] The Territory of Florida; or Sketches of the Topography, Civil
and Natural History of the Country, the Climate and the Indian Tribes,
from the First Discovery to the Present Time. 8vo. New York, 1837.
[106] The War in Florida; being an Exposition of its Causes and an
accurate History of the Campaigns of Generals Gaines, Clinch and
Scott. By a late Staff Officer. 8vo. Baltimore, 1836, pp. 184.
[107] History of the Florida Campaigns. 12mo. Charleston, 1837.
[108] In the Quarterly Anti-Slavery Magazine. (Giddings, Exiles of
Florida, p. 99, note.)
[109] A Narrative of the Early Days and Remembrances of Oceola
Nikkanoche, Prince of Econchatti, a young Seminole Indian. Written by
his Guardian. 8vo. London, 1841, pp. 228.
[110] The Origin, Progress, and Conclusion of the Florida War. 8vo.
New York, 1848.
[111] The Exiles of Florida; or, the Crimes Committed by our
Government against the Maroons, who fled from South Carolina and other
Slave States, seeking Protection under Spanish Laws. 8vo. Columbus,
(Ohio,) 1858.
[112] Memoir to accompany a Military Map of Florida South of Tampa
Bay, compiled by Lieutenant J. C. Ives, Topographical Engineer. War
Department, April, 1856. 8vo. New York, 1856, pp. 42.
[113] A Winter in Florida and the West Indies. 12mo. New York, 1839.
[114] Letters from the United States, Canada and Cuba. New York, 1856.
[115] Sketches of St. Augustine, with a View of its History and
Advantages as a Resort for Invalids. By R. K. Sewall. 8vo. New York,
1848, pp. 69.
[116] The History and Antiquities of the City of St. Augustine,
Florida, comprising some of the most Interesting Portions of the Early
History of Florida. 8vo. New York, 1858.
[117] Memoire sur la Floride du Milieu, Comptes-Rendus, T. XIV., p.
518; T. XV., p. 1045.
[118] Comptes Rendus, XV., p. 1047.
[119] Repertorium ueber die ---- auf dem Gebiete der Geschichte
erscheinenen Aufsätze, u. s. w. Berlin, 1852.
[120] _Bacalaos_, the Spanish word for codfish.
[121] See A. v. Humboldt’s Introduction to Dr. T. W. Ghillany’s
Geschichte des Seefahrers Ritter Martin Behaim, s. 2-5, in which work
these two maps are given.
[122] Many of the names on this map are also on the land called Terra
de Cuba, north-west of the island Isabella, Cuba proper, on the globe
of Johann Schoner, Nuremburg, 1520. A copy of a portion of the globe
is given by Ghillany in the work just mentioned. For an inspection of
the original maps of Ptolemy of 1508 and 1513, I am indebted to the
kindness of Peter Force, of Washington.
[123] Otros conocieron ser tierra firme; y de este parecer fue
siempre Anton de Alaminos, Piloto, que fue con Juan Ponce. Barcia,
Introduccion al Ensayo Chronologico.
[124] Herrera, Dec. I., Lib. I., cap. iii., p. 91.
[125] For a description of this and other maps of America during the
sixteenth century, see Dr. Ghillany, ubi suprà, p. 58, Anmerk. 17.
[126] See G. R. Fairbanks, History and Antiquities of St. Augustine,
pp. 113, 130, for descriptions of the two latter. A “Geog. Description
of Florida” is said to have appeared at London, in 1665. Possibly it
is the account of Captain Davis’ attack upon St. Augustine.
[127] Descriptio Indiæ Occidentalis, Lib. IV., cap. xiii. (Antwerpt,
1633.)
[128] Southern Review, Vol. VI., p. 410, seq.
[129] Report of F. L. Dancy, State Engineer and Geologist, in the
Message of the Governor of Florida, with Accompanying Documents, for
1855, App., p. 9.
[130] A Description of the Province of Carolina, p. 2, London, 1727.
[131] Trans. Hist. and Lit. Com. of the Am. Phil. Soc., Vol. I., p.
113.
[132] Hist. of the American Indians, p. 358.
[133] Gilii’ Saggio di Storia Americana, Tomo III., p. 375.
[134] Rex qui in hisce Montibus habitabat, Ao. 1562, dicabatur
Apalatcy; ideoque ipsi montes eodem nomine vocantur, is written on the
map of the country in Dapper’s Neue und Unbekaute Welt (Amsterdam,
1673,) probably on the authority of Ribaut.
[135] The plums mentioned by these writers were probably the fruit
of the Prunus Chicasaw. This was not an indigenous tree, but was
cultivated by the Southern tribes. During his travels, the botanist
Bartram never found it wild in the forests, “but always in old
deserted Indian plantations.” (Travels, p. 38.)
[136] See Appendix III.
[137] Histoire Naturelle et Morale des Illes Antilles de l’Amerique,
Liv. II., pp. 331-353. Rotterdam, 1658.
[138] History of the Caribby Islands, London, 1666.
