University of Virginia Library

24. XXIII.
THE FORTUNES OF RIBAULT.

1. CHAPTER I.

Having thus rendered himself master of La Caroline, effectually
displacing the Huguenots from the region which they had
acquired, and maintained so long through so many vicissitudes,
Melendez prepared to hurry back to his camp on the banks of the
Selooe. He but lingered to review the force of the garrison, and
with his own hands, fresh reeking with the blood of his slaughtered
victims, to lay the foundations of a church dedicated to the
God of Mercy, when he set forth with the small body of troops,
which he reserved to himself from the number that accompanied
his expedition, scarcely a hundred men, impatient for return, lest
Ribault, escaping from the storm, should visit upon his settlement
at St. Augustine the same wrath which had lighted upon La
Caroline. The heavy torrents from which he had already suffered
so much continued to descend as before, and the whole face of the
country was inundated; his people suffered inconceivably upon the
march, but the Adelantado was superior to the sense of suffering.
He felt himself too much the especial favorite of God, to suffer

himself to doubt that the toils and inconveniences of such a progress
as that before him, were anything but tests of his fidelity,
and the means by which the Deity designed to prepare him properly
for the holy service which was expected at his hands. He
reached his camp in safety. His arrival was the source of a great
triumph and an unexpected joy. Here he had been reported as
having perished, with all his army, at the hands of the French.
The deserters, who had abandoned him on the route, in certain
anticipation of this fate, had not scrupled to spread this report by
way of excusing their own inconstancy and fears. His people
accordingly passed instantly from the extremity of terror to that
of joy and triumph. They marched out, en masse, at his approach,
to welcome him as the vanquisher of the heretics; the priests at
their head, bearing the cross of Christ, the conqueror, and chanting
Te Deum, in exultation at the twofold conquest which he had won,
at the expense equally of their own, and the enemies of the church.

His triumphs were not without some serious qualifications. In
the midst of their joy, an incendiary, as he supposed, had reduced
to ashes the remaining vessels in the harbor. A portion of his
garrison, a little after, showed themselves in mutiny against their
officers, this spirit having been manifested before his departure
for La Caroline. He was apprised also of a mishap to one of his
greater ships, the San Pelayo, which had been sent to Hispaniola,
filled with captive Frenchmen taken at different periods, and who
were destined to suffer the question as heretics in the Inquisition of
the mother country. These had risen upon the crew, overpowered
them, captured the vessel, and carried her safely into Denmark.

While meditating, and seeking to repair some of these mishaps,
Melendez received intelligence of Ribault and his fleet, which
caused him some inquietude. His own shipping being destroyed,

his future safety depended wholly upon the condition of Ribault's
armament, since, with their small vessels, his harborage might be
entered at any moment, and his sole means of defence lay with his
troops upon the land, where his entrenchments were not yet sufficiently
advanced to offer much, if any obstacle, to a vigorous
assailant. But farther advices, brought him by the savages,
relieved him measurably from any apprehensions from the shipping
of his enemy. In this respect the condition of the French
was no better than his own. The unfortunate Ribault, driven
before the hurricane, had been wrecked with all his squadron,
upon the bleak and unfriendly shores of Cape Cannaverel; his
troops were saved, with the exception of the crew and armament
of one vessel, containing a detachment under the Sieur de la
Grange, all of whom perished but the captain. Dividing his
troops into two or more bodies, Ribault advanced along the shore,
proceeding northerly, in the direction of La Caroline, and one of
his detachments had reached the inlet of Matanzas, when Melendez
was first advised of their approach. He was told by the
Indians that about four leagues distant, a large body of white men
were embarrassed in their progress by a bay, over which they had
no means to pass. Upon this intelligence, the Adelantado, taking
with him forty picked soldiers, proceeded with all despatch to the
designated place. His proceedings were marked by subtlety and
caution. With such a force, he could hope to do nothing in open
warfare against the numbers of Ribault, which, after all casualties,
were probably six or seven hundred men. But nobody knew
better than Melendez how to supply the deficiencies of the lion
with the arts of the fox. He concealed his troop in the woods
that bordered the inlet, and from the top of a tree surveyed the
scattered groups of Frenchmen on the opposite shore. They
were two hundred in number, and some of them had been engaged
in the construction of a raft with which to effect their passage.
But the roughness of the waters, and the strength of the current
forbade their reliance upon so frail a conveyance, and while they
were bewildered with doubt and difficulties, Melendez showed himself
alone upon the banks of the river. When he was seen from
the opposite shore, a bold Gascon of Saint Jean de Luz plunged
fearlessly into the stream, and succeeded in making the passage.

