scious of their weakness, they ceased shortly to defy an enemy whose power was irresistible, and suffered injury without retaliation. The boats of the natives were too weak to transport horses, and barges were therefore constructed for crossing the river. A month nearly elapsed before their preparations were all completed, and the Europeans borne in triumph across the stream.

In ascending the west bank of the Mississippi, the Spaniards were obliged to wade through deep, and almost impenetrable morasses, till they came to the elevated grounds which extend in the direction of NewMadrid, and here the religion of the invaders and the natives first came in contact. The former were adored as children of the Sun, and the halt, the lame, and the blind, were brought into their presence, in order to be healed.

De Soto, in reply to their frequent entreaties, told them to "pray to God who is in Heaven, for whatever they needed." It would seem, then, that the sublime doctrines of Christianity promulgated centuries before in India, were now brought for the first time to the untutored savages of North America, by a military adventurer.

In July, 1541, De Soto marched as far north as Pacaha, in Arkansas, where he remained about forty days. An exploring party, sent northerly from there, reported, on their return, that the country in that direction was thinly inhabited; that buffaloes were so numerous that maize could not be cultivated, and that the regions still farther north, (on the Missouri.) were nearly a desert. He turned, therefore, his course to the west and southwest, and ascended as far up as the highlands of White River, about two hundred miles from the Mississippi, which terminated his ramble in that direction. The mountains in the vicinity affording neither gems nor gold, the disappointed adventurers thereupon turned to the south, and explored the tributaries of the Washita, where they found whole tribes of Indians, advanced to some extent in civilization; having fixed places of abode, and subsisting on the produce of their fields, instead of the chase. Peaceable and inoffensive, the Spaniards treated them with great severity, sometimes employing them as porters and sometimes as guides; and on slight suspicion, cutting off their hands for punishment or intimidation; sometimes throwing them to their bloodhounds, and sometimes into the flames. Any trifling consideration of safety induced De Soto to set fire to their hamlets, not because he delighted in cruelty, but because the happiness, the life, and the rights of the natives, were of no account. The approach of the Spaniards was of course heard with dismay, and their departure hastened, as before, by the suggestion of wealthier lands at a distance.

In March, 1542, he descended the Washita to its junction with the Red River, and from thence to the Mississippi. He there inquired of a chief, by the name of Guachoya, the direction and distance to the sea, and received for answer, that the lower banks of the Mississippi were a wild, uncultivated waste. Unwilling to believe so disheartening a tale, he sent

forward eight horsemen to explore the country, who, after wandering about for several days among frequent bayous, impassable cane-brakes, and impenetrable forests, returned and filled the Spanish camp with gloom. His followers and horses were at this time wasting rapidly away, and the natives were becoming dangerous. Driven to his last and almost only resource, De Soto attempted for the first time to overawe a savage tribe near Natchez, by claiming a supernatural birth, and demanded from them obedience and tribute. Its undaunted chief, instead of complying with his demands, invited him to their camp, and told him, "If he came in peace, he would receive him in friendship; if in war, he would not shrink one foot from his presence." De Soto, unable longer to punish temerity in the natives, sunk under the weight of conflicting emotions. His health failed him, and his stubborn pride was changed into wasting melancholy. A malignant fever in the meantime set in, during which he received but little comfort, and less attention than his last hours required. Supposing his death to be near, he held the last solemn interview with his companions, and yielding to their wishes, named a successor. On the 21st of May, 1542, he expired in their arms; not, however, "unhonored or unmourned." His affectionate soldiers pronounced his eulogy; the priests that accompanied the expedition chanted over his body the first requiems that were heard in the "Far West," and to conceal his death, his remains were wrapped in a mantle, to which a large stone was appended, and sunk at midnight in the stream.

Thus perished Fernando De Soto; the Governor of Cuba, the associate of Pizarro, and the friend and companion of princes. He had sought gold-obtained renown-and found a grave. The discoverer of the Mississippi now slept, like Attila, beneath its waters.

"Such honors Ilion to her hero paid,

And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade."

