Standing in the March snows of 1542 just below the White River crossing at St. Charles, one of Hernando de Soto's officers reported, "As soon as it stopped snowing, he marched three days (at 10 miles per day - while gathering what he could to eat) through an unpeopled region and a land so low and with so many swamps and such hard going that one day he marched all day through water that in some places reached to the knees and others to the stirrups, and some passages were swum over (Uncle Ben's Rice Company is headquartered in that swamp, a massive rice field today) © 1993, Univ. of Alabama Press.

"He came to a deserted village, without corn called Tutelpinco (Arkansas Post; the French would find it and establish an outpost there 141 years later). Near it was a lake which emptied into the river (either the White or Mississippi) and had a strong current and force of water..." Dismal Swamp connects to the White, Mississippi and Arkansas Rivers there, making it look like a lake. It looks that way in March because the Arkansas River, fed by early snow runoff from the Ozark Mountains, floods earlier than the Mississippi River - causing the southward water flow through Dismal Swamp to reverse course into the White River. When the Mississippi River floods in June, the flow through Dismal Swamp returns to southbound, into the Arkansas River. The water recedes in summer and Dismal becomes a Swamp again. The French selected Arkansas Post because America's great rivers' waters (those of the Mississippi, Ohio, Missouri, Tennessee, Cumberland, Illinois, Wabash, Arkansas and White Rivers) all flow past it. The French traded by canoe on those rivers, as did America's Natives before them from the same place.

"As five Christians, accompanied by a captain whom the governor had sent, were crossing it (The Arkansas River just below Arkansas Post) in a canoe, the canoe overturned. Some caught hold of it and others of trees which were in the lake. One (man) was drowned there. The governor went (west) for a day along the lake looking for a crossing place, but he did not find it all that day nor any road leading from any other direction (the Arkansas River can get very wide in March). Returning at night to the town, he found two peaceful Indians who showed him the crossing and the road he must take (over submerged but shallow ground). Reed frames and rafts were made from the houses, on which they crossed the lake (and, thereby, the Arkansas River). They marched for three days and reached a town of the district of Nilco, called Tianto..." Tyro, the nearest high ground to Arkansas Post. They would stop at Dumas and at Bayou Bartholomew, cross that bayou, which looks like big creek, then ascend into Tyro, which overlooks hundreds of thousands of fertile acres below. "...we arrived at a province that seamed to us to be the best that we had come upon in all the land (of North America), which is called Anicoyanque." Others with DeSoto simply called it "Nilco."

"Thirty Indians were captured there, among them being two of the principal men of the town. The governor sent a captain on ahead to Nilco (Village) with horse and foot (probably on a dawn raid under the Full Moon of March 31, 1542), so that the Indians might not have any opportunity to carry off the food. They went through three of four large towns (in those hills, including today's Coleman), and in the town where the chief lived - located two leagues (5 miles) from where the governor remained (at Tyro; Nilco is shown on the map) - they found many Indians with their bows and arrows, and in appearance as if they wished to give battle, and who were surrounding the town (to defend the long, natural, high ground which was their village on that plain). As soon as they saw the Christians were coming toward them (from the west, down the hill from Coleman, the highest point of land in that area), without any hesitation they set fire to the chiefs house and escaped over a swamp that lay near the town, where the horses could not cross (just east of Nilco's spectacular plain lies Touchstone Prairie, once an enormous swamp but drained and borrowed into a lake today; it flows east through Prairie Creek toward Bartholomew Bayou). Next day, Wednesday, March 29, the governor reached Nilco (5 miles from Tyro where he was camped). He lodged with all his men in the chiefs town which was located on a level field, and which was all populated for a quarter of a league (three-quarters of a mile along its long, natural high ground); while a league and a half distant (four miles) were other very large towns where there was a quantity of corn, beans, walnuts, and dried plums." We call that area Florence today, the villages ran east to Tillar where DeSoto would relocate his main camp in order to pasture his horses. Both Nilco and Florence sit near the edge of the high ground overlooking hundreds of thousands of acres of farmlands along Bartholomew Bayou, some of the richest meadowland in Arkansas. Tillar, where DeSoto made camp, sits near the center of that giant pasture. "This was the most populous region which had been seen in Florida (North America) and more abounding in corn, with the exception of Coosa (Fort Payne, Alabama) and Apalache (Marianna, Florida)."

