Chapter 9: , which treats of the direction which the army took, (3)

There had been few attractions to draw these adventurers away from Mexico, the metropolis of the mainland, for some time previous to 1539. Peru still offered excitement for those who had nothing to gain or lose, but the purely personal struggle going on there between Pizarro and Almagro could not arouse the energies of those who were in search of glory as well as of employment. A considerable part of the rabble which followed Nuño de Guzman during the conquest of New Galicia went to Peru after their chief had been superseded by the Licentiate de la Torre, so that one town is said to have disappeared entirely from this cause; but among these there were few men of good birth and spirit. Mendoza had been able, at first, to accommodate and employ those who accompanied him from Spain, like Vazquez Coronado, “being chiefly young gentlemen.” But every vessel coming from home brought some companion or friend of those who were already in New Spain, and after Cabeza de Vaca carried the reports of his discoveries to the Spanish court, an increasing number came each season to join the already burdensome body of useless members of the viceregal household. The viceroy recognized the necessity of relieving the community of this burden very soon after he had established himself in Mexico, and he was continually on the watch for some suitable means of freeing himself from these guests. By 1539 the problem of looking after these young gentlemen—whose number is determined quite accurately by the two hundred and fifty or three hundred “gentlemen on horseback” who left New Spain with Coronado in the [p377] spring of 1540—had become a serious one to the viceroy. The most desirable employment for all this idle energy would be, of course, the exploration and conquest of new country, or the opening of the border territory for permanent settlement. But no mere work for work’s sake, no wild-goose chase, would do. These young gentlemen had many friends near to Charles V, who would have resented any abuse of privilege or of confidence. A suitable expedition could be undertaken only at considerable expense, and unless the cost could all be made good to the accountants in Spain, complaints were sure to be preferred against even the best of viceroys. So Mendoza entertained his guests as best he could, while they loafed about his court or visited his stock farms, and he anxiously watched the reports which came from the officials of the northwestern province of New Galicia and from the priests who were wandering and working among the outlying Indian tribes. When, late in the summer of 1539, Friar Marcos returned from the north, bringing the assurance that Cibola was a desirable field for conquest, the viceroy quickly improved the opportunity for which he had been waiting. Within a month and a half Mendoza had begun to organize the force which was to conquer this new country.

Compostela, on the Pacific coast, was announced as the place at which the force should assemble. The viceroy desired to have the army begin its march so soon as the roads were passable in the spring, and he wished also to relieve the Indians living in the districts between Mexico and the coast from as much as possible of the annoyance and loss which would be inevitable if the army started from Mexico and marched through this territory in a body. How much this forethought for the Indians was needed appears from Mendoza’s reply to the accusations against him filed during the visita of 1547, which showed that all his care had not saved the Indians of Michoacan from needless injury at the hands of those who were on their way to join the gathering at Compostela. Incidentally, this arrangement also gave the capital city an earlier relief from its unwelcome guests.

Popular as was the expedition to the Seven Cities, there was a little opposition to the undertaking. When it became evident that a large force was about to leave the country, some of those who were to remain behind complained that all New Spain was being depopulated, and that no one would be left to defend the country in case of an Indian uprising. When Mendoza reached Compostela, by the middle of February, 1540, Coronado asked him to make an official investigation of these complaints. The formal request is dated February 21, and on the following day, Sunday, the viceroy held a grand review of the whole array, with everyone ready equipped for the march. As the men passed before the viceregal party the secretaries made an exact count and description of the force, but this document is not now known. Its loss is partly supplied by the sworn testimony of the officials who were best acquainted with the inhabitants of all parts of New Spain, [p378] recorded a few days after the departure of the expedition. They declare that in the whole army there were only two or three men who had ever been settled residents in the country; that these few were men who had failed to make a living as settlers, and that, in short, the whole force was a good riddance.[52]

The men who assembled at Compostela to start for the Seven Cities numbered, Mendoza stated at the time of the visita in 1547, “about two hundred and fifty Spaniards on horseback, . . . and about three hundred Indians, a few more or less.” Mota Padilla, who must have used documents of the very best authority, nearly all of which have since disappeared, gives the number of the force as “two hundred and sixty horsemen, . . seventy footmen, . . and more than a thousand friendly Indians and Indian servants.” Herrera, who used official documents, says that there were one hundred and fifty horsemen and two hundred footmen. Mendoza’s statement of the number of Indians may be explained, if we suppose him to have referred only to the friendly Indians who went on the expedition as native allies. His statement is made in the course of a defense of his administration, when he was naturally desirous of giving as small a number as possible. Castañeda says that there were three hundred horsemen, and this number occurs in other early narratives.

