The next expedition noting the Mississippi river was under the command of Pamphilo (or Panfilo) de Narvaez, for exploration and colonization of the country north of the Gulf of Mexico, from Florida westward nearly to the Panuco river, over which he had been given the title of governor. Grandly but ignorantly planned, this expedition was most utterly disastrous. Out of the three hundred men who began it, only Cabeza de Vaca, the historian of their shipwrecks and wanderings, with three others, survived to reach Spanish settlements.
In April, 1528, after a stormy voyage from Cuba, Narvaez landed on the west coast of Florida, probably at Tampa Bay. Amid great hardships, the expedition, mostly afoot, but having forty horses, marched through woods and swamps, crossed rivers, found an Indian town called Apalachen, and, finally turning back, came again to the sea, probably at the site of St. Mark’s, about fifty miles east of the Appalachicola River. Not finding his ships, on which he expected to re-embark, Narvaez consulted his followers, and they decided, although destitute of tools, to construct boats and voyage westward along the coast. More than forty had died of disease and hunger, and ten had been killed within sight of their camp and boat-building, by arrows of Indian foes, before they embarked, late in September, reduced to the number of two hundred and forty-seven, in five frail vessels, to be propelled by oars, but also provided with sails. They had no adequate means to carry water, and consequently suffered terribly from thirst, as well as hunger. On the sea they were in great peril during storms; and on landing they were assailed by the Indians with stones and arrows.
About the end of October the wretched flotilla reached the Mississippi, of which Cabeza de Vaca wrote in his Relation, as translated by Buckingham Smith:
“My boat, which was first, discovered a point made by the land, and, against a cape opposite, passed a broad river. I cast anchor near a little island forming the point, to await the arrival of the other boats. The Governor did not choose to come up, and entered a bay near by in which were a great many islets. We came together there, and took fresh water from the sea, the stream entering it in freshet. To parch some of the maize we brought with us, since we had eaten it raw for two days, we went on an island; but finding no wood we agreed to go to the river beyond the point, one league off. By no effort could we get there, so violent was the current on the way, which drove us out, while we contended and strove to gain the land.
The north wind, which came from the shore, began to blow so strongly that it forced us to sea without our being able to overcome it. We sounded half a league out, and found with thirty fathoms we could not get bottom; but we were unable to satisfy ourselves that the current was not the cause of failure.”
During the next week the boats, being rowed and drifted westward, were separated by storms; that of Narvaez may have foundered; others were driven ashore and wrecked. Those of the men who escaped from the sea mostly perished by hunger and cold, while some were enslaved by the Indians. Cabeza de Vaca was held in servitude on and near the island where he was wrecked, probably the island of Galveston, during about six years. Thence escaping, with two Spaniards and a negro of their company, he wandered across Texas, Chihuahua, and Sonora, securing the friendly aid of the Indians all the way, and coming to Spanish settlements on the Pacific coast, near the mouth of the Gulf of California, at the end of March, 1536. The next year he returned to Spain, where his Relation was published in 1542. A map of his wanderings was made in Mexico for the viceroy, but it has not been preserved. No addition to the knowledge of the Mississippi was derived from this expedition.
Grander, equally foolhardy, and scarcely less direful in its experiences, was the expedition of Hernando (Ferdinand) de Soto, similarly planned for discoveries, conquest, and the establishment of a colonial government. He attained to a possession of the country granted to him, but only by burial in its great river.
By a strange infatuation, Cabeza de Vaca, arriving in Spain, and being questioned by his kinsfolk, gave them the impression that Florida, then including a large region northwest of the peninsula, was “the richest country in the world.” This was near the truth, if understood with reference to capabilities for agriculture; but the Spaniards pictured such wealth of gold and silver as had been recently plundered from Peru and Mexico. A soldier of fortune, De Soto, who was of noble lineage, formerly poor, but who had become suddenly rich with Pizarro from the spoils of Peru, was eager for greater wealth and power. Returning to Spain he secured appointment as governor of Cuba, with a commission to extend Spanish dominion over Florida and the country north of the Gulf of Mexico, where he was to be the feudal lord and governor. It was the same commission as that which had lured Narvaez to his death; but it was thought to be a sure passport to great wealth.
Many young gentlemen of the noblest families in Spain, and some from Elvas in Portugal, flocked to De Soto’s standard. One of the Portuguese, whose name is unknown, wrote the narrative, published in 1557, which is our chief source of information concerning the route and history of the expedition. An English translation of this Relation of “A Gentleman of Elvas,” made by Richard Hakluyt, was published in 1611, and was reprinted for the Hakluyt Society in 1851. Another translation, by Buckingham Smith, from which ensuing quotations are taken, was published in New York by the Bradford Club in 1866.
There were more volunteers than could be accepted; and after an exultant voyage to Cuba and thence to Florida, De Soto landed, with about 600 men and 213 horses, at Tampa Bay, May 30 (old style), 1539.