The Unknown River—Alarçon Ascends it Eighty-five Leagues and Names it the Rio de Buena Guia—Melchior Diaz Arrives at its Banks Later and Calls it the Rio del Tizon—Cardenas Discovers the Grand Canyon.
Having triumphed over the fierce tidal bore which renders the mouth of the Colorado dangerous, Alarçon secured a safe anchorage for his vessels and began immediate preparations for following up the river into the distant interior, both to gain a knowledge of it and to seek for information of the position of Coronado. Leaving one of his small boats for the use of those who remained in charge of the ships, he took the other two, and, placing in them some light cannon, prepared them as well as he could for any emergency that might be encountered. His party consisted of twenty soldiers, sailors, and helpers, besides his treasurer, Rodrigo Maldonado, and Gaspar de Castilleia, comptroller. Alarçon possessed the qualities of a
Native Ladies of the Lower Colorado. |
successful explorer. He was bold yet cautious, determined but not reckless, with safe judgment and quick adaptability. His first command was that, no matter what happened in case of meeting with natives, all his company were to remain silent and inactive. With this wise provision, which kept the control in his own hands, the party left the ships behind on Thursday, August 26th
1 (1540), apparently the same day as the arrival. The current was so strong that the men were obliged to tow the boats from the bank, rendering progress slow and difficult, but nevertheless they were able, before night and fatigue compelled a halt, to advance about six leagues. Though constantly on the lookout for natives in the wide barren stretches of lowland on each side of the river, none were seen till early next morning, when, soon after starting, a number of huts were discovered near the river bank. The occupants rushed forth in great excitement at the sudden appearance of these singular-looking people in their equally singular boats, and no wonder! Years and the ages had slipped away and never yet had any people but their own kind appeared on their horizon. Opposition was the natural impulse, and they signed for the Spaniards to go back, threatening attack. The effect of this on Alarçon was a command to anchor the boats out of reach in the middle of the river, though the rapidly augmenting numbers of the people on the shore soon inspired the others of the expedition with a desire to beat a retreat towards the ships. Alarçon, however, was not of this mind. The natives were, of course, armed only with the bow-and-arrow and similar primitive weapons,
cwhile the Spaniards, though few in number, possessed the advantage of firearms, of which the natives had no comprehension whatever. The interpreter, being a native from down the coast, understood not a word of this language, but the presence among the strangers of one of their own kind somewhat pacified the natives, and Alarçon did all he could by signs to express his peaceful intentions, throwing his arms to the bottom of the boat and putting his foot on them, at the same time ordering the boats to be placed nearer shore. After much manoeuvring they finally brought about some trifling intercourse and then proceeded up the river, the natives following along the shore. Repeatedly they signalled for the Spaniards to land, but Alarçon, fearful of treachery, declined, and spent the night in the middle of the stream. Nor was the appearance of the natives reassuring, for they had their faces hideously painted, some all over and others only half, while still others carried painted masks before them. In their nostrils they wore pendants, and their ears were pierced with holes wherein they hung bones and shells. Their only clothing was a sort of girdle around the waist.
One of the Cocopa Giants. Height, 6 feet, 4 inches.
The costume in early days was “nothing.”
Photograph by Delancy Gill.
Gradually, intercourse increased, and presents of trinkets seemed to incline all the natives in Alarçon’s favour. At length he discovered that they reverenced the sun, and without compunction he proclaimed that he came from that orb. This deception served him well. Henceforth no service was too great for the natives to perform for these sacred beings. Everything was placed at their disposal. Alarçon’s word was their law. They relieved the men entirely of the wearisome task of towing the boats, striving with each other for the privilege. Without this help it would have been impossible for Alarçon to have proceeded far up the river, and he fully appreciated this, though the chief reward bestowed on the helpers and all the natives was crosses made of sticks and of paper. These, he informed them by signs, were precious, and he distributed them in large numbers. The morning after he proclaimed himself as coming from the sun, many swam out to where the boat was anchored, contending for the privilege of securing the rope with which the boat was towed. “And we gave it to them,” says Alarçon, “with a good will, thanking God for the good provision which He gave us to go up the river.”