Mendoza spared neither pains nor expense to insure the success of the expedition. Arms, horses, and supplies were furnished in abundance; money was advanced from the royal chest to any who had debts to pay before they could depart, and provision was made for the support of those who were about to be left behind by fathers, brothers, or husbands. The equipment of the force was all that the viceroy could desire. Arms and military supplies had been among the things greatly needed in New Spain when Mendoza reported its condition in his first letters to the home government. In 1537 he repeated his request for these supplies with increased insistence. The subject is not again mentioned in his letters, and we may fairly suppose that he had received the weapons and munitions of war, fresh from the royal arsenals of Spain, with which he equipped the expedition on whose success he had staked so much. It was a splendid array as it passed in review before Mendoza and the officials who helped and watched him govern New Spain, on this Sunday in February, 1540. The young cavaliers curbed the picked horses from the large stock farms of the viceroy, each resplendent in long blankets flowing to the ground. Each rider held his lance erect, while his sword and other weapons hung in their proper places at his side. Some were arrayed in coats of mail, polished to shine like that of their general, whose gilded armor with its brilliant trappings was to bring him many hard blows a few months later. Others wore iron helmets or vizored headpieces of the tough bullhide for which the country [p379] has ever been famous. The footmen carried crossbows and harquebuses, while some of them were armed with sword and shield. Looking on at these white men with their weapons of European warfare was the crowd of native allies in their paint and holiday attire, armed with the club and the bow of an Indian warrior. When all these started off next morning, in duly ordered companies, with their banners flying, upward of a thousand servants and followers, black men and red men, went with them, leading the spare horses, driving the pack animals, bearing the extra baggage of their masters, or herding the large droves of “big and little cattle,” of oxen and cows, sheep, and, maybe, swine,[53] which had been collected by the viceroy to assure fresh food for the army on its march. There were more than a thousand horses in the train of the force, besides the mules, loaded with camp supplies and provisions, and carrying half a dozen pieces of light artillery—the pedreros, or swivel guns of the period.

After the review, the army assembled before the viceroy, who addressed to them an exhortation befitting the occasion. Each man, whether captain or foot soldier, then swore obedience to his commander and officers, and promised to prove himself a loyal and faithful vassal to his Lord the King. During the preceding week the viceroy had divided the force into companies, and now he assigned to each its captain, as Castañeda relates, and announced the other officers of the army.

Francisco Vazquez Coronado—de Coronado it is sometimes written—was captain-general of the whole force. “Who he is, what he has already done, and his personal qualities and abilities, which may be made useful in the various affairs which arise in these parts of the Indies, I have already written to Your Majesty,” writes Mendoza to the Emperor, in the letter of December 10, 1537. This previous letter is not known to exist, and there is very little to supply the place of its description of the character and antecedents of Vazquez Coronado. His home was in Salamanca,[54] and he came to America in the retinue of Mendoza in 1535. His relations with his patron, the viceroy, previous to the return of the expedition from Cibola, appear always to have been most cordial and intimate. In 1537 Coronado married Beatrice de Estrada, a cousin by blood, if gossip was true, of the Emperor, Charles V. Her father, Alonso, had been royal treasurer of New Spain. From his mother-in-law Coronado received as a marriage gift a considerable estate, “the half of Tlapa,” which was confirmed to him by a royal grant. Cortez complained that the income from this estate was worth more than 3,000 ducados, and that it had been unduly and inconsiderately alienated from the Crown. Coronado obtained also the estate of one Juan de Búrgos, apparently one of those who forfeited [p380] their land because they persisted in the unmarried state. This arrangement likewise received the royal approval.[55] When, however, “the new laws and ordinances for the Indies” came out from Spain in 1544,[56] after Coronado’s return from the northern expedition, one of the sections expressly ordered an investigation into the extent and value of the estates held by Francisco Vazquez de Coronado, since it had been reported to the King that the number of Indians held to service on these estates was very excessive. Mendoza had to answer the same charge at his visita in 1547.

Mendoza sent Coronado, in 1537, to the mines at Amatepeque, where the negroes had revolted and “elected a king,” and where they threatened to cause considerable trouble. The revolt was quelled, after some fighting, with the help of the Indians of the district. A couple of dozen of the rebels were hung and quartered at the mines or in the City of Mexico.[57]

In the following August, Coronado was legally recognized as a citizen of the City of Mexico, where he was one of three witnesses chosen to testify to the formal recognition by Cortes of the royal order which permitted De Soto to explore and conquer Florida.[58] A month later, September 7, 1538, the representative of De Soto, Alvaro de Sanjurjo, summoned Coronado himself to recognize and promise obedience to the same royal order, “as governor, as the said Sanjurjo declared him to be, of New Galicia.” Coronado readily promised his loyal and respectful obedience to all of His Majesty’s commands, but observed that this matter did not concern him at all, “since he was not governor, nor did he know that His Majesty desired to have him serve in such a position; and if His Majesty should desire his services in that position, he would obey and submit to the royal provision for him whenever he was called on, and would do what was most serviceable to the royal interests.” He adds that he knows nothing about the government of Ayllon or that of Narvaez, which were mentioned in the license to De Soto. This part of his statement can hardly have been strictly true. The answer was not satisfactory to Sanjurjo, who replied that he had received information that Coronado was to be appointed governor of New Galicia. The latter stated that he had already given his answer, and thereupon Sanjurjo formally protested that the blame for any expenditures, damages, or scandals which might result from a failure to observe the royal order must be laid at the door of the one to whom they rightfully belonged, and that they would not result from any fault or omission on the part of De Soto. Sanjurjo may have received some hint or suggestion of the intention to appoint Coronado, but it is quite certain that no definite steps had yet been taken to supplant the licentiate, De la [p381] Torre, as governor of New Galicia. Coronado’s answer shows plainly that he intentionally refused to commit himself when so many things were uncertain, and when nothing was definitely known about the country of which Cabeza de Vaca had heard. Mendoza may have suggested his appointment at an earlier date, but the King apparently waited until he learned of De la Torre’s untimely death before approving the selection. The confirmation was signed April 18, 1539, and at the same time Coronado was appointed to take the residencia of his predecessor. The King agreed to allow the new governor a salary of 1,000 ducats from the royal treasure chests and 1,500 more from the province, with the proviso that the royal revenues were not to be held responsible for this latter sum in case New Galicia proved too poor to yield so large an amount. Coronado probably went at once to his province when he received the notice of his nomination, for he was in Guadalajara on November 19, 1538, where he approved the selection of judges and magistrates for the ensuing year by the city of Compostela, which had held its election before his arrival. At the same time he appointed the judges for Guadalajara.

