Old Saint Augustine

Material Information

Old Saint Augustine A story of three centuries
Reynolds, Charles B ( Charles Bingham ), 1856-1940
Place of Publication:
St. Augustine Fla
E. H. Reynolds
Publication Date:
Physical Description:
x, [1]-144 p. : front., plates, port., maps, plans. ; 20 cm.


Subjects / Keywords:
History -- Saint Augustine (Fla.) ( lcsh )
History -- Florida -- To 1821 ( lcsh )
non-fiction ( marcgt )


Statement of Responsibility:
By Charles B. Reynolds ...

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier:
023793559 ( ALEPH )
01609903 ( OCLC )
AAP3448 ( NOTIS )
01006869 ( LCCN )

Full Text

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"PT T A PT-11 TgRO+T--T !IT ii









Copyright, 1887.
All RigrAb Raewwd.


UNSTABLZ as the ever shifting sands of its harbor bar
have been the changing fortunes of St. Augustine. To
tell the story, briefy, clearly and with accuracy of his-
torical detail, is the endeavor in the following chapters.
Some of the illustrations are from drawings by old-time
artists, who were actors here in the scenes of long ago.
Some have been printed on the camera by the sunlight
of to-day; they are new pictures, but of such things
as are old-the massive walls of a decaying fortress, the
pillars of a crumbling gateway, an ancient cathedral, a
more ancient palm tree. All are memorials which speak
of the past, for this is our theme.
The purpose of the book will be attained, if with its
aid the reader shall see the St. Augustine of the present
tinged and illumined with the light of its past.
ST. AvousmT FLoaMa.


THE binding of the present edition is a photographic
reproduction of coquina, the building stone peculiar to
St. Augustine. Fort Marion, the city gateway, the sea-
wall and many of the older dwellings are of coquina. It
is a natural rock formation, quarried from the island
opposite the town, and should not be confounded with
the artificial concrete which is now employed for building


4 rA b e
Soc Acu 2'12(
rklv~arbOut~. ,e





FORT MARION, Fro~rtiee.A
From th tower of the oeld San Mro, ok eastwad,
showi the Harbor, St. Anstadlidt d the ocea.
Arttype fom negative (stS) by H. L. Roblrt.
Fac-silka from the "Mp of the Wet Indiw," by HoH
Mon, Loadoa, yso.
Fao-alI*o domw: ni Frnch artyacqa LA Mown..
Vra th.d ofst the krw kaeW, Fahetali

With the Arm of Fmsa. Fa-dsmile of the drawiqg by
Jacqus L* Mole. rim tl he wk Nwm ane.
Fahtdil of the drwie by Jacam Lsa Mopys. FVrm the
AImWl Nawnra, aE..
Foi of Pt l, DIy'Is Aw rr. Pw VIU.

Formerly deading the approach to St. Auigtntte fro the
south. Arttypte fcm native (i4) by W. A. Cox.
From the southwet, m howin gi, southwest bastion ad
sentry-box, wet crtman ad souMth curtain, with sally-
port. Artotype frmgngative (4) by W. A. Co
Facr-imil of am egraving of the tim by Thoam Slver.


oam the south. Artotype fo anetive (t884) by W. A. Co0.
S"oriw St. Fau rtt.L Aftotype ftoa eatn e (i4) by
Fea-rime oftheeprinrby T.Je y. From the "Dacip.
tiEo t. CrWl' 1Tm W-St Lo0and2o, 1769.
From the north, looking in. Artotype fro aeative (88) by
H. L Robet.
rom the Plaza. Artotype from negative (485) by H. L. Rob
Interior, oing portion of court, eatrces to casmaates, and
i goioed plave lelato rmputa. s. Aztotype fives neg
ti (284) by W. A. 1xha
Portion of the west curt a4 howin on the left fg tree grown
ha the wmi, and on the ight the casemate throau
which Coaochee escaped. Aftotype f om te
(:884) by W. A. Cox.

** The m ap oan pe fog4 Fu a p qof the Florida cot, showing the Indian
vsovf pro"", St. JAW.*
vWnie of Seloy sadort ano the River of Maythe meat St. Johnd.'
The mm.; on Pa m8 Is of the amm, after the arrivalothe~inmpdmandths
estblkishment ofSn Augutiaonthesi of Sloy. Tem up on p shows
the poitiom of theSpmard at Fot Sea Mateo (feme Feet Ce and San
Asguti; nd to the ioth is own th ilt, the sense the event rated in

%** The coquin cover i frm a n native by Edwad Bismsdt.
The portrait of Moenad, fcin pe ,I "a fdlm from n
Sn eoavgrIn of .iunou^.bted a ohtl; It icoied fro Mr.Frned.
mtincE- IPra.o F ialth ow Word by hind enatiowm of ,
the atuor.


FoR the beginning of the story we must go back over
three hundred years to the middle of the Sixteenth
It was an age of romance, when the caravels of
Columbus had but just pierced the cloud of mystery
and gloom shutting out the west, and all.Europe was
ringing with tales of. the wondrous new-found realms
beyond the sunset. It was an age of credulous beliefs
and magnificent undertakings, when bold-hearted adven-
turers sailed forth in search of El Dorados and empires
rich in barbaric treasure. It was the age of Rome's
temporal dominion, when he who held the Keys of St.
Peter laid claim to the entire New World, and parceled it
out among his faithful children. An age of faith, when
in every happening devout believers recognized the direct
personal manifestation of a controlling supreme God; of
intense religious feuds, when difference of creed meant
enmity the most unrelenting and cruelty the most merci-
less; of fanaticism, when deluded men, believing them-
selves chosen instruments of the Most High, mistook the

x The Time and the Actors.

instigation of the Devil for the inspiration of God; of
heroes, when at the hands of such bigots btave men
knew how to die rather than surrender the faith that was
dear to them; finally, of a new knight errantry, when,
indignant at a sovereign's apathy, individuals took
upon themselves single-handed the task of avenging
their martyred countrymen.
These were the times and the actors; and such were
the motives that we shall find reflected in the opening
chapters of St. Augustine's strangely chequered history.



AIN arrogated to herself exclusive dominion of
the New World. Its whole vast territory was
doubly hers, first by right of discovery, and
then by Papal grant.
In Mexico and; Peru she had abundantly made good
this claim by the glorious achievements of the Conquista-
dors; but in Tera Flrida each successive attempt at
conquest had resulted in a failure more disastrous than
the last. Expedition after expedition, made up of the
flower of Spanish chivalry, had landed on the shores of
Florida, and set out with buoyant step upon a triumphal
march to win the fabled treasures of the interior; and the
forests had closed behind them. Exhausted by their
wanderings to and fro, entangled in swamp and hamak,
harassed by savage foes, faint with famine and stricken
with fever, one brave bend after another had lost courage,
grown disheartened and turned back. From some a
handful of straggling survivors had returned to tel the
tale of woe; others had wasted away unll the lmierable
remnant fell into captivity; and still others had perished

Old St. Augustim-

utterly. The history of Spanish endeavor in Florida had
been a pitiful record of disappointment. Here amid the
pines and savannas had been proven the truth of the
ancient belief that the world beyond the sunset was a
world of misery and death.
But the dream of glory to be attained in Florida was
not yet dispelled. Over the land still hung the halo of
romance; within its mysterious forests treasure and fame
were yet waiting to reward the hero whose heart should
be bold to win them; and there was yet one Spaniard, at
least, who, undismayed by the fate of Narvaez and De
Soto, would undertake to wipe out the shame of
failure in North America, and win for himself a plak
with the heroes of his age. This new name in the story
of Florida adventure was that of Don Pedro Menendez
d'Avil6s, nobleman, companion of Pizarro, soldier, bigot.
In x565 Menendez received from the Spanish sovereign,
Philip II., a commission to subdue Florida.
The enterprise was to be a conquest of territory and
treasure; and also much more than this, a mission for the
salvation of souls. The New World was peopled by the
heathen-lost sheep led away by the Demon; and they
must be brought back into the fold of the Church. To
the standard of Menendez, along with mail-clad warrior
came black-robed priest, with the helmeted knight the
cowled friar, beside the banner of Castile was borne aloft
the gilded crucifix, pnd with pike and arquebuse and
other munitions of war were provided the accessories of
the mass.
Moreover there was need of haste. A most alarming
report had been brought to Mnendez. The #oil of

The Spaidards Mission.

Florida was polluted by the feet of heretics; the land
promised by the Holy Father to tie faithful had been
invaded by the children of the Arch-Demon. The tres-
passers must be rooted out and exterminated with fire
and sword. Upon the instant, the Florida enterprise was
transformed into a holy war and exalted to a crusade.
Zealots flocked to take part in the pious undertaking.
As a century before, in the far East, their ancestors had
wrested the Holy Sepulchre from the hand of the Ifidel,
so now, in the West, the knights of Biscay and the Abw-
rias would rescue the New World from the accursed pro-
fanation of the impious heretics. The ranks of the new
crusaders were soon filled; and in June Menendes was
prepared to set forth on his mission.
Who were these heretics in Florida; and how had they
come here, in defiance of the proclamations of the King
of Spain, and in contempt of the anathemas of the Pope
of Rome?




*HORTLY after mid-day of the sad of June,
x564, the people of the Indian village of
Seloy, on the Florida coast, looking out across
the bay and marsh and beyond the drifted sand dunes of
the beach, described three sails approaching from the
south. Athwart the bar the strange ships came to anchor;
and'at 3 o'clock in the afternoon two boats put off, and
rounding the point of the island opposite the town, rowed
toward the land. In the village all was instant commo-
tion. The laborers came in from the maize fields; the
fishermen stranded their dug-outs; and the boys left their
game of ball-throwing at the wicker target. Here collected
the warriors, their ear ornaments of inflated fish bladders
shining in the sun; and there were gathered the women,
clad in kirtles of woven moss, their bangles of silver and
gold plates tinkling as they walked. Then, all came
trooping down to the shore to welcome the strangers-
all save the chief, or Paracoussy, who must needs main-
tain the dignity of his savage royalty, and so held aloof,
seated in state beneath his palmetto bower.
The new-comers were hailed with great joy, for the
Indians recognized them as friends. Their ensigns bore
the Fleur-de-Lis of France; and their leader, Rene de

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The jueowts in Florid.
Landonnihe, had been on this same coast two years
before. At that time the Indians had been treated with
such kindness that at the departure of the expedition
they had, run along the shore, with cries and lamentations
bewailing the loss of their new-found friends and entreat-
ing them to remain. Now, overjoyed at the Frenchmen's
return, the people of Seloy received Laudonnibre with
the warmest welcome and overwhelmed him with gifts.
But let him tell it in his own naive way, as translated
for us in the musty old English text of Hakluyt. "I
went on land," he writes-
paing t s sear4eM 4ts tBte, 5 bet *x it to suaie
tO t tbe *4vtim Wto *i o tot u *k 4 r 4 ,* .
at r warning onx lan, ame It crw a s pl towt* a bIl
opt, tis 6tr 3fiaax languag-: Antipola Bonaliou, W"i
is as aun to sap, as b otb, fthie, or sUme sk ife
ftla. eer ettp )t mat e MWto 4t at us, t4P 4tet u
t*tir Paracoufy, at is to sap, *tkr i t ab sir ,
to Dom 5 pt esntt M tabtw tap *teWrs be tos hae
pfas te 21.rt u Ulo ai m art% I paV tSOeNo Mnetanma
far Weat We b Ibawembw in *a a& gSN ,
*k fb bre sorr faor =tofti buit9tW t b algit aWsses
au ma as tttibe &Ints mor bips.
Js, 1 a816 b tbp eta"tauura r aIi i5 usa to 6dMe
tarp hi tb xat b sbteht bt bpix tu aicts tt qjbNt
to pfsmat us ibt saas rat selns, pet, userttl*esf, ft1
mplR Just n reasuouaib aasios, I si S iot stla a
sot aln Mn t; b t ecusitf Umpeur fto al e4te sbes, 5
Mxbaret U pefe aga xtat, al Mtnati tohtot up dit.
oitett, tbertfo ap artare, I uwau t i BOeW r *, RNOr
of Dolphines, abfsnse at intae arral 5 y Lg 4$M a
Iret nUter of l1tolptMes, oid4 hte plapklg t am 4 -4

Old St. Augustine.