The interpreter frequently addressed the natives as he went forward, and at last, on Tuesday night, a man was discovered who understood him. This man was taken into the boat, and Alarçon, always true to his trust, asked him whether he had seen or heard of any people in the country like himself, hoping to secure some clue to Coronado. “He answered me no, saying that he had some time heard of old men that very far from that country there were other white men, and with beards like us, and that he knew nothing else. I asked him also whether he knew a place called Cibola and a river called Totonteac, and he answered me no.”
Komohoats.
A Pai Ute Boy—S. W. Nevada.
Photographed by J. K. Hillers, U. S. Geol. Sur.
Coronado meanwhile had arrived at Cibola on July 7th (or 10th) and had therefore been among the villages of the Rio Grande del Norte nearly two months. The route to these towns from the lower Colorado, that is, by the great intertribal highway of southern Arizona, followed the Gila River, destined afterwards to be traversed by the wandering trappers, by the weary gold-seeker bound for California, and finally, for a considerable distance, by the steam locomotive. But it was an unknown quantity at the time of Alarçon’s visit, so far as white men were concerned. Farther up, Alarçon met with another man who understood his interpreter, and this man said he had been to Cibola, or Cevola,2 as Alarçon writes it, and that it was a month’s journey, “by a path that went along that river.” Alarçon must now have been about at the mouth of the Gila, and the river referred to was, of course, the Gila. This man described the towns of Cibola as all who had seen them described them; that is, large towns of three-or four-storey houses, with windows on the sides,3 and encompassed by walls some seven or eight feet in height. The pueblos of the Rio Grande valley were well known in every direction and for long distances. The Apaches, harassing the villagers on every side, and having themselves a wide range, alone carried the knowledge of them to the four winds. In every tribe, too, there are born travellers who constantly visit distant regions, bringing back detailed descriptions of their adventures and the sights beheld, with which to regale an admiring crowd during the winter evenings. Their descriptions are usually fairly accurate from the standpoint of their own understanding. In this case the native gave a good description of the Cibola towns, and the Tusayan people had meanwhile given Cardenas a description of these very natives on the lower Colorado. A day or two later Alarçon received further information of Cibola, and this informant told about a chief who had four green earthen plates like Alarçon’s, except in color, and also a dog like Alarçon’s, as well as other things, which a black man had brought into the country. This black man was Estevan, who had been killed about a year before. The news of this man and his execution had travelled rapidly, showing frequent intercourse with the pueblos beyond the mountains. Still farther on he met another man who had been at Cibola, and who also told him of a great river in which there were crocodiles. This was the Mississippi, of course, and the crocodiles were alligators. As Alarçon had never seen an alligator he took the description to mean crocodile. A little farther and he heard of the negro Estevan again and the reason why the Cibolans had killed him, which was to prevent the Spaniards, whom he described, from finding their way into the Cibola country. This man also described the bison and a people who lived in painted tents in summer and in winter in houses of wood two or three storeys high. And thus the expedition continued up the river, inquiring as they went on all subjects. On September 6th the old man who had been a particular friend and interpreter was called on shore by the natives, and there was immediately an animated discussion which Alarçon discovered related to himself. Information had come from Cibola that there were there men like these Spaniards who said they were Christians. These had been warlike, and it was proposed to kill all of Alarçon’s party to prevent the others from gaining a knowledge of this country. But the old man declared Alarçon to be the son of the sun and took his part. Finally it was decided to ask him whether he were a Christian or the son of the sun. Alarçon pretended great wonder at men like himself being at Cibola, but they assured him it was true, as two men who had come from there reported that they had beards and guns and swords just the same. Alarçon still insisted that he was the son of the sun. They said the men at Cibola said the same, to which Alarçon replied that it might well be, and if so they need have no fear, for the sons of the sun would be his brothers and would treat them as he had done. This seemed to pacify them. He inquired now how far it was to Cibola, and they answered ten days through an uninhabited country, with no account of the rest of the way because it was inhabited.