“Who are these people?” demanded Melendez.

“We are Frenchmen, all, who have suffered shipwreck.”

“What Frenchmen?”

“The people of M. Ribault, Captain-General of Florida,
under commission of the king of France.”

“I know no right to Florida, on the part of France or Frenchmen.
I am here, the true master of the country, on behalf of
my sovereign, the Catholic king, Philip the Second. I am Pedro
Melendez, adelantado of all this Florida, and of the isles thereof.
Go back to your general with my answer, and say to him, that I
am here, followed by my army, as I had intelligence that he too
was here, invading the country in my charge.”

The Gascon returned with the speech, and soon after was persuaded
again to swim the stream, with a request for a safe conduct
from the Spanish general, on behalf of four gentlemen of the
French, who desired to treat with him. It was requested that a
batteau which Melendez had brought along shore with his provisions,
and which was now safely moored beside the eastern banks,
might be sent to bring them over. To all this Melendez readily
consented. The arrangement suited him exactly. His troop was
still in reserve, covered rather than concealed within the forest,
and so disposed as to seem at a distance to consist of overwhelming

numbers. But six men were suffered to accompany the
Spanish commander. These, well armed, were quite equal to the
four to whom he accorded the interview. These soon made their
appearance. Their leader told the story of their melancholy
shipwreck, the privations they had borne, the wants under which
they suffered, and implored his assistance to regain a fortress
called La Caroline, which the king, his master, held at a distance
of some twenty leagues.

Melendez replied—

“Señor, I have made myself the master of your fort. I have
laid strong hands upon the garrison. I have slain them all, sparing
none but the women, and such children as were under fifteen years.”

The Frenchmen looked incredulous.

“If you doubt,” he continued, “I can soon convince you. I
have brought hither with me the only two soldiers whom I have
admitted to mercy. I spared them, because they claimed to be
of the Catholic faith. You shall see them, and hear the truth
from their own lips. In all probability you know them, and will
recognise their persons. Rest you here, while I send you something
to eat. You shall see your compatriots, with some of the
spoils taken at La Caroline. These shall prove to you the truth
of what I say.”

With these words he disappeared. Soon after, refreshments
were brought to our Frenchmen, and when they had eaten, the
two captives at La Caroline, who had been spared on account of
their faith, were allowed to commune with them, and to repeat all
the facts in the cruel history of La Caroline. Nothing of that
terrible tragedy was concealed. Melendez had a policy too refined
for concealment, when the revelation of his atrocities was to
be the means for their renewal. To strike the hearts of the

Frenchmen with such terror, as to have them at his mercy, was a
profound secret of success in dealing with the wretched, suffering,
and already desponding outcasts in his presence.

After an hour's absence he returned.

“Are you satisfied,” he asked? “of the truth of the things
which I have told you.”

“We can doubt no longer;” was the reply; “but this does not
lessen our claim upon your humanity as men, and your consideration
as Frenchmen. Our people are at peace, there is amity and
alliance between our sovereigns. You cannot deny us assistance,
and the vessels necessary for our return to France.”

“Surely not, if you are Catholics, and if I had the means of
helping you to ships. But you are not Catholics. The alliance
between our kings is an alliance of members of the true Church,
both sworn against heretics.”

“We are members of the Reformed Church,” was the reply of
the officers; “but we are men; human; made equally in the
image of the Deity, and serve the same God, if not at the same
altars. Suffer us, at least, to remain with you for a season, till
we can find the means for returning to our own country.”