[139] Geographia Exactissima, oder Beschreibung des 4 Theil der ganzen
Welt mit Geographischen und Historischen Relationen, Franckfort am
Mayn, 1679. This is a German translation of D’Abbeville’s geographical
essays. I have not been able to learn when the last part, which
contains Bristock’s narrative, was published in French.
[140] America. London, 1671.
[141] De Nieuwe en Onbekeende Weereld. Amsterdam, 1671.
[142] Die Unbekante Neue Welt. Amsterdam, 1673.
[143] The British Empire in America, Vol. I. London, 1708.
[144] Geschichte von Amerika, B. H. Halle, 1753. The articles in
these volumes were selected with much judgment, and translated by
J. F. Geyfarts and J. F. Schrœter, Baumgarten merely writing the
bibliographical introductions. It contains a curious map entitled
_Gegend der Provinz Bemarin im Königreich Apalacha_.
[145] The Chikasah asserted for themselves the same origin, and even
their Mexican relatives were said to visit them from time to time.
(Adair, Hist. of the North Am. Indians, p. 195.)
[146] Numerous references showing the prevalence of this error are
adduced by D’Orbigny, L’Homme Americain, Tom. II., p. 275, et seq.
Among later authors who have been misled by such authorities are
Humboldt, (“Reise nach dem Tropen, B. V., s. 181,”) and the eminent
naturalist F. J. F. Meyen, (Ueber die Ur-Eingebornen von Peru, s. 6,
in the Nov. Act. Acad. Cæsar. Leopold. Carolin. Nat. Cur. Vol. XVII.,
Sup. I.)
[147] Writers disagree somewhat as to the situation of this
fountain. Hackluyt (Vol. V., p. 251) and Gomara (Hist. de las Indias
Occidentales, Cap. XLV., pp. 31, 35) locate it on the island Boiuca
or Agnaneo, 125 leagues north of Hispaniola. Some placed it on the
island Bimini,--which, says Oviedo, is 40 leagues west of Bahama (Pt.
I., lib. xix., cap. xv., quoted in Navarrete,)--a name sometimes
applied to Florida itself, as on the Chart of Cristobal de Topia
given in the third volume of Navarrete. Herrera, La Vega, Fontanedo,
Barcia, Navarrete and most others agree in referring it to Florida.
Fontanedo confuses it with the river Jordan and the Espiritu Santo or
Mississippi. Gomara (ubi suprà, p. 31) gives a unique interpretation
to this myth and one quite in accordance with the Spanish character,
namely, that it arose from the rare beauty of the women of that
locality, which was so superlative that old men, gazing upon it, would
feel themselves restored to the vigor of youth. In this he is followed
by Ogilby. (America, p. 344.)
[148] See Appendix I. The later Indians of Florida seem to have
preserved certain relics of a superstitious veneration of the aqueous
element. Their priests had a certain holy water, sanctified by blowing
upon it and incantation, thought to possess healing virtues (Nar. of
Oceola Nikkanoche, p. 141;) Coacooche said that when the spirit of
his twin-sister came to him from the land of souls, she offered him a
cup of pure water, “which she said came from the spring of the Great
Spirit, and if I should drink of it, I should return and live with her
for ever.” (Sprague, Hist. Florida War, p. 328.)
[149] Parallel myths are found in various other nations. Sir John
Maundeville speaks of the odoriferous fountain of youth near the river
Indus, and Ellis mentions “the Hawaiian account of the voyage of
Kamapiikai to the land where the inhabitants enjoy perpetual health,
where the _wai ora_ (life-giving fountain) removed every internal
malady and external deformity or decrepitude from those who were
plunged beneath its salutary waters.” (Polynesian Researches, Vol I.,
p. 103.)
[150] Fontanedo, Memoire, pp. 17, 18, 19, 32, 39. Gomara, Hist. de las
Indias, cap. XLI., p. 31.
[151] Intro. to the Ensay. Cron.; Fontanedo makes the same statement.
[152] Despues de establecido los Españoles en las Islas de Santo
Domingo, Cuba, y Puerto Rico, averiguaron que los naturales
conservaban algunas ideas vagas de tierras situadas à la parte
septentrional, donde entre otras cosas maravillosas referian la
existencia de cierta fuente y rio, cuyas aguas remozaban à los
viejos que en ella se bañaban; preocupacion tan añeja y arraigada en
los Indios, que aun antes de la llegada de los españoles los habia
conducido à establecer allì una colonia. Viages y Descubrimientos,
Tomo III., p. 50.
[153] L’Art de Verifier les Dates, Chronologie Historique de
l’Amerique, Tome VIII., p. 185.
[154] Herrera, Dec. I., Lib. IX., cap. XI., p. 249.
[155] Barcia, Ensay. Cron., Año 1698, p. 317, Careri, Voyage round the
World, in Churchill’s Coll. Vol. IV., p. 537.
[156] William Bartram, Travels, p. 227.
[157] See Labat, Voyage aux Isles de l’Amerique, Tome I., p. 136, and
Hughes, Nat. Hist. of Barbadoes, p. 5.