Professor McGee and a Group of Cocopas.
Originally the Cocopas wore no clothing.
Photographed by Delancy Gill.Alarçon was now more than ever desirous of informing Coronado of his whereabouts, and tried to persuade some of his men to go to Cibola with a message, promising fine rewards. Only one, a negro slave, and he with reluctance, offered to attempt the journey. Alarçon tried to get the old man to give him guides and provisions, but without success, as the old man seemed to desire to induce Alarçon to help them fight their battles with the Cumanas, saying, if he would end this war, he could have their company to Cibola. Alarçon was determined to go, and sent a man back to the ships to inform those there of his purpose, but he changed his mind soon after, concluding to go to the ships himself and return, leaving there his sick, and rearranging his company. The man who had been sent to the ships overland was overtaken and brought back by the natives, but was obliged to remain with them till Alarçon came up again. The descent from here was made in two and a half days, though it had taken fifteen to come up. Arriving at the ships all was found to have gone well except a few minor accidents, and, directing repairs to be made, Alarçon turned about and started up-river once more, first calling the whole company together, telling them what he had learned of Cibola, and that, as Coronado might now have been informed by natives of his presence, he hoped to find means of reaching him. There was much objection to this plan, but he proceeded to carry it out, taking all three boats this time, loaded with “wares of exchange, with corn and other seeds, with hens and cocks of Castile.” This region he called the Province of Campanna de la Cruz, and he left orders for the building of an oratory or chapel to be named the Chapel of Our Lady de la Buena Guia. The river he called the Rio de Buena Guia (good guidance) from the motto on the viceroy Mendoza’s coat of arms. It was Tuesday, the 14th of September, when he started, taking with him Nicolas Zamorano, chief pilot, to record the latitudes. He soon arrived again among the Quicomas,4 and then among the Coamas, where he found his man who had been left behind on the first trip. This man had been so well treated that he was entirely content to remain till the party should come back down the river. This was the highest point reached on the first visit. Everywhere the people were treasuring the crosses which had been given them, kneeling before them at sunrise. Alarçon kept on up the river till he “entered between certain very high mountains, through which this river passeth with a straight channel, and the boats went up against the stream very hardly for want of men to draw the same.” From this it may be inferred that the Coamas did not strive with each other for the privilege of towing the boats of these children of the sun as those below had done. Now an enchanter from the Cumanas tried to destroy the party by setting magic reeds in the water on both sides, but the spell failed and the explorers went on to the home of the old man who had been so good a friend and guide to them. At this, Alarçon’s farthest point, he caused a very high cross to be erected, on which words were carved to the effect that he had reached the place, so that if Coronado’s men chanced to come that way they might see it. Nothing is said about burying letters, yet Diaz later mentions finding letters buried at the foot of a tree, apparently nearer the sea. Deciding that he could not at this time accomplish his purpose of opening communication with the army, Alarçon concluded to return to the ships, but with the intention of trying once more. The second day after starting down he arrived at the place where the Spaniard had remained. He told him that he had gone “above thirty leagues into the country” beyond. It had taken him, before, two and a half days to reach the river mouth from here, so that it seems he was about four days going down from his farthest point. Roughly estimating his progress at six miles an hour for twelve hours a day, in four days the distance covered would be about 288 miles. He says he went up eighty-five leagues (this would be fifty-five the first time and thirty more the second), which, counting in Mexican leagues of two and three quarter miles each, gives a distance of 233 3/4 miles, or about one hundred miles above the mouth of the Gila. This stream he does not mention. He may have taken it for a mere bayou, but it appears to be certain that he passed beyond it. He says Ulloa was mistaken by two degrees as to his northernmost point, and that he sailed four degrees beyond him. The meaning of this may be that he went four degrees beyond Ulloa’s false reckoning, or actually two degrees above the shoals where Ulloa turned back. This would take him to the 34th parallel, and would coincide with his eighty-five leagues, and also with the position of the first mountains met with in going up the river, the Chocolate range. Alarçon was not so inexperienced that he would have represented eighty-five leagues on the course of the river as equalling four degrees of latitude. Had he gone to the 36th degree he would have passed through Black Canyon, and this is so extraordinary a feature that he could not have failed to note it specially. When Alarçon arrived at the ships again, he evidently had strong reason for abandoning his intention of returning for another attempt to communicate with Coronado, and he set sail for home. Another document says the torredo was destroying the ships, and this is very probable. He coasted down the gulf, landing frequently, and going long distances into the interior searching for news of Coronado, but he learned nothing beyond what he heard on the river.