“Señor, it cannot be. As for sheltering heretics, that is impossible.
I have sworn on the holy sacrament, to root out and to
extripate heresy, wherever I encounter it—by sea or land—to
wage against the damnable heresy which you profess a war to the
utterance, as vindictive as possible, to the death and to the torture;
and in this resolution I conceive myself to be serving
equally the king of France as the king, my sovereign. I am
here in Florida for the express purpose of establishing the Holy
Roman Catholic Faith! I will assist no heretic to remain in the
country.”

“Assist us to leave it, señor: that is in truth what we demand.”

“Demand nothing of me. Yield yourselves to my mercy—at
discretion—deliver up your arms and ensigns, and I will do with
you as God shall inspire me. Consent to this—these are my only
terms—or do what pleases you. But you must hope nothing at
my hands—neither truce nor friendship.”

With this cruel ultimatum, he quitted them, giving them opportunity
to return and report to their comrades. In two hours they
reappeared, and made him an offer from the two hundred men
gathered on the opposite banks, of twenty thousand ducats, only
to be assured of their lives. The answer was as prompt as it was
characteristic.

“Though but a poor soldier, señor, I am not capable of governing
myself, in the performance of my duties, by any regard to
selfish interests. If I am moved to do an act of grace, it will be
done from pure generosity. But do not let these words deceive
you. I tell you as a gentleman, and an officer holding a high commission
from the king of Spain, that, though the heavens and the
earth may mingle before my eyes, the resolution which I once
make, I never change!”

It will scarcely be thought possible that any body of men,
having arms in their hands, and still in possession of physical
powers sufficient for their use, would, under such circumstances,
listen to such a demand. But the forces of Ribault had been
terribly demoralized by disaster and disappointment. Privation
had humbled their souls, and the utter exhaustion of their spirits
made them give credence to vain hopes of mercy at the hands of
their enemy, which at another period they could never have entertained.
The report of their envoy found them ready to make

any concessions. It required but half an hour to determine their
submission. The returning batteau brought over with four officers
all their ensigns, sixty-six arquebuses, twenty pistols, a large
number of swords and bucklers, casques and cuirasses, their whole
complement of munitions, and a surrender of the entire body at
discretion. Melendez gladly seized upon these spoils. He embarked
twenty of his soldiers in his batteau, with orders to bring
over the Frenchmen, in small divisions, and to offer them no insult;
but, as they severally arrived on the eastern side of the bay, they
were conducted out of sight, and under the guns of his arquebusiers.
They were then given to eat, and when the repast was
ended, they were asked if any among them were Catholics. There
were but eight of the whole number who replied in the affirmative.
These were set apart, to be conducted to St. Augustine. The rest
frankly avowed themselves to be good Christians of the Reformed
Church. These were immediately seized, their arms tied
behind their backs, and in little squads of six, were conducted to
a spot in the background, where Melendez had traced, with his
cane, a line upon the sand. Here they were butchered to a man,
each succeeding body sharing the same fate, without knowing, till
too late, that of their comrades. There was no pause, no mercy,
no relentings in behalf of any. All perished, to the number of
two hundred; and Pedro Melendez returned to his camp at St.
Augustine, again to be welcomed with Te Deum, and the acclamation
for good Christian service, from a Christian people.

2. CHAPTER II.

The congratulations of his people were yet resounding in his
ears, when the savages brought him further intelligence of Frenchmen
gathered upon the borders of that bay which had arrested the
progress of the previous detachment. They were represented to
be more numerous than the first, and Melendez did not doubt that
they constituted the bulk of Ribault's force under the immediate
command of that leader. He proceeded to encounter him as he
had done the other party, but on this occasion he increased his
own detachment to one hundred and fifty men. These he ranged
in good order during the night, along the banks of the river,
which the Huguenots had begun their preparations to pass. They
had been at work upon the radeau or raft which had been begun
by the preceding party, but their progress had been unsatisfactory,
and the prospect of the passage, in such a vessel, over such
an arm of the sea, was quite as discouraging as to their predecessors.
With the dawn, and when they discovered the force of Melendez
on the opposite shore, the drums sounded the alarm, the royal
standard of France was advanced, and the troops were ranged in
order of battle. Poor Ribault still observed the externals of the
veteran, if only to conceal the real infirmities which impaired the
moral of his command.

