De Soto Slept Here

Several Spanish expeditions trekked through North and South Carolina in the sixteenth century. The first was led by Hernando de Soto who landed in Florida in 1539 and who proceeded northward through Georgia and into the Carolinas by 1540. I suspect that many of you are like me in that you would like to follow the path taken by de Soto so many hundreds of years ago. But wiser men and women have tried and failed to determine this path. One anthropology professor who has studied the original Spanish texts and compared them with the actual terrain, has concluded that “not a single spot along the route can be ascertained with absolute certainty.” Meaning that, there are no “no-kidding-the-Spanish-actually-stood-on-this-exact-spot” places yet established in the Carolinas. Thus, despite all those state historical markers claiming that de Soto passed nearby, it’s still just guesswork. But there are tantalizing clues. Hernando de Soto sailed from Havana to Tampa Bay, in Florida, in May of 1539. His small army consisted of 600 conquistadors, and several tailors, shoemakers, farriers, and trumpeters. He also transported hundreds of pigs, horses and a number of war dogs. De Soto’s goal was to find in the southeast the kind of treasure found by Cortez with the Aztecs in 1521, and by Pizarro with the Incas in 1532. De Soto had served as a lieutenant in Pizarro’s army and he had seen how the Incan gold and silver had made the invading Spaniards spectacularly wealthy. De Soto intended to deprive the Southeast’s indigenous population of the wealth he thought they possessed—by force if force proved necessary. But first he had to find these riches. De Soto’s route in the Carolinas was first officially reconstructed by the De Soto Commission, created in 1935 by the federal government. President Roosevelt appointed a group of scholars to sit on the commission and Smithsonian anthropologist John R. Swanton to lead the group. Studying the original reports of individuals accompanying de Soto, Swanton’s group determined that de Soto traveled up the far western edge of South Carolina, entering North Carolina around present-day Highlands, on the Jackson-Macon

County line. Then de Soto turned directly west and passed through the extreme southwestern part of North Carolina—by the present-day towns of Franklin, Andrews, Marble and Murphy—until he entered Tennessee following the banks of the Hiwassee River. This estimated route must have served as the basis for the eight state historical markers in North Carolina that all proclaim the proximity of de Soto’s route. These de Soto historical markers are located in Jackson, Macon, Cherokee and Clay counties and each proclaim, maybe erroneously (see discussion below), that de Soto’s expedition “passed near here.” Questions and disagreements with the De Soto Commission Report arose soon after its publication in 1939. In the 1980s, Professors Charles M. Hudson and Chester DePratter took a fresh look at the primary source material and the archaeological evidence that had accumulated since Swanton’s investigation. Hudson and DePratter decided de Soto’s true route lay far to the northeast of what the de Soto Commission had plotted. Their proposed route lay east of Columbia, South Carolina, following the course of the Wateree River, passing near present-day Camden (de Soto’s Cofitachequi town) and entering North Carolina near present-day Gastonia. Their route then followed the Catawba River to present day Hickory (maybe de Soto’s Guaquili town and Pardo’s Guaquiri town), and then turned west past present-day Morganton and Marion (maybe de Soto’s Xuala town and Pardo’s Joara town). According to Hudson and DePratter, de Soto then marched along an old Indian Trail through Swannanoa Gap and Swannanoa Valley to camp near present-day Asheville—at a Native American village called Tocae. De Soto then followed the French Broad River past present-day Marshall (maybe de Soto’s Guasili town and Pardo’s Cauchi town) and Hot Springs until the river crossed into Tennessee. Another writer, claiming to be relying on “the most recent and, to my mind, the most reliable reconstructions of the route,” states that from Morganton, de Soto went to the northwest instead of toward Marion. According to this proposal, de Soto followed the route of present-day N.C. 181 to pass by Linville Falls, the Avery County town of Ingalls, and then to the confluence of the North Toe River and the Cane River—where the two converge to form the Nolichucky River. After spending the night at this location in late May of 1540, de Soto’s army then followed the Nolichucky River into Tennessee. And on the internet you can find even another version of de Soto’s route. This one has de Soto passing directly through present-day Columbia, South Carolina, proceeding through present-day Spartanburg, and entering North Carolina near present-day Tryon. According to this account, Tryon is de Soto’s Xuala Town. De Soto then went by present-day Hendersonville and then north to Asheville (de Soto’s Guaxule town according to this account). The path then led due west, by present-day Fontana Lake and into Tennessee along the banks of the Little Tennessee River. And, finally, I will not neglect the opinion of my favorite source, the WPA Guide to the Old North State, which researched and documented oral histories in North Carolina in the 1930s. The WPA Guide describes Skyline Drive which runs along the North Carolina-Tennessee border in the Great Smokies National Park, from Newfound Gap to Clingman’s Dome. At the 1.7 mile point from Newfound Gap is Indian Gap—which served as the main gap through the Smokies for an ancient Indian trail. The WPA Guide reports: “Tradition is that De Soto and his band crossed Indian Gap in 1540.” So we have at least three different proposed locations for de Soto’s passage from South Carolina into North Carolina, and five different proposed locations for de Soto’s passage from North Carolina into Tennessee. When the experts disagree so dramatically on de Soto’s precise route, what are the earnest avocationalists, like me and you, to do? What should guide us on our weekend jaunts when we seek to stand on the spot where de Soto once stood and survey the scene that he once surveyed? Well … anecdotes, local legend and tantalizing clues, of course. We must consult the unofficial, unsubstantiated, unapproved body of evidence that waits for us to discover and organize into a coherent whole. Or at least a plausible and enjoyable, albeit not proveable, hypothesis. And such evidence abounds. Although I’ve never seen it, there is supposed to be a 450 year old Spanish petroglyph high up on the side of Whiteside Mountain—drive U.S. 64 between Highlands and Cashiers, turn south on Whiteside Mountain Road and proceed one mile to the parking