"An Indian came to the camp (at Tillar), accompanied by others, and in the chief's name presented the governor with a blanket of martin skins and a string of pearl beads... He promised to return two days later, but he never did. On the other hand, Indians came in canoes at night and carried off all the corn they could and set up their huts on the other side of the river (Bayou Bartholomew) in the thickest part of the forest (in the hills overlooking Tillar; the Indians knew that horses, their worst enemy, were worthless in forests: the Indians simply tripped them up with logs and ropes between the trees along the trails). The governor, on seeing that the Indian did not come at the promised time, ordered and ambush to be made on some barbecues (stilted corn storage bins) in the swamp (from which) the Indians came for the corn...."

...Two Indians were captured there, who told the governor that the one who came to visit them was not the chief, but one sent at the latter's command under pretense that it was he, in order to ascertain whether the Christians were off their guard, and whether they planned to settle in that region or go on farther. Thereupon the governor sent a captain across the river (back to Nilco, across Bayou Bartholomew) with men of horse and (soldiers) of foot, but on crossing they were perceived by the Indians, and for that reason, the captain could not capture more than 10 or 12 Indians, men and women, with whom he returned to the camp. That river which flowed through Nilco (Province, which started at St. Charles) was the same that flowed through Cayas (Branson, Missouri) and Autiamque (Jacksonport, Arkansas; we call it the White River) and emptied into the large (Mississippi) river which flowed through Pacaha (Terre Haute, Indiana; we call that one the Wabash) and Aquixo (Evansville, Indiana; that one we call the Ohio River; all of which flow into the Mississippi, called the Great River by Native Americans) and hard by the province of Guachoya (Lake Village, just below Nilco)..." That province ran from Tillar, on the north, to Fairview and Louisiana on the south, inside of which DeSoto was camped at the time.

According to Guachoya's people, their province existed between Bayou Bartholomew, or Boeuf River beside it, and the Mississippi River; today that part of the Mississippi River is the largest lake in Arkansas: Lake Chicot. The river's flow was diverted from it, just below Greenville, Mississippi, sometime before Arkansas Statehood. "The Lord of the upper part (of Guachoya Province) came in canoes (from Lake Village, his home) to make war on the lord of Nilco (his closest neighbor). Sent by him, an Indian (first) came to the governor and told him that he (the chief of Guachoya Province) was his servant and as such he (DeSoto) should consider him that... two days later (while the chief canoed first down the Mississippi River then up Ditch Bayou and Boeuf River and other creeks to meet DeSoto) he would come to kiss the hands of his Lordship. He came at the time with some of his principal Indians who accompanied him (for a dramatic waterborne entrance to DeSoto's dismal but bountiful campsite). With words of great promise and courtesy, he presented many blankets and deer skins to the governor. The governor gave him some trifles (typically a mirror and comb, scarce commodities in those parts) and showed him great honor (typically a demonstration of horse and swordsmanship; the Indians usually joined in by demonstrating their incredible archery skills). He questioned him about a settlement down the river. He said that he knew of none other except his own (Lake Village/Fairview); and that on the other side of the (Mississippi) river was a province of a chief called Quigaltam (Greenville, Mississippi; who was subject to another chief who lived at Vicksburg, as DeSoto's people would discover a year later). He (Chief Guachoya) took his leave of the governor and returned to his town.