The Colorado at the Junction of the Gila.
Looking up stream—Gila right hand lower corner. Colorado about 500 yards wide.
Photographed by Delancy Gill.While he was striving to find a way of reaching the main body of the expedition, which during this time was complacently robbing the Puebloans on the Rio Grande, two officers of that expedition were marching through the wilderness endeavouring to find him, and a third was travelling toward the Grand Canyon. One of these was Don Rodrigo Maldonado, thus bearing exactly the same name as one of Alarçon’s officers; another was Captain Melchior Diaz, and the third Don Lopez de Cardenas, who distinguished himself on the Rio Grande by particular brutality toward the villagers. Don Rodrigo went in search of the ships down the river to the coast from the valley of Corazones, but obtained no information of them, though he met with giant natives and brought back with him one very tall man as a specimen. The main army of Coronado had not yet gone from this valley of Corazones, where the settlement called San Hieronimo had been established, and the best man in it reached only to the chest of this native giant.
An Arizona Landscape.
There are Navajo Gardens in the bottom of this canyon.
Photograph by E. O. Beaman.
The army moved on to another valley, where a halt was made to await orders from the general. At length, about the middle of September, Melchior Diaz came back from Cibola, with dispatches, accompanied by Juan Gallegos, who bore a message for the viceroy. In their company also was the miserable Friar Marcos, pursuing his dismal return to New Spain by direction of the general, who considered it unsafe for him to remain with the army now that the glorious bubble of his imagination had been exploded. Melchior Diaz was an excellent officer, and already had an experience in this northern region extending over some four years. It was he, also, who had been sent, the previous November, as far as the place called Chichilticalli, in an attempt to verify the friar’s tale, and had reported that the natives were good for nothing except to make into Christians. The main army, which was in command of Don Tristan de Arellano, in accordance with the orders received from Coronado, now advanced toward Cibola. Maldonado, who had been to the coast, went with it. Diaz retained eighty men, part of whom were to defend the settlement of San Hieronimo, and twenty-five were to accompany him on his expedition in search of Alarçon. He started north and then went west, following native guides for 150 leagues (412 1/2 miles) in all, and at length reached a country inhabited by giant natives who, in order to keep warm in the chill autumn air, carried about with them a firebrand. From this circumstance, Diaz called the large river he found here the Rio del Tizon. This was the Buena Guia of Alarçon. The natives were prodigiously strong, one man being able to lift and carry with ease on his head a heavy log which six of the soldiers could not transport to the camp. Here Diaz heard that boats had come up the river to a point three days’ journey below, and he went there to find out about it, doubtless expecting to get on the track of Alarçon. But the latter had departed from the mouth of the river at least two or three weeks before; one writer says two months.5 The same writer states that Diaz reached the river thirty leagues above the mouth, and that Alarçon went as far again above. This coincides very well with Alarçon’s estimate of eighty-five leagues, for Diaz did not follow the windings of the stream as Alarçon was forced to do with his boats. At the place down the river, Diaz found a tree bearing an inscription: “Alarçon reached this point; there are letters at the foot of this tree.” Alarçon does not, as before noted, mention burying letters, and these were found at the foot of a tree, so that Diaz evidently failed to reach the cross erected at Alarçon’s highest point.
Cocopa Tule Raft.
Photograph by Delancy Gill.