Seeing this display of determination, Melendez, with proper
policy, commanded his people to proceed to breakfast without any
show of excitement or emotion. He himself promenaded the banks
of the river, accompanied only by his admiral and two other
officers, as indifferently as if there had been no person on the
opposite side. With this, the clamors of the French tambours

ceased—the fifes were allowed to take breath—and in place of the
warlike standard of their country, the commander of the Huguenots
displayed a white flag as sign of peace, and his trumpets
sounded for a parley. A response from the Spanish side of the
river, in similar spirit, caused one of the Frenchmen to advance
within speaking distance, upon the raft, who requested that somebody
might be sent them, as their radeau could not contend
against the current. A pirogue was finally sent by the Spaniard,
which brought over the sergeant-major of Ribault. This man
related briefly the necessities and desires of his commander.
He was totally ignorant of all that had taken place. He had been
wrecked, and had lost all his vessels; that he had with him three
hundred and fifty soldiers; that he was desirous of reaching his
fortress, twenty leagues distant; and prayed the assistance of the
Spaniards, to enable him to do so. At the close, he desired to
know with whom he was conferring.

Melendez answered as directly as he had done in the previous
instance, when dealing with the first detachment. He did not
scruple to add to the narrative of the capture of La Caroline, and
the cruel murder of its garrison, the farther history of the party
whom he had encountered in the same place with themselves.

“I have punished all these with death;” he continued; and,
still further to assure the officer of Ribault of the truth of what
he said, he took him to the spot where lay in a heap the exposed,
the bleached and decaying bodies of his slaughtered companions.
The Frenchman looked steadily at the miserable spectacle, and
so far commanded his nerves as to betray no emotion. He continued
his commission without faltering; and obtained from Melandez
a surety in behalf of Ribault, with four or six of his men,
to cross the river for the purpose of conference, with the privilege

of returning to his forces at his leisure. But the adelantado
positively refused to let the Frenchmen have his shallop or bateau.
The pirogue, alone, was at their service. With this, the French
general could pass the strait without risk; and he was compelled
to content himself with this. The policy of Melendez was
not willing to place any larger vessel in his power.

Ribault crossed to the conference, accompanied by eight of his
officers. They were well received by the adelantado, and a collation
spread for them. He showed them afterwards the bodies of
their slain companions. He gave them the full history of the
taking of La Caroline, and the treatment of the garrison, and
brought forward the two Frenchmen, claiming to be Catholics,
whose lives had been spared when the rest were massacred.
There was something absolutely satanic in the conduct of the
Spaniard, by which Ribault was confounded. He was not willing
to believe the facts that he could not question.

“Monsieur,” said he to Laudonniere, “I will not believe that
you design us evil. Our kings are friends and brothers, and in
the name of this alliance between them, I conjure you to furnish
us with a vessel for returning to our country. We have suffered
enough in this: we will leave it in your hands entirely. Help us
to the means necessary for our departure.”

To this Melendez replied in the very same language which he
had used to the preceding detachment:

“Our kings are Catholics both; they hold terms with one
another, but not with heretics. I will make no terms with you.
I will hold no bonds with heretics anywhere. You have heard
what I have done with your comrades. You hear what has been
the fate of La Caroline. You behold the corses of those who but
a few days ago followed your banner; and now I say to you that

you must yield to my discretion, leaving it to me to do with you
as God shall determine me!”

Aghast and confounded, Ribault declared his purpose to return
and consult with his people. In a case so extreme, particularly
as he had with him many gentlemen of family, he could not
undertake to decide without their participation. Melendez
approved this determination, and the general of the French
re-crossed the river.