So the Frenchmen, laden with gifts of painted deer-
skins, went back to their ships; and on the following
morning weighed anchor and sailed away from Seloy.
We shall hear of this Indian village again. As seen by
Laudonnibre on that June day, three hundred years ago,
it was a collection of palmetto-thatched huts, surrounded
by maize fields. In the central square stood the great
council house, where before setting out for war the chief
and his counsellors gathered to drink the cassine, that
black drink of virtue so potent that to quaff it was the
crucial test of manly valor. Here, too, the assembled war-
riors waited on the incantation of the sorcerer; and here,
on their return again, they hung the scalps taken in battle.
Without the council hall, aloft on its staff was the effigy
of an antlered.stag, looking out over the ocean toward
the sunrise. For annually, at the coming of spring, the
people of Seloy selected the skin of a huge deer, stuffed
it with choicest herbs and decked it ivith fruits and
flowers; and then bearing it with music and song to the
appointed spot and setting it up on its lofty perch,
consecrated it as a new offering to the Sun god, that
because of it he might smile upon the fields and fructify
the planted seed and send to his children an abundant
From Seloy the French sailed north forty miles, until
they came to a stream, which on the previous voyage had
been named the River of May. Here likewise the In-
dians hailed them with great joy, greeting them while
yet far off from shore with the salutation Antipolal And
polal When they reached the land, the Paracoussy Sa-
tourioua with two of his sons, as fair and mighty persons

-PILF i' i

TAe Hugwusos in Florida. 17

might be found in all the world, thought the French,
ended down to meet them, "having nothing in their
m oths but this word-amy, amy, that is to say, friend,
fri d." The first demonstrations of delight over, noth-
ing would do but that Laudonniere must accompany
Satourioua to the goodly hill, where a pillar of stone
bearing the French coat of arms had been erected by
Ribault, the captain of the first expedition, two years
before. The monument was. found wreathed with gar-
lands, and about its foot were many little baskets of
fruit and maize, with quivers full of arrows and other
tokens of the Indian's veneration. Gathering about the
mysterious symbol, Satourioua and his people rever-
ently kissed the shaft; and besought the French to do
the like; "which we would not deny them," writes Lau-
donniere, "to the end we might draw them to be more in
friendship with us." An exchange of presents followed,
the Paracoussy giving the Captain a wedge of silver, and
Laudonniere presenting in return a cutting-hook and
some gilded trinkets; and thus, with expressions of
mutual good will and tokens of friendship, French and
SIndians renewed the league of perpetual amity and alli-
ance made with Ribault.
After more coasting and exploration, a site was finally
selected, and a hymn of thanksgiving having been sung,
and a prayer made for divine protection, "after which
every man began to take courage," soldiers and sailors
set about the building of a fort. The Indians joyfully
assisted in the work, and with their aid the structure was
soon completed. Jacques Le Moyne, the artist, who,'
came out with the expedition, has pictured the fort for

Old St. Augustie.

us, a triangular structure of logs, which, in honor of the
young French King, Charles IX., they named Fort
Laudonni&re and his companions were French Protest-
ants, Huguenots, Lutherans-in a word, heretics. They
had come to establish here in Florida a Protestant colony,
which should provide an asylum and harbor of refuge
from the persecutions that threatened to overwhelm the
New Religion in their native France.
When Fort Caroline was completed, the ships were sent
home for reinforcements. Weeks and months passed by,
but they did not come again. The French at the River
of May occupied themselves in strengthening the fortifi-
cations, and led on by the delusive stories of distat gold
mines, spent much time and endured many hardships in
fruitless quest of the precious metal. They fell into disas-
trous conflicts with the Indians. Sickness came. Laudon-
nire was worn out with nervous excitement and pros-
trated by a fever. The provisions were exhausted.
Famine followed. Then mutiny. At length, despairing
of succor, the wretched colonists built a crazy craft,
abandoned New France and were putting to sea, when
along came John Hawkins, on his way home from a slave
trading expedition. English sea-king and Spaniard-hater,
the bluff admiral very gladly fitted out the Frenchmen
with supplies of food; and left them one of his ships.
They made all haste to embark, and were awaiting a
favorable wind to bear them away from Florida. But
they did not sail. For on the 29th day of August (x565)
seven ships arrived off the bar of the River of May.
They were from France. Admiral Jean Ribault was in

The Hugwenots in Florida. 19

command, and with him were 3oo colonists. The rein-
forcements had come at last. All was bright once more at
Fort Caroline; and never were pioneers in a new land
more buoyant with hope than were these Huguenots on
the banks of the River of May, as they now set about
in earnest the establishment of Protestant New France.
These were the French heretics in Florida, whom
Menendez was commissioned to'destroy, root and branch,
from the soil given by the Pope to the Spaniard.


N San Pedro's Day, June 29th, 1565, with royal
commission and Papal blessing, Menendez set
sail from Cadiz. He commanded a fleet of thirty-
four vessels and a company of 2,600 men, knights of Bis-
cay and the Asturias, soldiers, seamen, Franciscans,
Jesuits and negro slaves.
In mid-ocean the ships were overtaken and scattered
by a furious tempest; but the expedition, bent on a holy
mission, was under divine protection. So reasoned Men-
endez, and his courage did not falter. Again and again
during the voyage, signal manifestations of the heavenly
approval were granted them. Once, overcome by terror in
the storm, the pilots lost their reckoning and knew not
which way to steer, but divine guidance led them to their
course again. When they were becalmed, writes Fran-
cisco Lopez de Mendoza Grajales, chaplain of the expe-
dition, God in answer to their prayers sent them speedy
winds again; and Providence ordained that they should
come to dangerous shoals in the daytime, that so being
aware of their peril they might pass in safety. Again, in

The Coming of Menendez.

the Bahama Channel the Admiral's galleon, the Sax
Palayo, struck upon a reef, the waters rushed into the
hold, the sailors gave themselves up for lost, and the ship
must surely have perished, had not the Holy Mother in
quick response to their supplications sent two heavy
waves, which lifted the San Palayo and bore her safely
off into deep water again. Yet once more came a token
from above. The fleet lay idly drifting on a glassy sea,
the captains grew disheartened and the crews began loudly
to murmur, when, writes Mendoza, "God showed us a
miracle from on high;" for in the night a great meteor
blazed out in mid-heaven, and sweeping on before them,
its brightness lasting while one might repeat two Credos,
sank toward the west, where lay the land of Florida.
Thus borne on by heaven-sent winds and led by celes-
tial lights, at length, on the 29th of August, the day in
the Spanish calendar sacred to San Augustin, the Span-
iards came in sight of the coast; and at the first welcome
glimpse of land, soldiers and sailors, led by the priests,
chanted together a Te Deum of praise and thanksgiving.
But if the crews rejoiced, how much greater must have
been the satisfaction of their commander, when from the
high deck of the San Palayo he first beheld the shadowy
outline of his kingdom; and how must his heart have
swelled with anticipation as fancy painted the glorious
conquests in store for him. Here at last is Terra Florida,
the Florida of the sixteenth century, which means the
whole vast continent from Mexico to the boundless north,
and from the Atlantic westward to the back of the world
-who knows just where? Before him lies the empire
which he is to claim as his own, for of Florida (so reads

Old St. Augustine.

the royal commission) he is to be Adelantado for life.
Here, in this magnificent theatre of the New World, will he
achieve a conquest that shall outshine the most glorious
exploits of the Conquistadors, and forever join his name
with theirs. As Vasco Nufiez de Balboa, advancing
into the waters of the Great South Sea, made valiant
boast, swearing on his sword, to hold against all comers
that mighty ocean for his sovereign Don Ferdinand,
so will he, Pedro Menendez d'Avilds, undertake to de-
fend against the world this unexplored and illimitable
continent for his Most Catholic Majesty Don Philip II.
As Francisco Pizarro has made his name immortal by
wresting the plates of gold from the Temple of the Sun,
and rifling the treasure from the tombs of the Incas, in
the great and holy city of Cuzco with its hundred thou-
sand houses, so will he, Pedro Menendez, sack the wealth
of Chigoula, the wonderful city hidden somewhere here
in Florida, "whose inhabitants [ran the story of Indian
captives taken to Spain] make none account of gold and
silver and pearls, seeing they have thereof in abundance."
As Hernando Cortez has sent the fleets back to Spain
laden with bars of precious metals from the mines of the
Montezumas, so now will he dispatch the galleons from
Florida, and send them home freighted with treasure
untold from the crystal mountains of Apalatcy, those
wondrous peaks, whose summits "shine so bright in the
day that they cannot behold them and so travel unto them
by night." Nay, besides the rivers of golden sands, the
stores of "Christal, golde and Rubies and Diamonds," the
mines and the pearl fisheries, and cities and mountains of
wealth, beyond these and more wonderful than them all,

The Coming of MeNendez

is the magic fountain into whose waters he, Pedro Menen-
dez, may yet plunge and-why not?-live forever, Adelan-
tado of a continent. Such is the magnificent dream that
rises before the Admiral of the Spanish fleet as the ships
draw near the Florida coast. But first and now, the
darker mission; before the search for fame and treasure,
the hunt for the heretics.
The fleet sailed north along the coast, and not long
after, late one afternoon, the Spanish lookout described the
French ships lying at anchor off the River of May. At
eleven o'clock that night, Tuesday, September 4th, the
San Palayo and her consorts came to anchor within hail
of Ribault's flagship, the Trinity. The Spaniards worked
noiselessly and the French looked on without speaking.
"Such a silence," says Mendoza, "I never knew since I
came into the world." At last a trumpet sounded from
the deck of the San Palayo. From the Trinity came an
answering salute. Then with much courtesy Menendez
inquired, "Gentlemen, whence comes this fleet?"
"From France," was the response.
"What is it doing here?"
"Bringing infantry, artillery and supplies for a fort which
the King of France has in this country, and for many
more which he will build."
"And you, are you Catholics or Lutherans?"
Many of the French at once cried out, "We are Luth-
erans, of the New Religion." Then they asked who he
was and whence he came. Through the gloom they
heard the answer:
"Pedro Menendez is he whom you question, the
Admiral of these ships, the fleet of the King of Spain,

Old St. Augustine.

Don Philip II., which comes to this country to fall upon
and behead all Lutherans who are upon its shores, and
those who are on the seas. The instructions I hold from
my King, and which are so explicit that they leave me
no latitude nor authority to pardon you, I shall execute
in full. Immediately after the break of day, I shall board
your ships. If I find there any Catholics they shall be
spared; but all who are heretics shall die."
Here the French interrupted him and with jeers and
derisive taunts called out to him not to wait until the
morning but to board their ships at once; whereupon the
Spanish Admiral, provoked to great fury, gave the com-
mand to arms, ordered the cables cut and in his wrath
sprung down to the deck to hasten with his own hands
the execution of the order. With all expedition the San
Palayo bore down on the Trinity, but the Frenchmen too
had cut their cables, and putting straight out to sea soon
eluded their pursuers. "These crazy devils are such good
sailors," records Mendoza, "and manceuvered so well that
we could not capture a single one of them." At breakof
day the Spaniards gave over the chase and returned to
the River of May. Here they found the French from
Fort Caroline drawn up on the shore to receive them; and
not risking an attack they sailed to the southward.
That night, it being the eve of the nativity of Our Lady
of September, the larger ships of the Spanish fleet lay off
the bar of the River' of Dolphins; and the smaller ones,
entering the harbor, came to anchor before the village of



ATURDAY, September 8th, witnessed a mem-
orable scene at the River of Dolphins. In the
morning, the first beams of the sun, rising from
the sea, shone upon the antlered front of the consecrated
stag, in the heathen village of Seloy; at night its last rays
from the pine forests of the west illumined a cross, stand-
ing amid the sentried fortifications of the Christian town
of San Augustin.
Long before dawn, the crews had begun the labor of
disembarking. The seamen landed artillery and stores;
the infantry took possession of the great council house
of Seloy; the negro slaves fell to the task of throwing up
earthworks about it; and the priests having set up a
cross, erected an altar and provided the sacred utensils of
the mass.
At noon, clad in the uniform of his knightly order,
hose and doublet, slashed sleeves, and the cross of Sant-
iago on the breast, burnished casque and waving plume,
Menendez left the San Palayo; and amid fanfare of trum-
pet, roll of drum and salvos of artillery was rowed in

26 Old St. Augustine.

state to the shore. Arrived there, a procession was
formed. At the head walked chaplain Mendoza, bear-
ing aloft the crucifix. Then came Menendez, drawn
sword in one hand and royal commission in the other.
After him marched the priests, and behind them, their
armor glistening in the sunlight, followed the companies
of infantry. Over them flaunted the great yellow banner
of Spain. Chanting they marched to the majestic meas-
ures of the Te Deum Laudamus. When they reached the
altar, Menendez knelt and reverently kissed the crucifix;
and the others followed his example. Then all gathered
about the altar for the solemn ceremonies of the mass.
It was a motley throng-the priests robed in the stole
and chasuble of their sacred office, the warriors clad in
suits of mail, the naked negroes toiling in the trenches;
and pressing in a circle without, the bewildered Indians,
mute in their wonder and vaguely imitating the mysteri-
ous actions of the strangers. It was a group in which
were many contrasts most sharply defined. Here stood
the Spanish Adelantado, representative of the proudest
nation upon the globe, now come hither to subdue a con-
tinent; and a little apart from him was the Indian Para-
coussy, whose petty reign should from that hour cease.
Here crowded the conquistadors, eager for spoils; and
there bent the negro toilers, precursors of the tens of
thousands of their unhappy race who should follow them
to slavery in America. Contrast most strange of all-
this celebration of Christian rites, while the heathen deer
high on his staff stolidly faced the east.
The mass being ended, Menendez took formal posses-
sion of Florida in the name of Philip II., and in honor

Founding a City. 27

of the saint upon whose day the fleet had sighted the
Florida coast, he named the new town San Augustin.
Then having read aloud his commission, he took from
officers and men a renewal tf their oaths of allegiance,
and was saluted by all present as Adelantado of Florida.
Soldiers and sailors sent up a cheer; the artillery shook
the earth with a salute; the ships in the bay responded
with their thunder; and booming over the water came
the answering echoes from the great guns of the San
Palayo far out beyond the bar.
So passed the natal day of San Augustin, the new
Christian town planted on the site of the pagan Indian
village. The sun sank behind the rim of pines in the
west; the glory of gold and crimson and purple faded
out from sky and sea; the birds hushed their songs; the
gloom of night drew on apace; and from the sea came
the monody of the surf rolling in on the shore.
The sunlight has faded from our story. There is no
more of glitter. The pageantry is over. The ceremo-
nies of the town's establishment are not yet completed.
Other rites are to follow, but they will be sombre
and pitiless. The ancient Picts bathed the foundation-
stones in human blood, that their structures might long
endure. Some such terrible baptism must be provided for
San Augustin, if this planting of Spanish dominion in
North America is to be made more secure than the futile
attempts of other Spaniards here in Florida. Victims for
the human sacrifice are not wanting. Yonder at Fort
Caroline are the heretics, Lutherans, apostate followers
of a renegade German monk, and trespassers on this
domain of the Spanish monarch, who for the honor of

28 Old St. Augustine.

Adelantado, Church and King, must be rooted out with
fire and the sword. So reasons the Spaniard; and Pedro
Menendez will not fail to put into execution what his
cruel heart contemplates, for his soul is full to the brim
of fiercest hate, and his arm is nerved by the most
powerful of all motives in this year of grace, 1565, the
unreasoning determination of a religious bigot.