[158] Jucaias a conjecturis junctas fuisse quondam reliquis magnis
insulis nostri arbitrantur, et ita fuisee a suis majoribus creditum
incolæ fatentur. Sed vi tempestate paulatim absorpta tellure alterne
secessisse, pelago interjecto uti de messenensi freto est autorum
opinio Siciliam ab Italia dirimente, quod una esset quondam contigua.
De Novo Orbe, Dec. VII., cap. II., p. 468, Editio Hackluyti, Parisiis,
1587.
[159] On this topic consult Baumgarten, Geschichte von Amerika, B.
II., s. 583; Jefferys, Hist. of the French Dominion in America, Pt.
II., p. 181; Adelung, Allgemeine Sprachenkunde, Th. II., Ab. II., s.
681; Barton, New Views of the Tribes of America, p. lxxi.; Hervas,
Catalogo de las Lenguas conocidas, Tomo I., p. 387.
[160] See Appendix II.
[161] Hist. of the North Am. Indians, p. 267.
[162] Trans. Am. Antiq. Soc. Vol. II., p. 103 seq. Bossu found the
tradition of De Soto’s invasion rife among the Alibamons (Creeks) of
his day. (Nouv. Voyages aux Indes Occident. I’t. II., pp. 34, 35.
Paris, 1768.)
[163] Memoires Historiques sur la Louisiane, Tome II., p. 301.
[164] The Cherokees plastered their houses both roofs and walls inside
and out with clay and dried grass, and to compensate for the lowness
of the walls excavated the floor as much as three or four feet. From
this it is probable they were the “Indi delle Vacche” of Cabeza de
Vaca “tra queste case ve ne havea alcune che erano di terra, e tutte
l’altre sono di stuore.” (Di Alvaro Nunnes Relatione in Ramusio,
Viaggi, Tom. III., fol. 327, B.) A similar construction was noticed by
Biedma in Acapachiqui where the houses “etaient creusées sous terre
et rassemblaient à des cavernes,” (Relation, pp. 60, 61,) by the
Portuguese Gentlemen in Capachiqui, (Hackluyt, Vol. V., p. 498.) and
by La Vega among the Cofachiqui, (Conq. de la Florida, Lib. III., cap.
XV., p. 131.) Hence the Cherokees are identical with the latter and
not with the Achalaques, as Schoolcraft erroneously advances. (Thirty
Years with the Indian Tribes, p. 595.) I suppose it was from this
peculiar style of building that the Iroquois called them _Owaudah_, a
people who live in caves. (Schoolcraft, Notes on the Iroquois, p. 163.)
[165] Adair, Hist. of the N. Am. Inds., pp. 413, 420, 421; Wm.
Bartram, Travels, pp. 367, 388; Le Page Dupratz, Hist. of Louisiana,
Vol. II., pp. 351-2.
[166] Hist. N. Am. Inds., pp. 422-3.
[167] François Coreal, Voyages, Tome I., p. 31; Catesby, Account of
Florida and the Bahama Islands, p. viii.
[168] Hist. N. Am. Inds., p. 116.
[169] Nat. Hist. of E. and W. Florida, pp. 71, 83.
[170] Mems. Hist. sur la Louisiane, Tome II., p. 301.
[171] George White, Hist. Colls. of Georgia, p. 423. It has also been
described to me by a gentleman resident in the vicinity.
[172] See the Christian Advocate and Journal for 1832, and the almost
unintelligible abstract of the article in Josiah Priest’s American
Antiquities, pp. 169, 170, (third edition, Albany, 1833.) Though
the account is undoubtedly exaggerated, it would merit further
investigation.
[173] See Appendix II.
[174] I give these according to the orthography of Baumgarten, who may
differ slightly from other writers.
[175] Oratio Dominica Polyglotta, Amstelædami, 1715. He does not state
where he obtained them.
[176] Hewitt, History of South Carolina, Vol. I. p 156.
[177] El Cacique principal de Apalache, Superior de muchos Caciques,
Barcia, Ensay. Cron., p. 323.
[178] Roberts, Hist. of Florida, p. 14.
[179] Schoolcraft’s Ind. Tribes, Vol. V. p. 259.
[180] Schermerhorn, Report on the Western Indians in Mass. Hist.
Colls. Vol. II. (2 ser.,) p. 26; Alcedo, Hist. and Geog. Dict. of
America, Vol. I., p. 82.
[181] Views of Louisiana, p. 150.
[182] Trovarono terre grandi piene di genti molto ben disposte, savie,
politiche, e ben’ ordinate. Bartolome de las Casas, Istoria della
Distruttione dell’ Indie Occidentali, p. 108. Venetia, 1626.
[183] Barcia, Ensay. Cron., p. 71.
[184] Memoire, p. 13.
[185] At what time or by whom Tampa Bay was first so called I have
not been able to learn. Its usual name in early narratives is Baia de
Espiritu Santo, which was given by De Soto; sometimes from separate
discoveries it was called Bahia Honda (Deep Bay,) El Lago de San
Bernardo, Baie de St. Louis, and by the Indiana Culata (Barcia,
Ensayo Cron. p. 342, Torquemada, Monarquia Indiana, Lib. I., Cap.