Diaz now proceeded up the river again, looking for a place where he could safely cross to explore the country on the opposite side. After ascending from the spot where he found the letters for five or six days, he concluded they could cross by means of rafts. In the construction of these rafts he invited the help of the natives of the neighbourhood. He was probably up near the Chocolate Mountains and the Cumanas, who were hostile to Alarçon, and whose sorcerer had attempted to destroy him by means of the magic reeds. They had been merely waiting for an opportunity to attack Diaz, and they perceived their chance in this assistance in crossing the river. They readily agreed to help make the rafts, and even to assist in the crossing. But while the work was in progress a soldier who had gone out from the camp was surprised to observe a large number of them stealing off to a mountain on the other side. When he reported this, Diaz caused one of the natives to be secured, without the others being aware of it. He was tortured till he confessed that the plan was to begin the attack when some of the Spaniards were across the river, some in the water, and the others on the near bank. Thus separated they believed they could easily be destroyed. The native, as a reward for this valuable confession, was secretly killed, and that night, with a heavy weight tied to him, was cast into the deep water. But the others evidently suspected the trick, for the next day they showered arrows upon the camp. The Spaniards pursued them and by means of their superior arms soon drove them into the mountains. Diaz was then able to cross without molestation, his faithful Amerind allies of another tribe assisting.
Alarçon had conveyed in his letters the nature of the gulf and coast, so Diaz struck westward to see what he could find in that direction. The country was desolate and forbidding, in places the sand being like hot ashes and the earth trembling. Four days of this satisfied them, and the captain concluded to return to San Hieronimo. The subsequent fate of Diaz is another illustration of how a man may go the world round, escaping many great dangers, and then be annihilated by a simple accident that would seem impossible. A dog belonging to the camp pursued the little flock of sheep that had been driven along to supply the men with meat, and Diaz on his horse dashed toward it, at the same time hurling a spear. The spear stuck up in the ground instead of striking the dog, and the butt penetrated the captain’s abdomen, inflicting, under the conditions, a mortal wound. The men could do nothing for him except to carry him along, which for twenty days they did, fighting hostile natives all the time. Then he died. On the 18th of January they arrived without their leader at the settlement from which they had started some three months before.
The Grand Canyon from Bright Angel Hotel.
12 miles to opposite rim.
Total depth here between 5000 and 6000 feet.
Photograph by Hall.
Cardenas with twelve men had meanwhile gone from Cibola to a place called Tusayan, or Tucano, situated some twenty or twenty-five leagues north-westerly from Cibola, from whence he was to strike out toward the great river these natives had described to Don Pedro de Tobar, who recently had paid them a visit, and incidentally shot a few of them to invite submission. Cardenas was kindly received by the people of Tusayan, who readily supplied him with guides. Having lived in the country for centuries, they of course knew it and the many trails very well. They knew the highway down the Gila to the Colorado, and they told Cardenas about the tall natives living in the lower part of it, the same whom Alarçon and Diaz had met. In the direction in which Cardenas was to go they said it was twenty days’ journey through an unpopulated country, when people would again be met with. After the party had travelled for twenty days they arrived at a great canyon of the Colorado River, apparently not having met with the people mentioned. If Cardenas started from the Moki towns, as has generally been believed, where would he have arrived by a journey of twenty days, when an able-bodied man can easily walk to the brink of Marble Canyon from there in three or four days? Why did the guides, if they belonged in the Moki towns, conduct Cardenas so far to show him a river which was so near? The solution seems to be that he started from some locality other than the present Moki towns. That is to say, there has been an error, and these Moki towns are not Tusayan. Where Cardenas reached the great canyon the river came from the north-east and turned to the south-south-west. There are but two places where the canyoned river in Arizona conforms to this course, one at Lee’s Ferry, and the other the stretch from Diamond Creek to the Kanab Canyon. The walls being low at Lee’s Ferry, that locality may be excluded, for where Cardenas first looked into the canyon it was so deep that the river appeared like a brook, though the