ONDAY, September 1o, as Menendez was re-
turning from the San Palayo, which was to sail
that night for Spain, the breeze died out with
the sunset, and the Adelantado lay all night becalmed off
the bar of San Augustin. In the dim gray of the coming
dawn, his shallop still at anchor, Menendez and his com-
panions were terrified by the apparition of the Triuity
driftig down upon them with the tide. Not a breath of
air was stirring; no human agency could save them;
destruction was imminent. In their extremity the trem-
bling crew fell upon the deck in supplication of Our Lady
of Utrera. Behold miracle! "Straightway," writes Men-
doza, "one would say that Our Lady herself came down
upon the ship." A sudden flaw of wind struck the idle
sail, and lifting the shallop bore it on the crest of a wave
over the bar. There it was safe, for the French ships
could not follow. They waited outside for the rising of
the tide.
Ribault was in command of the French fleet, and with
him was the entire fighting contingent from Fort Caroline.

Old St. Augustine.

They had come for an attack, before the Spaniards had
intrenched themselves. The Adelantado was ill prepared
for this unexpected coming of the enemy, but his courage
was not shaken. The enterprise, undertaken for the glory
of God and the Church, was not thus to fall into the
hands of the Arch-Demon. Again the Spaniards prayed.
Behold another miracle! The very elements of heaven
were marshalled to their deliverance. On a sudden, while
the sky was yet clear, the sun shining bright and the sea
calm, out of the northeast came a blast of wind. It
sprung at once to a gale, increased in fury and gathered
the might of a hurricane. Such a tempest, the Indians
said, had never been known on the coast before. The
rain beat down in blinding floods. The sea was lashed
to fury. The French ships struggled and labored in the
storm, striving in vain to gain an offing; the waves
rising to the maintopmasts threatened to engulf them.
Finally the Spaniards saw them driving helplessly to the
southward. Then they disappeared in the gloom of the
storm. In such a sea, on the Florida coast, the heretics
must perish. The Spaniards were saved. Thus had
Providence interposed once aga:n to avert their destruc-
tion; "so,"writes the pious Mendoza, "God and the Holy
Virgin have performed another great miracle in our
behalf;" and" soldiers and priests joined in a service of
Heaven had destroyed the ships. Now to fall upon
the rest of the French at Fort Caroline. A mass was
said. Menendez selected 5oo arquebusiers and pikemen,
gave the command to march, and himself led the way.
For four days, led by Indian guides, they threaded the

- --- ---


Fort Caroline.

mazes of the pines, waded the swamps and hewed their
way through scrub and hamak. Day after day, night
after night, the never-ceasing floods of rain poured down
upon them. At xo o'clock of the fourth night, drenched,
bruised, exhausted with fatigue and privation, they
reached the River of May, and on a bluff overlooking Fort
Caroline threw themselves down to await the dawn.
How was it within the fort? Ribault had left no
defenders. Laudonniere lay in bed sick with a fever.
The garrison was a beggarly assemblage of incapable.
There were Challeux the carpenter, old and helpless; Le
Moyne the artist, who could wield a pencil but not a pike;
the boys who kept Ribault's dogs; and lackeys, women
and children. The pitiful few who could bear arms at all
were worn out by their protracted guard duty during the
four days and nights of continuous tempest. Through
the weary hours of this night, as before, the tired sentinels
paced the ramparts in the storm; but, "when the day
was therefore come," says the chronicle, "and the captain
of the guard saw that it rained worse than it did before,
he pitied the sentinels all too moyled and wet, and think-
ing that the Spaniards would not have come in such a
strange time, he let them depart and went to his lodging."
Little did he know the determined will of the Adelantado,
Don Pedro Menendez d'Avil6s; little did he dream that at
the very moment his compassion sent the exhausted sen-
tinels to their quarters, 500 pikemen were concealed
among the pines on the bluff, within trumpet call, waiting
like savage beasts to spring upon their prey.
Morning came, the morning of San Mateo's Day. Men-
endez had spent the night in vigils and prayer. With the

Old St. Augustine.

first streak of light he marshalled his command. The
signal was given for the attack. Breaking into a run and
raising their battle cry, Saniagol the Spaniards rushed
upon the fort.
"Victory! God is with us!" shouted Menendez. "Upon
Laudonniere's trumpeter first saw the Spaniards; and
gave the alarm. Too late. In through the postern of the
gate poured the Spaniards. Out of bed leaped the
French. Undressed, unarmed, out they came, old and
young, well and sick, men, women and children, dazed,
bewildered, panic-stricken, pell-mell, headlong on to the
Spanish pikes. Back through the tents and barracks they
fled again. Close upon them followed the furious Span-
iards. Some of the French in terror threw themselves
over the walls and escaped. Some were spared-to be
hung, if we credit the French account; to be given over
to the Inquisition, if we accept the Spanish version. The
rest were cut down, stabbed, butchered. The assault
was not more impetuous than the end swift. A trumpet
sounded the victory. The standard of Spain floated over
Fort Caroline.
Among those who escaped were Le Moyne, Challeux
and Laudonnitre. The fugitives made their way toward
the mouth of the River of May, where lay two small ships,
left by Ribault. In the marsh, the water up to his chin,
Laudonniere stood all night long, praying aloud. There
in the morning a boat's crew found him helpless, without
strength to move even a finger; and lifting him in,
they bore him to the ships. After much disaster and
suffering, surviving hunger, thirst and shipwreck, the

Fort Caroline.

refugees reached France. Each of the three named sub-
sequently published accounts of their Florida'misfortunes;
and Le Moyne prepared from memory a series of illus-
trations of the French expedition in Florida.
Menendez made thorough work at Fort Caroline. In
Laudonniere's quarters were discovered certain gilt-b=und
books, out of which the heretic Lutheran priests were ac-
customed to preach their impious doctrines; and these
accursed volumes were at once consigned to the flames.
If we accept the statement of chaplain Mendoza, a great
Lutheran cosmographer and magician was found among
the dead. The names of fort and river were changed to
San Mateo, in honor of the Saint upon whose day this
great triumph had been achieved. Having thus perfected
the work of blotting out the heretics, and leaving in Fort
San Mateo a garrison of 300 men, the Adelantado set out
on his return to San Augustin. A messenger was sent on
ahead to announce the joyful tidings; and the priests
went out to meet the victors. A triumphal procession
was formed, Mendoza, in new cassock and surplice, bear-
ing the crucifix at its head; and chanting the Te Deum,
the victorious band entered San Augustin at the vesper
The mass of thanksgiving for the signal victory over
the Arch-Demon was hardly finished, when Menendez
was called to go forth on a mission yet darker than that
of Fort Caroline.


*HE river, or sound, named by the French the
River of Dolphins and by the Spaniards San
Augustin, runs parallel with the ocean, from
which it is separated by a narrow strip of land, to a point
thirteen miles south, where by another inlet it is again
connected with tho sea. To follow the beach, coming
from the south, one must cross this lower inlet, and pro-
ceed along the shore of the island formed by river and
On the day following his return from Fort Caroline,
while Menendez, worn out with fatigue, was taking his
siesta, an Indian runner brought word that a company of
men had been discovered on the beach at the lower inlet,
which they could not cross. The Adelantado awoke to
immediate action. At the head of a chosen band of fifty
picked soldiers, he left San Augustin at dusk, crossed
over to the island, marched south along the coast, and
reached the northern shore of the inlet before dawn.
From his lookout in a tree, with the first faint light of
San Miguel's Day, Menendez described the company on


the southern shore. Their number was large; and he
well knew who they were.
When day had fully come, the Spanish commander

S'S Mato


manceuvered his men among the sand hills, so that to
those on the other side his force of fifty might appear to
be many more. After these demonstrations he patiently
waited. One of the strangers plunged into the water

Old- St. Augustine.

from the opposite shore and swam across the inlet. He
was a Frenchman. His companions, he said, had been
shipwrecked. The conversation that followed recalls the
parley between the San Palayo and the Trinity at the
River of May.
"What Frenchmen are they ?" asked the Adelantado.
"Two hundred of the command of Jean Ribault, Ad-
miral and Captain-General of this country for the King of
France," was the reply.
"Catholics or Lutherans ?"
"All Lutherans of the New Religion." His captain,
he added, had sent him over to ask who they were.
"Tell him, then," was the ominous reply, "that it is the
Viceroy and Adelantado of this land for the King Don
Philip; and that his name is Pedro Menendez."
The Frenchman swam back to his comrades. By and
by he came again and said that his captain wished to treat
with the Spaniards. Menendez sent them a canoe. The
captain and ten others came over. They begged Menen-
dez to furnish them boats, in which they might proceed
to a fort, which they had to the north.
"Are you Catholics or Lutherans ?" asked Menendez.
"We are all of the New Religion."
Then said the Adelantado: "Gentlemen, your fort
is taken and its garrison destroyed;" and he showed
them some of the spoils from Fort Caroline and two of
its garrison, who having declared themselves Catholics
had been spared alive.
Then the French captain asked for ships to take his
company to France. The Spaniard replied that he had
no ships for such a purpose. France and Spain were not


at war, urged the Frenchman; their Kings were friends
and brothers; would the Adelantado not graciously per-
mit these shipwrecked men to remain at his fort, until
they could obtain passage to France. If Catholics and
friends, replied the Spaniard, yes; but since they were of
the New Sect, he could regard them only as enemies.
He should wage war upon them even to blood and fire,
and should pursue them with all cruelty, wherever he
might encounter them in this land, to which he had come
to plant the Holy Faith for the salvation of the Indians.
If they were willing to surrender their standards, give up
their arms, and submit themselves to his mercy, well and
good; "he should do with them as God might give him
The French captain went back and consulted with his
men. He came again, this time with another plea.
Many of his comrades were noblemen of high birth; they
offered a ransom of 50,000 ducats for their lives. No,
the Spaniard replied, although a poor man, he was not
mercenary; and if in the end he should treat them with
leniency, he would wish to be free from suspicion of a
sordid motive for doing so. Again the Frenchman
came over, with the proffer of a still larger ransom. "Do
not deceive yourselves," answered Menendez; "though
heaven should come down to earth, I would not do other
than I have said."
The parley was ended. The French castaways, ex-
hausted by their long buffetings with the waves, worn
out by the hard march through the wilderness, bedrag-
gled, famished and utterly disheartened, too weak to
fight, too weak to retreat, threw themselves upon the

Old St. Augustixe.

mercy of the Spaniard, and committed themselves to him,
to do with them "as God should give him grace."
A boat was sent across the inlet, and returned with the
standards and arms. Then it brought over the captain
and eight of his men. They were supplied with food
and drink and conducted behind the sand dunes out of
the sight of their comrades on the other shore. "Gen-
tlemen," said Menendez, "my men are few and you are
many; it would be easy for you to avenge upon us the
deaths of your friends at the fort. You must, then,
march with your hands bound behind you, to my camp,
four leagues hence." To this they assented. The sol-
diers took the match-cords from their arquebuses; and
the arms of the French were securely bound behind their
backs. The others came over ten at a time, and the men
of each company, on their arrival, were bound in like
manner. In all there were two hundred and eight of them.
Then the chaplain, Mendoza, interposed. It was the
final opportunity. If any were Catholics, let them sig-
nify it. Eight sailors so declared themselves, and were
placed apart. "We are all of the New Sect," said the
rest; "this is our faith; we have no other."
The sun was low in the west. There was need of expedi-
tion in the terrible work now to be done. Menendez gave
the command to march. Divided into squads of ten, their
arms tied behind, a guard in front of them and another in
their rear, the wretched victims were driven to the sham-
bles. Leaving his secret instructions with the soldiers,
Menendez went on in advance. At a certain point,
before determined, he drew with his lance a mark in the
sand. When the first band of ten Frenchmen came to


this mark, the vanguard turned upon the leading rank of
prisoners and stabbed, each his man; and the rear guard
stabbed from behind, each his victim, those in the second
rank. When the second squad of ten came to the fatal
mark they were struck down in the same way; then the
third, and the fourth, and those that came after; and so
the horrible matansa-the well-planned, systematic butch-
ery, where each one struck his appointed blow-was con-
tinued so long as the light shone, and went on, after the
setting of the sun, into the night, until at length th6 deed
of blackest darkness was finished in darkness.
When the last heretic had been stabbed in the back,
the Spaniards returned a second time in triumph to San