VI.) Herrera in his map of the Audiencia de la Española marks it “B.
de tampa,” and after him Gerard a Schaagen in the Nov. et Accurat.
Americæ Descriptio.
[186] Williams, Hist. of Florida, pp. 36, 212. Ellicott’s Journal, p.
247. Robert’s Hist. of Florida, p. 17.
[187] Guaicum officinale; the _el palo_ or _el palo santo_ of the
Spaniards.
[188] Barcia, En. Cron. Año 1566.
[189] See Prior’s Journal in Williams’ Florida, p. 299. The name Miami
applied to a tribe in Ohio, and still retained by two rivers in that
State, properly Omaumeg, is said to be a pure Algic word, meaning,
People who live on the peninsula. (Amer. Hist. Mag. Vol. III., p.
90.) We are, however, not yet prepared to accept this explanation as
applicable to the word as it appears in Florida.
[190] Barcia, Ensay. Cron., p. 49, and compare the Hist. Notable, p.
134.
[191] For these facts see Fontanedo’s Memoire, _passim_, and Barcia,
Años 1566, 1567.
[192] Bernard Romans, pp. 291-2.
[193] Desde los Martires al Cañaveral, Herrera, Dec. IV., Lib., IV.,
cap. VII.
[194] Barcia (En. Cron. p. 118) says Ais commences twenty leagues up
the St. Johns river; but distances given by the Spanish historians
were often mere guesses, quite untrustworthy.
[195] Basanier, Hist. Notable, pp. 133-4.
[196] Vignoles, Obs. on the Floridas, pp. 74-5.
[197] Biedma, Relation, p. 53; the Port. Gent. in Hackluyt, V., p.
492; La Vega, Lib. II., cap. x., p. 38.
[198] Irving’s Conquest of Fla., p. 84, note.
[199] Barcia, Año 1567; Fontanedo, pp. 20, 35.
[200] Basanier, Hist. Notable, pp. 190-1, 108-9, 140 sq.
[201] Jusqu’à Mayajuaca, dans la contrée de Ais, vers _le lieu planté
de roseaux_. Fontanedo, Memoire, p. 35. Cañaveral is a Spanish word
signifying the same as the expression I have italicised.
[202] Basanier, Hist. Not. p. 90.
[203] Ibid.
[204] Basanier, Hist. Not. p. 8.
[205] Hackluyt, Vol. V., p. 492, Fontanedo, p. 15.
[206] Les Floridiens ne sement, ne plantent, ne prennent rien ni à la
chasse, ni à la pêche, qui ne soit à la disposition de leurs chefs,
qui distribuent, et donnent, comme il leur plait, etc. François
Coreal, Voiages, Tome I., p. 44. The chiefs on the Bahamas possessed
similar absolute power. (Peter Martyr, De Novo Orbe, Dec. VII., cap.
I., p. 467.)
[207] Basanier, Hist. Not., p. 132.
[208] Basanier, pp. 9, 141.
[209] Fontanedo, pp. 10, 11.
[210] Basanier, Hist. Not. p. 7.
[211] Travels, p. 456.
[212] E. G. Squier, Aborig. Mon. of N. Y., App. pp. 135-7; Serpent
Symbol, pp. 90, 94, 95.
[213] Adair, Hist. N. Am. Inds., p. 205.
[214] They came to meet Narvaez playing on such flutes, “tañendo unas
Flautas de Caña,” Cabeza de Vaca, Naufragios, cap. V.
[215] Bernard Romans, p. 62.
[216] Francisco Ximenez, Origen de los Indios de Guatemala, p. 179.
[217] De Morgues, Brevis Historia, Tab. XXI.
[218] Lettre écrite par l’Adelantade Soto, etc., p. 46.
[219] Brevia Historia, Tab. XXX., and compare the Histoire Memorable,
p. 261.
[220] Naufragios, cap. III.
[221] God’s Protecting Providence, p. 62. This style of building was
common among the Caribs, and may have been derived from them.
[222] Basanier, Hist. Not., pp. 8, 101.
[223] See Mackay, Progress of the Intellect, Vol. II., p. 143, note
152, and authorities there quoted.
[224] Brevis Historia, Tab. XXXV.; Baumgarten, Geschichte von Amerika,
B. I., s. 87.
[225] Klemm, Culturgeschichte der Menscheit, B. II, s. 179.
[226] Basanier, Hist. Not., pp. 43 sqq.
[227] On the Trinity in aboriginal American religions, see Count
Stolberg in the Wiener Yahrbücher der Literatur, B. XVI., s. 278.
[228] God’s Protecting Providence, p. 12.
[229] God’s Protecting Providence, pp. 38, 39.
[230] Hist. of the North Am. Indians, p. 22. He embraces all tribes
“from Hudson Bay to the Mississippi,” and adds that they had no
lascivious or Priapean images or rites, in which he is equally at
fault.
[231] Man hat weder bei den Sudamericanern noch bei den Nördlichen
eigentliche Götzenbilder oder I dole bemerkt. Culturgeschichte
der Menschheit, B. II., s. 172. This is confined of course to the
“Yägervolker.”