A few days later (when food supplies started diminishing due to Nilco's midnight raids on DeSoto's Tillar campsite), the governor made up his mind to go to Guachoya (Lake Village; he planned to take that city during the darkness of New Moon), in order to ascertain there whether the sea (the Gulf of Mexico) were nearby, or whether there were any settlement nearby where he might subsist himself while brigantines were built which he intended to send to the land of Christians (DeSoto departed Tillar southbound, passed through McGehee, then spent the night near Dermott). As he was crossing the River of Nilco (Boeuf River/Bayou Macon or thereabouts), Indians came up in canoes from Guachoya, and when they saw him, thinking that he was going after them to do them some hurt (as he was widely reputed to do), they turned back down the river and went to warn the chief. The latter, abandoning the town (of Lake Village) with all of his people, with all they could carry off, on that night crossed over to the other side of the great river (Lake Chicot today). The governor sent a captain and 50 men in 6 canoes down the river, while he, with the rest of his men, went overland (down the shore of Lake Chicot on the Indian trail that led toward Greenville; a city which DeSoto's scouts sighted across the Mississippi River). He reached Guachoya on Sunday, April 17th and lodged himself in the chief's town, which was surrounded by a stockade, a crossbow flight from the (Mississippi) river..." Lake Chicot, today. Lake Village would be the end of the line for Hernando the "Great".

"As soon as the governor reached Guachoya, he sent Juan de Anasco (his most trusted captain) up the river (north) with as many men as could get into the (Indian) canoes (which were procured at Lake Village); for when they (the soldiers) were coming from Nilco, they (the scouts) saw newly made huts on the other side (of the Mississippi River; Greenville, Mississippi)... they brought back canoes laden with corn, beans, dried plums, and many loaves made from the pulp of plums..." for which the Spaniards would pay dearly the following year.

The first officer continued, "On that day, an Indian came to the governor in the name of the chief of Guachoya (of Lake Village, whose house DeSoto happened to be living in at the time) and said that his lord would come next day. On the following day, they saw many canoes coming from downstream (the south). They assembled together for the space of an hour on the other side of the great river (today's Lake Chicot), debating as to whether they should come or not. At last they made up their minds and crossed... He (DeSoto) asked him (the chief) whether he had any knowledge of the sea (the Gulf of Mexico). He said he did not, nor of any settlement down the river from that place, except that there was a town of one of his principal Indians subject to him two leagues away (5 miles, we call it Fairview; the chief had just come from there), and on the other side (of the Mississippi River) three days' journey downstream (by Indian canoe), the province (and hometown) of Quigaltam, who was the greatest lord of that region (he lived at Vicksburg). It seemed to the governor that the chief was lying to him in order to turn him (toward that place and) aside from his towns, and he sent Juan de Anasco downstream with eight horse to see what population there was and to ascertain whether there were any knowledge (among the downstream Indians) of the sea." That scouting party's departure was timed for Full Moon at journey's mid-way.

DeSoto's men reported to an historian of their day, "Meanwhile the chief of Guachoya persuaded the governor to return to the province of Nilco, offering to go with his men to serve his lordship, and to facilitate the crossing of the River of Nilco (Bayou Bartholomew) he ordered 80 large canoes, besides other small ones, to be taken seven leagues (18 miles) down the Great (Mississippi) River to the mouth of the River of Nilco (Boeuf River), which entered the Great River (at Ditch Bayou just below Fairview: we call these many bayous by different names, the Indians did not). They would ascend it to the village of Nilco (the same way the chief had gone when he first sighted DeSoto at Tillar). The whole route that the canoes would have to go by both rivers would be about 20 leagues (52 miles) of navigation. While the canoes were descending the Great River and ascending the River of Nilco they (some of DeSoto's army) would go by land, so that they could all arrive together at the village of Nilco at the same time." DeSoto needed the provisions which Nilco's Indians had carried away, into Touchstone Swamp from their main village near Coleman and over Bayou Bartholomew from Tillar, if he was to feed his horses and army during the time it would take to build boats at Lake Village. Chief Guachoya, on the other hand, simply wanted Chief Nilco's head. "As soon as all was prepared and they brought the canoes, the governor ordered (a) company (to) go (with) them to direct and give orders to four thousand Indian warriors who were embarking in them (the historian who wrote this had a flair for drama, which, as does that flair today, sold many books). (They) carried their bows and arrows... (Chief Guachoya and DeSoto) allowed them a period of three full days for their navigation, which seemed time enough for both parties to arrive and join one another at the village of Nilco." They joined near Tillar then raided Nilco. Booty, including that which had been lost by Guachoya in skirmishes with Nilco over the proceeding years, was brought back to Lake Village in the canoes. Nilco and his people were slaughtered; their villages burned to the ground. DeSoto's people would return the following winter and find little left of Nilco. Guachoya probably cleaned it out, even more completely, once Desoto's army was gone.