And here this dark chapter should end; but the story
is not yet finished. What follows is a repetition almost in
detail of that which has been told. Let us hasten over it.
Upon the following day the Indians came again to San
Augustin. Another company had been discovered on
the beach at the inlet. With 15o men the tireless Span-
iard again set forth. Another night march, another impa-
tient waiting for the dawn, another maneuver of the
troops; and again a messenger swam across the inlet.
His company, he said, was that of Admiral Jean Ribault;
and after the story of their shipwreck, came the request
for boats to take them to Fort Caroline. Then the
Frenchman inquired whom he was addressing. "Pedro
Menendez," was the answer; and the messenger was sent
back with the news of the capture of Fort Caroline.
A canoe having been sent for him, Jean Ribault him-

Old St. Augustine.

self came over with eight of his officers. The Spanish
Adelantado received the French Admiral with punctilious
courtesy, and set a collation before him. Having con-
vinced Ribault of the death of those who had been left
at Fort Caroline, Menendez led him to the horrible spot
where the flocks of unclean birds were gathered, and
showed him by the ghastly evidence there what fate had
overtaken the first band of castaways two days before.
Again came the ineffectual plea for clemency. What
had happened to himself, said Ribault, might have be-
fallen Menendez; their Kings were brothers and friends,
so as a friend should the Adelantado act toward him.
Menendez was unmoved. Then the French offered ran-
som; and it was refused. The interviews concluded as
before; the Spaniard's final answer was that "the French
might surrender themselves to his mercy, and he should
do with them as God might direct."
That night 200 of the French withdrew and marched
south into the wilderness; any fate, even to be devoured
by the savages, was preferable to that of falling into the
hands of the Spaniard.* The next morning Menendez
sent a boat across the inlet, and Ribault came over, bring-
ing his standards, arms and commission; and surrendered
them to Menendez. The Adelantado conducted him
behind a sand hill and repeated the treacherous pretext
he had used before. Night was approaching, he said;
his fort was distant; they had far to go; his men were
few; the French were many; they must be bound. The
Admiral submitted.

They subsequent surrendered, sad most of them found their way back to


Once more, across this Stygian flood, the ferry boat of
death with Charon at the oar began its passing. Back
and forth, from shore to shore, it fared, bringing the vic-
tims ten at a time, until the one hundred and fifty had
been ferried over. As each company of ten arrived, they
were conducted behind the sand hills; and their arms
were pinioned. "When all were tied," writes the Spanish
priest, Don Solis las Meras, brother-in-law of Menendez,
and present at this scene, "when all were tied, the Adelan-
tado asked if they were Catholics or Lutherans, or if any
wished to make confession. Jean Ribault answered that
all there were of the New Religion; and then he began to
repeat the psalm Domine, memento mei; having finished
which, he said that from dust they came and to dust they
must return again; and that in twenty years, more or
less, he must render his final account;" and now the Ade-
lantado might do with him as he saw fit. This man, Jean
Ribault, who spoke thus, we may be sure, walked erect
and with an unflinching step to his fate.
Four who declared themselves Catholics were placed
on one side, and with them the drummers and fifers, one
of whom, Nicolas Burgoigne, we shall hear of again.
Then, as in the Florida pines to-day one may see the
horsemen forcing the cattle into the slaughter pens, the
Spaniards drove their wretched victims on to their doom.
On the same sandy reach, still red with its sanguinary
dye, Menendez drew for this new band of martyrs another
mark on the ground. When Ribault and his comrades
reached this fatal bound, the horrible scene of that other
day was re-enacted; and with each succeeding band the
matanza was repeated; the butchers struck and the vic-

42 Old St. Augustine.

times fell. And when all had been slain, the Spaniards
marched on, and returned once more in triumph.
Thus at the founding of San Augustin was thrice pro-
vided a human sacrifice, and a libation poured out' so
copious, that were there virtue in the old pagan.rites the
walls of this Spanish city in Florida must endure for all


HE time is three years later. The scene is
changed to San Mateo. Enter, for the last
stormy act in this lurid drama, the Chevalier
Dominique de Gourgues, French Catholic, soldier of for-
tune, sometime since Spanish galley slave; row come to
repair the outraged honor of his native land and to
avenge the death of his countrymen. He has sold his
estates that he may fit out an expedition, has gathered a
picked company of soldiers and seamen, and sailed out
of France with a commission to kidnap slaves on the
coast of Africa. Once at sea, he has undeceived his
companions; the enterprise, he tells them, is not to steal
negroes; it is a mission of vengeance. He rehearses the
atrocious cruelties of the Spaniards, with the terrible fate
of the Huguenots in Florida, and details his scheme of
retaliation-will they follow him? The answer is a
When the three ships come in sight of the forts at San
Augustin and San Mateo, the Spaniards, taking them for
friends, fire salutes of welcome. The Frenchman responds,

Old St. Augustine.

and sails on. Entering a river beyond, he finds the banks
lined with a hostile array of Indians, drawn up under the
Paracoussy Satourioua, and prepared for battle. A trum-
peter, one of the fugitives who had escaped from Fort Caro-
line, is sent ashore. The Indians recognize him. The
ships, they learn, are French, not Spanish. The trumpeter's
message is heard with joy; and immediately savage hos-
tility is changed to eager welcome. Later, when De
Gourgues comes ashore and begins to declare his purpose
of revenge, Satourioua impatiently interrupts him with
the story of the wrongs which his own people have en-
dured at the hands of the Spaniards. Well have the
Paracoussy and his tribe kept the pledge made to Lau-
donniere that his friends should be their friends and hWs
enemies their enemies; and many an incautious Spaniard
at San Mateo and San Augustin has been ambushed and
slain by the unseen Indian foe.
The French landed their equipment, and made prepara-
tions for attacking the forts; and meanwhile their savage
allies performed the ceremonies which were always observed
before the Florida Indian went into battle. The black
drink was mixed; and nothing would do but that De
Gourgues must quaff a heroic draught. The painted
sorcerer with painful contortions and grimaces of suffer-
ing fell into his mystic trance, and from the vision brought
information of the strength and disposition of the enemy.
The chiefs, decked out in totems and forbidding in war
paint, gathered in a circle, squatting on the ground; and
in the center uprose Satourioua. On his right stood a
vessel of water, on his left burned a fire. Taking a shal-
low dishful of the water in his right hand and holding it

French Vengeance. 45

aloft toward the sun, the chief prayed to that luminary
that a victory might be granted them over the Spaniards;
and dashing the water to the ground, implored that so
might the blood of the enemy be poured out. Then lift-
ing up the great vessel of water he emptied it out upon
the fire, exclaiming, "So also may you extinguish the lives
cf your foes." And all the rest responded with shouts and
cries of hate and rage.
Again De Gourgues inflamed the hearts of his follow-
ers by a fresh recital of the wrongs they had come te
avenge; and then Frenchmen and Indians took up their
The Spaniards, four hundred strong, were intrenched
in two small forts near the mouth of the Rio de San Mateo
and in Fort San Mateo (formerly Fort Caroline), which
had been so strengthened and equipped that the Span-
iards boasted the half of France could not take it. The
avengers sought first the smaller forts. Making their way
as best they could through the swamps, across the treach-
erous ooze of marshes and over the cruel oyster beds con-
cealed beneath the water, from which they emerged with
lacerated feet and bleeding limbs, they came at length to
the first fort and prepared for the attack.
"To arms The French !" cried a sentinel; and from
the fort, upon the advancing column, came a cannon ball
from the muzzle of one of Laudonniere's own cannon. At
this, Olotacara, an impetuous savage, bounded from his
place in the ranks, leaped upon the platform, scaled the
rampart and ran the gunner through with his pike.
French and Indians followed with a rush. It was soon
over. The fort was taken. By command of De

Old St. Augutine.

Gourgues fifteen of the Spaniards were reserved; of the
rest not one escaped.
Panic-stricken at the capture of the first fort, the garri-
son of the other one, across the river, rushed out for
flight into the forest. Hemmed in by the infuriated sav-
ages on one side, and on the other by the French, there was
no escape. As before, fifteen were reserved; and of the
others, the historian of the expedition records, "all there
ended their days."
Then on to Fort San Mateo. Here the garrison, hav-
ing been alarmed, were in readiness for them;' and "no'
sluggards of their cannon shot," played their ordnance
upon the French so incontinently that their courage
failed; and retreating to the shelter of the woods, they
took up their position on that very bluff where three years
before Menendez had concealed his pikemen. Here,
since it was late in the day, De Gourgues would have
waited, deferring the assault until the morrow. But
the Spanish commandant, who must needs hasten his own
swift destruction, gave the word for threescore shot to
sally out from the fort to discover the number and valor
of the enemy. The Spaniards falling thus into a trap of
their own making, De Gourgues hemmed them in before
and behind, and hewed them down-all save the fifteen
reserved with ominous purpose. Seeing this, the rest of
the garrison in terror fled from their fort and plunged
into the forest. There, turn what way they might, the
soldier's pike confronted them and the savage sprang out
upon them. In the stern work of retribution the arm of
neither Frenchman nor Indian grew weary until the last
one was fallen and the vengeance done.

FrexcA VewgVaxa.

And what of the captives, the three fifteens, reserved with
sinister intent by De Gourgues? This is the record of
their fate, given in the old chronicle-

lae it)et olt ftiha toea st t e rashu e t lh tha IM
Waie, o e t a bau e at r *a snuiea s at l te stuss
Dtaum lram an WSAtN on 69%& k i *( wat tos* ~
*erres 4t Sea4 )nag; at *4 amb"r tho hW lase
batoge b as rt paardl&, n4w h pdeouishts sbtisals id
the U truLrcble estat, Cattreta big tait sal 4s kut
ifagtsat *1)4) 4a1 bal briagt seas )bt.

but1 Sau *t1,tprttng *sir *tKues in puals, 11 inis
snt obs as sta f a iS 4 ns, It ap sta Laesaa i,
0earues caurLs to bh trhifte hit a rsesarg i ft as
tabe t sticaeM, nIo an t seto r "o ft s nae siak, ser
as sota fariture, bat as sat Qrattonrs ttm, ras fPlr

A fire, which had been kindled by some Indians that
they might broil fish to feast the Frenchmen, lighted the
train of the powder magazine and blew up the store-
houses of the Spaniards; and the Indians, who had helped
to build Fort Caroline, now demolished its walls and
leveled it with the ground. The joy of the savages at
the destruction which had overtaken their enemies knew
no bounds; and they came in from all the villages, flocking
to De Gourgues to honor him with praises and gifts as
their friend and deliverer. One ancient crone declared
that "she.cared not any longer to die, since she had seen
the French once again in Florida and the Spaniards
chased out."
Having assembled his company to return thanks to

48 Old St. Augustine.

God for their victory and to pray for a safe voyage home
again, and taking leave of the Indians, who cried aloud
with sorrow at his going, Dominique De Gourgues, his
mission accomplished, set sail for France, where in due
time he arrived, having eluded the pursuit of "eighteen
Pinnesses and a great Shippe of two hundred Tunnes, full
of Spanyardes, which being assured of the defeat in
Florida, followed him to make him yeeld another account
of his voyage, than that wherewith hee made many French-
men right glad."



*WENTY summers have come and gone, since that
September day of Spanish pomp in Seloy. The
romance of Florida has departed. No city of
gold has been found, nor mountain of treasure, nor pearl
fishery, nor fountain of youth. One illusion after another,
all have vanished. The magnificent dream is over.
Florida is an unprofitable possession, it has contrib-
uted no revenues to the crown, nor will it ever; but with
jealous hand the Spanish monarch maintains his grasp
upon the barren province. Though he will not occupy
the land himself, others may not enter; and here at San
Augustin he is constructing his fortifications to menace
the other nations.
The town is an insignificant military post, whose garri-
son is dependent for sustenance upon the supply ships
from Spain. Opposite the fort, on the northern shore of
the island, at the southern point, now called by the sol-
diers La Matanza (The Place of Slaughter), and at
other points north and south along the coast, beacons
have been erected to light the plate fleets from Mexico

Old St. Augustine.

and Peru, passing through the Florida channel on their
way to 010 Spain.
Well had it been for the French, twenty years before,
had the warning ray of some mighty beacon flashed out
over the waters to turn them from the fatal coast.
The storms of twenty winters have bleached the sands
of that haunted shore, where with his companions sleeps
the martyr, Jean Ribault. The illustrious Cavalier, Don
Pedro Menendez d'Avil6s, Adelantado of the Provinces of
Florida, Knight Commander of Santa Cruz, of the Order
of Santiago, and Captain-General of the Oceanic Seas,
died in the year 1574, honored by Pope and sovereign
and in the full flush of his fame. Eight years later, in
I582, "to the great griefe of such as knew him," died
the Chevalier Dominique De Gourgues. The Para-
coussy Satourioua, too, has gone the way of his race;
and after the custom of their tribe, his subjects have
planted about his grave the circle of arrows, placing in
the center his cassine cup, chiefest memorial of wisdom
and valor; and with wailing and tearing of hair have
observed the appointed thirty days of mourning.
So one by one the personages, whose deeds have been
recorded in the first chapters of our story, have passed
away. Spanish bigot, Huguenot victim, French avenger,
savage ally--each has played his part, and gone to his
reward. New actors take their places.
In 1586 came the English Sea-Kings.