[232] Barcia, Ensayo Cron. Año 1566, p. 94; the Port. Gent. in
Hackluyt, Vol. V. p. 491, mentions this as existing among the tribes
near Tampa Bay.
[233] Moris apud illos est primogenitum masculum Regi victimum
offerre, etc. Brevis Historia, Tab. XXXIV.
[234] La Reprinse de la Floride, p. 264.
[235] Wm. Bartram, Travels, p. 263, and compare Adair, Hist. of the
North Am. Inds. pp. 238-9.
[236] Brevis Historia, Tab. XL. Basanier, Hist. Not., pp. 10, 11.
[237] Mackay, Progress of the Intellect, Vol. II., p. 129.
[238] Tucururu or Tacatacuru was on the Atlantic coast south of St.
Augustine, between it and Santa Lucea. (Barcia, En. Cron., p. 121.)
[239] Hervas, Catalogo de las Lenguas de las naciones conocidas, Tom.
I. p. 387. Madrid, 1800-1805.
[240] Mithridates, oder Allgemeine Sprachenkunde, B. III., s. 285.
[241] Gallatin, Trans. Am. Antiq. Soc., Vol. II., p. 178.
[242] Basanier, Hist. Not. pp. 67, 69, 72; Coppie d’une Lettre venant
de la Floride, p. 244.
[243] Trans. Am. Antiq. Soc., Vol. II., p. 106.
[244] Hewitt, Hist. of S. Car., Vol. I., p. 222. He gives 1714 as the
date of this occurrence. But see Carroll’s Hist. Colls. of S. Car.,
Vol. II., p. 353.
[245] On the Yemassees consult Hewitt, ubi suprà; Barcia, En. Cron.
Año 1686; the tracts in Carroll’s Hist. Colls. of S. Car., Vol. II.,
pp. 106, 246, 353, 355; Roberts, Hist. of Florida, p. 15; Notices of
E. Florida, by a recent traveller, p. 57.
[246] On the migrations of this tribe consult the Colls. of the
Georgia Hist. Soc. Vol. I., pp. 145-6; Vol. II., pp. 61, 71; John
Filson; The Disc., Settlement, and Pres. State of Kentucké, App.
3, p. 84; Gallatin in Trans. Am. Antiq. Soc., Vol. II., pp. 84,
95; Notices of E. Fla., by a recent traveller, p. 59; Narrative of
Oceola Nikkanoche, p. 70 et seq.; Moll’s Map of the Northern Parts of
America, and Sprague’s Hist. of the Florida War.
[247] Travels, pp. 388-9, and see p. 486.
[248] Barcia, Ensayo Cronologico, Año 1686, p. 287.
[249] Jedediah Morse, Rep. on Ind. Affairs, App. p. 93, Archæol-Amer.,
Vol. I., p. 273, and others.
[250] Other forms of the same are Little St. Johns, Little Savanna,
Seguano, Suannee, Swannee. It was also called the Carolinian river.
[251] H. R. Schoolcraft, Notes on the Iroquois, p. 161. Adair,
however, says they recorded themselves to be _terræ filii_. (Hist. N.
Am. Inds., p. 257, but compare p. 195.)
[252] For the individual nations composing the confederacy see Romans,
Hist. of Fla., p. 90; Roberts, Hist. of Fla., p. 13, and Adair, p. 257.
[253] Giddings (Exiles of Florida, p. 3) gives the incorrect
translation “runaways,” and adds, “it was originally used in reference
to the Exiles long before the Seminole Indians separated from the
Creeks.” The Upper Creeks called them Aulochawan. (American State
Papers, Vol. V., p. 813.)
[254] Establishment of the Colony of Georgia, pp. 10, 12, in Peter
Force’s Historical Tracts, Vol. I.
[255] Major C. Swan, in Schoolcraft’s Hist. of the Indian Tribes. Vol.
V., pp. 260, 272.
[256] _Smilax_, _China_, and _Zamia pumila_.
[257] On the civilization of the Seminoles, consult Wm. Bartram,
Travels, pp. 192-3, 304, the American Jour. of Science, Vol. IX.,
pp. 133, 135, and XXXV., pp. 58-9; Notices of E. Fla., by a recent
Traveller, and the works on the Florida War.
[258] Narrative of Oceola Nikkanoche, p. 75. The author supposed this
was to receive the injunctions of the dying mother, but more probably
it sprang from that belief in a _metasomatosis_ which prevailed, and
produced analogous customs in other tribes. See La Hontan, Voiages,
Tome I., p. 232; “Brebeuf, Relation de la Nouv. France pour l’an 1636,
ch. IX.” Pedro de Cieza, Travs. in Peru, ch. XXXII., p. 86 in Steven’s
Collection.
[259] Notices of East Fla., by a recent traveller, p. 79. For the
extent and meaning of this singular superstition, see Schoolcraft,
Oneota, pp. 331, 456; Algic Researches, Vol. I., p. 149, note; Hist.
of the Indian Tribes, Vol. III., p. 66; Gregg, Commerce of the
Prairies, Vol. II., p. 271; Bradford, American Antiquities, p. 415;
Mackay, Progress of the Intellect, Vol. I., p. 146, and note^{15}.
