fingers, and raising a portion of the bone of his skull, which had been splintered by the club of a native, was forming his plans to return to Mexico and reconquer what he had lost.

"I can not believe," he wrote to the Emperor, Charles V., "that the good and merciful God will thus suffer his cause to perish among the heathen."

Upon the death of Montezuma the crown of Mexico passed to his more warlike brother, Cuitlahua. He immediately, with great vigor, fortified the city anew, and recruited and drilled his armies, now familiar with the weapons of European warfare. He sent an embassy to the Tlascalans to incite them to rise against the de

wagons, all the cannon, were either sunk in the lake or floating upon its surface, which was blackened with the canoes of the Mexicans. Not even a musket remained. As Cortez gazed upon the feeble band of exhausted, torn, and bleeding soldiers which now alone remained to him, even his stern heart was moved, and he sat down and wept bitterly. Is it revenge which leads us to rejoice that some drops of retributive woe were wrung from the heart of that guilty conqueror? He had overwhelmed a benighted nation with misery. Such a crime must not go unpunished. There is a day of final judgment. But this was no time for tears. By night and by day the discomfited and imperiled Spaniards continued their long and precipitate re-feated Spaniards, the common enemy of the treat toward the sea-shore. They were often assailed; but with their few remaining horses, their steel swords, and the mental energies which European civilization confers, they beat off their assailants, and continued their flight. Cortez, who promptly recovered from his momentary weakness, manifested the utmost sereneness and imperturbability of spirit, shared every hardship of the soldiers, and maintained their confidence in him by surpassing all in the gallantry and the magnanimity of his courage. Exhausted and wounded as they were, it required the toilsome march of a week to reach the mountain summits which encircle the great valley of Mexico.

Upon the other side of the ridge innumerable warriors had gathered from all the provinces to cut off the retreat. From an eminence the appalling spectacle suddenly burst upon the retreating Spaniards of a boundless, living ocean of armed men, with its crested billows of gleaming helmets and waving plumes. Even the heart of Cortez sank within him. It seemed certain that his last hour was now tolled. There was no possible hope but in the energies of utter despair. Cortez harangued his troops as angels of mercy, who might surely depend, in their holy mission against the heathen, on Divine protection. He succeeded, as usual, in rousing all their religious enthusiasm. Plunging upon the enemy in solid column, they cut their way through the dense, tumultuous, extended mass, as the steamer plows through opposing billows. The marvelous incidents of the fight would occupy pages. The Spanish historians record that the native army was two hundred thousand strong, and that twenty thousand fell on that bloody field. Though this is, of course, an exaggeration, it gives one an idea of the appearance of the multitude and of the carnage. At last Cortez arrived in the territory of his friendly allies, the Tlascalans. He was received with the utmost kindness, and was now safe from pursuit.

His followers were extremely anxious to return to Vera Cruz, send a vessel to Cuba for some transports, and abandon the enterprise. But this indomitable warrior, while lying upon the bed in a raging fever, while a surgeon was cutting off three of his mutilated and inflamed

whole Indian race. Cortez succeeded in inducing them to reject the proffered alliance of their ancient foes. He also succeeded in fomenting war among some of the rival provinces, and in thus turning the arms of the natives against each other.

He established his head-quarters at Tepeaca. The Spaniards, among other woes, had introduced the small-pox into Mexico. The terrible scourge now swept like a blast of destruction through the land. The natives perished by thousands. Many cities and villages were almost depopulated. It reached the Mexican capital, and the Emperor Cuitlahua fell a victim. Recruits soon arrived at the Spanish camp from Vera Cruz, with twenty horses and an abundant supply of arms and ammunition. With indefatigable diligence Cortez prepared for a new campaign. Five months had passed since the disasters of the Dismal Night, as the Spaniards ever called the midnight strife upon the causeway of the city of Mexico.