.L~-4~~ r~nhi~a~L J
I, 41
ilk, ~-LI '~;
Ao- ir: '-- '~


HHE English seaman of the Sixteenth century was
cast in heroic mould. It was the time of Gil-
bert, Frobisher, Grenville, Drake and Raleigh.
These were the captains; and their crews were of like
spirit-eager to sail out into the wonderful New World,
explore untried seas, extend the glory of the English
name, and above all to burn gunpowder against the
Spaniard. For to English seaports, with the tales of new-
found El Dorados beyond the sea, came dark stories of
Spanish cruelty to British seamen in the Western waters.
Armed with his Papal Bull of Donation, giving him sole
right and title in the two Americas, the pretentious Don
regarded as intruders all others who dared to trespass on
his domain. French Huguenot or English heretic, it was
all one to him--the ship was scuttled or burned, and the
crew turned over to the Inquisition. What that meant,
English seamen too well knew. Some of them had been
stretched upon the rack at Seville; and had seen their
comrades give out their lives amid the flames of the
auto-da-fi at Madrid. Chained to the oars and with

Old St. Augushine.

backs bared to the lash of the slave-driver, men of Devon
were enduring the torture of heat and thirst and scourg-
ing in the banks of Spanish galleys. Clad in the oppro-
brious San Bemto, men of Plymouth were wearing out
their lives in the gloom of Peruvian mines; and yet other
Englishmen were rotting in the dungeons of the Ever-
lasting Prison Remediless at Cartagena. The memory of
these things, which had been endured, nay, were even
now being suffered by comrade and friend, and by son
and brother, nerved the English sailor's arm to strike a
blow at the Spaniard wherever found.
To resentment for individual wrongs was added the
broader motive of patriotism. England and Spain were
not at open war, but the peace between them was far
from being hearty or long enduring. Philip II. was col-
lecting his invincible armada, to overwhelm the British
Islands and add them to his already colossal empire of
two-thirds the known world; and Queen Elizabeth, fear-
ing to precipitate the blow, which she knew must come,
maintained a policy of discreet inaction. Not so her
loyal sea captains. They burned with impatience to be
away to cut off the gold-trains and intercept the plate-
fleets; and, by crippling the Spanish monarch's resources,
delay, if they might not finally avert, the coming of the
armada. Many a stately carack from the Indies, sailing
home to Old Spain, struck her colors at the English sea-
king's bidding; and more than once, when the Spanish
prize had been taken, along with the bars of silver and
the ingots of gold, they brought forth from her hold, as
from the dead, some maimed wretch of an English cap-
tive-and so by one stroke was England's enemy spoiled

The English Sea-Kings. 53

of his treasure, and the familiars of the Holy Office
were cheated of their prey.
Two expeditions already had "that right rare and
thrice worthy Captaine, Francis Drake," led against the
Spaniards in the West; first, when at Nombre de
Dios he showed his men the way to the Treasury of
the World, and a second time, when in the Golden
Hinde he ploughed a furrow round the whole world;
and from each voyage he had returned again to
Plymouth with great store of. silver and gold, that
would else have gone to swell the invader's might.
But notwithstanding this staying of his treasure, the in-
domitable Spanish monarch went on adding galleon to gal-
leon and armament to armament; and year by year the
rumors that reached the ports of the sturdy little island
grew more alarming. So it happened that in 1585,,Philip
having laid an embargo on English ships, and thus' given
him provocation anew, Francis Drake must needs go
forth again to sack the cities of the Spanish Main.
On September x4, 1585, admiral of a fleet of twenty-
five ships and pinnaces and a company of 2,3oo men,
Drake sailed out of Plymouth. One of his captains was
the Arctic explorer, Martine Frobisher, not long before
this returned from his search for the Northwest Passage
to Cathay, and from guiding his pioneer bark amid the
icy perils under the North Star, now come to court new
hazard in fighting Spaniards beneath the Southern Cross.
Making for the coast of Spain, the Englishmen over-
hauled a stout Spanish ship laden with Poore John (the
sailors' name for dried Newfoundland fish); extorted
from the Governor of Bayonne a present of "wine, oyle,

Old St. Augustine.

apples, marmalad and such like;" and off Vigo captured
a flotilla of caravels, in one of which they found "a great
crosse of silver of very faire embossed work and double
gilt all over, having cost a great masse of money." Com-
ing to the Cape Verde Islands, they took Porta Praya and
St. Iago; and having dallied long for the ransoms of
those wretched towns, finally set out on their mission,
and turned their prows
"Westward ho I with a rumbelow,
And hurra for the Spanish Main, 0 i"
The fleet arrived off San Domingo, Hispaniola, on
New Year's Day, z586. Two companies of troops
landed, entered the gates on opposite sides of the city,
cut their way through all opposition, met in the market
place in the center of the town, there took their stand,
demanded ransom, enforced the demand by firing the
city, received finally 35,oo0 ducats, and then sailed away
to the Main. By a furious onslaught and after much
desperate fighting, they made themselves masters of Car-
tagena, and set about securing the ransom. What with one
day burning the houses and plundering the treasury, and
the next dining and wining Bishop and Governor-and
other grotesque medley of sacking, spoiling and conflagra-
tion, with divers courtesies and "all kindness and favor"-
six weeks passed away. Finally the 12o,ooo ducats de-
manded were laid down; and then the fleet was ready to
set out for the real destination of the enterprise. This
was the Spanish treasure houses at Nombre de Dios and
Panama, where the gold and silver were stored awaiting
transportation to Spain. And thither they would now
have gone but for the raging of a "verie burning and

The Exglisk Sea-Kings. 55

pestilent ague," which had been contracted at St. Iago,
and of which several hundred of the men had already
died. "With the inconvenience of continually mortalities,"
writes the historian of the expedition, "we were forced to
give over our intended enterprise, to goe with Nombre
de Dios, and so overland to Panama, where we should
have strooken the stroke for the treasure, and full
recompence of our tedious travails." Accordingly, with
what plunder they had already secured, they turned their
faces homeward, and set sail for England. On the aoth
of May, being then off the Florida coast, they came in
sight of a watch tower, which was a token to them that
there were Spaniards here. Their hostility to the race
was sufficient inducement for them to approach the land
and fall upon the settlement; but when they found that it
was none other than San Augustin, a more particular mo-
tive urged them on to the attack. This San Augustin
was the town founded by Pedro Menendez d'Aviles, a
Spaniard with whom Admiral Francis Drake and all other
English sea-kings had a long-standing account to adjust.
Twenty years before this, certain Spanish ships of the
Indian fleet, Admiral Don Pedro Menendez d'Avilds in
command, had come upon five brigs flying the Cross of
St. George at the main. Menendez gave chase, overtook
the brigs, delivered his broadside into them and cried,
"Down with your flags, ye English dogs, ye thieves and
pirates !" And in due time, the Englishmen being inca-
pable of defense, the flags came down, and the crews
were handed over to the tortures of the Inquisition.
The memory of this Spanish outrage, as of all others like
it, had been cherished by English sailors; and many a

Old St. Augustine.

captain had looked forward to the time when fate should
make him its chosen avenger. Upon -Menendez himself
retaliation might not be wrought. Death had taken him
away unpunished; but here in Florida was the town
he had planted, and upon it and its people, by a sort of
poetic justice, the debt might now be discharged.
Drake's flagship, the Elisakth Bonaventura, with the
Primrose, the Tyger and the others of the fleet, came to
anchor off the harbor; and manning their pinnaces the
Englishmen set out for the shore. What then transpired
between Spanish soldiers and English sea-kings is related
by Lieutenant Thomas Cates, one of Drake's officers,
whose narrative, told after the manner of his time, is
more befitting than any we could devise, so we will let
him relate it:-
"After three dayes spent in watering our Ships, wee
departed now the second time from this Cape of S. An-
thony, the thirteenth of May, and proceeding about the
Cape of Florida, wee never touched anywhere; but coast-
ing alongst Florida and keeping the shore still in sight,
the 28 of May, early in the morning, wee described on the
shore a place built like a Beacon, which was indeed a
scaffold upon four long mastes raised on ende, for men
to discover to the seaward, being in the latitude of thirtie
degrees, or very neere thereunto. Our Pinnesses manned
and coming to the shore wee marched up alongst the
river side to see what place the enemie held there; for
none amongst us had any knowledge thereof at all.
"Here the Generall tooke occasion to march with the
companies himself in person, the Lieutenant general
having the Vantguard; and going a mile up or somewhat

The English Sea-Kings.

more by the river side, wee might discover on the other
side of the river over against us a Fort, which newly had
bene built by the Spaniards; and some mile or thereabout
above the Fort was a little Towne or Village without
walls, built of wooden houses, as the Plot doeth plainely
shew. Wee forthwith prepared to have ordinance for the
batterie; and one peece was a little before the enemie
planted, and the first shot being made by the Lieutenant
general himself at their Ensigne, strake through the
Ensigne, as wee afterwards understood by a Frenchman,
which came unto us from them. One shot more was then
made, which strake the foote of the Fort wall, which was
all massive timber of great trees like Mastes. The Lieu-
tenant general was determined to passe the river this
night with 4 companies, and there to lodge himself in-
trenched, as neare the Fort as that he might play with
his muskets and smallest shot upon any that should ap-
peare; and so afterwards to bring and plant the batterie
with him: but the helpe of Mariners for that sudden to
make trenches could not be had, which was the cause
that this determination was remitted until the next
night. In the night, the Lieutenant general tooke a
little rowing skiffe and halfe a dozen well armed, as Cap-
taine Morgan and Captaine Sampson, with some others be-
sides the rowers, and went to view what guard the enemie
kept, as also to take knowledge of the ground. And
albeit he went as covertly as might be, yet the enemie
taking an Alarme, grew fearful that the whole force was
approaching to the assault, and therefore with all speed
abandoned the place after the shooting of some of their
peeces. They thus gone and hee being returned unto us

Old St. Augustine.

again, but nothing knowing of their flight from their
Fort, forthwith came a Frenchman, being a Phipher (who
had been prisoner with them*), in a little boat, playing
on his Phiph the tune of the Prince of Orange his song;
and being called unto by the guard he tolde them, before
he put foote out of his boate, what he was himself, and
how the Spaniards were gone from the Fort; offering
either to remain in hands there, or else to return to the
place with them that would goe.
"Upon this intelligence the Generall and the Lieuten-
ant general, with some of the Captaines in one Skiffe,
and the Vice-Admirall with some others in his Skiffe, and
two or three Pinnesses furnished of Souldiers with them,
put presently over towards the Fort, giving order for the
rest of the Pinnesses to follow. And in our approach
some of the enemies, bolder than the rest, having stayed
behind their companies, shot off two pieces of ordinance
at us; but on shore wee went, and entered the place
without finding any man there.
"When the day appeared wee found it bui:t all of tim-
ber, the walles being none other but whole Mastes or
bodies of trees set up right and close together in manner
of a pale, without any ditch as yet made, but wholy in-
tended with some more time; for they had not as yet
finished al their work, having begunne the same some
three or four months before: so as to say the trueth,
they had no reason to keepe it, being subject both to fire
and easie assault.
"The platform whereon the ordinance lay was whole
bodies of long pine trees, whereof there is great plentie,
* A marginal note tells u that this was Nicholas Burgoigne.