[260] Narrative of Oceola Nikkanoche, p. 77.
[261] C. Swan in Schooloraft’s His. Ind. Tribes, Vol. V., p. 260.
[262] By the whites I refer to the descendants of the English of
the northern states. While under the Spanish government, up to the
first Seminole war, their nation was said to be “numerous, proud
and wealthy.” (Vignoles, Obs. on the Floridas, App., p. 215.) This
was owing to the Spanish laws which gave them equal privileges with
white and free colored persons, and drew the important distinction
that they could hold land _individually_, but not _nationally_. How
different these beneficent regulations from the decree of the Florida
Legislature in 1827, that any male Indian found out of the reservation
“shall receive not exceeding thirty-nine stripes on his bare back,
and his gun be taken away from him.” (Laws relating to Inds. and Ind.
Affairs, p. 247, Washington, 1832,) and similar enactments.
[263] Roberts, First Disc. of Fla., p. 90.
[264] Collections of Georgia Hist. Soc. Vol. II., p. 318.
[265] Ibid., p. 73.
[266] Travels, p. 211.
[267] Nat. History, p. 91.
[268] Report on Indian Affairs, p. 33.
[269] Cohen, Notices of Florida, p. 48.
[270] Sprague, Hist. of the Fla. War, p. 19.
[271] American State Papers, Vol. VI., p. 439.
[272] Hist. of the Fla. War, p. 97.
[273] Ibid., p. 409.
[274] Ibid., p. 512.
[275] Ibid.
[276] Relation de la Floride apportée par Frère Gregorio de Beteta, in
Ternaux’s _Recueil_. They did not touch the coast beyond the Bay of
Apalache nor much south of Tampa Bay. Both Barcia (En. Cron. Año 1549)
and Herrera (Dec. VIII., Lib. V., cap. XIV., XV.) say they entered the
latter, but this cannot be, as the supposed description is entirely
inapplicable. For other particulars see Eden’s translation of Peter
Martyr, (fol. 319, Londini, 1555.)
[277] The authority for this, as well as most of the facts in this
chapter where other references are not given, is Barcia’s Ensayo
Cronologico.
[278] Sometimes called Santa Maria or St. Marys; now Amelia Island,
so named, from the beauty of its shores, by Gov. Oglethorpe in 1736.
(Francis Moore, Voyage to Georgia, in Ga. Hist. Soc.’s Colls. Vol. I.,
p. 124)
[279] Called by the natives Ylacco or Walaka, the river of many lakes;
by the French Rivière Mai, as Ribaut entered it on the first of that
month; by the Spaniards Rio Matheo, Rio Picolato, on some charts by
mistake Rio San Augustin, Rio Matanca and Rio Caouita, and not till
much later Rio San Juan, which the English changed to St. Johns, and
St. Whan.
[280] Barcia, p. 123, and cf., p. 128.
[281] Williams, Florida, p. 175.
[282] Though Drake left nothing but the fort, and the dwellings were a
second time destroyed by Col. Palmer, in 1727, yet Stoddard (Sketches
of Louisiana, p. 120) says houses were standing in his time bearing
the date 1571!
[283] Hackluyt, Vol. III., p. 432. Pedro Morales adds, “The greatest
number of Spanyards that have beene in Florida these sixe yeeres, was
300.”
[284] Torquemada, Monarquia Indiana, Lib. XIX., cap. XX., p. 350.
[285] Nat. and Civ. Hist. of Fla., p. 175.
[286] Torquemada, Monarquia Indiana, Lib. XIX., cap. XX., p. 350;
Barcia, Años 1603 and 1612.
[287] L’interieur, non plus que les parties de l’ouest et du Nord
n’est pas en notre pouvoir. Voiages aux Indes Occidentales, T. I., p.
27.
[288] He published two Cedulas Reales for this purpose, bearing the
dates Oct. 20, 1680, and Sept. 30, 1687.
[289] Barcia, p. 317; Careri, Voyage round the World, in Churchill’s
Coll., Vol. IV., p. 537.
[290] God’s Protecting Providence, pp. 77-8.
[291] Maintenant ils sont presque touts Chrètiens. Louys Morery, Le
Grand Dictionnaire Historique, ou le Melange Curieux, Vol. I., Art.
_Apalaches_. (Amsterdam and La Haye, 1702.)
[292] See the Report on Oglethorpe’s Expedition, and Col. Moore’s
Letter to the Governor, in Carroll’s Hist. Colls. of S. C., Vol. II.
[293] Williams, View of W. Fla., p. 107.
[294] Alcedo, Dict. of America, Vol. I., p. 81.
[295] God’s Protecting Providence, pp. 68-9.
[296] Herman Moll, Thesaurus Geographus, Pt. II, p. 211, 4th ed.
London, 1722.
[297] Dickinson, God’s Protecting Prov., p. 63.
[298] Roberts, Hist, of Fla., p. 15, and Francis Moore’s Voyage to
Georgia.
[299] Travels, p. 233.
[300] Travels in E. Fla., p. 32, Darlington, Mems. of Bartram and
Marshall, p. 284.
