Columbus and Other Heroes of American Discovery

by N. D'Anvers

CITY OF MEXICO.

Two years later, a costly expedition to Cibola, consisting of some two thousand adventurers, was fitted out by Mendoza, the Viceroy, who had superseded Cortes in the supreme command in Mexico. This expedition was divided into two parts, one of which, under Fernando di Alarchon, proceeded up the coast in well equipped vessels, while the other, under Vasquez de Coronado, proceeded overland by the same route as that taken by Da Nizza.

Sailing up the Vermilion Sea, or the Sea of Cortes, as the Gulf of California was then called, Alarchon presently came to the mouth of a large river, probably the Colorado, flowing into the head of the gulf in N. lat. 32° 10′. Entering the river, the Spanish were soon brought to a stand-still by the appearance on its banks of numbers of well-armed natives, who, with threatening gestures, forbade the intruders to advance further into their country.

Making conciliatory signs, however, Alarchon was able to open a parley, and an old man came forth from among the gesticulating crowds, stepped into the water, and presented Alarchon with a staff. This, it appeared, answered to the calumet of the inland tribes, and, accepting it with an embrace to the donor, Alarchon gave its bearer some rosaries, which were eagerly carried ashore, though their spiritual significance is scarcely likely to have been appreciated.

A good understanding having been thus established between the natives and their guests, the white men were allowed to proceed up the river. Some little distance from its mouth, the explorers met an Indian who knew the language of some of the native escort, and by this means intelligible communications were opened with the people. As their brethren had done in the South, the Spaniards gave out that they were the Children of the Sun, sent by the life-giving Deity to rule over the natives of Arizona. Asked how it was they had so long delayed their coming, and, having come, could not speak the language of their subjects, they replied in an evasive yet reassuring manner. In due course a second Indian joined the party, who not only knew all about Cibola, but had even heard of Da Nizza’s expedition. From him Alarchon learned that he was but ten days’ journey from the great city, and he tried to persuade some of his companions to cross the country and communicate with Coronado, who must by this time have been within easy reach. No one could, however, be induced to make the venture, and Alarchon—somewhat rashly, as it seems to us—resolved to turn back. Sailing down the river, he returned to Mexico, having accomplished next to nothing.

Meanwhile, Coronado had bravely led his troops over the rugged mountainous districts of the north of Mexico, and in spite of much murmuring on their part on account of the hardships endured by the way, he had brought them safely to the plain of the Seven Cities. Here, on the very eve of success, he was met by a large force of armed Cibolans, who rejected all his efforts at conciliation. In the battle which ensued, the Spaniards were finally victorious, and the city of Cibola was taken; but Coronado was dangerously wounded in the assault, and the long hoped-for plunder was nowhere to be found. Cibola was but a large village, situated on a lofty and bleak plain, yielding plenty of grass, maize, and pebbles of rock crystal, but no gold, silver, or precious stones.

As soon as he could travel, Coronado, disguising his disappointment as best he could, took possession of Cibola in the name of his Catholic Majesty of Spain, and collected information on all sides as to the nature of the country beyond the plain of the cities. Learning that a great town called Quivira existed somewhere on the coast, he led his men to a distance of about 300 leagues through a level and somewhat barren country, finally arriving at the town in question, which turned out to be really large and wealthy, though its riches consisted in a fine breed of cattle, not in the precious metals and minerals for which the Spaniards had hoped.

Feeling that he had now accomplished something, Coronado then led his forces back to Mexico. As usual, very exaggerated reports were circulated by his followers as to what they had seen and done; and though its site has never yet been ascertained, Quivira was the goal of many a future expedition.

The next hero to attempt to penetrate to the North-west was Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, a Portuguese mariner, sent out in 1542 by the indefatigable Mendoza. After rounding the modern Cape St. Lucas, Cabrillo sailed along the coast of California as far as N. lat. 40° 30′, where he saw two lofty snow-clad mountains, between which projected the now well-known modern headland to which he gave the name of Cape Mendocino, in honor of his employer. Sailing on beyond Cape Mendocino, Cabrillo was compelled, four degrees further north, to turn back, on account of the extreme cold. He arrived in Mexico in the spring of 1543, after ten months’ absence, his voyage justly entitling him to be called the discoverer of Northern California, though that honor is usually claimed for our fellow-countryman, Sir Francis Drake, who, thirty-six years later, touched at Point de los Reyes, and, in ignorance of his predecessor’s work, took possession of the country he thought he had discovered in the name of Queen Elizabeth, christening it New Albion.