He

It was now December. Cortez, with a new army, well appointed and disciplined, with the hardy valor of the natives, guided by the skill of the Spaniards, commenced again his march for the conquest of Mexico. Guatemozin was now the monarch, a bold, energetic young man, of twenty-five years of age. The army of Cortez consisted of six hundred Spaniards, many of whom had recently arrived from Cuba. had also nine cannon. The allied army of the natives marching under his banner was estimated at over one hundred thousand. In an address to the army, Cortez exhorted the Spaniards to punish the rebels. He also declared that it was his great object to promote the glory of God by converting the heathen to the cross of Christ. Prayer was offered, mass was celebrated, and the army recommenced its crusade. Day after day they pressed unimpeded on, till again they surmounted the heights which commanded the magnificent valley. Like an avalanche the combined host of Europeans and Tlascalans poured down upon the valley where the doomed city reposed.

A series of scenes of horror ensued, at the recital of which the heart sickens. Battle succeeded battle. Cities and villages were sacked and burned, and the soil and the rivers were red

By such deeds of infamy the inhabitants of Mexico were robbed of their independence and of their country. For three hundred years the enslaved natives continued under the yoke of their conquerors. The idols of Mexico gave place to the idols of Rome. Three hundred years have passed away. The government of Spain and the religion of Spain have cursed the land. Mexico has made no progress. From all these dark storms of war and misery we can as yet see but little good which the providence of God has evolved. It is true that human sacrifices have ceased, but Mexico is still a land of darkness, ignorance, and crime. The curse has also fallen upon Spain and upon all her possessions. Is it thus that national sins are punished?

"Florida mad," and, forgetting what had already been accomplished, indulged in dreams of new discoveries under the lead of the "munificent Adelantado" that would sink into insignificance the already realized glories of Mexico and Peru.

De Soto remained some months in Cuba, where he assumed the reins of government, and indulged his followers in enacting over again the showy spectacles which had preceded his departure from Seville. At last, amidst salvoes of artillery, the waving of plumes, and a lavish display of the gorgeous ceremonies of his church, he departed for the "promised land." From this time forward his history becomes one of melancholy interest, his life a display of fruitless bravery, joined with a courage that met with no adequate reward.

In his wanderings De Soto finally reached

REMEMBRANCES OF THE MISSISSIPPI. the banks of the Mississippi, and this seems to have been his last appearance surrounded

BY T. B. THORPE.

THE excitement that prevailed in Europe as by the peaceful possession of the pomp and

circumstance of a Spanish cavalier.
cessful as had been his enterprise, up to this
moment he had never indulged the idea of
failure. Stories of the existence of great cities
and of untold treasures, somewhere in the wil-

were always confirmed by the natives immediately around him, in order to hasten his departure from their midst. As the broad, unbroken river, "more than a mile wide, and fill

the first-fruits of the discovery of America manifested themselves, can at this day be but dimly realized. The riches that seemed inexhaustible, the grandeur, the mystery, the strange people of the new continent inhabiting it, affected the imaginations of every class of society-derness, still allured him on, and these reports the mind of the civilized world was suddenly startled into wild wakefulness at the prospect of a future which had no apparent limits in its promises of wealth, and in the traditions of the past no precedents for its unfolding magnifi-ed with floating trees," rolled in silent grandeur cence. The man, however, who led the way sprung from obscurity; he had no patent of nobility from the existing sovereigns, and imperial as were admitted to be his triumphs, they were but grudgingly acknowledged, and were finally repaid by neglect and disgrace. Cortez and Pizarro, who followed Columbus in the path of glory, were also "adventurers," and depended upon their genius alone for their success. When De Soto, therefore, announced his proposed ex-ing by Christianity of the flood-tides that drain pedition to Florida, his enormous wealth, his known valor and prudence, his high standing with Charles the Fifth, and his acknowledged connection with the aristocracy of the country, gave a personal interest to his expedition in circles not before affected.

before his astonished eyes, he seemed to feel the mysterious influence of an important culminating era in his history. In the presence of thousands of gayly-dressed natives, attracted by curiosity, and for the time inspired by fear, he commemorated the event by the firing of cannon, the rejoicing of his followers, the erection of a gigantic cross, and the celebration of high mass by the attendant priests—a proper hallow

the most remarkable and richest valley of the world. The exploration of the country westward of the Mississippi only increased De Soto's misfortunes. After wandering for more than a year among interminable swamps, his followers thinned by disease and the weapons of an unre

the river his body was weakened by fever, and his great soul overcome with hopeless melancholy.