natives declared it to be half a league wide. Three of the most agile men, after the party had followed along the rim for three days hunting for a favourable place, tried to descend to the water, but were unable to go more than one-third of the way. Yet from the place they reached, the stream looked very large, and buttes that from above seemed no higher than a man were found to be taller than the great tower of Seville. There can be no doubt that this was the gorge we now call the Grand Canyon. No other answers the description. Cardenas said the width at the top, that is, the “outer” gorge with its broken edge, was three or four leagues or more in an air line.6 This is the case at both great bends of the river. The point he reached has usually been put, without definite reason, at about opposite Bright Angel River, say near the letter “L” of the word “Colorado” on the relief map, page 41 op., but here the river comes from the south-east and turns to the north-west, directly the reverse of what Cardenas observed. The actual place then must have been about midway of the stretch referred to, that is, near the letter “A” of the word “Canon” on the relief map. Where he started from to arrive at this part of the canyon cannot be discussed here for want of space, but the writer believes the place was some three hundred miles south-east, say near Four Peaks on the new Mexican line.7 Cardenas was, therefore, guided along the southerly edge of the great Colorado Plateau, through the superb Coconino Forest, where he had wood, water, and grass in abundance. The locality he reached was very dry, and they were obliged to go each night a long distance back from the brink to procure water. For this reason, Cardenas gave up trying to follow the canyon, and returned again, by way of Tusayan, to Cibola, passing on the way a waterfall, which possibly was in the Havasupai (Cataract) Canyon. Castañeda, the chief chronicler of the Coronado expedition, says the river Cardenas found was the Tizon, “much nearer its source than where Melchior Diaz crossed it,” thus showing that its identity was well surmised, if not understood, at that time. Nothing, however, was known of its upper course; at least there is no evidence of any such knowledge, though the natives had doubtless given the Spaniards some information regarding it. The special record of the Cardenas expedition was kept by one Pedro de Sotomayor, but it has apparently never been seen in modern times. It is probably in the archives of Spain or Mexico, and its discovery would throw needed light on the location of Tusayan and the course Cardenas followed.8 The distance of this whole region from a convenient base of supplies, and its repellent character, prevented further operations at this period, and when these explorers traced their disappointed way homeward, the Colorado was not seen again by white men for over half a century; and it was more than two hundred years before European eyes again looked upon the Grand Canyon.
Coronado proceeded eastward to about the western line of Missouri, and, finding colonisation anywhere in the regions visited out of the question, he returned in 1542 to Mexico, with his entire army excepting a couple of padres.
1Hakluyt gives "25th,” but it is a misprint, as this Thursday in 1540 was the 26th.
2The old Spaniards used “v” and “b” interchangeably, so that Cibola and Cevola would be pronounced the same. Other letters were used in the same loose way.
3Windows on the sides of the houses, not of the walls, as one writer has put it. The villages of the lower part of New Mexico had these walls of circumvallation, but to the northward such walls appear to have been rare.
4The tribes and bands spoken of by Alarçon cannot be identified, but these Quicomas, or Quicamas, were doubtless the same as the Quiquimas mentioned by Kino, 1701, and Garces, 1775. They were probably of Yuman stock. The Cumanas were possibly Mohaves.
5Relacion del Suceso. Alarçon must have reached his highest point about October 5th or 6th, and the ships on the return about the 10th. Diaz probably arrived at the river about November 1st.
6A las barrancas del rio que puestos a el bado [lado?] de ellas parecia al otro bordo que auia mas de tres o quatro leguas por el ayre.”—Castaneda, in Winship’s monograph. Fourteenth Ann. Rep. Bureau of Ethnology, p. 429.
7For the author’s views on Coronado’s route see the Bulletin of the American Geographical Society, December, 1897. Those views have been confirmed by later study, the only change being the shifting of Cibola from the Florida Mountains north-westerly to the region of the Gila. See map p. 115, Breaking the Wilderness.
8It may be noted here with reference to the location of Cibola, Tiguex, Tusayan, etc., that too much heretofore has been assumed. The explanations presented are often very lame and unsatisfactory when critically examined. So many writers are now committed to the errors, on this subject that it will be a hard matter to arrive at the truth.