Moscoso, on whom the mantle of the late governor had fallen, succeeded De Soto in command; and the invaders, urged on by the energy of their commander, no more resolved to return. Having New Spain in view, the question at once arose, should they seek it by descending the river, or by crossing the interminable forests that lay between. The latter, as less dangerous, was adopted, and the adventurers, actuated by the hopes which many yet cherished, that some splendid city or empire would finally reward their toils, again penetrated the wilderness. In July they found themselves in the country of the Natchitoches; came upon the Red River soon afterward, when swollen by floods so as to be impassable; wandered up and down the woods under Indian guides, who designedly misled them; reached the hunting-grounds of the Pawnees and Comanches on the confines of Mexico-got discouraged, and resolved to return. They at length reached the Mississippi above the mouth of the Red River; erected there a forge; collected what scraps of iron they could find in

camp; made nails out of the fetters struck off from their captives-built a few frail barks without decks, in which they descended the Mississippi, and escaped finally (reduced in number to three hundred and eleven,) with their lives.

Thus ended the expedition of De Soto, on the 10th of September, 1543. Brilliant with hope and glittering in armor, the flower of Spanish chivalry had embarked, intent on conquest, as gayly as a bridal party. "Gallant with silk upon silk," and after wandering amid perils and dangers, for nearly five years, through cane-brakes, bayous, and forests; after losing a large portion of their number, and among them some of their proudest nobles, they returned in extreme poverty, clad in rags and mats of Indian manufacture.

They had discovered, however, the Mississippi-had erected the standard of Spain on its shores; and according to the ideas which prevailed in that semi-barbarous age, had thus established the title of their sovereign to the whole of that vast region watered by its tributary streams.

The State of Illinois became from that time forward a Spanish colony, and its native inhabitants, according to the views at that time prevailing, were of course vassals of the Spanish crown.

Notwithstanding the failure of three successive expeditions against Florida, other adventurers, in 1546, sought permission to invade it, and to possess the whole country by force of arms. Their request, however,

was denied.

In 1547, religious zeal, under the auspices of Philip, then heir apparent of Spain, finally triumphed; and Louis Cancello, a missionary of the Dominican order, received permission to visit Florida, and attempt the peaceful conversion of its native population. A ship was fitted out in 1549, with great solemnity, for that purpose, but the priests who embarked in the expedition being feared as enemies, fell martyrs to their zeal, and Florida was abandoned. It seemed then, as it has frequently done since, that death guarded its portals. While the Castilians were everywhere else victorious, Florida, wet with the blood of its invaders, was still unpolluted by their hostile tread. Not a fort was erected-not a harbor was occupied-not one settlement was yet begun.

In 1562, Admiral Coligny of France, a Protestant, eminent for his piety, anxious to establish in America a refuge for the Huguenots, and disappointed by the apostacy of an agent in his first efforts to establish a colony in Brazil, under the auspices of John Calvin, the celebrated reformer; in connection with other influential persons, planned an expedition to Florida. Religious zeal, accompanied by a desire to promote the honor and glory of France, led unquestionably to its adoption. Its command was intrusted to one John Ribault, of Dieppe ; a brave man, of great experience, and a decided Protestant. He was accompanied by a few veteran soldiers, and some of the most gallant nobility of France. The squadron sailed on the 1st of February, 1562, made land near St. Augustine in May, and erected a monumental stone, upon which he engraved the arms of France. Cast

ing his eyes around, and viewing with surprise and wonder the mighty oaks, venerable for their antiquity, which everywhere abounded—the wild fowl existing in great profusion-the immense groves of pine and flowers that perfumed the air; and regarding the whole country as a province of his native land, he resolved to leave a colony, and return to France for reinforcements and supplies. Twenty-six colonists were therefore left to keep possession of a Continent. Ribault arrived in France with his ships in July, 1562, found a civil war then raging in all its horrors, and was unable, therefore, to bring out the promised reinforcements. The situation of the colonists, in the meantime, became alarming; the soldiers were insubordinate dissensions prevailed-the commander lost his life in a mutiny that ensued-and the company embarked for France in a wretched ship, constructed of frail materials by themselves. Delighted with the prospect of returning home, they neglected to provide a sufficiency of naval stores, and were overtaken by famine at sea; boarded by an English bark, and landed, some of them in France and the residue in England. A transient peace between Charles IX. and the Huguenots, having been made in 1564, Coligny renewed his former attempt to colonize Florida. The king assented, three ships were set apart for the service; and one Laudonniere, a man of great intelligence, appointed to command them. Emigrants were readily obtained-Florida was celebrated then, as now, for its climate and riches; and men still dreamed of mines in the interior. After scouring the coasts for some time, the followers of Calvin located themselves upon the River May-sang psalms of thanksgiving in commemoration of the event, and gathered courage from acts of devotion. A fort was erected, and named Fort Carolina, in honor of the king; and Calvinism, to all human appearance, was established on its shores.