For three hours was the consultation carried on in the camp of
our Huguenots. Ribault fully revealed the terrible history of
what had passed, of what he had heard and seen in the camp of the
Spaniards. The cold and cruel decision of Melendez in their case,
as in that of the previous troops, was unfolded without reserve.
There were no concealments, and, for a time, a dull, deep and
dreary silence overspread the assembly. But all had not been
crushed by misfortune into imbecility. There were some noble and
fierce spirits whose hearts rose in all their strength of resolution,
as they listened to the horrible narrative and the insolent exaction.

“Better perish a thousand deaths, in the actual conflict with a
thousand enemies, than thus submit to perish in cold blood from
the stroke of the cowardly assassin!”

Such was the manly resolution of many. Others, again, like
Ribault, were disposed to hope against all experience. The fact
that Melendez had treated them so civilly, that he had placed
food and drink before them, and that his manners were respectful
and his tones were mild, were assumed by them to be conclusive
they were not to suffer as their predecessors had done.

“They were beguiled with the same arguments,” said young
Alphonse D'Erlach; “arguments which appealed to their hunger,

their thirst, their exhaustion, and their spiritless hearts—arguments
against truth, and common sense and their own eyes. He
who listens to such arguments will merit to fall by the hands of
the assassin.”

We need not pursue the debate which continued for three
hours. At the end of this time, Ribault returned to the landing.

“A portion of my people,” he said, “but not the greater number,
are prepared to surrender themselves to you at discretion.”

“They are their own masters,” replied Melendez; “they must
do as they please; to me it is quite indifferent what decision they
make.”

Ribault continued:

“Those who are thus prepared to yield themselves have instructed
me to offer you twenty thousand ducats for their ransom;
but the others will give even a greater sum, for they include
among them many persons of great wealth and family;—nay, they
desire further, if you will suffer it, to remain still in the country.”

“I shall certainly need some succors,” replied Melendez, “in
order to execute properly the commands of the king, my master,
which are to conquer the country and to people it, establishing
here the Holy Evangel;—and I should grieve to forego any assistance.”

This evasive answer was construed by Ribault according to his
desires. He requested permission to return and deliberate with
his people in order to communicate this last response. He readily
obtained what he asked, and the night was consumed among the
Huguenots in consultation. It brought no unanimity to their
counsels.

“I will sooner trust the incarnate devil himself, than this Melendez,”
was the resolution of Alphonse D'Erlach to his elder

brother. “Go not, mon frére, yield not: the savage Floridian has
no heart so utterly stony as that of this Spaniard. I will peril
anything with the savage, ere I trust to his doubtful mercy.”

And such was the resolve of many others, but it was not that of
Ribault.

“What!” exclaimed one of his friendly counsellors—“he has
shown you our slain comrades, butchered under the very arrangement
which he accords to us, and yet you trust to him?”

The infatuated leader, broken in spirit, and utterly exhausted
in the struggle with fate, replied:

“That he has freely shown me what he has done, is no proof
that he designs any such deeds hereafter. His fury is satiated.
It is impossible that he will commit a like crime of this nature.
It is his pride that would have us wholly in his power.”

“He hath fed on blood until he craves it,” cried Alphonse
D'Erlach. “You go to your death, Monsieur Ribault. The tiger
invites you to a banquet where the guest brings the repast.”

He was unheard, at least by the Huguenot general.

“We will leave this man, my friends,” cried Alphonse D'Erlach,
the strong will and great heart naturally rising to command
in the moment of extremity. “We will leave this man. Quem
Deus vult perdere prius dementat. He goes to the sacrifice!”

And when Ribault prepared in the morning to lead his people
across the bay, he found but an hundred and fifty of all the force
that he commanded during the previous day. Two hundred had
disappeared in the night under the guidance of D'Erlach.

3. CHAPTER III.

The fates had the blinded Ribault in their keeping. He was
ferried across the stream for the last time, by the grim ferryman
vouchsafed him; and the trophies which he first laid at the feet
of the adelantado consisted of his own armor, a dagger, a casque
of gold, curiously and beautifully wrought; his buckler, his pistolet,
and a secret commission which he had received at the hands
of Admiral Coligny himself. The standards of France and of
the Admiral were then lowered at the feet of the Spaniard, then
the banners of companies, and finally the sword of the Huguenot
general. Never was submission more complete and shameful.
The spirit of the veteran was utterly broken and gone. But this
degradation was not thus to end. Melendez gave orders that he
and the companions he had brought with him, eight in number,
should be tied with their hands behind their backs. The indignity
brought the blush with tenfold warmth into the cheeks of the
old warrior. He foresaw the inevitable doom before him, but he
felt the shame only.

