4. IV.
GOURGUES DECLARES HIS PURPOSE TO HIS FOLLOWERS, IN A
SPEECH.
His worst dangers of the sea were over. He was now within
two hundred leagues of Florida, his prows looking, with unobstructed
vision, directly towards the enemies he sought. And
now, for the first time, he deemed it proper to unfold to his people
the true object of the expedition. He assembled together all
his followers:
“Friends and comrades,” he said, “I have hitherto deceived
you as to my objects. They were of a sort to require, in the distracted
condition of our country, the utmost secrecy. It so happens
that France, torn by rival religious factions, is not properly
sensible of what is due to her honor and her people. I have
chosen you, as persons whom I mostly know, as persons who know
me, and have confidence in my courage, my honor, and my judgment.
I have chosen you to achieve a great work for the honor
of the French name, and for the safety of the French people.
Though we quarrel and fight among ourselves at home, yet should
it be a common cause, without distinction of party, to protect our
people against the foreign enemy, and to avenge the cruelties they
have been made to suffer. It is for a purpose of this nature, that
I have brought you hither. I have heard many of you speak
with tears and rage of the great crime of which the Spaniards,
under Melendez, have been guilty, in butchering our unhappy
countrymen in Florida; nine hundred widows and orphans have
cried in vain for vengeance upon the cruel murderers. You know
all this terrible history—you are Frenchmen and brethren of these
unfortunate victims. You know the crime of our enemies, the
Spaniards; always our enemies, and never more so than when they
profess peace to us, and speak with smiles. What should be our
crime, if we suffer them to escape just punishment for their
butchery; if, with the means of vengeance in our hands, and our
enemies before us, we longer delay the hour of retribution? We
must avenge the murder of our countrymen; we must make the
Spaniards of Florida atone, in blood, for the shame and affront
which they have put upon the lilies of France! If you feel as I
do, the day of vengeance and just judgment is at hand. That I
am resolute in this object—that it fills my whole soul with but
one feeling—my whole mind with but one thought—you may
know, when you see that I have sold all my wordly goods, all the
possessions that I have on earth, in order to obtain the means for
the destruction of these Spaniards of Florida. I take for granted
that you feel with me, that you are as jealous of the honor of
your country as myself, and that you are prepared for any sacrifice—life
itself—in this cause, at once so glorious, and so necessary
to the fame and safety of our people. If our Frenchmen
are to be butchered without a cause, and find no avenger, there is
an end of the French name, and honor, and well-being; they will
find no refuge on the face of the earth. Speak, then, my comrades.
Let me hear that you feel and think and will resolve with
me. I ask you to do nothing, and to peril nothing, beyond myself.
I have already staked all my worldly fortunes on this one
object. I now offer to march at your head, to give you the first
example of self-sacrifice. Is there one of you who will refuse to
follow?”
A speech so utterly unexpected, at first took his followers by
surprise; but the appeal was too grateful to their real sympathies,
their commander too much beloved, and the infusion of genuine
Gascons too large among the adventurers, to make them hesitate
in their decision. They felt the justice of the appeal; were
warmed to indignation by the sense of injury and discredit cast
upon the honor and the arms of France; and, soon recovering
from their astonishment, they eagerly pledged themselves to follow
wherever he should lead. With cries of enthusiasm they declared
themselves ready for the work of vengeance; and, taking
them in the humor which he had inspired, De Gourgues suffered
not a moment's unnecessary delay to interfere with his progress.
Crowding all sail upon his vessels, he rapidly crossed the straits of
Bahama, and stretched, with easy course, along the low shores of
the Floridian.