Coronado probably spent the winter of 1538–39 in New Galicia, arranging the administration and other affairs of his government. He entertained Friar Marcos, when the latter passed through his province in the spring of 1539, and accompanied the friar as far as Culiacan, the northernmost of the Spanish settlements. Here he provided the friar with Indians, provisions, and other things necessary for the journey to the Seven Cities. Later in the spring, the governor returned to Guadalajara, and devoted considerable attention to the improvement and extension of this city, so that it was able to claim and obtain from the King a coat of arms and the title of “city” during the following summer.[59] He was again here on January 9, 1540, when he promulgated the royal order, dated December 20, 1538, which decreed that inasmuch as it was reported that the cities in the Indies were not built with sufficient permanency, the houses being of wood and thatched with straw, so that fires and conflagrations were of frequent occurrence, therefore no settler should thereafter build a house of any material except stone, brick, or unbaked brick, and the houses should be built after the fashion of those in Spain, so that they might be permanent, and an adornment to the cities. Between these dates it is very likely that Coronado may have made some attempt to explore the mountainous regions north of the province, as Castañeda says, although his evidence is by no means conclusive.

About midsummer of 1539, Friar Marcos came back from Cibola. Coronado met him as he passed through New Galicia, and together they returned to Mexico to tell the viceroy what the friar had seen and heard. Coronado remained at the capital during the autumn and early [p382] winter, taking an active part in all the preparations for the expedition which he was to command. After the final review in Compostela, he was placed in command of the army, with the title of captain-general.

THE DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION

Monday, February 23, 1540, the army which was to conquer the Seven Cities of Cibola started on its northward march from Compostela.[60] For 80 leagues the march was along the “much-used roads” which followed the coast up to Culiacan.[61]

Everyone was eager to reach the wonderful regions which were to be their destination, but it was impossible to make rapid progress. The cattle could not be hurried, while the baggage animals and the carriers were so heavily laden with equipments and provisions that it was necessary to allow them to take their own time. Several days were lost at the Centizpac river, across which the cattle had to be [p383] transported one at a time. At Chiametla there was another delay. Here the army camped in the remains of a village which Nuño de Guzman had established. The settlers had been driven away by a pestilence caught from the Indians, and by the fierce onslaught of the natives who came down upon them from the surrounding mountains. The food supply of Coronado’s force was beginning to fail, and as the tribes hereabout were still in rebellion, it became necessary to send a force into the mountains to obtain provisions. The army master, Samaniego, who had been warden of one of the royal fortresses,[62] commanded the foraging party. The men found themselves buried in the thick underbrush as soon as they passed beyond the limits of the clearing. One of the soldiers inadvertently, but none the less in disregard of strict orders, became separated from the main party, and the Indians, who were nowhere to be seen, at once attacked him. In reply to his cries, the watchful commander hastened to his assistance. The Indians who had tried to seize him suddenly disappeared. When everything seemed to be safe, Samaniego raised his visor, and as he did so an arrow from among the bushes pierced his eye, passing through the skull. The death of Samaniego was a severe loss to the expedition. Brave and skillful, he was beloved by all who were with him or under him. He was buried in the little chapel of the deserted village. The army postponed its departure long enough to capture several natives of the district, whose bodies were left hanging on the trees in order to counteract the bad augury which followed from the loss of the first life.[63]

A much more serious presage was the arrival at Chiametla, as the army was preparing to leave, of Melchior Diaz and Juan de Saldivar, or Zaldivar, returning from their attempt to verify the stories told by Friar Marcos. Melchior Diaz went to New Galicia with Nuño de Guzman, and when Cabeza de Vaca appeared in that province, in May 1536, Diaz was in command of the outpost of Culiacan. He was still at Culiacan, in the autumn of 1539, when Mendoza directed him to take a mounted force and go into the country toward the north “to see if the account which Friar Marcos brought back agreed with what he could observe.” He left Culiacan November 17, with fifteen horsemen, and traveled as far north as the wilderness beyond which Cibola was situated, following much the same route as the friar had taken, and questioning the Indians with great care. Many of the statements made by Friar Marcos were verified, and some new facts were obtained, but nowhere could he find any foundation for the tales of a wealthy and attractive country, except in the descriptions given by the Indians. The cold weather had begun to trouble his men seriously before he reached the limit of his explorations. He pushed on as far as Chichilticalli, however, but here the snows and fierce winds from across the [p384] wilderness forced him to turn back. At Chiametla he encountered Coronado’s force. He joined the army, sending his lieutenant, Saldivar, with three other horsemen, to carry his report to the viceroy. This was delivered to Mendoza on March 20, and is embodied in the letter to the King, dated April 17, 1540.

