Returning to Spain, his wealth and achievements seem to have excited genuine admiration rather than envy, and he at once became the favorite of the court. His martial spirit craved adventures, and could not remain content with the dullness of court life. He therefore petitioned the king to be allowed to fit out an expedition to occupy and settle the Spanish northern possessions. The country at that time designated as Florida extended from the Chesapeake Bay to Mexico, and, as was thought, embraced the richest portion of the world, full of all things good.

De Soto’s request having been granted, he was at once commissioned Adelantado and Marquis of Florida. A fleet of seven ships and three cutters was at once purchased, and armed and equipped for the expedition, and, as it was De Soto’s intention to colonize the country, much attention was given to providing a supply of such seeds and animals as were desirable to introduce. It is possible that some of the seeds scattered by the followers of De Soto may to-day be reproducing themselves in Florida. The origin of the wild horses of America has also been assigned to the Spanish introduction at this time. So great was the desire to accompany De Soto, and so certain seemed the rich recompense of wealth and honor to be achieved under such a leader, that the complement of a thousand chosen men was recruited with ease. Of this number more than three hundred were gentlemen of rank, knights and hidalgoes of the best blood of Spain, who lavished their means in the purchase of arms and equipments, thinking that with these they would procure wealth in plenty. With this brilliant corps were twelve priests, to minister to the spiritual welfare of the Spaniards, or Indians, or both.

Leaving Spain in the spring, the fleet proceeded as far as Cuba, where it was delayed a while in completing the arrangements. Here De Soto married the lady Isabella, a sister of the famous Bovadilla. The enjoyment of the society of his new wife, however, could not detain him from the pursuit of honor. In May, 1539, he left Cuba and landed in Florida on Whitsunday, in the same month. The bay in which they landed, now called Tampa Bay, was named by them “Espiritu Santo,” in honor of the day on which they arrived. A detailed account of the march of De Soto would be too long to introduce in a work like this. There were two reports published in the sixteenth century, both of which have been translated into English. While of great value and interest, they both contain much that is fabulous and exaggerated. Soon after beginning the march northward, the advance guard of the Spaniards fell in with a body of Indians, who advanced apparently to oppose them. The Spanish captain, thinking it was an assault, ordered a charge, when, greatly to their surprise, they heard the Spanish tongue in a supplication not to kill one of their own countrymen. The speaker proved to be the captive Ortiz, before mentioned. Having acquired a knowledge of the Indian language he was a great acquisition to the command, though unable, from his restricted confinement, to give a satisfactory reply to the first question asked him by his countrymen, “Where was there any gold to be found?” By the advice of Ortiz, or from motives of policy, De Soto pursued a pacific policy at first, and met with friendly treatment and generous supplies of provisions at the various Indian towns. The Indians, at that time, seemed to have paid considerable attention to agriculture, and to have lived in towns that were rudely fortified, and built with very considerable dwelling houses and barns. Some of the houses of the chiefs are described as more than a hundred feet long, containing many rooms, and set upon artificial mounds. They were built of palings, sometimes plastered with clay, and covered with thatch. At nearly every town the Spaniards found provisions stored, consisting of walnuts, dried grapes, beans, millet, and corn, besides growing vegetables, among which are mentioned beets. Some of the towns must have been very large, as many as six thousand inhabitants dwelling in and around several mentioned. At one town called Mabila, the baggage and valuables of the Spaniards were carried within the palisades by the Indians forced to transport them. There an attack was made upon the town, and twenty-five hundred of the savages were slain. The chief and a company of natives to transport the baggage were seized at every town, unless packmen were offered voluntarily. After marching a short distance away from their homes, the women were allowed their freedom, but the men were led by a chain attached to a Spanish soldier. Arriving at a town, these bondsmen were released, and new captives taken, to be in turn exchanged further on.

In this manner did De Soto march through what is now Florida, thence north-easterly through Georgia into South Carolina, thence back to the vicinity of Pensacola.

While in South Carolina De Soto fell in with an intelligent race of Indians, whose sovereign was a woman. Here he secured a large store of pearls, nearly three hundred pounds, some of which were said to be worth their weight in gold. These, however, were all lost, together with the other valuables and the baggage, in the burning of the town Mabila.

W. Gilmore Simms, the novelist, has seized upon the fables connected with this Indian queen, in his romance of “Andres Vasconselos.”

Trusting to the disingenuous tales of the Indians, and ever led on by his overweening faith in the existence of vast stores of gold, De Soto had marched on and ever further on until, consuming a year’s time, he had made a complete circuit of the country, and found himself empty-handed within six days’ march of Pensacola, then called Ochuse. Here he had ordered his lieutenant, Maldonado, to await his arrival with the ships he had sent back to Cuba for a supply of provisions and mining tools.

De Soto at this time exhibited that masterly force of character which had secured his former success and his great influence. Unwilling to endure the disgrace that would attach to an unsuccessful issue of the expedition, a disaster which, with the unfortunate results of former expeditions, he feared would preclude any future attempts to settle the Spanish domains in Florida, he resolved to conceal from his followers their location and the nearness of the fleet, lest, being disheartened by their want of success and worse than uncertain prospect of the future, they would refuse to continue on, and taking possession of the ships, set sail for the West Indies. He therefore forbade Ortiz to mention to the troops the arrival of Maldonado, which had been learned from the Indians. Recruiting his men and horses by a short rest, he marched on again into the unknown wilderness, and turned his back forever upon home, friends, and all that makes life worth living. Still searching for gold he marched from region to region, ever meeting and overcoming difficulties and opposition, and yet unsuccessful. He proceeded as high as the Cumberland River, then turned west, crossed the Mississippi, and reached the Red River. In that region the Spaniards wintered, and in the spring De Soto retraced his steps to the Mississippi, having determined to reach the mouth of that river, from whence he could send to Mexico and Cuba for further supplies. The disappointment and mortification which his gallant nature had so long opposed was eating like a cancer into his heart, and unsustained by a hope, which in other circumstances would have thrown off disease, his body at last gave way to fatigue and malaria, and he began to sink under a wasting fever. Deep despondency settled down upon him as he thought of home, his young wife, and all the comforts and prospects he had put so far from his reach. Calling his followers about him, he thanked them for their courage and devotion, and besought them to accept of his appointment of a successor to lead them after his death, which he assured them was near at hand. His followers tried to afford him the regulation comfort at such times, depicting this life as so full of misery that he was most happy who was soonest relieved of its burden. They finally received from him the appointment of Louis Moscoza as their captain.

Shortly after, on the 21st day of May, 1542, died that chivalrous knight, Don Hernando de Soto, Governor of Cuba, and Adelantado of Florida, far from his native land, in the wilderness on the banks of that great Father of Waters, whose vast and turbid flow ever recalls his great name and deeds, and whose discovery has proved his most enduring remembrance.

Desirous of impressing the Indians with the supernatural origin of De Soto, his followers declared that his father, the Sun God, had taken him to himself, and lest their deception should be manifested by the sight of his dead body, the corpse of their illustrious and beloved leader was placed in a canoe, and in the darkness of the night consigned to the waters of the mighty river.