The officer mentioned above continued his description of Anasco's journey down the Great River in search of the sea, "He was gone for a week (the time it took for the raid on Nilco) and on his coming said that during that whole time he could not proceed more than 14 or 15 leagues (about 38 miles) because of the great arms leading out of the river, and the canebrakes and thick woods lying along it; and that he found no settlement." Another of DeSoto's officers reported that, "...he returned saying that he did not find a road nor a way to cross the large swamps along the great river." The Mississippi River's Spring flood was well underway by then: mid-May on our Gregorian Calendar. Recall, too, that heavy snows had been reported that winter; the Mississippi must have been a nightmare of melted snows, but DeSoto had not seen it otherwise. That flood dramatically broadened the river and all of its feeders. Levees line the banks today to prevent that, but Anasco lost track of the river's "road" because its natural curvy state was obscured by floods. The first officer continued, "The governor's grief was intense on seeing the small prospect he had for reaching the sea; and worse, according to the way in which his men and horses were diminishing, they could not be maintained in the land without supplies (from Cuba). With that thought he (DeSoto) fell sick, but before he took to his bed, he sent an Indian to tell the chief of Quigaltam (Greenville, Mississippi) that he was the sun of the sun (a God) and that wherever he went all obeyed him and did him service..."

To DeSoto's demands that he come and obey him, that chief replied... "let him dry up the great river and he would believe him..." By that time the river was flooded well over its banks. The chief refused to come, which, given history's course over the next three centuries, proved to be a wise decision. That Mississippi chief and his people would thrive; those of Arkansas would die off, probably of diseases brought in by despot's army and animals from Europe, Africa, South America, Cuba and, as we shall see, South Central Texas the following year.

Continuing, "The Governor realized within himself that the hour had come in which he must leave his present life. He had the royal officials summoned, and the captains and principal persons. To them he gave a talk, saying that he was about to go... The next day, May 21 (1542), died the magnanimous, virtuous (?) and courageous captain, Don Hernando de Soto, Governor of Cuba and ruler of Florida..." His body was buried there, but one week later (under a Full Moon for proper tribute by his soldiers), it was dug up so the Indians could not find it, to prove to others that he was not a God, when the Spaniards left there "...and a considerable quantity of sand was placed with the blankets in which he was shrouded, and he was taken in a canoe and cast into the middle of the river."

The other officer says of DeSoto's untimely death, "The Governor, from seeing himself cut off and that not one thing could be done according to his purpose, was afflicted with sickness and died... he left Luis de Moscoso (pronounced mos-cos-o) appointed as General. We (a group of officers) decided that since (the river was flooding more every day) we could find no road (navigable waterway) to the sea, we should head west, and that it could be that we might be able to get out by land to Mexico, if we did not find anything else in the land or any place to halt..." like Mexico City, with plenty of gold and silver to plunder.

The officer continued, "It seemed advisable to all to take the road overland toward the west, for New Spain lay in that direction; and they considered as more dangerous and of greater risk the voyage by sea; for no ship could be built strong enough to weather the storms, and they had no master or pilot, and no compass or sailing chart, and they did not know how far away the sea was, nor had they any information of it; nor whether the river made some great bend through the land or whether it fell over any rocks where they would perish. Some men who had seen the sailing chart found that the distance to New Spain (Mexico City) along the coast in the region where they were was about 500 leagues (1,300 miles) or so. They declared that even though they might have to make detours by land, because of looking for a settlement (for food), they would not be prevented from going ahead that summer except by some great uninhabited district which they could not cross..."

On Monday, June 5, he left Guachoya. The chief (of Lake Village) gave him a guide to Chaguate (Shreveport, Louisiana) and remained in the village. They passed through a province called Catalte (El Dorado, having camped near Montrose, Hamburg, Crossett, Ouachita River and Strong) and after passing through an uninhabited region for six days (the barrens of Kisatchie National Forest and Barksdale Air force Base), they reached Chaguate (Shreveport) on the twentieth of the month."

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