Coronado did not allow Diaz to announce the results of his reconnoissance to the soldiers, but the rumor quickly spread that the visions inspired by Friar Marcos had not been substantiated. Fortunately, the friar was himself in the camp. Although he was now the father provincial of the Franciscan order in New Spain, he had determined to accompany the expedition, in order to carry the gospel to the savages whose salvation had been made possible by his heroic journey of the preceding spring. The mutterings of suspicion and discontent among the men grew rapidly louder. Friar Marcos felt obliged to exhort them in a special sermon to keep up a good courage, and by his eloquence he succeeded in persuading them that all their labors would soon be well repaid.

From Chiametla the army resumed its march, procuring provisions from the Indians along the way. Mendoza stated, in 1547, that he took every precaution to prevent any injury or injustice being done to the Indians at the time of Coronado’s departure, and that he stationed officials, especially appointed for this purpose, at convenient points on the road to Culiacan, who were ordered to procure the necessary provisions for the expedition. There are no means of telling how well this plan was carried into execution.

A day or two before Easter, March 28, 1540, the army approached Culiacan. The journey had occupied a little over a month, but when Coronado, from his lodging in the Cibola village of Granada, three months later, recalled the slow and tedious marches, the continual waiting for the lazy cattle and the heavily loaded baggage trains, and the repeated vexatious delays, we can hardly wonder that it seemed to him to have been a period of fourscore days’ journey.

The town of San Miguel de Culiacan, in the spring of 1540, was one of the most prosperous in New Spain. Nuño de Guzman had founded the settlement some years before, and had placed Melchior Diaz in charge of it. The appointment was a most admirable one. Diaz was not of gentle birth, but he had established his right to a position of considerable power and responsibility by virtue of much natural ability. He was a hard worker and a skillful organizer and leader. He inspired confidence in his companions and followers, and always maintained the best of order and of diligence among those who were under his charge. Rarely does one meet with a man whose record for every position and every duty assigned to him shows such uniform and thorough efficiency. The settlement increased rapidly in size and in wealth, and when Coronado’s force encamped in the surrounding fields, the citizens of the town insisted on entertaining in their own homes all of the gentlemen who [p385] were with the expedition. The granaries of the place were filled with the surplus from the bountiful harvests of two preceding years, which sufficed to feed the whole army for three or four weeks, besides providing supplies sufficient for more than two months when the expedition resumed its march. These comfortable quarters and the abundant entertainment detained the general and his soldiers for some weeks.[64] This was the outpost of Spanish civilization, and Coronado made sure that his arrangements were as complete as possible, both for the army and for the administration of New Galicia during his absence.

The soldiers, and especially the gentlemen among them, had started from Compostela with an abundant supply of luxurious furnishings and extra equipment. Many of them were receiving their first rough lessons in the art of campaigning, and the experiences along the way before reaching Culiacan had already changed many of their notions of comfort and ease. When the preparations for leaving Culiacan began, the citizens of the town received from their guests much of the clothing and other surplus baggage, which was left behind in order that the expedition might advance more rapidly, or that the animals might be loaded with provisions. Aside from what was given to the people of the place, much of the heavier camp equipage, with some of the superfluous property of the soldiers, was put on board a ship, the _San Gabriel_, which was waiting in the harbor of Culiacan. An additional supply of corn and other provisions also was furnished for the vessel by the generous citizens.

THE EXPEDITION BY SEA UNDER ALARCON

A sea expedition, to cooperate with the land force, was a part of Mendoza’s original plan. After the viceroy left Coronado, and probably while he was at Colima, on his way down the coast from Compostela, he completed the arrangements by appointing Hernando de Alarcon, his chamberlain according to Bernal Diaz, to command a fleet of two vessels. Alarcon was instructed to sail northward, following the coast as closely as possible. He was to keep near the army, and communicate with it at every opportunity, transporting the heavy baggage and holding himself ready at all times to render any assistance which Coronado might desire. Alarcon sailed May 9, 1540, probably from Acapulco.[65] [p386]

This port had been the seat of the shipbuilding operations of Cortes on the Pacific coast, and it is very probable that Alarcon’s two ships were the same as those which the marquis claimed to have equipped for a projected expedition. Alarcon sailed north to Santiago, where he was obliged to stop, in order to refit his vessels and to replace some artillery and stores which had been thrown overboard from his companion ship during a storm. Thence he sailed to Aguaiauale, as Ramusio has it, the port of San Miguel de Culiacan. The army had already departed, and so Alarcon, after replenishing his store of provisions, added the _San Gabriel_ to his fleet and continued his voyage. He followed the shore closely and explored many harbors “which the ships of the marquis had failed to observe,” as he notes, but he nowhere succeeded in obtaining any news of the army of Coronado.