“Have I lived for this? Is it thus, Monsieur Melendez, that
you treat a warrior and a Christian?”

“God forbid that I should treat a Christian after this fashion.
But are you a Christian, señor?”

“Of the Reformed Church, I am!” was the reply.

“I do not hold yours, señor, to be a church of Christ, but of
Satan. Bind him, my comrades, and take him hence.”

A significant wave of the fatal staff, which had prescribed the
line upon the spot of earth selected as the chosen place of sacrifice—the
scene of a new auto-da-fé as fearful as the preceding—

finished his instructions, and as the guards led the veteran away,
he commenced, in the well-known spirit of the time, to sing aloud
the psalm “Domine, memento mei, &c.,” in that fearful moment
well conceiving that there was left him now but one source of consolation,
and none of present hope. He addressed no words of
expostulation to his murderer; but as they led him away, he
calmly remarked—“From the earth we came, to the earth we
must return; soon or late, it is all the same; such must have
been the fate. It is not what we would, but what we must.”

He renewed his psalm, the sounds of which grated offensively
on the bigot ears of Melendez, falling from such lips, and he impatiently
made the signal to his men to expedite the affair. The
Huguenot general was led off singing. One of the accounts before
us—for there is a Spanish and a French version of the history,
differing in several minute, but really unimportant particulars
—describes the last scene of Ribault's career, in a brief but
striking manner. The eight which constituted this party had
each his assassin assigned him. Among the companions of Ribault
at the moment of execution, was Lieutenant Ottigny, of
whom we have heard more than once before in the history of La
Caroline. They were led into the woods, out of sight and hearing
of the French on the opposite side of the bay, all of whom
were to be brought over, ten by ten, to the same place of sacrifice.
The soldier to whom Ribault had been confided, when they had
reached the spot strewn thickly with the corses of his murdered
people, said to him—

“Señor, you are the general of the French?”

“I am!”

“You have always been accustomed to exact obedience, without
question, from all the people under your command?”

“Without doubt!” replied Ribault, somewhat wondering at
the question.

“Deem it not strange, then, señor,” continued the soldier, “that
I execute faithfully the orders I have received from my commandant!”

And, speaking these words, he drove his poignard into the heart
of the victim, who fell upon his face, in death, without uttering a
groan. Ottigny and the others perished in like manner, and with
no farther preliminaries. Why pursue the details with the rest?
In this mannner each unconscious band of the Huguenots, thus
surrendering to the clemency of Melendez, was simply ferried
across the river to execution. And still the boat returned for and
with its little compliment of ten—it was only a proper precaution
that denied that more should be brought—and the succeeding
voyagers dreamed not, even as they sped, their comrades were
sinking one by one under the hands of their butchers. More than
a hundred perished on this occasion, but four of the number
avowing themselves to be of the Roman Catholic Church, and being
spared accordingly.

4. CHAPTER IV.
OF THOSE WHO REFUSED TO FOLLOW THE FORTUNES OF
RIBAULT.

We have seen that two hundred of the followers of Ribault
had refused to submit to the arrangement, by which that unhappy
commander had sacrificed himself and all those who accompanied
him into the camp of Melendez. These two hundred had been

counselled to the more manly course which they had taken, by
the youthful but sagacious lieutenant, Alphonse D'Erlach. This
young man well understood their enemy. His counsel, if followed
by Ribault, would probably have resulted in conquest rather than
misfortune.