The Englikh Sea-Kixrg.

layd a crosse one on another and some little earth
amongst There were in it thirteene or fourteen great
pieces of Brass ordinance and a chest unbroken up,
having in it the value of some two thousand pounds ster-
ling, by estimation, of the King's treasure, to pay the
soldiers of that place, who were a hundred and fiftie
"The Tort thus wonne, which they called S. John's
Fort, and the day opened, wee amsyed to goe to the
towne, but could not, by reason of some rivers and
broken ground which was between the two places: and
therefore being enforced to imbarke again into our Pin-
nesses, wee went thither upon the great maine river,
which is called as also the Towne by the name of S.
"At our approaching to land, there were some that
began to shew themselves, and to bestow some few shot
upon us, but presently withdrew themselves. And in
their running thus away, the Sergeant Major, finding one
of their horses ready sadled and brideled, tooke the
same to follow the chase; and so overgoing all his com-
panic was (by one layd behind a bush) shotte through
the head; and falling down therewith, was by the same
and two or three more stabbed in three or four places of
his body with swords and daggers, before any could
come neere to his rescue. His death was much la-
mented, being in very deede an honest wise Gentleman,
and a soldier of good experience and of as great cour-
age as any man might be.
"In this place called S. Augustin, wee understood the
King did keepe, as is before said, one hundred and fiftie

Old St. Augustine.

soldiers, and at another place, some dozen leagues
beyond to the Northwards, called S. Helena, he did there
likewise keepe an hundred and fiftie more, serving there
for no other purpose than to keepe all other nations from
inhabiting any part of all that coast; the government
whereof was committed to one Pedro Melendez Marquesse,
nephew to that olde Melendez the Admiral, who had
overthrowen Master John Hawkins, in the bay of Mexico,
some seventeene or eighteene yeeres agoe. This Gov-
ernor had charge of both places, but was at this time in
this place, and one of the first that left the same.
"Heere it was resolved in full assembly of Captaines to
undertake the enterprise of S. Helena, and from thence
to seeke out the inhabitation of our English countrymen
in Virginia, distant from thence some sixe degrees
The Englishmen burned the town, demolished Fort
San Juan de Pinos, took on board the cannon and money,
and not forgetting the French fifer, sailed away from San
Augustin. They were deterred by the want of a pilot
from their intended enterprise of St. Helena, and went on
to Virginia. Directed, after the custom of those days, by
the smoke of a great conflagration kindled on the land,
they found Raleigh's people at Roanoke Island; and the
colony was in such sorry plight that they were all taken
aboard. Among the rest was Governor William Lane,
for whom is claimed the credit (disputed by him with
Raleigh and others) of having, on this voyage with Drake
home from San Augustin in the year i586, first intro-
duced into England "that Indian weed they call tabacca
and nicotia, or tobacco." Laden with booty and ran-

The English Sea-Kings.

soms, and its admiral having "made himself a terrible
man to the King of Spain" (as the English Minister
wrote home from Madrid), the fleet entered Plymouth
harbor once more. In the following year Drake made
another expedition to Cadiz, to "singe the King of Spain's
beard;" and then, in i588, Philip's Invincible Armada
at last sweeping down upon England, the Elizabeth Bona-
ventura went into the fight, and Drake and Frobisher
and all other loyal English sea-kings made their valiant,
victorious and forever memorable stand in that great
naval combat, whose like the world had never seen, and
on whose tremendous issue hung the life of Protestant
England and, in after years, the destinies of her colo-
nies in North America.
When the supply ships came from Spain to San
Augustin, with reinforcements for the garrison and ma-
terials for building anew Fort San Juan de Pinos, the
new comers related to those here the fate that had'
overtaken the Armada called the Invincible. And as
they told the bitter story-how of its one hundred and
fifty floating castles ninety-six had gone down, shattered
by English cannon shot and consumed by fire-ships in
the Channel, and engulfed amid the fury of the elements
in the North Sea; and then, how of all its 30,000, sol-
diers, seamen, knights and galley-slaves, barely one-third
had looked upon the shores of Spain again-they men-
tioned, more than once, the English ship, The Revenge,
and its captain, Francis Drake, at whose name the eager
listeners interrupted the tale, and heaped their bitterest
Spanish maledictions on the man who had ravaged their
town and demolished their fort.


*O FLORIDA with the adventurer had come the
missionary; one to win treasure, the other to
win souls. The gold-seeker returned from his
quest chagrined; not so the Franciscan. He found
here a field vast beyond reckoning; and, waiting to be
gathered, a harvest more precious than had been pic-
tured in the fondest dream of his pious enthusiasm.
The military prestige of Florida soon faded away, but
year by year its religious importance increased; and
ever, with the expansion of his work, the Franciscan's
zeal grew more intense and his labors more devoted.
The country was in time erected into a religious prov-
ince, with a chapter house of the Order of San Francisco
at San Augustin; and thence the members went forth to
plant the standard of their faith in the remotest wilder-
ness. Far out on the border of savanna, in the depth of
forest, and on the banks of river and lake, by the side of
the Indian trails westward to the Gulf, north among
the villages of Alachua, and south to everglade fast-
nesses; here and there, and everywhere that lost souls

The Francircans.

were worshipping strange gods, the Franciscan built his
chapel, intrenched it round about with earthwork and
palisade, and gathered the erring children of the forest
to hear the wondrous story of the Cross.
The missionaries came to Florida as messengers of
the Prince of Peace, but not even is this chapter of our
history free from its stain of tragedy. In the ancient
Spanish tome, parchment-bound and blurred with age, in
which are chronicled the passing of the years in this old
city by the sea, amid the records of wars and the exploits
of military personages, a page is now and then devoted
to the labors and sufferings of the Franciscah Fathers;
and among them is a relation of what befell, in the year
1597, at Tolomato and other Indian villages not far from
San Augustin:-
"For two years the friars of San Francisco employed
themselves in preaching to the Indians of Florida. In
the village of Tolemaro, or Tolomato, dwelt Brother
Pedro de Corpa, a renowned preacher and expounder of
the doctrine; against whom arose the eldest son and heir
of the cacique of the island of Guala, who, being dis-
pleased with the blame which Father Corpa had laid
upon him, for being a Christian and living worse than a
Gentile, left the village, because he could not endure
such treatment He, however, returned to the village in
a few days, towards the last of September, bringing many
Indians prepared for war, with bows and arrows, and
adorned with large feathers on their heads; and, entering
silently into the town at night, they went to the house
where the father lived, broke down the frail gates, found
him on his knees, and killed him with a battle-axe.

63 -

Old St. Augustine.

This unexpected atrocity became known in the village,
and although some showed signs of grief and sorrow,
the majority, who were less oppressed threat, on the
appearance of the son of the cacique joined themselves to
him. On the following day he said to them: 'Now the friar
is dead. It would not have been thus had he let us live
as before instead of becoming Christians. Now let us
return to our old customs, and prepare for our defence
against the punishment which the Governor of Florida
will undertake against us, which punishment, if carried
out, will be as severe for this friar alone as it would have
been had we killed them all; for, in just the same way
will we be persecuted for this one friar whom we have
killed, as for all of them.'
"That which was done was newly approved of by
those who followed him; and they said that there was
no doubt that vengeance would be taken the same for
one as for all. Then the barbarian continued: 'Since we
will suffer no more punishment for one than for all, let
us regain the liberty that these friars have taken from us
with promises of benefits that have not appeared, and in
the hope of which they have wished that we should
experience evils and torments-these people whom we
call Christians. They have persecuted our old people,
calling them witches. They have deprived us of our
women, leaving us only one, and she for all time, forbid-
ding us to exchange them. They have broken up our
dances, banquets, feasts, fires and wars, so that, not ac-
customed to them, we are losing the ancient valor and
dexterity of our ancestors. Yet our labor is of some
consequence to them; * and although we are will-

The Franciscas.

ing to do all that they say, yet they are not content
Always they are scolding us, troubling us, oppressing us,
preaching to us, calling us bad Christians, and depriving
us of all the happiness that our ancestors enjoyed. With
the hope that they will give us Heaven, they are deceiv-
ing us by getting us under subjection, working us into
their ways. What have we to look for, if not to be
slaves ? If we put all to death, we throw off this heavy
yoke at once, and our valor will reach the Governor, who
may then treat us well.' The multitude agreed in what
he said; and as a sign of their victory they cut off the
head of Father Corpa, and placed it on a spear in the
door as a trophy of their conquest, and they hid the body
in a wood, where it could never be found.
"Passing to the village of Topiqui, where dwelt Brother
BIAs Rodriguez, they entered suddenly, telling him they
had come to kill him. Brother Bias asked them to allow
him first to say a mass, and they suspended their ferocity
a short time for this; and as soon as he had finished say-
ing it they gave him so many blows that they finished
him, and cast his body out in the field that the birds and
beasts might devour it. But none would approach it
except a dog, who was attracted to it, and touching it,
fell dead. Afterward an old Indian, who was a Christian,
recognized it, and gave it burial in the wood.
"Thence they went to the village of Assopo, in the
island of Guala, where were Brother Miguel de Aufion
and Brother Antonio Badajoz. These knew in advance
their approach; and flight being impossible, Brother
Miguel began to say mass, and Brother Antonio adminis-
tered the Blessed Sacrament, and both engaged in prayer.

Old St. Augstlie.

Por hours after, the Indians entered, and' put Brother
Antonio to death at once with a macana,* and afterwards
gave Brother Miguel two blows with it; and having left
the bodies in the same place, some Christian Indians
buried them at the foot of a very high cross, which this
same Brother Miguel had erected in the field.
"The Indians continued their cruelty, and went in
great haste to the village of Asao, where lived Brother
Francisco de Velascola a native of Castro-Urdiales, a
very poor and humble monk, but of such great strength
that he caused the Indians great fear. He was at that
time in the city of San Augustin. Great was the trouble
of the Indians, because it seemed that they had accom-
plished nothing if they left Brother Francisco alive.
They inquired in the village the day that he would return
to it, and they were at the place where he had to land,
hidden amongst a kind of rushes near the water's edge.
Brother Francisco came in a canoe; and dissimulating
their real purpose, they ran to him and caught him by
the shoulders, giving him many blows with the macanas
and axes, until his soul entered to God.
"They passed on to the village of Aspo, where lived
Brother Francisco Davila, who, as soon as he heard the
tumult through the doorways, took advantage of the
night to escape in the field. The Indians followed him,
and although he had concealed himself in a thicket,
they sent three arrows into his shoulder by the light of
the moon, and trying to follow to finish him, an Indian
interfered, to whom he was left for the poor clothing that
he had, to whom he was delivered naked, and well bound,
SA wood wVepo tpped with lint.

The Franciscams.

and was carried to a village of infidel Indians to be held
in bondage there.
"But the punishment of God did not fail these cruel
ones, for many of them who took part in these murders
were hanged with the cords of their own bows, and others
perished horribly; and throughout the province God sent
a great famine, of which many Indians died."
Other massacres followed. But not thus was the
planting of the Faith in Florida to be arrested, nor thus
were the laborers to be deterred from gathering the har-
vest. Led into deadly ambush by pretended converts,
whose hearts had been seared by Spanish cruelty; smit-
ten down in sacerdotal robe at the very foot of the altar;
their chapels robbed and burned by savage, English sea-
man and Boucanier; their brothers, on the way from
Spain, swallowed up by the sea, in the sight of the con-
vent at San Augustin-through all this, and more, the
Franciscans' zeal endured, and their enthusiasm burned
with an ever brighter glow. Nor was the flame finally
quenched, until that after time, when the British-having
first plundered the chapels and led away the mission
flocks into captivity-came at length into possession of
the country; and the Franciscan departed with the Span-
lard out of Florida.
The accessible records of the Franciscans here are few
and meagre. How far their missions extended, how
numerous were the converts who bowed before their
persuasive eloquence, what they did and endured, their
sufferings and martyrdoms, toils, triumphs and achieve-
ments-these perchance are recorded in the monastic
archives of the order, and thence some time may the

Old St. Augustine.

golden story be yet transcribed, when, indeed, the pen
shall be found that is worthy to write it.
Long years after the Franciscans had abandoned their
missions in Florida, and their chapels had fallen into
decay, the Quaker botanist William Bartram, camping at
night beneath the moss-hung oaks on the border of the
great Alachuan savanna, saw on the dark bosom of an In-
dian woman, suspended by a tiny chain from her wampum
collar and shining in the firelight, a silver crucifix. And
again, in the early years of the present century, a band of
American explorers in the Everglades, penetrating to
Lake Okeechobee, found on one of its islands the ruins
of a structure of stone; and there, overgrown by tangled
verdure, its Ora fro nobis corroded by the elements, its
voice dead with the lapse of untold years, lay a mission
bell, in its silence still eloquent of the sunny days, long
ago, when the worshippers gathered at its call; and the
dusky hunter halted in the chase, and the women paused
in the maize fields, to kneel with uncovered head at the
ringing of the Angelus.

~_ __



* A SIEMPRE FIEL CIUDAD-the ever-faithful
city-was planted here by the-sea, to take what
fortune the fates might send. In z665 they
sent the Boucaniers.
The domestic animals imported by Columbus and his
followers into the island of Hispaniola, and abandoned
there when the mines had been exhausted, reverted to a
wild state and increased and multiplied. Herds of
horses and cattle pastured on the savannas, droves of
hogs made their lair in the jungles; and packs of dogs,
sprung from those brought by the Spaniards to hunt the
Indians, ranged over the island, savage as wolves and
preying on the cattle and swine. A band of French sea-
rovers came to the northern coast of the island in 163o,
and finding the game there worthy of their prowess,
established a colony of hunters and butchers. Armed
with heavy muskets and attended by the dogs, which
they tamed and trained to assist them in the chase, these
men spent their lives in the pursuit of the huge prey,
upon whose flesh they depended for subsistence. The

Old St. Augwstine.

meat was prepared after the Carib fashion, being smoked
or boucaned (from the Indian word owcas), whence the
hunters received their name of Boucaniers. Their life
was one of continuous hardship and hazard. Engaged
one day in terrible conflict with the wild bulls, and the
next in yet more desperate fray with the Spanish
lanceros, who were sent to drive them from Hispaniola,
they became inured to the most extreme physical priva-
tion, and grew in spirit as fierce as their savage prey.
The ranks of the first comers were subsequently recruited
by the arrival of other lawless French and Dutch, until,
having gained strength by these repeated acessions, they
intrenched themselves in impregnable island strongholds
and successfully repulsed the Spanish expeditions sent to
dislodge them.
At length, apprehensive of the growing power of these
voluntary exiles so strongly banded together, and having
utterly failed to overcome them by other expedients,
Spain landed her troops and waged a war of extermina-
tion upon the wild cattle of Hispaniola. The game thus
destroyed, and with its destruction their means of sub-
sistence gone, the Boucaniers exchanged one savage
occupation for another. From seeking food, they turned
to seek revenge; from the forests, they took to the sea;
from hunting wild bulls, they went to hunting Spaniards.
The name Boucanier no longer signified the inoffensive
hunter, living on his kwas; taking on a new and
ominous import, it meant the sea-rover, whose whole soul
was intent upon revenge, and who lived only that he
might pursue his enemy. The first and true sea Boun
caniers were not pirates, waging an indiscriminate war on

TMu Bowasars.