THE JOURNEY FROM CULIACAN TO CIBOLA

Melchior Diaz had met with so many difficulties in traveling through the country which the army was about to enter, on its march toward the Seven Cities, and the supply of food to be found there was everywhere so small, that Coronado decided to divide his force for this portion of the journey. He selected seventy-five or eighty horsemen, including his personal friends, and twenty-five or thirty foot soldiers. With these picked men, equipped for rapid marching, he hastened forward, clearing the way for the main body of the army, which was to follow more slowly, starting a fortnight after his own departure. With the footmen in the advance party were the four friars of the expedition, whose zealous eagerness to reach the unconverted natives of the Seven Cities was so great that they were willing to leave the main portion of the army without a spiritual guide. Fortunately for these followers, a broken leg compelled one of the brethren to remain behind. Coronado attempted to take some sheep with him, but these soon proved to be so great a hindrance that they were left at the river Yaquimi, in charge of four horsemen, who conducted them at a more moderate pace.

Leaving Culiacan on April 22, Coronado followed the coast, “bearing off to the left,” as Mota Padilla says, by an extremely rough way, to the river Cinaloa. The configuration of the country made it necessary to follow up the valley of this stream until he could find a passage across the mountains to the course of the Yaquimi. He traveled alongside this stream for some distance, and then crossed to Sonora river.[66] [p387] The Sonora was followed nearly to its source before a pass was discovered. On the northern side of the mountains he found a stream—the Nexpa, he calls it—which may have been either the Santa Cruz or the San Pedro of modern maps. The party followed down this river valley until they reached the edge of the wilderness, where, as Friar Marcos had described it to them, they found Chichilticalli.[67]

Here the party camped for two days, which was as long as the general dared to delay, in order to rest the horses, who had begun to give out sometime before as a result of overloading, rough roads, and poor feed. The stock of provisions brought from Culiacan was already growing dangerously small, although the food supply had been eked out by the large cones or nuts of the pines of this country, which the soldiers found to be very good eating. The Indians who came to see him, told Coronado that the sea was ten days distant, and he expresses surprise, which Mr Bandolier has reëchoed, that Friar Marcos could have gone within sight of the sea from this part of the country.

Coronado entered the wilderness, the White Mountain Apache country of Arizona, on Saint John’s eve, and in the quaint language of Hakluyt’s translation of the general’s letter, “to refresh our former trauailes, the first dayes we founde no grasse, but worser way of mountaines and badde passages.”[68] Coronado, following very nearly the line of the present road from Fort Apache to Gila river, proceeded until he came within sight of the first of the Seven Cities. The first few days of the march were very trying. The discouragement of the men increased with the difficulties of the way. The horses were tired, and the slow progress became slower, as horses and Indian carriers fell down and died. The corn was almost gone, and as a result of eating the fruits and herbs which they found along the way, a Spaniard and some of the servants were poisoned so badly that they died. The skull and horns of a great mountain goat, which were lying on the ground, filled the Europeans with wonder, but this was hardly a sign to inspire them with hopes of abundant food and gold. There were 30 leagues of this travailing before the party reached the borders of the inhabited country, where they found “fresh grass and many nutte and mulberrie trees.”

The day following that on which they left the wilderness, the advance guard was met, in a peaceable manner, by four Indians. The Spaniards treated them most kindly, gave them beads and clothing, and “willed [p388] them to return unto their city and bid them stay quiet in their houses fearing nothing.” The general assured them that they need have no anxiety, because the newcomers had been sent by His Spanish Majesty, “to defend and ayde them.”

THE CAPTURE OF THE SEVEN CITIES

The provisions brought from Culiacan or collected along the way were now exhausted, and as a sudden attack by the Indians, during the last night before their arrival at the cities, had assured the Spaniards of a hostile reception, it was necessary to proceed rapidly. The inhabitants of the first city had assembled in a great crowd, at some distance in front of the place, awaiting the approach of the strangers. While the army advanced, Garcia Lopez de Cardenas, who had been appointed to Samaniego’s position as field-master, and Hernando Vermizzo, apparently one of the “good fellows” whose name Castañeda forgot, rode forward and summoned the Indians to surrender, in approved Castilian fashion, as His Majesty commanded always to be done. The natives had drawn some lines on the ground, doubtless similar to those which they still mark with sacred meal in their ceremonial dramatizations, and across these they refused to let the Spaniards pass, answering the summons with a shower of arrows. The soldiers begged for the command to attack, but Coronado restrained them as long as he could. When the influence of the friars was added to the pleas of the men—perhaps without waiting for the command or permission—the whole company uttered the Santiago, the sacred war cry of Saint James, against the infidels, and rushed upon the crowd of Indians, who turned and fled. Coronado quickly recalled his men from the pursuit, and ordered them to prepare for an assault on the city. The force was divided into attacking parties, which immediately advanced against the walls from all sides. The crossbowmen and harquebusiers, who were expected to drive the enemy back from the tops of the walls, were unable to accomplish anything, on account of their physical weakness and of accidents to their weapons. The natives showered arrows against the advancing foes, and as the Spaniards approached the walls, stones of all sizes were thrown upon them with skillful aim and practiced strength. The general, in his glittering armor, was the especial target of the defenders, and twice he was knocked to the ground by heavy rocks. His good headpiece and the devotion of his companions saved him from serious injury, although his bruises confined him to the camp for several days. The courage and military skill of the white men, weak and tired as they were, proved too much for the Indians, who deserted their homes after a fierce, but not protracted, resistance. Most of the Spaniards had received many hard knocks, and Aganiez Suarez—possibly another of the gentlemen forgotten by Castañeda—was severely wounded by arrows, as were also three foot soldiers.