The French at first were hospitably received. Their supplies, however, were improvidently wasted-a scarcity followed, and tribute was indiscreetly levied upon the natives by force. Their confidence in the French was therefore lost for ever. They had welcomed them as guests, and in return the French had robbed their granaries. Mutinies became frequent; and a considerable party, seeking, as they said, to escape from famine, compelled Laudonniere to sign an order, giving them permission to embark for New Spain. Possessed of this apparent sanction, they equipped two vessels, and began a career of piracy in the West Indian seas. This was the first act of hostility committed by the French against the Spaniards, and was immediately avenged. The pirate vessel was taken, and most of its crew were sold into slavery. A few, however, escaped, and returned to Fort Carolina, where they were arrested by Laudonniere, and sentenced to die.

In the meantime, the French suffered for the want of provisions, (the friendship of the Indians having been forfeited by unreasonable severity,) the supplies and recruits expected did not arrive, and hope itself became nearly extinguished. While preparing to embark for Europe, Sir John.

Hawkins, the celebrated slave merchant, arrived from the West Indies. He had just sold a cargo of Africans, which he had kidnapped under extraordinary circumstances, and was now inspired with the most generous sympathy. He supplied their wants, and tendered for their use a vessel from his fleet. While, however, these preparations were going on, Ribault returned to assume the command, and brought supplies from France emigrants, with their families, garden seeds, implements of husbandry, and domestic animals of every kind. The French colonists, elated with joy, abandoned their contemplated voyage, and agreed with one voice to remain. It seemed as though the dominion of France was now established in Florida, with Calvinism for its creed.

Spain, however, had not yet relinquished her title, though many of her bravest sons had fallen in the cause, and no colony had yet been established; but it comported not with the dignity of Philip II. to abandon, even a small territory to France, or to suffer the commercial monopoly of Spain to be endangered by a rival settlement, or the heresy of Calvin to be planted in its neighborhood. To prevent this, decisive measures were required.

About this time, there appeared at the Spanish court a reckless adventurer, fitted by nature and education for the task. Pedro Melendez de Avilès, had for a long time been accustomed to scenes of carnage. His natural ferocity had been improved by the infamy of his life. His bigotry had been nourished by a long and protracted war with the Protestants of Holland; and Melendez himself, by encountering pirates, excluded by the law of nations from mercy, had become inured to deeds of vengeance. He had acquired a fortune in Spanish America, where benevolence was seldom taught, and less frequently practiced. His conduct even there had provoked inquiry, which caused his arrest, and procured his conviction; and the justice of his sentence was confirmed by the king, who knew him well, and esteemed his bravery.

The heir of Melendez had been previously shipwrecked near Bermuda, and the father asked leave of his sovereign merely to return, and search among the islands for his only son. Philip II., however, suggested to him the conquest and colonization of Florida. A compact was soon framed, and Melendez was appointed its hereditary governor.

By this compact, bearing date on the 20th of March, 1565, Melendez, at his own cost, was to invade Florida with at least five hundred mento complete its conquest in three years to explore its currents and channels, the dangers of its coasts, and the depth of its havens-to establish a colony of at least five hundred persons, of whom one hundred were to be married men-to introduce at least twelve ecclesiastics, besides four Jesuits to transport thither all kinds of domestic animals, and import into Florida five hundred negro slaves.

While preparations were thus making in Spain, intelligence was received, through the treachery of France, that the Huguenots had made a settlement in Florida, and that Ribault was preparing to sail thither.