all mariners; they singled out Spanish ships. Their im-
pelling motive was not greed, but hate. Afterwards
these hunter-seamen from Hispaniola, the Boucaniers
proper, were joined by other freebooters. There was,
for instance, the gay Parisian, Ravenau de Susson, who,
being heavily in debt and desirous of extricating himself
from his pecuniary embarrassments in an honorable man-
ner, enlisted with the Boucaniers, that he might have
wherewithal to satisfy his creditors. Another French-
man, Montebaro, reading of the execrable cruelties of the
Spaniards in America, conceived so violent a hatred of
them that he speedily set out to the West Indies,
where he became a Boucanier chief and won and wore
right worthily his cognomen of "The Exterminator."
Absolved from the laws and customs of their native
land, the Boucaniers devised a code of their own for the
conduct of their enterprises and the division of tooty.
When a prize had been taken, an indemnity was first
paid to such as had been wounded in the action, the
amount awarded each one being proportioned to the
nature of his injury; and if a comrade had been killed
in the fray his share was given to some hospital, and the
beneficiary was admonished to pray for the soul of the
dead. The wounded and killed having thus been
provided for, the rest of the plunder was divided equally,
share and share alike, each man taking an oath on his
gun that he had kept nothing back; and if any liar was
detected among them, him, taking to a desert island, they
left to starve; and his share of the prize went to purchase
masses for the souls of comrades slain in the fight.
No sooner had the Boucanirs been driven from their

Old St. Augustine.

island retreat than they became the scourge of the Span-
ish Main. Boucanier sail hovered about the plate-fleets;
and woe to the galleon that lagged behind or was sepa-
rated from her convoys; the rovers fell to the attack, be
the odds what they might. It is related that Pierre-le-
Grand, one of these first of the hunter-avengers, put to
sea with twenty-eight men in a canoe, and at dusk bore
down on a huge treasure-laden galleon. Rowing along-
side in the darkness, the adventurers scuttled their
canoe, scrambled for very life over the rails of the ship,
and before the dumbfounded crew recovered from their
terror at what they cried out were veritable devils from
the deep, made themselves masters of the prize. Such
was their warfare. The sight of a Spanish sail was ever
a signal for pursuit. Were the chances desperate, so was
the onslaught terrific; the crew knelt on the deck for
prayer, then went into the fight with the fury of demons.
Not content with devastating the seas, the .Boucaniers
sacked the ports, and marching overland, plundered the
rich cities of the interior. The appearance of their ships
on the coast was everywhere greeted with alarm; before
their coming the citizens retired into the citadels, or fled
in consternation to the wilderness.
From such a band of hostile sea-rovers preying upon
the Spanish possessions in America San Augustin could
not hope for immunity. The attack came in x665, and
in this wise.
A certain Dutch Boucanier, John Davis, having
cruised long without taking a prize, resolved upon
the sacking of Granada, a town of New Spain, forty
leagues inland, and defended by a garrison of 8oo troops.

The Boucaners.

Coming upon the coast in the night, Davis concealed his
ship among the mangroves of the lagoon, and with sixty
men in three canoes set out on his perilous enterprise.
They rowed up the stream by night, and during the day
lay concealed in the thick foliage of the banks. The
third midnight they reached the gate of the city. To
the sentinel's challenge the first comers replied that they
were fishermen. He admitted them. They stabbed him.
Then they separated; and going in different directions
through the silent streets, knocked at the houses. The
doors were opened as to friends. In rushed the Bou-
caniers, and rummaged for plunder. From the dwellings
they hurried to ransack the churches, pillaged the plate
and stripped the ornaments from the altars. Roused out of
its midnight slumber by these invaders-none knew whom
nor whence-the city straightway was in an uproar. Tre-
mendous was the hurly-burly. On every side were heard
cries and lamentations of those who had been robbed.
Recovering their wits, the citizens rallied, rang the alarm-
bells, beat the drum, and rushed to arms. Suddenly as
they had come, the Boucaniers were off again. Well
laden with plunder, and carrying along some prisoners,
they made all haste to the lagoon, where their ships were
awaiting them; exchanged their captives for a ransom of
beef; up with their sails; and drew out from shore just in
time to escape a volley of bullets, sent after them by 5oo
Spanish infantry, who came dashing on the double-quick
down to the water's edge. With their booty of above
4,ooo pieces-of-eight* in ready money, besides great
quantities of plate uncoined and many jewels, all of
A Spsnih coin of the value of one dollar.

Ocvd AS. Rauwstsu&

which was computed to be worth the sum of 5o,*0
piecesof-eight or more, they sailed away to Jamaica.
"But as this sort of people," says an old writer who was
himself a Boucanier, "are never masters of their money
but a very little while, so were they'soon constrained to
seek more by the same means they had used before."
His exploit at Granada having caused Captain John
Davis to be esteemed an able commander of such enter-
prises, presently after his return to Jamaica he Was chosen
admiral of a fleet of seven or eight B6ucanier ships; and
sailed away to the north of Cuba, where he lay in wait
to intercept the plate-fleets on their way to Spain. Days,
weeks and months went by, but no treasure ships came;
and his patience at length being exhausted, the redoubt-
able admiral bethought him of some other luckless Span-
ish town upon which to make proof of his valor. And
so it came to pass that, one fine morning in the year 1665,
the sentinel in the watch-tower opposite San Augu-
tin, having described to the south a Boucanier sail,
fired the alarm-gun and hoisted the signal flag. Hearing
and seeing which, the distracted inhabitants took to their
heels-the garrison after them; and all together fled into
the interior. There, the Boucaniers behind and the
savages in front, with what fortitude they could muster
they lay in concealment; until the invaders, having found
neither victims nor booty, demolished the houses, and
put to sea again. Ils n'y frent paf grand bu, car ks
Habitans do ce lieu sonfortpauvres, says the record-"they
did not find much booty, for the people of this town are
very poor."




H HE two fortified strongholds of Pencacola on the
Gulf and San Augustin on the Atlantic; here
a fort and there a watch-tower; and scattered
through the province a score or two of intrenched mis-
sion posts-this was Florida, a century and a half after
Menendez had come to establish his Western empire. Of
the Spanish possessions north of Mexico, San Augustin
was still the most important, and the completion of its
elaborate defenses was the task of the King's agents
here. From Old Spain and the Havannah the cartel-
ships brought fresh bands of convicts, to join the cap-
tive Indians in their toil at the fortifications; year after year
the chain-gangs hewed the blocks of coquina shell-stone
from the quarries on St. Anastatia Island; the galley-slaves
ferried their burdens over the Matanzas; and tier upon tier
rose the curtains and bastions, and above them the ramparts
and battlements, of Fort San Marco. The expenditure of
treasure, toil and life, through all these years, was not to be
in vain; the castle was destined yet to withstand the shock
of war, that else would drive the Spaniard from Florida.

Old St. Augustine.

New foes menaced San Augustin. English planters
had come to establish the colony of Carolina. This was
a trespass upon Spanish territory, and was promptly
resented. Emulating the zeal of Menendez, the Governor
of San Augustin dispatched his galleys to exterminate
the intruders; but his well-laid plans miscarried; and the
fruitless expedition came back in disgrace.* Years of
contention followed. The pirates, who preyed on Spanish
commerce, found ready protection in Charles Town, and
sold their booty there; the Carolina tribes captured
Spanish Indians, and took them to the English merchants,
who traded them off for rum and sugar in the West
Indies. The Spanish Governor, in turn, promised the
indentured white servants of the British colonists protec-
tion and liberty in Florida, proclaimed freedom for run-
away slaves from Carolina plantations, and welcomed all
fugitives from justice. For the outrages suffered at the
hands of the other, each race sought retaliation. Fleets
of galleys went out to plunder and burn the Carolina
The spirit of the time is shown by the following incidents, met forth in the
report of a committee of the Commons House of Assembly of the Province of
South Carolina, 1740:-" In r686 * Lord Cardros * having
just come over and settled at Beaufort on Port-Royal with a number of North-
Britons, the Spaniards coming in Three Galleys from Augustine landed upon them,
killed and whipped a great many, after taken, in a most cruel and barbarous
manner; plundered them all and broke up that Settlement. The same Galleys
* run up next to Bear Bluff on North Edito River, where these Spaniards
again landed, burnt the Houses, plundered the Settlers, and took Ladgrave Mor-
ton's Brother Prisoner. Their further Progress was happily prevented by a
Hurricane, which drove two of the Galleys up so high on the Land that not being
able to get one of them off again and the Country being by that time suiciently
Alarmed, they thought proper to make a Retreat, but finrt et Fire to that Galley
on board of which Mr. Morton was actually then in Chain and most inhumanly
burnt in her." Hewit (History of South Carolina) tell us that Sullivan's Iland
received its name from ne Florence O'Sullivan, to whom the mttlenr gave a great
gun, "which he placed on an island the mouth of the harbor, to alarm
the town in cases of Invasion from the Spaniards."

British Cannon Balls.

settlements; and the English invaded Florida and ad-
vanced upon San Augustin.
In 1702, with an army of regulars, militia and Indians,
came Governor Moore, of Carolina, to chastise the Span-
iard, sack the town, demolish the castle and lead home a
retinue of Indian slaves. At his approach, garrison and
townspeople withdrew into Fort San Marco, shut them-
selves in with supplies for four months, raised the draw-
bridge and laughed defiance at the British forces.
Moore invested the castle and entered upon a regular
siege. There were sorties, feints and strategies. The
siege was maintained for three months; and then, tired of
the fruitless bombardment, Moore dispatched one of his
officers to Jamaica for heavier artillery. Hardly had the
ship disappeared to the southward, when two vessels, fly-
ing the Spanish ensign, hove in sight off the bar. Presto !
the siege was raised; ships, stores and ammunition aban-
doned; and the Englishmen incontinently vanished.
Back, three hundred miles overland to Charles Town,
went Moore; and out from behind the coquina bastions
came the released Spaniards, and set about the task of
building anew their burned dwellings.
Four years later an armament set sail from San Augus-
tin bent on the destruction of the British. When they
arrived off the coast, the columns of smoke on Sullivan's
Island signaled their coming; thunder of alarm-gun, roll
of drum and clatter of mounted couriers spread the
tidings; and obedient to the call, the planters rallied to
Charles Town, repulsed the Spaniards, took 300 prison-
ers, and drove the rest back to the shelter of San

78 Old St. Augustie.

Mock warfare this. But where Spanish prowess availed
naught, Spanish craft might yet triumph; where pike and
bullet failed, the scalping-knife might yet do its work.
The Indian received his commission, and terrible was its
execution. Persuaded that the English were heretics,
who must go to perdition, whither the savage too must
follow, unless he drove them from the land-Yemassee,
Creek and Cherokee fell upon the Carolina settlers in
midnight surprise, massacred men, women and children;
and frenzied with their success, brought the scalps in
triumph to San Augustin, where ringing of bells and
firing of guns welcomed them, and gave token of the
general rejoicing here.
Meanwhile the English colony of Georgia was founded,
with outposts planted on the very peninsula of Florida;
and now more bitter than ever grew the warfare. English
scout-boats patrolled the inland waters, and cut off the
escape of runaway Carolina slaves, on their way to join
the regiment of negro fugitives at San Augustin. Spanish
costa-guardas cruised off the Georgia and Carolina har-
bors, intercepted English merchant ships, and brought
the crews to join the chain-gangs in the Anastatia quar-
ries. Once, indeed, there came a lull, when Governor
Don Francisco del Moral assented to a proposal for the
adjustment of the boundary dispute. But for such a
lack of spirit, unbecoming a Spaniard and unworthy the
Governor of Florida, Don Moral was speedily summoned
home to Madrid, where by royal decree his head was
severed from his shoulders, and his estate sequestered
for the defenses of San Augustin; and under new rule,
the town resumed once more its martial air, and made

British Cannon Balls. 79

ready, as well indeed it might, to withstand yet again
the attack of its foes.
In June, 1740, Governor Oglethorpe, of Georgia, set
out with an army by land and a fleet by sea to destroy
San Augustin and drive the Spaniard out of Florida.
"If it shall please God to give you success," ran the
royal instructions from the English King, George II.,
"you are either to demolish the fort and bastions, or put
a garrison in it, to prevent the Spaniards from endeavour-
ing to retake and settle the said place again at any
time hereafter." But neither King of England nor
Governor of Georgia knew the strength of the coquina
walls it was thus proposed to overthrow.
The British mustered all their forces: the Grena-
diers from Gibraltar; kilted Highlanders armed with
Claymores and marching to the bagpipes; Saltzburger
religious refugees, who had heard the story of the
Huguenots' fate in Florida; Carolina militia, intent on
avenging the savage massacres of their friends; and a
troop of Carolina Indians, eager to wreak their hatred on.
the Spaniards. The hosts came on as to victory. Fort
San Mateo capitulated at their approach. They drove in
the Horse Guards from the San Juan, carried Fort San
Francisco de Poppa by assault, routed the garrison from
Fort Picolata, captured the fortified plantation of San
Diego; and advancing within two miles of the town
itself, stormed Fort Moosa, which was occupied by a
regiment of runaway Carolina slaves, and drove its
garrison into San Augustin.
Now the time was come to prove the strength of
coquina-built San Marco. Within its walls a strange

Old St. Augustine.