After Nordenskiold]

The Indians had been driven from the main portion of the town, and with this success the Spaniards were satisfied. Food—“that which we [p389] needed a great deal more than gold or silver,” writes one member of the victorious force—was found in the rooms already secured. The Spaniards fortified themselves, stationed guards, and rested. During the night, the Indians, who had retired to the wings of the main building after the conflict, packed up what goods they could, and left the Spaniards in undisputed possession of the whole place.

The mystery of the Seven Cities was revealed at last. The Spanish conquerors had reached their goal. July 7, 1540, white men for the first time entered one of the communal villages of stone and mud, inhabited by the Zuñi Indians of New Mexico.[69] Granada was the name which the Spaniards gave to the first village—the Indian Hawikuh—in honor of the viceroy to whose birthplace they say it bore a fancied resemblance. Here they found, besides plenty of corn, beans and fowls, better than those of New Spain, and salt, “the best and whitest I have seen in all my life,” writes one of those who had helped to win the town. But even the abundance of food could not wholly satisfy the men whose toilsome march of more than four months had been lightened by dreams of a golden haven. Friar Marcos was there to see the realization of the visions which the zealous sermons of his brethren and the prolific ardor of rumor and of common talk had raised from his truthful report. One does not wonder that he eagerly accepted the earliest opportunity of returning to New Spain, to escape from the not merely muttered complaints and upbraidings, in expressing which the general was chief.[70]

THE EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRY

THE SPANIARDS AT ZUÑI

Some of the inhabitants of Hawikuh-Granada returned to the village, bringing gifts, while Coronado was recovering from his wounds. The general faithfully exhorted them to become Christians and to submit themselves to the sovereign over-lordship of His Majesty the Spanish [p390] King. The interview failed to reassure the natives, for they packed all their provisions and property on the following day, and with their wives and children abandoned the villages in the valley and withdrew to their stronghold, the secure fastness on top of Taaiyalone or Thunder mountain.

As soon as he was able, Coronado visited the other villages of Cibola-Zuñi, observing the country carefully. He reassured the few Indians whom he found still living in the valley, and after some hesitation on their part succeeded in persuading the chiefs to come down from the mesa and talk with him. He urged them to return to their homes below, but without success. He was more fortunate in obtaining information regarding the surrounding country, which was of much use to him in directing further exploration. Then as now the rule held good that the Indians are much more likely to tell the truth when giving information about their neighbors than about themselves.

THE DISCOVERY OF TUSAYAN AND THE GRAND CANYON

A group of seven villages, similar to those at Cibola, was reported to be situated toward the west, “the chief of the towns whereof they have knowledge.” Tucano was the name given to these, according to Ramusio’s version of Coronado’s letter, and it is not difficult to see in this name that of Tusayan, the Hopi or Moki settlements in northeastern Arizona.

As soon as everything was quiet in the Cibola country, about the middle of July, Don Pedro de Tovar was ordered to take a few horsemen and his company of footmen and visit this district. Don Pedro spent several days in the Tusayan villages, and after he had convinced the people of his peaceable designs, questioned them regarding the country farther west. Returning to the camp at Cibola within the thirty days to which his commission was limited, Tovar reported that the country contained nothing to attract the Spaniards. The houses, however, were better than those at Cibola. But he had heard stories of a mighty river and of giant peoples living toward the west, and so Don Garcia Lopez de Cardenas was instructed to go and verify these reports. Cardenas started, perhaps on August 25. He had authority for eighty days, and within this term he succeeded in reaching the Grand canyon of Colorado river, which baffled his most agile companions in their efforts to descend to the water or to discover some means of crossing to the opposite side. He returned with only the story of this hopeless barrier to exploration westward.

THE RIO GRANDE AND THE GREAT PLAINS

The first expedition toward the east was sent out August 29 in charge of Don Hernando de Alvarado. Passing the rock of Acuco or Acoma—always a source of admiration—Alvarado reached the village and river of Tiguex—the Rio Grande—on September 7. Some time was spent in [p391] visiting the villages situated along the stream. The headquarters of the party were at Tiguex, at or near the site of the present town of Bernalillo, and here a list was drawn up and sent to the general giving the names of eighty villages of which he had learned from the natives of this place. At the same time Alvarado reported that these villages were the best that had yet been found, and advised that the winter quarters for the whole force should be established in this district. He then proceeded to Cicuye or Pecos, the most eastern of the walled villages, and from there crossed the mountains to the buffalo plains. Finding a stream which flowed toward the southeast—the Canadian river, perhaps—he followed its course for a hundred leagues or more. Many of the “humpback oxen” were seen, of which some of the men may have remembered Cabeza de Vaca’s description.