area for the two mile loop trail that goes along the ridge of Whiteside Mountain. It is said that in the 1950s would-be developers of this area discovered a Spanish inscription at the Devil’s Courthouse area of the mountain. The letters in the inscription, said to be two inches high and a quarter-inch deep, read: “T.T. Un Luego Santa Ala Memoria.” Some say that the carving was made by one of de Soto’s men in 1540, and that de Soto’s expedition may have followed the old Indian path that ascended Whiteside Mountain from Whiteside Cove on its way westward. A University of North Carolina archaeology professor once told me, somewhat enigmatically, that he had “no direct knowledge” of this inscription but that he “strongly suspect[ed] that it either does not exist or is a hoax.” And there are some old mine shafts—probably originally dug and used by Native Americans both before and after 1540—that contained some artifacts and other evidence that indicated to some that 16th century Spaniards carried out extensive mining at the sites. In the Sink Hole Mine near the little town of Bandana in Mitchell County, and in Tomotla—near Murphy in Cherokee County—mining operations in the mid to late 1800s uncovered remains of old shafts, tunnels and tools believed to have been used by de Soto and his Spaniards when they passed through the region in search of gold. It is said that old pickaxes, cannon barrels, and coin molds were also found. Some of these items may still be in the hands of private collectors. Amateur archaeologists and private collectors have played a role in the de Soto research over the years. It is reported that in some private collections of artifacts, there are glass trading beads that date from the 16th century—and that these beads were originally gathered from the Peachtree Mound site in Cherokee County near Murphy. This supports Swanton’s proposed path, as Swanton suggests that Peachtree Mound is the site of Guasili Town—a Native American village that was described in one of the de Soto chronicles as having such a mound. Then there is the stone with a chiseled Spanish inscription that was found in a farmer’s field in central South Carolina—that is now displayed in a local museum. And near a confirmed Native American village site on one of the proposed routes, excavators found a small, decomposed artifact which some have claimed was a piece of chain mail. Surely there is more to be discovered in the accumulated earth and mud of the Carolinas—but such artifacts may never establish with certainty the true paths of the Spaniards. But, after all this uncertainty and contradiction, I do have my own idea on where de Soto—no-kidding—actually stood at least once in 1540. Mind you, I have no proof—but it seems like a good guess. I have read several reports that the local tradition in Rutherford, Henderson and Buncombe Counties, is that de Soto and his expedition marched past present-day Lake Lure, up Hickory Nut Gorge, past present-day Chimney Rock and Bat Cave, to cross through Hickory Nut Pass, on the way to the Swannanoa Valley and present-day Asheville. An authority no less than the WPA Guide (which relied— as I’ve said—on interviews and oral histories for its information) implies that de Soto passed through present-day Rutherfordton and followed the route of U.S. 74 into Hickory Nut Gorge and ultimately over Hickory Nut Gap. This route was an ancient trail leading up to the plateau (Swannanoa Gap was another) and so is a plausible path for de Soto to have taken. But the most compelling reason to believe that de Soto marched this way is simply the appeal of Hickory Nut Gap itself. It is narrow, well-defined and, except for the asphalt road now topping the gap, it must look much like it did 450 years ago. If de Soto followed the trail up Hickory Nut Gorge then he surely stood in the very spot you are standing—if you have made the trip to Hickory Nut Gap and are standing in the cleft. Beyond a reasonable doubt? Nah. But, you know, it could be … and it is a great little gap. Postscript: After leaving the Carolinas, de Soto and his army traveled on through Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi, battling the natives and failing to find the riches they sought. De Soto himself never returned to Cuba or to Spain, instead dying of fever on the banks of the Mississippi River in 1542. The surviving members of his expedition—ultimately numbering only 311—straggled to rescue in Mexico in the summer of 1543. De Soto is often described as the “scourge of the Southeast,” for his barbarous treatment of the Native Americans he encountered during his travels. But it is also suggested that greater damage was caused by the Spaniards’ introduction of

new diseases, like influenza, whooping cough, and smallpox, to the unprotected Native Americans. The archaeological evidence does indicate that the indigenous peoples of the Southeast suffered rapid depopulation in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. For more on the Spanish expeditions in the Carolinas, see: • Charles M. Hudson, The Juan Pardo Expeditions (Smithsonian Institution, 1990): “We … discovered why the Soto route had proven so difficult to reconstruct. By themselves, the narratives of the Soto expedition do not contain enough precise information to allow one to plot the route on a map. … [But Juan] Pardo had visited at least five of the same towns visited by Soto. Obviously, if we could figure out where Pardo went, we should have what no previous Soto scholar possessed—independently located towns in the interior.” • Robin A. Beck, Jr., From Joara to Chiaha: Spanish Exploration of the Appalachian Summit Area, 1540-1568, Southeastern Archaeology, 16(2) Winter 1997, pages 162-168: outlines the Nolichucky River route. • H. Trawick Ward & R. P. Stephen Davis, Jr., Time Before History: The Archaeology of North Carolina (University of North Carolina Press, 1999), pages 260-267; see map of proposed routes at page 230. After a review of both the Swanton and Hudson proposed routes and the related archaeological evidence, the authors conclude: “What all this means is that the precise routes of the de Soto and Pardo expeditions through North Carolina may never be established with certainty. The existing documentary records are too vague and will always be subject to different interpretations.” • Timothy Silver, Mount Mitchell & the Black Mountains (University of North Carolina Press, 2003), pages 48-55. • Douglas L. Rights, The American Indian in North Carolina (John F. Blair, 1957), pages 6-9.