assemblage was gathered. The inhabitants of the town,
old and young, had flocked to its protection; and with
them were the garrison of regulars, the host of friendly
Indians, the negro troops, and the convicts, now given
their liberty and supplied with arms. Altogether, shut
up in the fort, were 3,000 souls.
The British fleet, with Oglethorpe in command, arrived
off the bar; the troops disembarked; the cannon were
landed; and batteries were planted on St. Anastatia
Island, opposite the fort, and at Point San Mateo on the
north shore of the harbor. Mortar and coehom opened
fire on San Marco; and the Governor of Georgia de-
manded of the Governor of Florida to surrender. To the
summons, Manuel de Montiano sent back an answer
worthy the gallant Spanish Don he was, swearing "by
the Holy Cross that he would defend the castle to the
last drop of his blood; and he hoped soon to kiss his
Excellency's hand within its walls." A trial of
strength ensued; but it was not of coquina battlements
against the crashing of cannon balls. For twenty suc-
cessive days the batteries on Anastatia discharged their
missiles, and the walls of San Marco did not tremble.
The struggle was fiercer than one of arms. Spanish
fortitude was pitted against the pangs of starvation;
English constitutions were matched against the fierce
summer heat and the maddening insect hordes of Anas-
tatia Island. Week after week went by. The beleag-
ured Spaniards grew gaunt with famine. The British,
wilting beneath the sun,were prostrated by fevers. On
both sides the struggle was most desperate; but in the
end the Spaniard triumphed. Montiano's piteous

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British Cannon Balls. 81

appeals were borne down the coast by Indian runners,
and taken over by messengers in canoes to the Gov-
ernor of Cuba; and at last succor came. The rescuers
eluded the vigilance of Oglethorpe, smuggled in the pro-
visions past the English scout-boats, and by night came
to the salvation of the 3,000 famishing wretches in the
fort; whereupon-since a full stomach makes a brave
heart-the Spaniards took courage again. But to the
British, time brought no alleviation of their woes. With
the approach of July the summer's heat grew more piti-
less; the sandflies, the gnats and mosquitoes, in ever
multiplying hosts, rallied yet more furiously to their gall-
ing onslaught. Then came a new peril, a force against
whose overwhelming might resolution and valor counted
as nothing. It was that agency which two hundred ye rs
before had risen to drive the foes of San Augustin to ruin.
The tempests began to blow; and fearing lest the fate of
Ribault's fleet should be their own, the British captains
slipped their cables; and putting to sea, sailed for home.
Oglethorpe followed. Abandoning artillery, boats and
stores (at which last the Spaniards were filled with won-
der and gratitude), the English general crossed over to
the mainland north of the fort, and with drums beating
and colors flying, marched away to the San Juan's, and
thence in periaguas made his retreat back to Georgia.
There, in good time, Montiano followed, at the head of
fifty-three ships and 5,ooo troops, to exterminate the
colonies of Georgia and Carolina, as well as all to the
north of them; and so, once for all, to drive the British
out from North America. At St. Simon's Island Ogle-
thorpe met him. For fifteen days, with an army of 625

Old St Augustie.

the vacant Englishman held the Spaniard's 5,ooo at bay;
by bold stratagem repulsed and drove them back; and
following close upon their heels, chased them to the very
bars of San Augustin and Matanzas; and so made good
that memorable deliverance of Georgia, "which," George
Whitefield wrote, "was such as cannot be paralleled but
by some instances out of the Old Testament."
So the farcical and fruitless warfare went on twenty
years longer, as it might have continued to this day, had
not the mother countries put an end to the contentions of
their colonial children. By the treaty of 1763, England,
having previously by force of arms gained possession of
Cuba, restored that island to Spain; and Spain in return
made over to England her possessions in Florida. By
this exchange the San Augustin of the Spaniards became
the Saint Augustine of the English; and over the battle-
ments of San Marco, which had so long and so bravely
held out against the shock of British cannon balls, floated
the Cross of St. George.

L. -~ V ART. II 21K-h



N the Mediterranean, seventy miles from the
coast of Spain, lies Minorca. The white cliffs
rise abrupt from a crystal sea. Olive-embos-
omed villages nestle on the slopes; and beyond, purple in
the distance, towers the mountain peak of El Toro, the
convent of Our Lady of the Bull glistening like a star
on the summit. The people are simple-hearted, honest,
industrious. Travelers tell us that robbery and begging
are unknown in Minorca.
The island has been known in history; here and there,
amid its orange groves and palms and vineyards, are mon-
uments of fallen races. Druidical monoliths stand
mysterious, as they have endured for centuries;
picturesque remains of Moorish watchtowers crown the
summits near the sea; mediaeval fortifications crumble on
the crests of inland hills, scanty patches of wheat are
grown in the moats of ancient castles; the ilex and the
cactus clothe the ruins of long deserted monasteries.
Minorca (named by its Roman conquerors, the Less)
and Majorca (the Greater) belong to the group of

Old St. Augustine.

Balearic Islands. The name Balearic, derived from a
Greek v.-ord meaning to throw, was given to them because
the islanders were famous for their skill with the sling,
as are the Minorcan shepherds to this day. In ancient
times, when the Carthagenians wanted strong-armed sling-
ers to fight their battles, they found them in the Balearic
Islands; in the Fifteenth century, when Spain needed
timber for her treasure ships, she built whole fleets from
the forests of Majorca; in the early part of the Seven-
teenth century, when the Indian tribes of the Pacific
coast of North America were waiting for the message of
the Cross, Majorca sent them Father Junipero, to found
the Franciscan Missions of California; in the middle of
the Eighteenth century, when certain English planters
required stout-hearted colonists to till their indigo planta-
tions in the new British province of Florida, they sought
them in Minorca; and a hundred years later, when
America, in the desperate throes of civil war, called
for a hero to take her fleet through the smoke and flame
of New Orleans and past the rebel forts in Mobile Bay,
she found that hero in the son of a Minorcan father.
In the year 1767, a company of London capitalists,
represented by one Dr. Andrew Turnbull, brought out to
their grant in Florida fifteen hundred colonists. They
were chiefly Minorcans, with a few Greeks and Italians.
The site of the plantation, fifty miles below St. Augustine,
on Musquito Inlet, was named by Turnbull, after his
Greek wife's birth place, New Smyrna. It was a fertile
ridge of land, where the magnolia bloomed and the
orange grew wild with the jasmine. Here the Minorcans
built their palmetto huts; set out about the doorways the

The Minorcans.

cuttings of vine and fig from their Mediterranean island
home; and incited by the bright promises of reward,
entered bravely and with hopeful hearts upon the task
of preparing the wilderness for the crops of sugar and
The illusion, like many another here in Florida before
and since, was all too soon dispelled. It was the
rehearsal of a story old as the days of the Israelites in
Egypt: on one hand, violated pledges, treachery, exacting
tyranny and cruelty born of cupidity; on the other, un-
requited toil, patient suffering, and at the last a broken
After two weary years had passed, driven to despera-
tion by the inhuman rule of their taskmasters and in par-
ticular (since the names of petty tyrants do not always
perish with their bodies) of one Cutter, the unhappy
colonists resolved upon flight. To this end, having
seized some small craft in the harbor, they fitted them
out from the abundant stores hoarded in the warehouses;
and were embarking for the Havannah, when a detach-
ment of English infantry appeared upon the scene, by
forced march from St. Augustine, arriving just in time to
intercept the fugitives. The leaders were arrested. The
grand jury convened. The forms of law were observed;
and the court sat to do justice between the great planter
and his New Smyrna colonists. The plaintiff, Turnbull,
was an influential personage in the province, a man whose
favor every one was eager to curry. The accused were
friendless, indentured hirelings-regarded as little better
than slaves. Of such a trial there could be but one
ending. Five of the accused were condemned to death;

Old St. Augustine.

one as the ringleader, another for shooting a cow (a
capital offence in the English code of the time), a third
for having lopped off an ear and two fingers of the task-
master Cutter, and the others fdr their raid on the store-
houses. Two of the condemned were pardoned; which
two we are not told, but it is a pleasure to fancy that one
may have been the ear-smiter. To perform the judicial
murder of the rest was a task that none of the officials
coveted; and one of the condemned was given his life
upon condition that he would act as the executioner of the
two others. "On this occasion," writes the English sur-
veyor Bernard Romans, one of the jurors who convicted
them, "I saw one of the most moving scenes I ever experi-
rnced. Long and obstinate was the struggle of this
man's mind, who repeatedly called out that he chose to
die rather than be the executioner of his friends in dis-
tress. This not a little perplexed Mr. Woolridge, the
sheriff, till at length the entreaties of the victims them-
selves put an end to the conflict in his heart by encourag-
ing him to act. Now we beheld a man, thus compelled
to mount the ladder, take leave of his friends in the most
moving manner, kissing them the moment before he
committed them to an ignominious death."
So the revolt at New Smyrna was put down; and the
colonists went back to their taskmasters and indigo fields.
The crop-eared Cutter, we may be sure, had his revenge;
but, as in due time every rascal must get his deserts,
shortly thereafter he died a lingering death, "having
experienced," says the chronicle, "besides his wounds,
the terrors of a coward in power overtaken by venge-'

The Minorcans.

The wmongs of the Minorcans in Florida were the talk
of the Southern colonies; but no one interfered in their
behalf, for no one had courage to incur the enmity of
Turnbtll. Worn out by toil, famishing for food,
pining for their island home beyond the sea, the unhappy
exiles wasted away. The death rate was terrible. In
nine years from their coming, the I5oo had shrank to
6oo. The condition of the survivors was little better
than slavery; indeed, did they attempt to escape, negroes
on the neighboring plantations carried them bac and
received from the tyrant a reward.
The weary years went by. Seven summers the Minor-
cans tilled the indigo fields; seven harvest times they
crushed the sugar cane. At length came the end.
In Florida, two hundred years before, the religious
intolerance of Europe had been reflected in the conflict
of Spaniard and Frenchman at Fort Caroline; and the
Massacre of St. Bartholomew had been foreshadowed in
the slaughter of the Huguenots at Matanzas. So now,
here at New Smyrna was to be enacted on mimic scale
a movement engaging the attention of the world. It
was 1776-a momentous year for British misrule in
America. Revolt was in the air. The oppressed colony
at New Smyrna caught the spirit of the times.
It was a trivial circumstance that brought about the
uprising of the Minorcans. A party of gentlemen had
gone down from St. Augustine to New Smyrna, to
inspect the great canals, the stone piers and the
magnificent new mansion of the proprietor; to learn the
methods of indigo culture, and to test the virtues of
the famous rum made from 'Dr. Turnbull's sugar

Old St. Augustine.

cane. As they were admiring the thrifty condition of
the plantation and smacking their lips over the rum,
one of them, noticing the squalor and misery of the
laborers, observed to a companion that the Governor
at St. Augustine ought to interfere to protect them. This
remark of one of Turnbull's guests led to a revolution.
A Minorcan boy heard it. He repeated it to his mother;
she to trusted friends. A whispered conference, a secret
meeting, a midnight consultation-and the plan was
devised to reach the ear of the Governor. Three of the
men, having performed their allotted tasks before the
time appointed by the overseer, asked and were granted
permission to go down the coast to hunt for turtles.
They set out and went with all speed, not south for
turtles, but north for liberty. Following the beach,
skulking through the woods, swimming the inlet at
Matanzas, they hurried on to St. Augustine. Here they
were given audience, assured of protection, and then
sent back to lead their people out of bondage. Other
secret meetings were held, and preparations for flight
soon made. They had no household gods to trans-
port. No one lingered this time for cuttings of vine and
fig tree. Pellicier, head carpenter, was chosen to the
command. He formed them in a hollow square. In the
center were the aged, the infirm and the mothers with
babes in arms; in the outer ranks the men and
boys, equipped with clubs, wooden spears and such rude
weapons as could be improvised in the emergency.
Bidding farewell to their palmetto huts, the strange band
of fugitives set out for the city of refuge. They went
this time not skulking along the coast, but marching

The Minrwcaxs.

boldly along the open King's Road. The overseers pur-
sued. Little they cared for overseers now. Turnbull
himself, returning home to find his plantation deserted,
in hot haste followed after. What feared they from
Turnbull now ? He might ride back to New Smyrna, or
on to St. Augustine, as he liked; it mattered not to them.
At night they camped beneath the pines. The next day
they marched on again. Before sunset of the third day,
the motley band came straggling into St. Augustine.
Again the jury was impanelled; and the court con-
vened to do justice between the English planter and his
Minorcan laborers. This time, no provisions had been
stolen, no cow shot, no taskmaster's ear curtailed; nor
could Turnbull invent any other pretext why the ring-
leaders of this new revolt should be hung. The pinched
faces and hungry eyes of his victims pleaded too well
the pathetic story of their wrongs. This time, again,
the trial could have but one ending. The planter was
rebuked; the fugitives were declared to be free. Thus,
in 1776, for the Minorcans in -Florida, after nine years
servitude, was made good their declaration of independ-
The refugees from New Smyrna had come to St.
Augustine in the midst of stirring events. They saw
the leaders of the great Revolution in the North burned
in effigy on the public square; and with the loyal citizens
of the town many of the Minorcans enlisted in the Florida
Rangers, andwent out to fight the traitors of the neigh-
boring colonies. Led by the notorious Colonel Browne,
the recruits in the service of the King saw hard fighting,
and before the war was over had abundant opportunity

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