“We are strong,”—said D'Erlach to his companions—“strong
enough to maintain ourselves in any position, which we may take
and hold with steadfastness. We have three hundred and fifty
soldiers, all with arms in their hands, and it requires only that we
shall use our arms and maintain our independence. Why treat
at all with the Spaniards? They may assist us across this
strait, but why cross it at all? To gain La Caroline? That,
according to his own showing, is already in his hands. Indeed, of
this, you tell us, there can be no question. What then? Of
what avail to seek the post which he has garrisoned, and which,
properly fortified, is beyond our utmost strength. It is evident
that, fortifying La Caroline and his new post on the banks of the
Salooe, he has no available force with which he dares assail us.
In the meantime, let us leave this position. Let us retire further
to the south, regain the coast upon which our vessels were wrecked,
rebuild them, or one at least, in which, if your desire is to return
to France, we can re-embark; or, as I would counsel, retire to a
remoter settlement, where we may fortify ourselves, and establish
the colony anew, for which we first came to Florida. Why abandon
the country, when we are in sufficient strength to keep it?
Why forego the enterprises which offer us gold and silver in abundance,
a genial climate, a fertile soil, a boundless domain, in which
our fortunes and our faith may be made equally secure. As for
the savages of Florida, I know them and I fear them not. They
are terrible only to the timid and the improvident. With due

precautions, a proper courage, and arms in our hands, we shall
mock at their wandering bands, whose attacks are inconstant, and
upon whom the caprice of the seasons is forever working such evil
as will prevent them always from bringing large numbers together,
or keeping them long in one organization. But, hold the savages
to be as terrible as you may, they are surely less to be feared, are
less faithless and less hostile, than these sanguinary Spaniards. Do
not, at all events, deliver yourselves, bound hand and foot, in
petty numbers, to be butchered in detail, by this monstrous cut-throat!”

His counsels prevailed with the greater number. They left the
camp of Ribault at midnight, and commenced their silent march
along the coast, making for the bleak shores which had seen their
vessels stranded. Here they arrived after much toil and privation,
and, cheered by the manly courage of D'Erlach, they proceeded
at once to build themselves a vessel which should suffice
for their escape from the country, or enable them to penetrate
without difficulty to regions not yet under the control of the
Spaniards. For the work before them they possessed the proper
facilities. The fragments of their shattered navy were within
their reach. The expedition had been properly provided with
carpenters and laborers; and in that day every mariner was something
of a mechanic. They advanced rapidly with their work, but
at the end of three weeks the clouds gathered once more about
their heads. Once more the haughty banners of the Spaniard
were beheld, the vindictive enemy being resolved to give them no
respite, to allow of no refuge upon the soil, to afford them no
prospect of escape from the country.

Advised by the Indians that the surviving Frenchmen were at
work at Carnaverel, building themselves both fortresses and vessels,

Melendez sent an express to the Governor of San Matheo,
late La Caroline, with orders to send him instantly one hundred
and fifty of his men. These arrived at St. Augustine on the 23d
of October, under the conduct of Don Andres Lopez Patiño, and
of Don Jean Velez de Medrano. To these troops Melendez
added a like number from his own garrison, and on the 26th of
the month, they commenced their march to the south, on foot.
His provisions and munitions were sent in two shallops along the
shore, and each night they came to anchor opposite his camp.
On the first day of November, they came in sight of the French.
These, immediately abandoned their work, and seizing their arms
retired to a small sandy elevation which they had previously
selected as a place of refuge against attack, and which they had
strengthened by some slight defences. Here they prepared for
a desperate and deadly struggle. The force of their assailants
was one-third stronger than their own. They had the advantage,
also, of supplies and munitions, in which the Frenchmen were
deficient; but a sense of desperation increased their courage, and
they showed no disposition to entreat or parley. But Melendez
had no desire to compel them to a struggle in which even
success would probably be fatal ultimately to himself. His main
strength was with him, but should he suffer greatly in the assault,
as it was very evident he must, the French being in a good position,
and showing the most determined front, his army would be
too greatly weakened, perhaps, even for their safe return to St.
Augustine, through a country filled with hostile Indians, whom,
as yet, he had neither conquered nor conciliated. Having
reconnoitred the position taken by the Frenchmen, he generously
made them overtures of safety. He proposed not only to spare
their lives, but promised to receive as many of them as thought
proper, into his own ranks as soldiers.

