This ill-starred expedition is memorable rather for its misfortunes than because of any service it has rendered to civilization. Most graphically are these shadowed forth in the death and burial of De Soto himself, and in that sense they will stand for all time on the page of history as a memorial to what men will dare and suffer for greed of gold. In any other cause the expedition would be worthy an epic.
Although composed of the best soldiers in the world, with a valiant and skilful captain for its leader, the little army became so hopelessly entangled, so utterly lost in the primeval wildernesses, that to this day it has never been possible to trace out the true course of that fatal march.[8] Wherever he could hear of gold, thither De Soto led his weary and footsore battalions. When baffled on one side, he turned with rare perseverance to another. And though they were being wasted in daily combats, though famine and disease followed them step by step through swamp and everglade, over mountains and rivers, still, with wondrous fatuity, De Soto pushed ever on. Like an enchantress his El Dorado had lured him on to his destruction.
For about two years De Soto and his companions wholly passed from the knowledge of men. A miserable remnant of this once gallant band then made their way to the coast, not indeed as conquerors, but as fugitives.[9]
DEPARTURE OF THE SPANIARDS.
Just where these years were passed is not clear. Long ago time obliterated all traces of the invaders' march. So the clew is lost. Yet we do know that one day in May, 1541, two years after its first landing, the army halted on the banks of an unknown river almost half a league broad. One of the soldiers says of it, that if a man stood still on the other side it could not be discerned whether he was a man or no. The river was of great depth, and of a strong tide which bore along with it continually many great trees. All doubt vanishes. This could be no other than the "Father of Waters" itself.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Mississippi River first mentioned (Indian). The name is variously spelled by early writers. "Father of Waters," or "Great Father of Waters," is the accepted meaning. Most probably the Espiritu Santo of the earliest known Spanish map of Florida (1521), of Sebastian Cabot's (1544); and St. Esprit of the one given in the text, though the Mobile may be meant. De Soto's people seem first to have called it Rio Grande or Great River. This disaster brought exploration in this quarter to a full stop for forty years, when it was resumed by the French, of whose efforts we shall presently speak. The river then appears on a map of the explorer Louis Joliet (1674) under its present name, though there spelled "Messasipi." From this time the name superseded all others.
[2] Gulf Coast of Florida is laid down with tolerable accuracy on a map of 1513 (Ptolemy, Venice). Garay examined it in 1518. By 1530 (Ptolemy, Basle) the Gulf Coast had obtained quite accurate delineation. The Gulf, itself, being the highway for ships bound to Mexico and Yucatan, was well known to Spanish sailors. Erelong it became an exclusively Spanish sea on which no other flag was allowed.