[301] Nat. Hist. E. and W. Fla., pp. 277-8.
[302] Nat. and Civil Hist. Fla. Preface and p. 175.
[303] See his letter on the Antiquities of the State in Williams’ View
of W. Fla., pp. 105-110.
[304] The War in Fla., by a late Staff Officer, p. 5; see also, the
account of Black Hoof in Morse’s Rep. on Ind. Affairs, App. p. 98, and
cf. Archæol. Am., Vol. I. p. 273.
[305] Dr. Stork, Des. of E. Fla., p. 8.
[306] Capt. Robinson, in Roberts, p. 97.
[307] Roberts, Hist. of Fla., p. 5.
[308] Parliamentary History, Vol. XV., Col. 1301, Art. XX.
[309] Travels, p. 65.
[310] Jour. of Travels in E. Fla., p. 25.
[311] Travels, p. 99.
[312] Ibid., p. 521.
[313] Travels, p. 99.
[314] Au sorty du village d’Edelano, pour venir au port de la rivière
il faut passer par une allée, longue environ de trois cens pas et
large de quinze, aux deux costez de laquelle sont plantez de grands
arbres, &c. Hist. Notable, p. 138.
[315] Il y a au sortir du village une grande allée de trois à quatre
cens pas, laquelle et recouverte de grands arbres des deux costez.
Hist. Not. pp. 164-5.
[316] Conq. de la Florida, Lib. II., P. I, cap. ult.
[317] La Vega, Ibid., Lib. I., cap. V., pp. 30-1.
[318] Lafitau in Baumgarten, Geschichte von Amerika, B. I., s. 71;
Schoolcraft, Algic Researches, Vol. II., pp. 52, 190.
[319] Knight, Anc. Art. sect. 162; Mackay, Progress of the Intellect,
Vol I., p. 198, note^{28}; Montfaucon, Antiquities, Vol. II, p. 235;
Görres, Mythengeschichte, B. I., s. 171.
[320] Real Cedula que contiene el asiento capitulado con Lucas Vasquez
de Aillon, in Navarrete Viages, Tom. III. p. 153; Basanier, Hist.
Notable, p. 29, and comp, p. 78.
[321] Real cedula dando facultad à Francisco de Garay para poblar la
Provincia de Amichel, in Navarrete, Tom. III., p. 148. The account
says they were “de diez à once palmos en alto.”
[322] Histoire de la Virginie, Liv. III., p. 259, (Orleans, 1707.)
[323] Notes on the Iroquois, p. 482.
[324] Letters from the Allegheny Mountains, Let. XX. p. 162.
[325] Archæologia Americana, Vol. I.
[326] On the _rôle_ of trees in primitive religions consult Guigniaut,
Religions de l’Antiquitè, T. I., pp. 81, 150, note, 391, 406.
[327] La Vega, Conq. de la Florida, Lib. I., cap. IV., p. 5.
[328] Ibid. Lib. III., cap. XIV., p. 129. cap. XV., p. 131, et sq.
[329] For descriptions of this mode of interment, essentially the same
in most of the tribes from the Mississippi to the St. Lawrence, and
very widely prevalent in South America, consult Wm. Bartram, Travels,
p. 516; Romans, Nat. Hist. Fla., pp. 88-90; Adair, Hist. N. Am.
Inds., p. 183; Lawson, New Account of Carolina, p. 182, in Stevens’
Collection; Beverly, Hist. de la Virginie, pp. 259-62; Baumgarten,
Ges. von Amerika, B. I., s. 470; Colden, Hist. of the Five Nations, p.
16, and many others.
[330] See an instructive notice from Pere le Petit in the Lettres
Edifiantes et Curieuses, T. IV., pp. 261-2, and the Inca, Lib. II.,
pp. 69-70; Lib. IV., p. 188; Lib. V., pp. 202, 231, &c.
[331] Port. Gent, in Hackluyt, V., p. 489.
[332] Nar. of Oceola Nikkanoche, pp. 71-2. The author speaks of one
“that must have covered two acres of ground,” but this is probably a
misapprehension.
[333] I am aware that Mr. Schoolcraft places the pottery of Florida
intermediate between the coarse work of the northern hunter tribes,
and the almost artistic manufactures of Yucatan and Mexico, (see
an article on the Antiquities of Florida, in the Hist. of the Ind.
Tribes, Vol. III.;) but the numerous specimens obtained in various
parts of the peninsula that I had opportunities to examine, never
seemed to indicate a civilization so advanced.
[334] There is an excellent paper on this topic by the well-known
geologist, Lardner Vanuxem, in the Trans. Am. Assoc. Geol. and
Naturalists, for 1840-42, p. 21. sq.
[335] This is not an invariable proof however; see Tuomey, Geol.
Survey of S. Car., p. 199, note.
[336] Second Visit to the United States, Vol. I., p. 252.
[337] Am. Jour. of Science, Vol. XI., (2 ser.) pp. 164-74.
[338] Le case loro sono edificate di stuore sopra scorze d’ostriche, e
sopra di esse dormono sopra cuoi d’animali. Relatione que fece Alvaro
Nunez, detto Capo di Vaca, Ramusio, Viaggi, T. III., fol. 317., E.