Armed with vice-regal power, De Soto estab-lenting foe, when again he reached the shores of lished a court at Seville, which, for splendor and the number of its attendants, rivaled that of the Emperor. Men of all conditions of life-many of noble birth and good estate-enrolled themselves as his followers. Houses and vineyards, gardens of olive-trees, and land devoted to tillage, were sacrificed in order to obtain military equipments. Portuguese hidalgoes, famed for brilliant exploits in the wars with the Moors, volunteered their services. The port of San Lucca of Barrameda was crowded by those who wished to embark in the enterprise. A whole year being consumed in preparations for departure, each day was distinguished by a tournament, or some costly celebration, such as had never before been witnessed in the land. Spain, with the prolonged entertainment, became

Some rude brigantines were constructed, in which De Soto and the remnant of his followers launched themselves on their way to the South. The deep mists of the river enveloped them as in a shroud, the overhanging moss of the trees waved as funeral palls, and the genial sunshine only lighted the way for the missiles of an exasperated and now triumphant foe. The hero despaired and died; and where the dark Red River mingles its “bloody-looking" waters with those of the Mississippi-where all was desolation and death-his body, amidst silence and tears, was consigned to its last restingplace, and the mighty river became at once his glory and his grave.

number of natural canals, all of which are, to the inexperienced eye, lost in the vast expanse of the Mexican Gulf. Approaching them from the sea, you first become aware of their vicinity by the appearance of floating trees, or the more strange phenomenon of vast bodies of fresh but turbid water, rolling unmingled with the green salt waves. La Salle, after a fruitless search of several weeks, missed these outlets altogether; and his colony, intended for Louisiana, established itself in Texas.

De Iberville was the first white man who ever entered "these passes" from the sea, and he was loth to believe that the almost indistin

One hundred and thirty years elapsed be- | a channel proportionate to its extent and magfore any farther attempt was made by Euro- nitude, pours its contributions to the ocean peans to explore the river. Under the auspices through three principal outlets and a great of France, Father Marquette, a missionary among the Indians, and M. Joliet, an intelligent fur-trader residing at Quebec, accomplished, to some extent, the important undertaking. When these adventurous travelers arrived at the high ridge of land which separated the waters of the north from those which flow toward the tropics, their Indian guides refused to go any farther, and endeavored to dissuade the party "from presuming on a perilous voyage among unknown and cruel nations, where they would encounter the hideous monsters which inhabited the great river, and which, rising from the boiling waves, swallowed all who ventured upon the treacherous surface." The party proceed-guishable lines of coast were all that indicated ed, however, eleven hundred miles below the mouth of the Wisconsin without meeting with any startling incident. Then it was that the difficulties of the voyage increased; the weather became intensely hot, and the insects which filled the air made life almost insupportable. Deciding to go no farther, and deeming their mission accomplished, the voyagers retraced their way homeward, and after many weeks of hard labor against the strong current, they reached the mouth of the Illinois River in safety. Finding that this gentle stream afford-velopment of the highest civilization. ed a direct and easy route to the great lakes, The details of the struggles between the the travelers soon reached their homes. The French and English for the possession of the information gained by the self-sacrificing cour-country drained by the Mississippi, are among age of these men filled New France with rejoicing. It was believed that the long-desired route to China had been discovered.

Five years later, Monsieur La Salle, a native of Normandy, and one of the most remarkable and most unfortunate men of his age, by descending the Mississippi from the Falls of St. Anthony to the Gulf of Mexico, completed the imperfect discoveries of De Soto and Marquette. The river, at its mouth, instead of possessing

that he was on the bosom of the mighty river of the West. Ascending, however, the firmer banks began to develop themselves; gigantic trees cast their dark and impenetrable shades over the landscape, and the native inhabitants appeared to greet his arrival among their solitary abodes. A new era of civilization on this continent was now inaugurated, and the incidents following, though stripped of the charms of mystery, receive the higher interest arising from witnessing, in forest wastes, the rapid de

the most thrilling chapters of our early history. "Braddock's defeat" was the last of the many signal victories which the French obtained in the contest; a series of triumphs then ensued to the British arms, which resulted in the military possession of the head-waters of the Ohio, a precursor of other victories which ended by the official acknowledgment by France of her loss of empire in America. Then followed the War of "Independence;" and, lastly, a complete tri