This offer led to a long and almost angry conference among the
French. Their councils were divided. Many of their leaders
were men wholly ignorant of the country, and disheartened by
the cruel vicissitudes and dangers through which they had passed.
Many of them were persons of wealth and family, who were
anxious once more to find themselves in a position which
demanded no farther struggle, and which might facilitate their
return to the haunts of civilization. Others, again, were Catholics,
whose sympathies were not active in behalf of the Huguenots
with whom they now found themselves in doubtful connection.
Others were jealous of the sudden spring to authority, which, in
those moments of peril when all others trembled, had been made
by the young adventurer, Alphonse D'Erlach. It was in vain
that he counselled them against giving faith to the Spaniards.

“What is your security, my friends? His word? His pledge
of mercy to you, when he showed none to your brethren? Look
at the hand which he stretches out to you; it is yet dripping
with the blood of your people, butchered, in cold blood, at La
Caroline, and the Bay of Matanzas. Trust him not, if you
would prosper—if ye would not perish likewise. Believe none
of his assurances, even though he should swear upon the Holy
Evangel.”

“But what are we to do, Monsieur D'Erlach? We have
small provisions here. He hath environed us with his troops.”

“We may break through his troops. We have arms in our
hands, and if we have but the heart to use them, like men, we
may not only save ourselves, but avenge our butchered
comrades.”

His entreaties and arguments were unavailing. It was sufficient
for our broken-spirited exiles that Melendez had volunteered
to them those guaranties of safety which he had denied to their
brethren. They prepared to yield.

“Go not thou with these people, my brother,” said Alphonse
D'Erlach, to that elder brother whom we have seen, with himself,
a trusted lieutenant of Laudonniere. He flung himself
tenderly upon the bosom of the other, as he prayed, and the
moisture gathered in his eyes. The elder was touched, but his
inclinations led him with the rest.

“He hath sworn to us, Alphonse, that life shall be spared us,
and that we shall be free to enter his service or return to
France.”

“Would you place life at his mercy?”

“It is so now!”

“No! never! while the hand may grasp the weapon. If we
would defy him as men, we should rather have his life at ours.
Oh! would that we were men. Enter his service! Dost thou
think of this? Wouldst thou receive commands from the lips of
him who hath murdered thy old commander!”

“No! surely, I shall never serve Melendez. I seek this only
as the mean whereby to return to France.”

“And wherefore return to France? What hath France in reserve
for us but the shot, the torture, and the scourge. Here,
brother, here, with the wild Floridian, let us make our home.
Let us rather put on the untamed habits of the savage, his garments
torn from bear and panther; let us anoint our bodies with
oil; let us stain our cheeks with ocre; and taking bond with the
Apalachian and Floridian, let us haunt the footsteps of the
Spaniard with death and eternal hatred, till we leave not one of

them living for the pollution of the soil. This is my purpose,
brother, though I go forth into the wilderness alone!”

“Thou shalt not go alone, Alphonse. We will live and die
together.”

The brothers embraced. The bond was knit between them,
whatever might be the event; and when, at morning, the main
body of the Frenchmen surrendered themselves to the Spanish
adelantado, the Erlachs were not among them. They, with
twenty others, all Huguenots, who detested equally the power
and feared the savage fanaticism of Melendez, had disappeared
silently in the night, leaving as a message for the Spanish chief,
that they preferred infinitely to be devoured by the savages, than
to receive his mercy. Melendez looked anxiously to the dark
forests in which they had shrouded themselves from his pursuit.
He would gladly have penetrated their depths of shadow
and their secret glooms, in search of victims, whom he certainly
never would have spared if caught; but the object was too small
for the peril which it involved; and having destroyed the fort and
shipping which they had been building, content with having
broken up the power of the French in the country, he returned
with his captives to St. Augustine. He kept his faith with
them. Many of them joined themselves to his troops, and accompanied
his expeditions, and others who were Huguenots found new
favor with him by undergoing conversion to his faith. With this
chapter fairly ends the history of the Huguenot colonies of
Coligny in Florida; but other histories followed which will require
other chapters.