at Cutifachiqui, that the queen had come to regard them with fear and hatred, and she refused to supply them with guides and burden bearers. De Soto thereupon placed her under guard; and when he took up his march for Chiaha, the queen who had received him with so much grace, dignity, and hospitality, was compelled to accompany him on foot, escorted by her female attendants. The old Spanish chronicler is moved to remark that "it was not so good usage as she deserved for the good will she shewed and the good entertainment that she had made him." This was the return the Spanish leader made to the queen who had received and entertained his army,—to seize her, place her under guard, and compel her to accompany his expedition on foot.

One reason why De Soto made the queen his prisoner and carried her with the expedition was to use her influence in controlling the Indians along his line of march. The result was all that he could have expected. In all the towns through which the Spaniards passed, the queen commanded the Indians to carry the burdens of the army; and thus they went for a hundred leagues, the Indians obeying the queen without question. After a march of seven days, De Soto arrived at the province of Chelaque, which was the country of the Cherokees. Here the soldiers added to their stores of provisions, and renewed their march; and on May 15 they arrived in the province of Xualla, the chief town of which is supposed to have been situated in the Nacoochee valley. Inclining his course westwardly from the Nacoochee valley, De Soto set out for Guaxule, which marked the limit of the queen's dominion, and which has been identified as Old Town, in Murray County. On this march the queen made her escape, taking with her a cane box filled with large pearls of great value. This box had been borne by one of the queen's attendants up to the moment when she disappeared from the Spanish camp. De Soto made every effort to recapture the queen. No doubt the bloodhounds, which formed a part of the expedition, were called in to aid in the search; but it was all to no purpose. The queen hid herself as easily as a young partridge hides, and neither men nor dogs could find her. De Soto went on his way, deploring the loss of the valuable pearls.

From Nacoochee to Murray County the march was fatiguing. The route lay over mountains as well as valleys. One of the foot soldiers, Juan Terron (his folly has caused history to preserve his name), grew so weary on this march, that he drew from his wallet a linen bag containing six pounds of pearls. Calling to a cavalryman, Juan Terron offered him the bag of pearls if he would carry them. The cavalryman refused the offer, and told his comrade to keep them. But Juan Terron would not have it so. He untied the bag, whirled it around his head, and scattered the pearls in all directions. This done, he replaced the empty bag in his wallet, and marched on, leaving his companions amazed at his folly. Thirty of the pearls were recovered by the soldiers. The gems were of great size, and perfect in every particular; and it was estimated that the six pounds of pearls would have fetched six thousand ducats in Spain (over twelve thousand dollars). The folly of the foot soldier gave rise to a saying in the army, that is no doubt current in Spain to this day,—"There are no pearls for Juan Terron," which means that a fool makes no profits.

Continuing their march, the Spaniards came to the town of Chiaha,—a site that is now occupied by the flourishing city of Rome. De Soto remained at Chiaha a month, sending out exploring expeditions in search of the much-coveted gold. They found traces of the precious metal, but nothing more. On the 1st of July, 1540, De Soto left Chiaha, going down the valley of the Coosa. His expedition was organized by the spirit of greed. It spread desolation wherever it went, and it ended in disaster and despair. De Soto himself found a grave in the waters of the Mississippi, and the survivors who made their way back home were broken in health and spirits.

An attempt has been made to throw a halo of romance over this march of the Spaniards through the wilderness of the New World, but there is nothing romantic or inspiring about it. It was simply a search for riches, in which hundreds of lives were most cruelly sacrificed, and thousands of homes destroyed.

OGLETHORPE AND HIS GENTLE COLONY

General James Edward Oglethorpe, the founder of the Colony of Georgia, was among the few really good and great men that history tells us of. We need to keep a close eye on the antics of history. She places the laurels of fame in the hands of butchers, plunderers, and adventurers, and even assassins share her favors; so that, if we are going to enjoy the feast that history offers us, we must not inquire too closely into the characters of the men whom she makes heroes of. We find, when we come to look into the matter, that but few of those who figured as the great men of the world have been entirely unselfish; and unselfishness is the test of a man who is really good and great. Judged by this test, General Oglethorpe stands among the greatest men known to history.

He had served in the army with distinction, as his father had before him. He was on the staff of the great soldier Eugene of Savoy, and under that commander made himself conspicuous by his fidelity and fearlessness. A story is told of him that is interesting, if not characteristic. While serving under Eugene, he one day found himself sitting at table with a prince of Würtemberg. He was a beardless youngster, and the prince thought to have some sport with him. Taking up a glass of wine, the prince gave it a fillip, so that a little flew in Oglethorpe's face. The young Englishman, looking straight at the prince, and smiling, said, "My prince, that is only a part of the joke as the English know it: I will show you the whole of it." With that he threw a glassful of wine in the prince's face. An old general who sat by laughed dryly, and remarked, "He did well, my prince: you began it."

Born in 1689, Oglethorpe entered the English army when twenty-one years of age. In 1714 he became captain lieutenant of the first troop of the queen's guards. He shortly afterwards joined Eugene on the continent, and remained with that soldier until the peace of 1718. On the death of his brother, he succeeded to the family estate in England. In 1722 he was elected to Parliament from Haslemere, county of Surrey, and this borough he represented continuously for thirty-two years. His parliamentary career was marked by wise prudence and consistency; and his sympathies were warmly enlisted for the relief of unfortunate soldiers, and in securing reform in the conduct of prisons. In this way Oglethorpe became a philanthropist, and, without intending it, attracted the attention of all England. Pope, the poet, eulogizes his "strong benevolence of soul."

In that day and time, men were imprisoned for debt in England. The law was brutal, and those who executed it were cruel. There was no discrimination between fraud and misfortune. The man who was unable to pay his debts was judged to be as criminal as the man who, though able, refused to pay. Both were thrown into the same prison, and subjected to the same hardships. In "Little Dorrit," Charles Dickens has told something of those unfortunates who were thrown into prison for debt.

There was apparently nothing too atrocious to be sanctioned by the commercial ambition of the English. It armed creditors with the power to impose the most cruel burdens upon their debtors, and it sanctioned the slave trade. Many crimes have been committed to promote the commercial supremacy of Great Britain, and on that blind policy was based the law which