[339] On the geology of these bluffs, see the articles by Mr. Allen,
in the first, and Mr. Conrad in the second volume of the Am. Jour.
Science. (Second series.)
[340] Travels, p. 198.
[341] The peculiar hue of the whole St. Johns system of streams has
been termed by various travellers a light brown, light red, coffee
color, rich umber, and beer color. In the sun it is that of a weak
lye, but in the shade often looks as black as ink. The water is quite
translucent and deposits no sediment. The same phenomenon is observed
in the low country of Carolina, New Jersey, and Lake Superior, and on
a large scale in the Rio Negro, Atababo, Temi, and others of South
America. In the latter, Humboldt (Ansichten der Natur, B. I., p.
263-4) ascribes it “to a solution of carburetted hydrogen, to the
luxuriance of a tropical vegetation, and to the quantity of plants and
herbs on the ground on which they flow.” In Florida, the vast marshes
and hammocks, covered the year round with water from a few inches to
two feet in depth, yet producing such rank vegetation as to block up
the rivers with floating islands, are doubtless the main cause. The
Hillsboro, Suwannee, and others, flowing through the limestone lands
into the Gulf, are on the other hand remarkable for the clarity of
their streams. I have drank this natural decoction when it tasted and
smelt so strongly of decayed vegetable matter as almost to induce
nausea. A fact not readily explained is that while the dark waters of
other regions are marked by a lack of fish and crocodiles, a freedom
from stinging musquitoes, a cooler atmosphere and greater salubrity,
nothing of the kind occurs on these streams.
[342] For particulars concerning some of these, see Wm. Bartram,
Travels, pp. 145, 165, 206, 230; Notices of E. Florida, by a recent
Trav., pp. 28, 44; American Journal of Science, Vol. XXV., p. 165, I.,
(2 ser.) p. 39.
[343] Flint, (Travels, Let. XVI., p. 172,) says that neither of those
found in 1810 measured more than four feet. This is an error. He only
saw the female, whose age was not over fourteen, and the squatting
position in which the body was, deceived him.
[344] Conq. de la Florida, Lib. V., P. II., cap. VIII.
[345] In French’s Hist. Coll. of La., Pt. I., p. 61.
[346] Mems. Hist. sur la Louisiane, T. I., pp. 154-5.
[347] Hist. of Louisiana, Vol. II., p. 230.
[348] A New Account of Carolina, p. 191.
[349] Joutel, Jour. Hist., p. 218; Mems. of Sieur de Tonty, p. 61;
Dupratz, V. II., p. 22; Cabeza de Vaca. in Ramusio, T. III., fol. 317,
E.
[350] Lawson, ubi suprà, p. 180.
[351] It was remarked of the mummy found in the Mammoth cave, “In
the making of her dress there is no evidence of the use of any other
machinery than bone and horn needles.” (Collin’s Kentucky, p. 257.)
[352] Archæologia Americana, Vol. I., p. 230.
[353] Whence the French verb _boucaner_, and the English _buccaneer_.
Possibly the custom may have been introduced among the tribes of the
northern shore of the Gulf by the Caribs.
[354] Dumont, Mems., Hist. sur la Louisiane, T. I, p. 240.
[355] De Bry, Peregrinationes in America, P. I., Tab. XXII.; Beverly,
Hist. de la Virginie, Liv. III., pp. 285-6; Lawson, Acc’t of Carolina,
p. 182; Schoolcraft, Hist. Ind. Tribes, Vol. V., p. 693.
[356] See the Inca, Lib. IV., caps. VIII., IX.
[357] See the Am. Jour. of Science, Vol. I., p. 429; Vol. XXII., p.
124; Collin’s Kentucky, pp. 177, 448, 520, 541; Bradford, Am. Antiqs.,
Pt. I., p. 29.
[358] Dumont, Mems. Hist. T. II., pp. 178, 238; Dupratz, Vol. II., p.
221, and for the latter fact, Mems. of the Sieur de Tonty, p. 61.
[359] Medical Repository, Vol. XVI., p. 148. This opinion is endorsed
by Bradford, Am. Antiqs., p. 31.
[360] Humboldt, Krit. Untersuch. ueber die Hist. Entwickelung der
Geog. Kentnisse der neuen Welt, B. I., s. 322; the same reason is
given by De Laet, Descrip. Ind. Occident. Lib. IV., cap. XIV.
[361] “Guañines de oro,” Navarrete, Viages, Tom. III., p. 52; Herrera,
Dec. I., Lib. IX., cap. XI.
[362] Mais on n’y trouve pas d’or, parce qu’elle est eloignè des
mines d’Onagatono, situées dans les montagnes neigeuses d’Onagatono
dernieres possessions d’Abolachi, Memoire, p. 32.
[363] Pedro Morales, in Hackluyt, Vol. III., p. 432.
[364] See Lanman’s Letters from the Allegheny Mountains, pp. 9, 26,
27; White, Hist. Coll. of Georgia, pp. 487-8.
[365] Humboldt, Island of Cuba, p. 131, note.
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