On his return, Alvarado found the army-master, Garcia Lopez de Cardenas, at Tiguex, arranging winter quarters sufficient to accommodate the whole force in this region.[71] Coronado, who had made a trip to examine the villages farther south, along the Rio Grande, soon joined his lieutenants, leaving only a small force at Cibola to maintain the post. The whole of the advance party was now in Tiguex, and orders had been left at Cibola for the main body to proceed to the eastern settlements so soon as they should arrive from Culiacan and Corazones.

THE MARCH OF THE ARMY FROM CULIACAN TO TIGUEX

The main portion of the army remained at Culiacan, under the command of Don Tristan de Arellano, when the general started for Cibola with his small party of companions. The soldiers completed the work of loading the _San Gabriel_ with their surplus equipment and with provisions, and busied themselves about the town for a fortnight after the departure of their general. Some time between the first and middle of May, the army started to follow the route of the advance party. The whole force marched on foot, carrying their lances and other weapons, in order that the horses and other beasts, numbering more than six hundred, might all be loaded with provisions. It had taken Coronado and his party of horsemen, eager to push on toward their destination, more than a month to make the journey to Corazones or Hearts valley. We can only guess how much longer it took the slowly marching army to cover this first half of the distance to Cibola. The orders which the general had left with Arellano were that he should [p392] take the army to this valley, where a good store of provisions had been found by Melchior Diaz, and there wait for further instructions. Coronado promised to send for his soldiers as soon as he was sure that there was a country of the Seven Cities for them to conquer and settle.

In the valley of Corazones, which had been given its name by Cabeza de Vaca because the natives at this place offered him the hearts of animals for food, Arellano kept the soldiers busy by building a town on Suya river, naming it San Hieronimo de los Corazones—Saint Jerome of the Hearts. A small force was sent down the river to the seacoast, under the command of Don Rodrigo Maldonado, in the hope of communicating with the ships of Alarcon. Maldonado found neither signs nor news of the fleet, but he discovered a tribe of Indian “giants,” one of whom accompanied the party back to the camp, where the soldiers were filled with amazement at his size and strength.

Thus the time passed until early in September, when Melchior Diaz and Juan Gallego brought the expected orders from the general. Gallego, who carried the letter which Coronado had written from Granada-Hawikuh on August 3, with the map and the exhibits of the country which it mentions, continued on to Mexico. He was accompanied by Friar Marcos. Diaz had been directed to stay in the new town of San Hieronimo, to maintain this post and to open communication with the seacoast. He selected seventy or eighty men—those least fitted for the hardships and struggles of exploration and conquest—who remained to settle the new town and to make an expedition toward the coast. The remainder of the army prepared to rejoin their general at Cibola, and by the middle of September the start was made.

After a long, rough march, in which little occurred to break the daily monotony, the soldiers reached the pueblo settlements. The bad weather had already begun, but the men were eager to continue their journey in spite of the snow and the fierce, cold winds. After a short rest, the force proceeded to Tiguex, where comfortable quarters were awaiting them, and in these they quickly settled for the winter.

THE WINTER OF 1540–1541 ALONG THE RIO GRANDE

THE INDIAN REVOLT

The first winter spent by white men in the pueblos of New Mexico was a severe one. Fortunately for the strangers, however, they were comfortably domiciled in the best houses of the country, in which the owners had left a plentiful supply of food, and this was supplemented by the livestock brought from New Spain.

During the late autumn the Indians assumed a hostile attitude toward their visitors, and were reduced to peaceful inactivity only after a protracted struggle, which greatly aggravated the conquerors. The Spanish story of this revolt is clear—that the Indians suddenly surprised the Europeans by attacking the horses and mules of the army, killing or driving off a number of them, after which the natives [p393] collected their fighting force into two of the strongest villages, from one of which they were able to defy the soldiers until thirst compelled them to abandon the stronghold. The defenders attempted to escape by stealth, but the sentries of the besieging force discovered them and aroused the camp. Many of the Indians were killed by the soldiers during the flight which followed, while others perished in the icy waters of the Rio Grande. During an attack on the second village, a few of the Spaniards who had succeeded in making their way to the highest portion of the buildings, escaped from their perilous position by inducing the native warriors to surrender. The Indians received an ample promise of protection and safety, but the captain of the attacking party was not informed of this, and in obedience to the general’s orders that no prisoners should be taken, he directed that the captives should be burned as a warning to the neighboring tribes. This affair is a terrible blot on the record of the expedition and of those who composed it. In condemning it most severely, however, English readers should remember that they are only repeating the condemnations which were uttered by most of the men of rank who witnessed it, which were repeated in New Spain and in old Spain, and which greeted the commander when he led his expedition back to Mexico, to receive the cold welcome of the viceroy.

The Spaniards have told us only one side of the story of what was happening along the Rio Grande in the fall of 1540. The other side will probably never be heard, for it disappeared with the traditions of the Indian villagers. Without pretending to supply the loss, it is at least possible to suggest that the preparations by which the army-master procured the excellent accommodations for the force must have appeared very differently to the people in whose homes Cardenas housed the soldiers, and to those who passed the winter in these snug quarters. Castañeda preserved one or two interesting details which are as significant as is the striking fact that the peaceful natives who entertained Alvarado most freely in September were the leaders of the rebellion three months later.

As soon as Coronado’s men had completed the reduction of the refractory natives, and the whole country had been overawed by the terrible punishment, the general undertook to reestablish peaceful relations and confident intercourse between his camp and the surrounding villages. The Indians seem to have been ready to meet him almost half-way, although it is hardly surprising to find traces of an underlying suspicion, and a readiness for treacherous retaliation.

THE STORIES ABOUT QUIVIRA

While this reconciliation was being effected, Coronado heard from one of the plains Indians,[72] held as a slave in the village of Cicuye [p394] or Pecos, the stories about Quivira, which were to add so much to the geographic extent of the expedition. When the Spaniards were about to kill this Indian—“The Turk,” they called him[73]—he told them that his masters, the people of Cicuye, had induced him to lead the strangers away to the pathless plains, where water was scarce and corn was unknown, to perish there, or, if ever they should succeed in finding the way back to the village settlements, tired and weak, to fall an easy prey to their enemies.

This plan was shrewdly conceived, and it very nearly succeeded. There is little reason why we should doubt the truth of the confession, made when the Indian could scarcely have hoped to save his life, and it affords an easy explanation of the way in which the exaggerated stories of Quivira originated and expanded. The Turk may have accompanied Alvarado on the first visit to the great plains, and he doubtless told the white men about his distant home and the roving life on the prairies. It was later, when the Spaniards began to question him about nations and rulers, gold and treasures, that he received, perhaps from the Spaniards themselves, the hints which led him to tell them what they were rejoiced to hear, and to develop the fanciful pictures which appealed so forcibly to all the desires of his hearers. The Turk, we can not doubt, told the Spaniards many things which were not true. But in trying to trace these early dealings of Europeans with the American aborigines, we must never forget how much may be explained by the possibilities of misinterpretation on the part of the white men, who so often heard of what they wished to find, and who learned, very gradually and in the end imperfectly, to understand only a few of the native languages and dialects. And besides this, the record of their observations, on which the students of today have to depend, was made in a language which knew nothing of the things which it was trying to describe. Much of what the Turk said was very likely true the first time he said it, although the memories of home were heightened, no doubt, by absence and distance. Moreover, Castañeda, who is the chief source for the stories of gold and lordly kings which are said to have been told by the Turk, in all probability did not know anything more than the reports of what the Turk was telling to the superior officers, which were passed about among the common foot soldiers.[74] The present narrative has already shown the wonderful power of gossip, and when it is gossip recorded twenty years afterward, we may properly be cautious in believing it.

Coronado wrote to the King from Tiguex, on April 20, 1541, as he says in his next letter, that of October 20. The April letter, written just before the start for Quivira, must have contained a full and official account of all that had been learned in regard to the country toward [p395] the east, as well as more reliable details than we now possess, of what had happened during the preceding fall and winter. But this April letter, which was an acknowledgment and answer to one from Charles V, dated in Madrid, June 11, 1540, has not been found by modern students. When the reply was dispatched, the messenger—probably Juan Gallego, who had perhaps brought the Emperor’s letter from Mexico—was accompanied by Pedro de Tovar, who was going back to Corazones valley for reinforcements. Many mishaps had befallen the town of San Hieronimo during the year, and when the messengers arrived there they found it half deserted. Leaving Don Pedro here, Gallego hastened to Mexico, where he raised a small body of recruits. He was leading these men, whose number had been increased by some stragglers and deserters from the original force whom he picked up at Culiacan, toward Cibola and Quivira, when he met the expedition returning to New Spain. It was during this, probably his fifth trip over the road from Mexico to our New Mexico, that he performed the deeds of valor which Castañeda so enthusiastically recounts at the very end of his book.

THE JOURNEY ACROSS THE BUFFALO PLAINS

April 23, 1541, Coronado left the Tiguex country and marched toward the northeast, to the plains where lay the rich land of Quivira. Every member of the army accompanied the general, for no one was willing to be left behind when such glorious prospects of fame and fortune lay before them. A few of the officers suggested the wisdom of verifying these Indian tales in some measure before setting the whole force in motion and abandoning their only sure base of supplies. It seems as if there must have been other reasons influencing Coronado beyond those revealed in Castañeda’s narrative; but, if so, we do not know what they were. The fear lest he might fail to accomplish any of the things which had been hoped for, the absence of results on which to base a justification for all the expense and labor, the thought of what would await him if he should return empty handed, are perhaps enough to account for the determination to risk everything and to allow no possible lack of zeal or of strength to interfere with the realization of the hopes inspired by the stories of Quivira.